Truth Really Matters

Karl Barth, a theologian, although not a good one, did write truthfully when he insisted, “No one is excused from the task of asking questions or the more difficult task of providing and assessing answers.” Within each church, each Christian community, people have a responsibility to ask questions and the more mature or learned leaders to welcome those questions. Errors and heresies arise not primarily from teachers just blabbing them out, but rather from unasked questions that murmur and fester without resolution.

But this takes time, one objects. Where in the program do we have time for questions? Yet the church has nothing but time. What is more important than using the time set aside for Christians to meet than to help believers understand what they don’t know? This is the argument that Matthew Lee Anderson makes in his 2023 book, Called into Questions: Cultivating the Love of Learning Within the Life of Faith.

The older we get the more risk it seems is attached to fundamental questions. We expect the young to be explorers; we don’t chide the child for ‘dumb questions.’ The aged, however, might risk reputation or embarrassment when voicing a question that troubles him. It’s harder to continue exploring in ‘maturity,’ but then maturity must include humility as a requisite to continued growth.

The most fundamental questions are best resolved young, but far better late than not at all. Death, as the ultimate example, is “the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns,” as Hamlet described. “Death,” Anderson notes, “is not only the great question mark at the end of our lives, though; it puts a question mark over our lives, calling into question the meaning and value of everything we have been and done. There is no greater unknown, no more difficult question that we can face, than whether we are ready to die.”

Accordingly, we must ask questions to prepare for death. Jesus promised that if we seek, we shall find . . . ultimately, Him – the Way, the Truth, and the Life, eternal life. If we seek to find out what God expects of us in this life, we will find that we need forgiveness, that we must repent, and we must put our faith, our trust, in the Lord Jesus, who gave Himself for our sins and rose again to demonstrate that He has the technology and the power to resurrect our own bodies, to grace us with eternal life.

I have marveled over many years, in doing street and door-to-door evangelism, how few are the souls who have given much thought to eternity. College students, for example, will devote prodigious efforts to mastering a computer game, or completing course work, or finding just the right job at just the right corporation. Typically, though, most have not put a single hour into investigating what lies beyond the grave; or they have bought into some hopeless con like evolution / materialism or some vague universalism. Most admit to figuring that they will be “OK,” since everyone around them feels the same about it.

It is vital, in fact it is the mission of Christians to learn to ask questions, both to strengthen their own faith, and also to provoke thinking in the lost mind of the soul he is trying to reach. (Who are you trying to reach with the Gospel this week?) Anderson observes that Christians do not do well in training each other to ask helpful questions. In our youth we are trained in school to find answers. We are rewarded for right answers.

Sunday School classes and small groups don’t usually have a question-oriented culture, either. My wife and I have ‘field-tripped’ a large number of evangelical classes and small groups and been invariably dismayed at the lack of curiosity of adult Christians. Questions I have asked are often met with a lack of enthusiasm, especially if the answer is not readily available in the canned study guide. I’ve already written about one of the most disturbing experiences I’ve had in this regard in my essay, “A Popular, but Corrupt Evangelistic Method.”

T.S. Eliot wrote, “old men ought to be explorers.” Questions initiate journeys to reveal the world’s depths, sharpen our attention, and even increase our capacity for joy as we discover new truths. Anderson suggests that with age we can maintain excitement in the novelty of discovery. We always need new questions to explore and we need to hone that skill to disciple the young and to startle the lost fellow into considering the end of the road he blindly follows. How and Why questions can wake someone up or inform us how we might best be of help.

The young question most, Anderson notes, but the wise question best. As we learn, we question better, which leads to learning more. When I was a new grad student I sat in on a seminar presented by a PhD student on his research in a sub-field I didn’t know much about. Most of it was over my head. During the Q&A I envied some of the professors who asked good questions and seemed to resonate with the answers. They were learning more than I was at that seminar because they already knew a lot. I was determined to get to that level myself.

Anderson talks about indifference, noting that “It is hard to instill a desire for learning where one does not already exist.” In sharing the Gospel with multitudes over the years I can attest that the biggest spiritual killer is apathy. The ‘whatever’ attitude is far deadlier than atheism or occultism or growing up in a false religion. I wish there were a magic bullet to overcome apathy. But that’s where prayer comes into play. The Lord can easily provoke circumstances and conscience if He particularly targets a lost soul, which depends strongly on whether a Christian cares about that soul.

There is an interesting passage on the questions God poses to Job; for example, “Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth?” G.K. Chesterton suggested that the “riddles of God are more satisfying than the answers of man.” Sometimes we cannot find an answer because God simply wants us to trust Him. In short, He is the Answer.

When I was growing up, I occasionally heard the assertion, “There are no dumb questions.” But eventually I decided that there are, indeed, dumb questions. They come in four types:

1. You already know the answer. (And so you are wasting everyone’s time.)
2. No one knows the answer. (How many hairs are on your head? God knows, but He’s not telling.)
3. The question is incoherent – it makes no sense. (What does blue taste like?)
4. Who cares? (What’s the price of eggs in Tasmania? (If you don’t live in Tasmania.))

Jesus asked a lot of good questions when He walked among us. In the Sermon on the Mount, He asks, “Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savor, wherewith shall it be salted?” We are challenged to wonder whether we have lost our ‘saltiness’ and to realize our inability to restore it ourselves.

Questions may derive from evil intent. Rather than disparage God directly, the serpent asked Eve, “Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?” He got Eve thinking, tempting her to come up with her own ideas about reality. God had given permission to eat of every tree, except one – tremendous liberty! Satan focused Eve’s attention on the single prohibition and then denied that God would deliver the promised consequences.

In Luke 10 a lawyer asks a question not in good faith: “And who is my neighbor?” We are grateful he did, because Jesus did not give a brief declarative answer. Rather, He gave us the parable of the Good Samaritan. The lawyer conceded the point. How could he otherwise?

Anderson: “There are no neutral questions we can put to the world: we are always moving deeper into the love of God or into rebellion against Him.”

Mary questions Gabriel, startled by his announcement, “How shall this be, seeing I know not a man?” The angel answers the young lady patiently and she responds with humility and obedience. The old priest, Zechariah, asks a similar question, when Gabriel visits him with the promise that he will have a son: “Whereby shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife well stricken in years.” This is a dumb question, because he should have known the answer – God had decreed this! Zechariah pays the price with the inability to speak until the child arrives. We are accountable for what we have learned as we mature. Similarly, Nicodemus is rebuked by Jesus for being a teacher and not understanding the fundamental spiritual truths the Lord shared with him.

Lament is a language and prayer form often neglected in ‘upbeat’ evangelical churches. Nevertheless, God wrote a book entitled Lamentations and many of the Psalms pour out the heart to God. Jesus promised, “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.”

Anderson cites Psalm 13 as a poignant case in which laments are voiced as questions: “How long wilt thou forget me, O LORD? For ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? How long shall mine enemy be exalted over me?”

The psalmist cries out to God for help, but he is honest about his frustration that God has not already acted. We may as well be completely honest with God about how we feel. He already knows. I believe the psalms are written in part to assure us that complete openness with the Lord is the righteous pattern. That goes against our natural reticence if we must plead with an earthly executive or ruler. Typical of many psalms, consider how this one ends: “But I have trusted in thy mercy; my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. I will sing unto the LORD, because he hath dealt bountifully with me.” Expressing gratitude and trust is also part of the pattern, especially when coupled with lament.

Anderson expresses an interesting criticism of the emphasis on apologetics over the last generation. Christian parents may rely on works of apologetics to shore up the confidence of their children regarding the foundations of their faith. Anderson is concerned that anxieties about faith cannot ultimately be satisfied by evidences to defend it. He would rather emphasize a love for the truth for its own sake.

I tend to agree with him in that his concern is clearly about evidential apologetics. ‘Love for the truth’ is, however, clearly manifest in presuppositional apologetics, which starts with the Bible as foundational – as TRUTH – and goes on to demonstrate that everything under the sun that you care to mention makes perfect sense in a biblical worldview. Whether it is the nano-complexity of life, the order of stellar orbits in galaxies, the intercontinental sedimentary flood layers, the immaterial nature of consciousness, the moral conscience in every man and woman, or even the heights and depths men plumb in political activism . . . God’s word makes sense of our physical creation and the psychological and spiritual nature of man. Accordingly, in evangelism and discipleship, we must use questions to help people think about what they believe and why they believe it.

For example, to the atheist / evolutionist / materialist: “If everything, including you, is just a collection of molecules in motion, then the next thing you say – is it just brain chemistry or is there a you in there, expressing a rational thought, something that makes logical sense?” If you can get the atheist to recognize that he exists – as a person – and he always will, then it is a short step to God’s existence. (See my tract, “Who are you?” at ThinkTracts.com)

When I was a grad student I would go for walks at night, asking myself questions about my coursework or my research. It was easy for me to come up with tough questions because I was always painfully aware of what technical issues I was struggling with. My questions would lead to ideas – not necessarily answers right away – for exploration. Similarly, when I served as a faculty advisor for a large number of undergraduate research teams, I would frequently get questions from students who hit a wall on their projects. I wouldn’t always have the answer they needed, but I invariably could suggest an approach for them to find that answer.

Anderson happily suggests that there is no undiscovered country that the Christian need explore on his own. God knows us and He knows what we don’t know, and God will lead us into good. “Wonder and confusion are God’s secret call to search out His creation. God goes with us in our exploring, guiding our steps and leading us by His light. Questions bring us to the limits of our knowledge.”

If the passionate exploration of God’s riches in knowledge and wisdom are not part of our lives now, then when? Life races by; our days are numbered. We are each given a pilgrimage – what might God want you to learn and do before your pilgrimage ends? I’d hate to find out that there were riches just over the next hill if I had just taken a few more steps to look.

Anderson contrasts earthly with spiritual warfare. In a combat unit there are times where questions have no place – orders must be obeyed, lives are at stake. In the church, unity is vital, too, but time must be taken, even in the midst of battle, to teach, to pray, to construct the “weapons of our warfare,” employing them in “casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God.” Paul exhorted the Corinthian church that they “be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgment.”

In order to insure its members are healthy and strong, a local church must take time to ask and answer questions. It takes a long time, with intention, to build a culture where people feel the liberty to ask questions. And they need to practice articulating questions. During my teaching career I asked a lot of questions. I was gratified when students freely asked questions. In 1-2-1 evangelism, one of the best indications that you’re getting traction when sharing the Gospel with someone is that he begins to ask questions. I love those questions. Encourage and compliment people when they ask sincere questions.

Churches that have scripted and scheduled every minute of their meetings are defying God’s principles for the New Testament church that He designed. Scripts are poor teachers. The most conservative churches (I’m thinking of the Independent Fundamental Baptist variety) tend toward the most controlled. The fear is obvious in many cases. If there are questions, doubts may arise. Doubts may turn into dissension, controversy, and division. It’s far better to script everything and let the Senior Pastor do all the talking! But if you guarantee safety, you also guarantee stunted growth. Your people won’t even engage in the spiritual warfare God has called them to.

I recall an IFB church we were part of for a while. The cultural mandate was pastoral authority and control. In getting to know quite a few adult members, I discovered a variety of doctrinal perspectives, even crossing into heresy. The pastoral staff was clueless. There was no opportunity for substantive discussion. “Every man did that which was right in his own eyes.”

Among believers, Anderson insists, all questions must be on the table. Can Christians answer such basics as, “Is Jesus really God? How do we know?” “Do we have to take Genesis literally?” “Didn’t they speak in tongues in the Book of Acts? So why aren’t we Pentecostals?” “Does it matter whether the Rapture happens before, during, or after the Tribulation?” “My friends at school are woke. What’s wrong with that?” Church members – not just the Pastor – must work to understand and to articulate the best answers. It’s OK if it takes some work. It’s OK if you have to go study and think about it for a while.

Anderson: “When distortions, objections, and false teachings go unanswered by church leaders, the laity can only conclude that the positions being attacked need not be defended.” But when tough questions are encouraged and answered, especially those that go against the worldly flow, Christians will be both motivated and equipped to engage in their own spheres.

A good question can reorient or clarify a conversation. In a group, Anderson observes, a good question – one that everyone may have had in mind, but were too shy to ask – can transform the meeting. “Everyone leans in and focuses a little more.” Suddenly, no one is drifting off to sleep.

Some questions are ultimate. In Matthew 16, Jesus asks his disciples, “Whom do men say that I the Son of man am?” They responded that some thought he was John the Baptist, perhaps resurrected, some Elijah, some Jeremiah, and some thought he was some other prophet. Then Jesus asked, “But whom say ye that I am?” Peter got it in one: “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

We must each decide what reality is. Is this God’s reality, its principles revealed in the Bible? Or is it some other religious or materialist fantasy? The Christian knows that reality is sourced in One Person, the Lord Jesus Christ. Find Him and all important questions are answered. What mysteries remain will be resolved upon His return, which He promised can come at any time.

Anderson offers some questions to those who were raised in some semblance of the Christian faith, but decided to forsake it. “Are you sure that deconstructing is the right stance to take toward the intellectual and religious inheritance you have received?” Is it possible that you know too little of the Christian faith to throw it away completely? Anderson contrasts the aim of debunking with the aim of understanding to discover how and why a system works. Debunking offers no constructive alternatives; it simply attacks. Cynicism is an attitude, not a system of analysis.

I have listened to deconstructors. Their motivating reasons are invariably pitiful. The supposed ‘fact’ of evolution is a popular excuse, but the typical deconstructor has studied no creationist or intelligent design literature. He could not defend his new evolutionary belief even superficially.

To those who have been offended by a church he asks, “Do you think it noble or good to love your enemies? Are your questions to the church motivated by charity or suspicion? Are your questions aimed at calling the church to repentance – or destroying it? Would you prefer a church that only offers comfort, or are you willing to accept one that makes demands?”

I appreciate the author’s conclusion: “Christianity is far stranger than many of its critics know and more compelling than most of its defenders can imagine. If it is true, eveything hangs upon it.”

Indeed. God’s words to us are light and life. Or they are nothing at all. If you have questions about the ultimate issues, then look for answers. Go ahead and bother people who might know something about it. Write to me if you like.

• drdave@truthreallymatters.com