The Problem With Asking Questions About Faith…

I’ve always asked questions about the Christian faith, about my faith.

In the eighth grade, after my Bible teacher explained his Baptist theology for how Jesus’s death and resurrection conquered the gates of Hell, I raised my hand and asked “then why do Baptists believe Hell still exists if Jesus conquered it”?

Did he just conquer part of it? Why didn’t he take care of the whole thing? Didn’t he technically create it?

My questions didn’t go over so well. But as far as I was concerned, inside my mind, my teacher’s answers didn’t go over well, either. Usually they only brought more questions.

Back then—at least among my spiritual kin—those who asked questions were considered troublemakers, trifling, and disruptive.

And perhaps I was all those things at times. But raising hell wasn’t my intent. I would have done just about anything to fit in, to be among the majority who simply believed our church’s doctrine without ever feeling the need to question it.

Today, those of us who ask faith questions are more welcomed among God’s family. Sometimes, depending on what kind of questions we ask and the spiritual environment we exist inside, we’re even accepted as an important part of the faith process. And for that, I am grateful.

But it’s still not easy. For many reasons.

For one thing, many Christians assume that those of us who ask questions are looking for answers. That we’re asking a question in hopes of gleaning new insight about a subject we’re clueless about. I don’t mind people telling me their answers. But my asking the question wasn’t to learn their answer. In most instances, I’ve heard the answer many times before. I just don’t buy the answer. My asking a question is simply a pursuit to engage dialogue, to hear how somebody came to their conclusions. I’m not looking for somebody to tell me what to believe. I just want to hear their story of faith.

Sometimes I ask questions in hopes of creating spiritual space for those of us without firm conclusions on a particular topic or idea. People insert God’s name into some very peculiar statements on occasion, statements they’re hoping that I’ll affirm with a nod or an “amen.” Sometimes the only polite response is to ask question.

Another problem with asking questions is timing. Timing is so important. I’ve learned that the hard way. I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth on a myriad of occasions. And I’ve paid for it dearly. There’s a time for me to ask and there’s a time for me to keep my damn mouth shut and smile.

And sometimes we still don’t fit in. While questioners are more welcomed in today’s faith circles than when I was a kid, there’s still a certain stigma that some Christians like to put on us. I still get called a troublemaker. And my father still thinks I’m trifling sometimes. But people like me who have survived bad church experiences or spiritual abuse situations often get labeled as angry or “still lost in our past.” Which might be true in some cases. A person’s spirituality is the deepest part of their being. When that is abused, the effects are long and the healing processes are slow, muddied by doctrines and ideas that trigger all kinds of emotions.

“They treat me like I’m unfinished or incomplete.” That’s how a friend of mine described a small group experience. “I made the mistake of asking several questions about their understanding of the Creation story and suddenly I felt like everybody in the room wanted to lay hands on me and pray.”

I know that feeling. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned better how to navigate uncomfortable situations like that. But it’s not an easy road, mostly because there are still occasions when asking a question has left me feeling like I’d wandered into my own intervention, surrounded by good people try to fix whatever they think ails me. Of course, sometimes that feeling is a product of my own imagination and sometimes it’s indeed real. Because there are some Christian answers that many deem so fundamentally important that to question them is to denounce faith.

But for me at least, asking questions is a real necessary part of my faith. It’s not all of my faith, but it’s always present. Asking questions is how my head and heart was wired. I’m not saying it’s always a good thing. But it’s who I am. It’s how I was made. And it doesn’t mean I’m broken.

And if you want to question that, be my guest.

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