In Search of Questions

My Greek professor at Harding started out our studies by pointing out that Greek would not answer any of 'issues-oriented' questions we had. All of us hoped that the syntax of the language would clear up all the doctrinal lines that we wanted to have layed down in stone. We were sick of wondering if our church was actually doing things right, and all of us had the illusion in our eyes that perhaps Greek would give us the ammunition to prove the Baptists wrong. Our professor denominationally loyal as he was, still informed us that this would not be the case. We all stared with eyes glazed over so as to ask, "then why the heck do we need to learn it?" Then came the annoying yet wonderfully true words, "Studying will not answer your questions, so much as just teach you to ask different ones."

I think my whole education, and all the reading I've done since has shown that to be the case in life. Rarely if ever do we get answers to the things we assume are important. I used to think it a crucial question to know whether instrumental worship music was wrong in God's sight, or whether baptism was essential to salvation. A few years later I'm amazed that so much of my thought was controlled by questions that I now feel are utterly ridiculous.

I spent my early years as a Christian with all my questions focused on God's plan of salvation, which was broken down into 5 easy steps resulting in a lifetime of church attendence and mediocrity. Or, I was focused on preaching the word, gaurding the truth, and spreading the good news across the world. Yet, I never thought much about humanity as a whole. I never probed into God's emotion toward poverty and isolation in human existence. I never thought to question the fragmentation of families, societies, or our world at large. I was so focused on church and what I perceived to be 'Truth', that I never asked questions of the true nature of Love, or the true mission of Jesus, or even of the character of God.

I never knew what questions to ask. Years later I look back on my former concerns and feel disgust at the triviality of them.

"The gospel . . does not simply provide an answer to our human quesitons, but even transforms this human, all-too-human, questioning. It is a criticism, purification and deepening of human requirements."

I'm amazed that a few short years ago I thought the mission of God consisted of imploring people to sexual morality, church attendance, general propriety, and not cussing. I think for the past year I've been awakening, perhaps bitterly, to the reality of how far I have been from understanding the true call of the gospel, as though its essence consisted of some moral decency and not something far more demanding. I've been learning that I was focused on the wrong questions. I think in a lot of ways I'm searching for new ones.

Maybe despite all the ambiguity I have towards Jesus, I feel quite confident that he knew what questions to ask. I don't get the impression that he wasted much time focused on the wrong things. He's definitely my Lord in that: I can search all over, but not find a mind or life as purposed as his was toward the right things.