
Sometimes, their questions impress me.
Sometimes, their questions delight me.
Sometimes, their questions are easily answered.
Every once in a while, their questions challenge me—and that’s what happened last week.
I never know quite what to expect on Sunday mornings when I teach a group of 4 to 11 year-olds about God through Bible stories. One of my favorite parts about our curriculum1 is the “wondering questions” after each Bible story: the kids are encouraged to wonder aloud about the story.
This engages their biblical imagination, encourages them to think deeply, and reassures them that questions are okay—that grappling with a text is a way to stay faithful to it.
Last week, we covered the Israelites’ liberation from slavery in Egypt: the plagues, the pillar of cloud and fire, the crossing of the Red Sea. When I opened up the floor to wondering questions, they asked:
“How could they run away from the Egyptians in their sandals?”
“Was the bottom of the Red Sea muddy?”
“Did they find seashells?”
“How old was Moses?”
Then came the doozy, from the third-grader sitting in the back:
“But I thought God loves everyone and died for us, and gives us second chances, so why did the Egyptian army drown?”
And that, my friends, is when I broke into a bit of a sweat.
Many of us grew up in churches that glossed over or dismissed questions, with well-meaning Sunday school teachers who gave us pat answers. Over time, we learned to stop asking our questions, knowing that the responses wouldn’t satisfy, or sensing the discomfort among the adults.
Eventually, many of us learn that our curiosity or skepticism isn’t welcome in the presence of God, that our questions will lead us down a path we can never return from—a slippery slope of doubt that will result in walking away from the faith. But Jesus never shied away from our questions, whether asked from genuine curiosity (Why do you speak to the people in parables? Mt 13:10) or challenge (What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this? John 2:18) or skepticism (Lord, are you going to wash my feet? John 13:6).
I love how
puts it in her book Curious Faith:“Asking a question is an act of faith: faith that we could be answered, or that we won’t be refused, or that we will like the answer, or, if we don’t, that it will lead to a better question. To ask a question is to hope that what we currently know isn’t the whole story. It’s a gamble that we deep down want to win. If we don’t make space for curiosity in the Christian life, we will become content with a one-dimensional god, a god made more in our own image than the God who made us in his image.”2
So the next time you encounter a troubling passage of Scripture, don’t be afraid to go there, to sit with the discomfort, to find others who have wrestled with similar questions. Spiritual growth is on the other side of our seeking. Following our curiosity can lead us closer to the heart of God.
When we play it safe and only stay in the parts of the Bible that we understand, we deny ourselves the chance to know God more deeply. “Complacency, not doubt, is the great enemy of spiritual development.”3
What if our questions aren’t a sign of weak faith, but an invitation into deeper relationship? What if God is less interested in our certainty and more interested in our trust—the kind of trust that keeps showing up with honest questions and open hands?
I hope that little third grader never stops asking hard questions (even when my answer to her was essentially “I don’t know.”) I hope she keeps bringing her curiosity to God, knowing that her wondering heart is welcome at his feet. And I hope you know the same is true for you—every doubt, every question, every unpolished prayer is safe in the presence of the One who made you, knows you, and loves you still.
This past week, I had the chance to chat with
on the Theology on Purpose podcast! We explored the importance of dignity as a theological foundation, what it means to live as part of the body of Christ, and the sacred calling to see and care for others as brothers and sisters. Listen here!Something I wrote: For the writers out there, I hope The Hidden Rewards of Consistent Writing encourages and inspires you to keep typing away, even if you never reach your goal!
Something I read and loved: Meet the Wildflowers by
. These words were beautiful! Especially: “Wildflowers grow because they are rooted in something deeper than their circumstances. And I think that’s how God grows us too. Not in the pristine, predictable places but in the wild, unexpected fields of life.”Something I listened to: The Discipline of Inspiration with Carey Wallace on the Reimagining the Good Life podcast. What a great conversation about the role of surrender in our creativity, and how spiritual practices can nurture inspiration!
Something I’m cooking: It’s been rainy here in San Diego (can’t complain!) so it’s still soup season, if you ask me! I’m looking forward to trying this Cozy White Bean Mushroom Stew.
sends a monthly newsletter about embracing the tensions of faith in everyday life. As a thank you for subscribing, she’s offering the first THREE chapters of her novel Between You and Us!Until next time,
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From Curious Faith, by Lore Ferguson Wilbert, p. 24
From When Everything’s on Fire by Brian Zahnd, p. 77
I empathize - with you and the 3rd grader! This is such a intriguing, thoughtful and thought provoking essay. Enjoyed and also, to its credit, got me thinking even more than I usually do. God bless you with many more inspirations for your readers.
I loved this piece. YES to asking questions! A couple of weeks ago I was teaching elementary age Sunday School about the temple and the tabernacle and the students were sooo confused about why God cared about the building. They kept reassuring me that he only cares about our hearts and it doesn't matter what the outside looks like. I had to sit with their questions and make them feel heard before they could appreciate this distinction between the old and new testament: how the outward symbols point us to the heart of what God is after. Their questions and confusion slowed me down to really grasp the enormity of what Christ did for us in declaring that we are now the temple and can now be filled with his Spirit. Your writing blessed me this morning. Thank you!