February 2, 2010: In Praise Of Questions

Last Sunday I had the delight of staying after church for a long time discussing biblical issues with a couple who had asked me a question about a text that came up in Sunday School. I talked their ears off, and they listened with patience and grace. It was wonderful. At least, I thought it was wonderful.

I love questions. My relationship with the nicest person I've ever met started with a question. While sitting next to me at a Bible study she asked me if I understood Matthew 16:19, and that provoked me to unload a lengthy monologue. Amazingly, at the end, she was neither bored out of her skull nor looking over her shoulder at the exit sign and wishing she hadn't asked. Even more amazingly, a few months later she agreed to marry me.

When I read Tim Keller's great book The Reason For God I saw something there that stirred me to strong feelings of pastor envy. He said that for the first few years at his church in Manhattan he stayed after the worship service for three to four hours every week answering questions about the Bible and Christian faith. Three to four hours! Where did he find all those questioners, and how can I get me some? (Of course - to be fair - if I did have those questioners in my congregation they would probably plumb the depths of what I have contribute in short order and then say to themselves, "I think what I really need to do is go ask Tim Keller this question.")

Questioners make for good leaders. I once heard John MacArthur say, "If in a group of people you want to know who the leader is, he's the one asking all the questions." Instantly I realized MacArthur was right. Through questions a person gains knowledge, and without knowledge you cannot effectively lead anyone. Speaking as a born follower, I know that the person I want to follow most is the guy who knows everything.

Years ago I learned a great piece of "question wisdom" from Ken Pike, linguist extraordinaire and founding member of Wycliffe Bible Translators. I love to pass it along to students. He said that as a young man at the University of Michigan in the 1940s he made up his mind that if there was ever anything he did not understand, he would ask the professor. Though shy and (by his own admission) psychologically fragile, he deliberately chose never to worry about looking like a fool when asking things that probably everybody else in the room already understood.

I adopted that same policy in all my later schooling, and you would not believe how many times fellow students came up to me after class and thanked me for verbalizing the same questions they had but were afraid to ask. (The other students, the ones who presumably wondered "Why won't that idiot shut up?", all graciously kept their complaints to themselves.)

Even Jesus asked questions: "How long has he been like this?" (Mark 9:21); "Who do people say that I am?" (Mark 8:27); "Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?" (John 6:5). All his questions were terrific conversation starters - except for that time he asked the Pharisees how the Messiah could be David's son (Matthew 22:45-46). That turned out to be a terrific conversation ender. In your face, Pharisees.

Aren't questions great?