Schaeffer believed passionately that historic biblical
Christianity had something of substance to say into every sphere of life and
culture. Nothing is neutral, in other words, but exists in light of Christ’s Lordship
over all, just as St Paul argued, using terms that are so inclusive that the
claim becomes exclusive:
He is the image of the
invisible God, the first-born of all creation; for in him all things were
created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or
dominions or principalities or authorities—all things were created through him
and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He
is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the first-born from
the dead, that in everything he might be pre-eminent. 19 For in him all the
fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself
all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his
cross (Colossians 1:15-20).
This gave rise naturally to a theme in Schaeffer’s life and
thinking that shaped his interactions with everyone he met. “Honest questions
deserve honest answers.”
It’s a very simple idea, but surprisingly rare in
demonstration. Rarely do people find themselves in places safe enough that
honest questions can be easily voiced. Rarely are questions welcomed that call
into doubt whatever orthodoxy—whether political, religious,
philosophical—happens to be ascendant. Rarely are people given the grace of
unhurried time so that the doubts festering in their souls can take the form of
actual questions. Rarely are conversations open enough to pursue actual answers
to the deeper things that matter most.
Rather than honest answers, most often quick responses are
given to honest questions. Such responses are always tinged with either
sentimentality or cynicism, satisfying for those who give them but insufficient
for life.
Honest questions deserve honest answers. Such a conviction
does not require humorlessness as if everything is equally solemn. Sometimes, hearty
laughter together is the best answer, revealing as it does the folly that
masquerades as wisdom in a broken world.
Honest questions are valuable because each questioner is
made in God’s image. Honest answers are possible because reality is not a
meaningless assortment of synaptic firings set in motion by the random events
of an impersonal cosmos. Instead, life makes sense and reality holds together
because God exists, has spoken in his word, and, in St John’s brilliant
phrasing, “The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood”
(John 1:14).
So, we see as though through a glass darkly, as St Paul
insists (1 Corinthians 13:12), which is certainly true, but that’s not the same
as being in total darkness. A light shines in the darkness, St John reminds us,
and the darkness, even at its most furious cannot put it out (John 1:5, 9). We
ask honest questions, often reply, “I don’t know,” but the conversation can
continue, asking questions of the question and exploring the possibility of
answers.
Honest questions deserve honest answers. I’ve often thought
that if demonstrating this was my only significance in life, it would be
enough.
(to be continued)
Source: "Art Question Mark" online (www.creoflick.net)
I've been thinking about the various questions people ask without thinking. Questions like, "How are you?" or "What do you do?" On the one hand such questions are rather mindless, and when someone answers them seriously it can take the questioner by surprise. On the other hand, such questions serve a social function. They serve as ice-breakers, getting a conversation started that (hopefully) can be more thoughtful.
One type of question, however, though well meaning enough, poses a difficulty for some. The questions of this type include, "Where are you working?" or "What do you do?" or "What would you like to be doing in 5 years?"
The reason is that for some people, how they earn a living is not all that significant. They may be washing windows or working as a receptionist to earn a living, but at heart they are artists. Their art is what really defines their gifts and calling, but the question doesn't get at that. It not only asks a question that skirts who they really are, it raises a sense of guilt over the fact that they aren't on a career path. Or they may be one of the many who need to experiment before discovering what they are all about. Rather than treat them as an individual, the questions assume everyone fits into the identical (secular) framework of jobs or careers, with efficiency and success as standards for significance. In fact, such a perspective is merely a modern variation on the tower of Babel.
So, I request some comments from you, dear reader. What question(s) should we begin asking so that we include these of our sisters and brothers who feel, correctly, a bit oppressed by the ordinary opening inquiries?
After all, even the questions we Christians ask reflexively and without thinking come under the Lordship of Christ. I look forward to your suggestions.