LIFE'S PARAMOUNT QUESTIONS

I have always been fascinated by the questions Jesus asked. Though he did not need to, in his divinity and in his humanity, his questions were genuine and compendious. I have been mulling over and rehearsing some of Jesus' questions for the last several days as I ransacked the questions in the Book of John. I believe his questions pierced the hearts of those he spoke to and sparked introspection unlike any other. I also believe Jesus is still asking the same questions of today's hearers. Knowing the state of our souls perfectly, he waits patiently, without condemnation, until we “come clean” and are honest with ourselves. When we do, we discover our souls’ true longings, which have always been aligned with what Jesus desires in and from us.

What do you want?
According to John, this question is the first words spoken by Jesus in the Book of John. It must have seared into John’s mind that decades later, the first sentence out of Jesus’ mouth that John wrote was this question. It is easy to blow by this question and not take it seriously. I did. I was taught that what I want or desire was not important. All I needed was complete and undivided obedience. Later in life, this question changed my life. As I began to take my desires seriously, a whole new world opened up for me. My current life trajectory would not be possible without asking this question over and over again.

Do you want to get well again?

Technically, this is a closed question, at least in the translation. We have two responses: yes or no. Jesus is compelling us to say yes and to consider what getting well means for us. Being well or getting well is impossible without Jesus’ healing, because Jesus is the source of our wellness. In the original Greek, the word for well means “whole.” Jesus is after our wholeness: body, mind, emotion, and spirit. I am in the middle of a six-week online course called Embracing Emotions. I have long known that emotion is the most deficient aspect in pursuing my wholeness. Then there is the word again. “Again” represents unceasing hope and grace, like the morning sun, whether we see it or not. Grace will not be grace unless it is forever unconditional.

Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?
Here, Jesus wants our participation. He is not merely asking where. Like a good Jew, he is communicating slantly, “testing Philip,” and inviting us to do something about people’s needs—the world’s needs. It seems that the world’s hunger must have local immediacy as the starting point. Sure enough, like good Jews, the disciples, or in this case, Peter, went to work and found a boy with five barley loaves and two fish who was willing to share. Unconvinced, Peter asked Jesus, “But what good is that with this huge crowd?” After ignoring Peter’s question, Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” After our service, Jesus does his work of making us relax, followed by a miracle. Today, Jesus still asks us where we will find bread for the world’s hunger. The invitation is to do our small part of “finding a boy.” Miracles are dependent on our small actions. 

Who are you looking for?
For most of our lives, we look in the wrong places and at the wrong people. I did. I looked at ego-building and maintenance efforts, so I could save myself and fool myself into thinking I was good or godly. Worse still, I convinced myself that I was doing God’s work in God’s way. One lesson I learned is that we do not look to the right place—Jesus—until we fall, and fall hard. From there, the only way is to look up, as we can no longer save ourselves. Paradoxically, that is a great place to look, look up. I think I understand why Julian of Norwich said, “First there is the fall, and then we recover from the fall. Both are the mercy of God.”

Do you love me?
All other questions by Jesus melt away with this uncomplicated, intimate, and yet heart-pounding question. At the end of the day and our lives, this is the only question that matters in our human and spiritual journey. Here, Jesus is personalizing the Great Commandment, which demands or invokes our obedience. I can no longer hide behind the plural “you.” By asking, “Do you love me?” with his eyes locking with mine, I have no other place to hide than to meet his eyes. The eyes of Jesus are filled with compassion as I have failed over and over again, like Peter. There is a saving grace in that our love does not have to be the “agapao” kind, but the best human “phileo” kind. Every single day and moment, the hound of heaven in Jesus goes around and asks everyone who would stop to listen, “Do you love me?” How we respond to this question can change our lives.