New parents are always so eager and anxious for their babies to learn to talk. We cajole and coo and coax them to get out those first precious words. But eventually parental prayers are answered, and the child speaks.
Next thing they know, however, Mom and Dad are being grilled by junior or missy who have discovered the all important “Why?” question.
There are the science questions — “Why is the sky blue?” “Why does the wind blow?” “Why is water wet?” “Where exactly in our bodies are we located?”
There are the personal questions — “Why do I have to go to bed?” “Why do I have to eat my vegetables?” “Why do I have to wear a coat?”
There are relational questions — “Why are you crying?” “Why did Grandpa die?” Why do I have to be nice to that funny smelling person?”
Even when a long litany of “Why?” questions get tedious, good parents know they need to keep answering. Children learn from asking question. But it isn’t so much the answer to their inquiry that they are learning. What our children are really learning with these first “Why?” questions is to turn to the ones who love them the most, who care for them as family, for an expansion of knowledge and an expression of love. Questions keep parent and child engaged in an on-going, living, growing relationship.
Church consultant Lyle Schaller has published over ninety books for Abingdon Press. Warren Bird has recently put together a sort of festschrift to celebrate Schaller’s impact on the church entitled Wisdom from Lyle E. Schaller: The Elder Statesman of Church Leadership (2012). Among his personal quirks, as revealed by Warren Bird Schaller, is an extensive T-shirt collection. Before he consults with a church in person, he reads their preliminary reports, and picks from an ensemble of dozens of T-shirts the one with the best message for that church, and then he wears that one T-shirt for the consultation or conference. Schaller’s favorite T-shirt of them all? The one emblazoned with the directive “Ask Questions!” It is Schaller’s own shorthand way of reminding him of his favorite quote by St. Augustine, “Lord, Save us from any answers that doesn’t lead to more questions.”
No question worth its salt is answerable. A truly worthy question generates a whole new batch of questions — and reveals some old answers. In today’s gospel text Jesus answers the third in a series of questions — each posed to him by a different branch of the Jewish religious hierarchy — the Sadducees, the Pharisees, and the Scribes.
Of the 183 questions asked of Jesus in the gospels, these three questions — the first about paying taxes, the second about the resurrection, and this third one about what is the greatest or “first” commandment - are the only three he directly “answers.” Isn’t it liberating to know that Jesus didn’t feel the need to answer every question he was asked? Yet each one of his seemingly “straight forward” answers in today’s reading holds the fodder for future questions.
In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus’ answer to the Scribe’s question leads to the parable of the “Good Samaritan” — and so to a completely new definition of who is the “neighbor” we are commanded to love. In Mark’s text, Jesus’ declares that the Scribe who engages Jesus with a question receives an answer, celebrates and expands on Jesus’ answer, and is declared by Jesus to be “not far from the kingdom of God.” In Mark, Jesus’ last word to the Scribe changes the subject — from the Torah to the kingdom — and so opens the door to a whole host of new questions.
But instead of following Jesus down this new line of inquiry, Mark reports that this audience of religious authorities did not “dare to ask him any questions.” Jesus’ response invited more questions. Those who stood in opposition to Jesus slammed the door on that possibility. Engagement, dialogue, disagreement, discovery — all were abandoned when they refused to connect Jesus with question. In other words, relationship was dropped when they refused to keep questioning Jesus.
Asking questions is the only way to keep a relationship alive. It connects and challenges those who are questioning. In Jewish scholarship, the tradition of arguing and questioning every “point” of the Torah is vital to the faith. In Hebrew only the consonants are written in letter form. All the vowels are represented by tiny, “points” is a battle of minutia.
But those very questions engage the learner. They make a text that is thousands of years old a living, changing, challenging facet of faith. Questioning God’s intentions behind a piece of scripture transforms ancient words on a page into a vital relationship with a living, loving God. Of course, some people ask questions, not to gain clarity but to cause confusion. But by and large the question is one of the most important spiritual tools and techniques in the entire religious repertoire. A question mark may just be Jesus’ biggest mark of discipleship.
Jesus was a master questioner. In the gospels while he directly answers only three of 183 questions posed to him, he asks 340 more questions of his inquirers. Jesus was far more likely to ask questions of the people he met in the street, than to give them answers. Jesus did not offer answers in order to end a conversation. Jesus offered answers that opened the door to more questions. That’s why the title of David Dark’s book says it all: The Sacredness of Questioning Everything (2009).
Jesus’ “answers” did not offer “closure.” Jesus’ “answers” were an invitation to a new start, a new venue of insight and truth. Some things are not an answer, they are a start. And sometimes we need starts more than we need answers.
Little children ask their parents lot of questions. But once they hit adolescence, the flow of questioning between parents and children changes. The tide turns. Parent, if you’ve ever had a teenager, know it is YOUR turn to ask the questions. Not just “Where are you going and with whom?” but questions that help guide your teen along their path. “What class do you like most?” “What did you learn today?” “What’s wrong?” “Why are you upset?”
Jesus was not afraid of questions. Jesus was not concerned with answers. Jesus knew HE was the answer, and that all the questions he asked, all the answers he gave, were part of the conversation that put him in relationship with all people who came to him with inquiries.
A columnist in The New York Times told of witnessing a scene on an uptown bus of a mother losing patience with her child. The little kid was plying his mother with nonstop questions. Who knows how long he had been doing it. But in exasperation, with patience worn thin, she said sharply, “Would you please shut up!” The boy was stunned into silence and sat dejectedly looking down at the floor of the bus. Then he hesitantly tugged at his mother’s sweater sleeve and said, “Mommy, it’s me! It’s your Danny.”
To be God’s child is to ask questions. The question mark may just be one of the greatest marks of Christian discipleship. Not the mark of the beast, as some people make the question mark out to be. But the mark of the Messiah.
Wear the Messiah’s Mark proudly this week.
COMMENTARY
When confronted with a third question, this time from the third branch of the official Jewish religious power structure, Jesus had an unexpected moment of reprieve. After being accosted first by the Pharisees and Herodians, and then by the “Sadducees,” he is confronted by one of the “Scribes” — the “legal beagles” of first century Judaism.
Although this third questioner is a member of the Scribes, the established arbitrators in all matters of Torah minutia, this individual is not overtly hostile. In fact, he is open to and intrigued by Jesus. Favorably impressed by Jesus’ responses to the two previous groups, he merely asks him a question — the most fundamental mode of learning employed by Jewish scholars.
This Scribe asks Jesus for his personal judgment upon which commandment is “first” among them all. As a Scribe, a learned scholar and designated interpreter of the Torah, this questioner certainly knew all the 613 commandments identified by Jewish tradition. He also knew that while all of those commandments were from God, Jewish scholars and rabbis had identified some commandments as “heavy” and other as “light.” “Light” commandments had less personal impact on the individual, while the “heavy” commandments were crucial to the heart of one’s genuine faithfulness. It is from that pool of “heavy” commandments that this Scribe knows Jesus’ selection of the “first” must come.
Jesus’ response is both utterly traditional and uniquely creative. He first cites Deuteronomy 6:4-5, the “Shema” (Hebrew for “to hear”) — “Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one: you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” Mark’s recitation of the Shema adds “with all your mind” (“dianoia”) which is not in the Hebrew text.
There are some manuscripts that translate the Hebrew “leb” (“heart”) as “dianoai” (“mind”). That is one possibility for the gospel writer’s source for this addition. Alternatively, the addition of “mind” may be yet another example of Jesus’ own habit of citing scripture, but adding his own words to the text, a demonstration of his authority.
Whichever the case, Jesus then goes on to add that there is a “second” commandment to the “first” by citing Leviticus 19:18: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Though Jesus cites this commandment to love second, it is clear from his final declaration that he sees these two commandments as one: “There is no commandment greater than these.”
After twenty centuries of Christianity, this “great commandment” sounds comfortingly familiar. Yet before Jesus’ pronouncement, those two commandments — loving God and loving neighbor – had never been explicitly combined. Jesus makes it clear that those two “loves” are inextricably entwined. Loving God with one’s whole being must necessarily be expressed by loving one’s neighbor. While the Scribe would have interpreted the “neighbor” as his fellow Jews, Jesus expanded that designation throughout his life. His interactions with Gentiles and outcasts, and his “Good Samaritan” parable (Luke 25-29), made that re-designation of “neighbor” pointedly poignant.
Not only does this Scribe whole-heartedly agree with Jesus’ answer, declaring “Well said” (Greek “kalos”). He even makes a surprising extension of it. First, he reiterates the directives of the two texts Jesus has cited (Deuteronomy 6:4-5; Leviticus 19:18), although he only speaks of three aspects of the individual who loves — heart, understanding (“synesis”), and strength. This Scribe then goes on to assert that living this attitude and action of love is “more important” than all the ”whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” “Whole burnt offerings” were the temple sacrifices that were burned completely, never consumed by worshipers, as a tribute to God, a truly sacred practice. Yet despite their importance and sanctity the Scribe adds them to the list of things that are inferior to the great commandment to love.
After being confrontationally challenged by the previous two representatives of the Jewish authorities (Sadducees and Pharisees), Jesus is pleased with this Scribe’s response. Yet Jesus’ praise redirects the focus of their exchange, shifting from a discussion about the Torah to a declaration about the “kingdom of God.” Jesus’ assertion demonstrates both his authority over the Torah and over this individual Scribe. He judges which commandment is “first,” but also points beyond the Torah to the kingdom. It is not the Torah that brings this Scribe “not far from the kingdom of God.” It is the man’s reception to Jesus and his words.
Mark’s final comment on this exchange asserts that “After that no one dared to ask him any question.” Though this may seem like a “throw-away” comment, it actually reveals one of the greatest betrayals of the faithfulness of those groups who had been trying to trip Jesus up. At the heart of Jewish faith is a lively, living tradition of questioning. Dialogue and debate among the people about the Torah is what keeps the scriptures real and vital for each new generation. By skulking off and refusing to engage Jesus with any new questions, the Sadducees, Pharisees and Scribes shut off the living breath of God from their Torah studies and from their own life of faith.
