The Permission to Ask Questions

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There are some questions we ask easily.

And there are others we hesitate to say aloud.

Questions about God. Questions about the Bible. Questions about things we have been taught to believe. Questions that arise because something has happened in our lives that doesn’t seem to fit comfortably with the faith we thought we understood.

Sometimes the question itself isn’t the hardest part.

The hardest part is wondering whether we are allowed to ask it.

I have encountered people over the years who have worried that questioning something about their Christian faith meant that their faith was failing. Perhaps they had been given the impression that strong faith meant being certain, while questions belonged to those who didn’t believe enough.

I don’t think that is true.

In fact, I increasingly wonder whether some questions arise precisely because we do take our faith seriously.

If something doesn’t make sense, we want to understand.

If an interpretation of Scripture seems inconsistent with the Jesus we encounter in the Gospels, we want to look again.

If something we have been taught about God doesn’t seem to fit with our experience of suffering, love or the world around us, we want to know why.

Those aren’t necessarily signs that faith is disappearing.

They may be signs that faith is growing.

Questions have always belonged to faith

The Bible is full of questions.

The Psalmists ask where God is.

Job wants to know why he is suffering.

The prophets question a society that claims to worship God while tolerating injustice.

The disciples repeatedly ask Jesus what he means—and frequently misunderstand the answer.

Even Jesus asks questions.

Questions seem to belong naturally within the life of faith.

And yet Christian communities can sometimes become uncomfortable with them.

Perhaps that is because questions can take us somewhere unexpected.

Once we begin asking Why do we believe this? or Is this really what this passage means?, there is no guarantee that we will arrive back at precisely the place from which we started.

That can feel unsettling.

But perhaps faith was never meant to leave us exactly where we started.

A safe answer isn’t always a good answer

There can be a temptation, particularly when someone is struggling, to offer an answer quickly.

Sometimes that comes from kindness. We want to help.

But there are experiences for which a neat theological answer can feel painfully inadequate.

Why did this person die?

Why wasn’t my prayer answered?

Why does God allow this suffering?

Why does a loving God seem absent?

Why does the Bible say this?

Why has the Church taught that?

There are times when saying “I don’t know” may be more faithful than offering an answer simply because we feel Christians ought to have one.

It leaves the question open.

And sometimes an open question is where an important journey begins.

Questions can change us

My own Christian journey began with questions, and the questions haven’t stopped.

Some have found answers.

Some have changed.

Some no longer seem as important as they once did.

And others have grown larger.

But over time I have become less frightened of them.

Perhaps that is because I’ve come to see faith less as possessing a complete set of answers and more as learning to trust while continuing to explore.

There is a humility in that.

It allows us to say:

This is what I believe.

This is why I believe it.

But I am still listening.

That final sentence matters.

Because if we already possess every answer, there is very little left for us to discover.

A community where questions are welcome

I think Christian communities should be places where people can ask difficult questions without fearing that they will be judged for asking them.

Some years ago, a woman who was a member of one of my congregations said something to me that has stayed with me. She had a strong and thoughtful Christian faith, shaped over many years both by studying the Bible and by the experiences of her life.

Yet she told me that she wouldn’t discuss some of her understanding of faith, even with her best friend at church. She was afraid that if they discovered they understood or believed things differently, it might damage their friendship.

I remember feeling very sad when she said that.

Because surely these were exactly the people with whom she should have been able to have those conversations.

What kind of Christian community are we creating if people who have worshipped together, prayed together and become close friends still feel that their friendship might not survive an honest conversation about what they believe?

Perhaps we need to become better at disagreeing.

Christian conversation doesn’t require us to arrive at the same conclusion about everything. We can listen to someone else’s understanding without feeling that it threatens our own. We can ask why they see something differently. We can even allow their experience to make us look again at something we thought we had settled.

And sometimes we may simply say:

“I see that differently, but I want to understand why you see it that way.”

There could be something deeply Christian about that kind of conversation.

We don’t have to agree with every conclusion. But we can listen.

One of the things I have learned through ministry is that sometimes people don’t initially need us to answer their question.

They need to know that we have heard it.

And occasionally what appears to be a theological question is carrying something much deeper: disappointment, grief, anger, exclusion or hurt.

Listening may therefore be one of the most important responses we can offer.

Keep asking

A Wider Faith is intended to be a place where questions are welcome.

Not because nothing matters.

Not because every answer is equally good.

And not because Christian faith is simply whatever we decide we want it to be.

We ask questions because faith matters enough to explore.

We return to Scripture.

We return to Jesus.

We listen to one another.

We learn from those who have travelled before us.

And sometimes we change our minds.

Perhaps there is nothing particularly frightening about that.

After all, the disciples who first responded to Jesus’ invitation did not know where following him would lead.

They simply began to follow.

Maybe we don’t need to have every question answered before we do the same.

Sometimes we just need permission to ask the question—and the courage to listen for where it might lead.

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