It occurred to me today that all of the great works of
literature and art that we now look to for answers began with questions.
Socrates questioned how we could determine what right and
wrong are when not even the gods can agree on such things, and now I believe
there is only one God. Voltaire, Moore,
and Swift all questioned (and ruthlessly satirized) the reasons society and
culture function the way they do, and now I am a pessimist with the best of
them. Bartok questioned why the fugue
couldn't be perfectly symmetrical and wrote a piece based on “the devil’s
interval” which would have been criticized and condemned a few centuries before
his time. Simone de Beauvior questioned
a woman’s role and realized that she had the intellectual capacity to begin to
offer answers to her own questions. More
recently, Andres Serrano questioned whether the final product of a piece of art
was more important than the medium when he submerged a crucifix in his own
urine, photographed it, and presented us with a picture that was ethereal,
surreal, and holy (until we learned the medium/read the title). Ke$ha questioned whether or not a party could
start until she walked in, and the answer is yes. Yes it can.
So I looked up to the sky, then the ground, and then directly
in front of me, questioning on which level God in his omnipresence might dwell,
and then I told him that I am not certain about anything about him other than
that Jesus is God. Then I told him that
I am actually not certain about anything at all. Then I napped because I’m currently suffering
from food poisoning and figured that I was delirious and needed sleep more than
I need to inform God of how ignorant I am, as he already knows.
There is a point somewhere in there, I believe, and I
believe that point may be that questions propel us forward. I am not saying that because I have a lot of
questions and feel the need to justify having them. I am saying this because I am currently
experiencing that asking questions provides a lot more knowledge than having
answers, and that being certain about much of anything can actually be
dangerous.
As far as how this related to interning with IJM, I have
been facing the question, “What does justice look like when combined with a
Christ-like grace?”
Because I will never clap when someone gets arrested.
And my mind went back to 2006ish to the infamous Amish
schoolhouse shooting.
Charles Carl Roberts decided one morning to walk into an
Amish schoolhouse and open fire on ten girls before killing himself. Five girls were killed and five were injured.
The Amish community reacted by forgiving Roberts and
attending his funeral (easier said than done).
Robert’s mom reacted by offering herself weekly to read and play with
one of the girls who is now confined to a wheelchair.
Tragedy and injustice built community, and as difficult as
that is, and even though I’m sure fathers and mothers who lost daughters often
question their ability to forgive, the story they are telling is one of grace
and love.
When someone is arrested, I will continue to keep my hands
at my side even though I don’t have the answer to what grace and justice should
look like when they are in sync.
And I will keep asking questions about everything and never
blindly accept anything as truth.
So. When lying on bed, begging death to just come for me already, being a little over-dramatic,
and having way too much time to think because being sick is boring, and my brain starts going…
How come when I repeat a word over and over, it stops being
a word? Is there really a cure for every
disease, or are some just going to remain incurable no matter how hard we try? Why does communal hate seem to bring people
closer together than communal love?
Where can I get toilet paper at 2am?
If the Bible has been used to justify oppression, slavery, segregation,
and all other kinds of evils, what evils are we attempting to justify
today? If it’s going to take 100 years
to map the brain, why doesn't someone get on that already? Does God exist inside or outside of
time? If he exists in time, then do we
really have free will? If he exists
outside of time, then what is the purpose of prayer? Is there anything creepier than that baby
that lived in the sun from the Teletubbies?
How is the universe constantly expanding, and what fills the area where
the edge of the universe has yet to reach?
What would bring peace to Sudan?
Will I ever understand the stock market?
If I stare at my hand long enough, am I seeing my cells duplicate? Who on planet earth encouraged Stephanie
Meyers to go into writing, and where can I find them? Does anyone else have these questions?
…And I ultimately end up underneath my bed asking my dog why
people can’t just all get along…
…maybe the hopelessness I feel is actually leading
somewhere.
My love to each of you,
W
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