September 20, 2024 – Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost

“They did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.”

Questions are our friends. Seem simple? 

It sure is, but somehow the disciples still missed it. At this point in Mark’s account, Jesus has taken them aside to teach them about his upcoming suffering, death, and resurrection. They don’t understand. We might make much of that, especially given that it’s the second time Jesus has explained things to them. But I think we should forgive their confusion – after all, this is a pretty mind-blowing thing that Jesus is telling them. I mean, absolutely no one expected that the promised Messiah would redeem Israel through suffering. So if they don’t understand, even this second time, I get it.

What’s harder to overlook is that they are too afraid to ask any questions. Part of this, of course, may be the way that Mark writes to focus on the faults and failings of the disciples. But I don’t think that we are all that different. I know far too many people who are often afraid to ask questions. Sometimes it’s because they believe they should already know the answer and they don’t want to look dumb. Sometimes it’s because they are nervous that their question isn’t “okay,” that maybe there is something wrong with their question or, indeed, with questions in general.

I think that, as a culture, we tend to equate intelligence with knowing things. I understand that to some degree. Smart people seem to know a lot of stuff. But what if we could also imagine that intelligence is measured not simply by what you know, but also by how eager you are to learn more. That is, it’s at the edges of what we know that there is the greatest chance to grow in understanding. Which is why questions are so important. Questions are not the mark of a lack of intelligence but of a curious and lively mind.

There’s another, and perhaps more ominous, reason folks may not want to ask questions, though: they may think it is unfaithful. Somewhere, many of us – particularly ex-Roman Catholics – were taught that questions are a sign of doubt and doubt is the opposite of faith. Let me respond with two thoughts: first, questions are often far more a mark of perceptive curiosity than they are of doubt; and second, doubt is not the opposite of faith. Faith, in fact, grows in the soil of doubts and challenges. Without doubt, we may talk of knowledge, but given that faith is “belief in things not seen,” doubt seems to be an essential ingredient.

Not only does no one anticipate Jesus’ cross, but his resurrection is even more incredible, unlooked for, and downright shocking. In fact, in all four gospels the reaction to the news of Jesus’ resurrection is NEVER “we knew it” or “about time” or “just like he promised.” Rather, it is doubt. Why? Because Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection are so logic-defying and world-changing that, quite frankly, if you don’t have doubts you’re probably not paying attention.

I can understand that the disciples didn’t understand, and I can even sympathize with the things that make them – and us – hesitant to ask questions. But what might have happened if they could imagine that there is nothing Jesus’ wants more than to share their questions, their struggles, and their doubts so that he might help them understand his teaching and draw them closer to God. Perhaps if they had asked, they would have understood more quickly and easily – to jump to the second half of this Sunday’s passage – that greatness does not lay in power but in compassion and is not achieved by status but by service.

And perhaps, the same is true of us. If Jesus’ kingdom – so different from the kingdoms we normally live  – is understandably difficult to apprehend, then we should ask questions. If Jesus’ death seems meaningless or his resurrection hard to accept, we should ask questions. If we wonder how Jesus can be with us or where God is when it hurts, we should again ask questions.

So this week I’m going to stop my sermon early. I want to invite you to write down a question about faith, God, or the Bible that you wonder about and pass it in with the offering. You can use the back page of your bulletin, which just happens to be blank this week. You don’t have to ask your question out loud or discuss them with their neighbor. Just write down one question you have about Scripture, God, or the faith and pass it in with the offering. And it’s important that it’s with the offering, because just as we give God our time, talents, and money, we also gratefully give God our questions, challenges, and doubts.

Will you hear your question answered in an upcoming sermon? Perhaps? Maybe you’ll be featured anonymously in a weekly newsletter response! Maybe you won’t hear anything more about it, but it’s important that we get comfortable with asking questions, because if we don’t have doubts and questions, we’re not really paying attention. I think asking questions – about God, faith, Scripture – is crucial to the life of faith. And so our congregations – and our homes and schools as well – need to nurture a culture in which questions are invited and encouraged. Why? Because it’s by knowing what we DO know and what we DON’T KNOW and then asking questions that we learn more and grow in our faith.