Question It: Questions to explore

You know, I know I've told you all the story of Ignac Simel Weiss before, but it's a story that comes to me often because I find it one of the most fascinating examples of our human flaw of how we resist change.

In 1847, Simel Weiss was a young obstetrician living in Vienna.

And at the time, the maternal death rate of women who gave birth in his hospital was 20%.

Almost a quarter of the women who gave birth in his child in his hospital died from what was called childbed fever.

However, for women who gave birth at home, the mortality rate was 1%.

So this is when Simon Weiss asked a simple question that no one had asked before.

Why?

Or maybe his question was, what?

What is causing these infections?

Because this was before we understood that germs carry diseases.

And actually the question he landed on was who?

Who is transmitting this infection?

I mean, if we haven't discovered the what yet, at least we could figure out who.

If the mortality rate in the hospital was 20%, but only 1% at home, what is the difference?

Well, doctors and other patients.

So Simon Weiss asked the question: could doctors be carrying the infection from one patient to another?

And as a good scientist, he tested his hypothesis.

He required every doctor and nurse to scrub their hands with a nail brush and chlorine between each patient.

And immediately the infections of childbed fever dropped to 1%.

An amazing, irrefutable discovery.

You would think this is when hand washing became a simple practice instituted in every hospital and saved millions of lives.

Nope.

Because this is not a story of how asking questions leads to solid answers and discoveries.

This is a story of how questions make us uncomfortable and how they challenge us and disrupt us.

Other physicians were offended that he would speculate that they were the cause of harm to their patients.

They were there to help them.

There's no way they could be the problem.

And so instead, they blamed and scolded Simelweiss for his questioning of them.

And he was fired from his hospital just for raising the questions.

Regular hand washing between patients wasn't instituted for 20 more years after a British doctor published a study.

Questions are the engine of discovery.

They open up new possibilities.

They allow us to wonder.

They make us see things in new ways.

Questions move us forward to see beyond what we know and understand now.

So why are we so threatened by them?

Because questions are disruptive.

They make us examine things we think are settled and want to stay settled.

Questions spark change when we examine and test things.

And for the most part, we often receive change as a threat.

Just like Simel Weiss's colleagues.

And if that's how questions can be received in a medical and scientific community, think about how much more of a threat they are in the arena of faith.

I mean, Christianity doesn't have the greatest track record to embracing questions.

Simel Weiss's rejection was a walk in the park in comparison to how the church treated other scientists like Galileo and Newton.

The Christian church's fear of questions makes it seem like our beliefs are only built upon things that don't hold up under scrutiny.

Creation, miracles, divine beings, life beyond the physical.

And so instead of following curiosity to find more solid footing, we've tried to reject questions altogether.

If we ask questions, it must mean we're doubting.

In the faith arena, question and doubting are often used synonymously.

We tell people doubt is corrosive and can lead to a crisis of faith.

And we've come up with catchy sayings like, God said it, I believe it, that settles it.

And at some points, and in some religious circles, even asking, did God say it, is considered doubt in the least and heresy at the worst.

But I know this to be true.

Whatever the arena, whether it's religion or government, science, education, business, any authority that doesn't like questions is the most fragile.

And usually the ones trying to exert control.

It's a wonder why Christianity is waning.

It's not because people are uncomfortable with our questions, it's because they don't want to feel control.

As one of my seminary professors said, if your faith is really that fragile, it might be an idol to begin with.

If our faith can't withstand questions, what's the purpose?

And I've seen how those who refuse to question their faith fall into crisis the fastest when the normal things of life happen.

Because to them, faith is not seeking understanding of God, but a force field that's supposed to keep them from harm.

So when they do get that diagnosis or that prayer isn't answered, their faith withers like flowers in the summer sun.

Anne Lamont said it this way: the enemy of faith is not doubt, it's certainty.

The problem is thinking we already know it all and we have it all figured out.

That's usually when things start to crumble.

But doubt or questioning is actually courageous curiosity.

It's the engine of discovery.

Questions allow us to chase after truth.

In fact, all throughout the Bible, just when someone thinks they've got everything settled or they've got everything figured out, God comes along and starts asking questions.

Questions in the Bible come not from those who are doubting anything, it's usually from God.

And one day, Abraham and Sarah are camped by the oaks of memory, and God comes to visit.

God appears as three mysterious travelers.

And Abraham has a great feast prepared for them, and as they eat, God says, Your wife Sarah is going to have a son.

But Sarah is past childbearing age, and so when she hears this, she laughs.

It was probably more like a scoff.

And she's certain it isn't possible.

She's lived her whole life waiting for a child and has resigned herself to it.

It would be impossible.

But when God hears her scoff, God asks, Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?

Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?

That's a question that invites possibility.

It immediately sparks wonder as to what God is capable of.

It certainly doesn't spark the doubt.

In fact, the doubt is already there in Abraham and Sarah who scoff at what God has told them.

God's question takes them beyond their doubt to explore what God can make possible.

Questions are not the threat of our faith, they're the engine of it.

Back many years ago when I was in college, I was taking a theology class and I was preparing for a presentation, and I was going over my presentation with my professor the day before, and in it I said something like transformation and growth always come through struggle or suffering.

And my professor interrupted me and said, Do you believe that?

And I said, I don't know, do I?

And she said, Well, it's a bold statement, so you might want to think about it deeply before you make it.

This professor was notorious for this kind of thing.

In fact, she had a sign on her office door that said, question it.

And so she and I spent a long time that afternoon just asking ourselves questions about that.

Does transformation always come through struggle?

Can we experience growth without some form of struggle?

Is all suffering redemptive?

Meaning, is there some suffering that's just suffering and doesn't offer relief?

Does God cause suffering so that we will be transformed?

And if so, is some suffering a gift rather than a punishment from God?

Does everyone who struggles experience transformation?

Or can you simply fall into despair?

Is despair a form of transformation?

I stayed up most of that night reworking that presentation, wrestling with those questions, cussing my professor.

And I never landed on any answers.

In fact, after 30 years, I still don't have solid answers to those questions.

But it's never been an issue of doubt or a crisis of faith.

In fact, at times I think these questions have been what have held me together.

In those times that I have struggled or suffered, it's been these questions that have helped me see the possibilities.

Is there anything redemptive in this experience?

Will I be transformed by this?

Where is God in this?

Is there meaning in all of this?

Asking questions kept me open to what may be beyond my struggle.

And instead of staying stuck on answers that don't hold up anymore, the questions have kept me chasing after truth.

They aren't settling or comfortable.

But these questions have allowed me to explore all the possibilities of what God can do.

Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?

I don't know.

We should ask.

Amen.