If you know me, you know that I tend to be blunt.  Awkwardly so.

Being that blunt objects aren’t allowed at funerals, I’ve had to learn the art of professional speak.  Professional speak in the funeral business is the art of saying what you want to say without really saying it.

Situation Number 1:

Blunt Caleb:  “When we picked your dad up from the nursing home, he was looking all purple and reddish, but after we embalmed him, we were able to flush the discoloration out of his face.”

Professional speak, “Your dad looks great.”

Situation Number 2:

Blunt Caleb: “Do you want that beard shaved off your mom’s face?”

Professional speak Caleb ignores asking that question all together and just shaves mom’s face.

Americans — maybe even Westerns as a whole — are impatient.  We rarely have quiet.  The TV’s constantly on.  Our smart phones are ever at our side.   Ear buds in our ears.  Meditation is a foreign concept.  Prayer is avoidable at all costs.  And the patience learned in the silence is never attained.  And then comes death and the silence that comes with it.  The meditation.  The prayer.  The lack of words.  And when the results of grief work don’t come immediately, we become impatient and think, “Something is dreadfully wrong with me!”  And we’re right.  We usually conclude that we’re deeply depressed; the reality may simply be that we’re deeply and intrinsically impatient, unable to find the peace in the silence that comes from death.  Maybe we’re just as afraid of the silence as we are of death.

Death brings its own pace of life … its own schedule.  It’s never convenient.  But we want it to be.  We want to control it.  We want to put it on an itinerary that fits our fast paced, purpose driven lifestyles.

Perhaps that battle for control is nowhere more apparent than at a viewing, especially when the viewing line mimics the slow moving, long lines we see at a popular amusement park ride.

This past Saturday night, I stood there behind the register book, striking up conversation with people as they enter the sanctuary.  The viewing line snakes around the church, down the hall and into the basement as we try to extend it through the corridors of the church so as to keep the line from going out into the cold elements of a Pennsylvania winter.  The family of the deceased is taking their time, talking to each and every person who has come out on this chilly night.

“Other funeral directors stand by the family’s receiving line and tell them to keep their conversations short and simply”, one person stated.

“We don’t do that”, I said politely.

Another couple comes through the line and complains that they’ve been standing in line for half-an-hour AND by the look of things, they’ll probably be in line for another half-an-hour.  “Can’t you do anything?”  they beg.

I try to make a joke … I tell them that, like Disney World, we are going to create an express line, where you can bypass the crowd for a fee.  “That’s a great idea”, they say.  “We’d pay $50 to skip this line.”

After having this conversation about 10 times over the next hour, I’m getting tired of my joke and I’m getting tired of people complaining.

I want to grab their dress shirts, pull them nose to nose with my face and whisper, “This isn’t about you.”  But that would be blunt Caleb speaking and that Caleb isn’t allowed around death.

Perhaps the greatest loss that comes with the drone of our busy lives is that in losing silence, we’ve lost patience, and in losing patience we’ve become so inherently selfish that when we go to a funeral we forget that it’s not about us.

Ash Wednesday isn’t suppose to be comfortable.  It’s a day when the church takes repentance public.  A day when something we usually reserve for the private sphere get’s pushed into the public sphere.  It’s a day when repentance becomes corporate.  When repentance is there for all to see, with the sign of the cross inscribed in ash on our foreheads.

And it’s not just a time of repentance, but it’s also a time of relinquishment … relinquishment of our project of immortality.

As I wrote earlier this week:

Denial of death, for Pulitzer Prize winner Ernest Becker, is an all encompassing explanation for human endeavors.

Death, though, for Becker has two levels of meaning: The first level is phyiscal death.  After all, how many times a day do we attempt to distance ourselves from death?  Do you eat healthy?  Do you wear a seat belt?

The second understanding of death plays more into our discussion.  This type of death can occur during life. It’s the type of death that takes place when we experience a loss of meaning, worth or affirmation.  And this type of death, though it will happen eventually for us all, is what most of us work so hard to deny.

Ash Wednesday is an acknowledgement of Ernest Becker’s second type of death.  It’s an acknowledgement of our mortality; an acknowledge of our finitude; and an acknowledge of our depravity.

It’s the day we repent for our denial of death. Essentially, it’s a day when we prove Ernest Becker wrong.

It does us good to remember the old saying that is found on some tombstones:

Remember friends as you pass by,
as you are now so once was I.
As I am now so you must be.
Prepare for death and follow me.

It’s good for us to remember that the works of our hands will not last forever.  That our kingdoms will fall.  That America will one day be no more. That our bodies will die.  That our jobs, our business, our children, our name, our political ideals, and even our religion will one day — if they are lucky — find themselves in the annuls of history.  That even our Christianity as we know it will one day be rendered dead.

And maybe this type of doubt is the reason few evangelicals partake in Ash Wednesday.  After all, we have fervently engaged in the project of death denial as we’ve built theological buildings that we believe will last for time eternal.

And maybe it’s right to even press this farther.

Maybe Ash Wednesday is a day when the church should allow ourselves to doubt in the life after this one. That maybe our hopes of heaven are misinterpretations of Jesus’ words.  That maybe all we have is today to love and be loved.  And maybe, in forgetting this next life, we might strive for life now. We might find eternal life before our death.

Ash Wednesday isn’t suppose to be comfortable.  No, there’s nothing comfortable about this day.

“From dust you were made and to dust you shall return.”  – Genesis 3:19

Young woman who have lost their spouses.  Suicides.  One man whose wife was raped then murdered.  Miscarriages.  Then, there are the slow deaths from dementia / Alzheimer’s / cancer, and the limbo of wondering, “What is wrong?” as the dementia turns to anger, abuse and eventual death.

Tragedies.  All.  Darkness I’ve been privileged to feel.

Many have expressed that they’ve wrestled with the “why” that God doesn’t answer.

The “why” that expects a response.  The “why” that pastors say will one day be answered in the next life, when our perspective is clearer and our hearts are closer to God.  The “why” that some Christians claim is soothed by the soft, quiet voice of the Holy Spirit.  And others dismiss because they know with certainty that death was somehow “God’s will.”

Yet, for many believers, and nonbelievers, the answer to this why cannot hold out to the next life.  For too many this “why” is answered, not by the soft, quiet voice of the Spirit, but by the darkness of silence.

A “why” that is only multiplied by silence.  A “why” that grows into disbelief and continues to be solidified by the silence that started it.

*****

The other week we held the funeral for a 50 year old that was killed in a motorcycle accident at our funeral home.

What made this particular situation more tragic wasn’t just the way he died, but the fact that he left his wife, young son and even his father behind.

As I was parking the family vehicles in the procession line, I spoke with the deceased’s mother-in-law for about 10 minutes.

She wanted to talk and I wanted to listen.

She explained to me that, as there were no witnesses to the accident, the theory is that he lost control of his cycle as a result of a deer jumping out in front of him, causing him to attempt an evasive maneuver and lose control of his cycle.

The mother-in-law explained that nobody knows for sure a deer caused him to lose control – as there were no witnesses — but given his superior riding ability, his familiarity with the specific road he was on, and the fact that there were skid marks at the place of his accident all seem to support the theory that he was lost control while attempting to avoid something … that something probably being a deer.

Unknown and unexplainable deaths can often lead to a grey and confusing grief.  I’ve noticed that grief works its way through a person in a slightly healthier manner when it has some explanation, but when there isn’t an explanation … it just sits like a morning fog.

*****

The forever question of “How did he die?” was answered not with a “real” answer, but with an answer that sufficed … that somehow made the grief that would otherwise be grey and confusing into something something slightly more healthy.  It was an answer that we “imagined” from the best evidence we could supply.  An answer from our own imaginations.

And I wonder how often the heavy “whys” of death and God aren’t just answered by our own imaginations.  I wonder how often we simply speculate based on our knowledge that God is good, that death is bad, the man is somewhat free to mess up … that s*** happens.  And after convincing ourselves numerous times over, we simply come to believe that our imagined answer is “the truth.”

The silence to the “why” is so maddening that we just fill it with answers of our own making.

It’s convenient.

It’s easy.

It works.

And maybe it’s somehow healthy for us.

And then I wonder if the silence to our “why” might just be due to the fact that God has no answer.  Maybe he’s not there at all.  Or, maybe we’re asking a question that’s inspired by something that has no response.

A scraped knee …

It’s all going to be okay.

You’re made fun of at school …

It’s all going to be okay.

A high schooler’s cut from the team …

It’s all going to be okay.

Your girlfriend/boyfriend dumps you …

It’s all going to be okay.

Subpar SATs keep you from your ideal college …

It’s all going to be okay.

You drop out of high school …

It’s all going to be okay.

You dream job is just that, so you settle …

It’s all going to be okay.

You miscarry your first child …

It’s all going to be okay.

You have a child when you’re still a child …

It’s all going to be okay.

Your spouse abuses you …

It’s all going to be okay.

You lose your spouse …

It’s all going to be okay.

Your spouse leaves you …

It’s all going to be okay.

Death …

It’s all going to be okay.

******

Is this optimism or just plain bull?

Maybe we’re just not good listeners?

Do we love the answers and hate the questions?

Maybe it’s not alright?

Doubt and silence play a major role in the history of the Church; a role, that for the most part, has been written out of the Protestant and evangelical story.

In the Eastern Orthodox tradition, the method through which they look at theology is called “apophatic theology”, which is contra Western style of theology in that it speaks silence towards God, who is, they say, in many ways, unspeakable.  Cataphatic theology (the Western style), which is what almost all of us in America attempt to do, is the attempt to define God positively, which often involves definition and affirmation.  In other words, our theology often involves many words, while their theology often invokes silence (thus their use of icons as means of meditation during silence).

Silence has been written out of the Western view of God.

Protestant and evangelicals not only like to speak about God, they also like to assert about God.  Doubt it not a part of our paradigm; thus, when somebody begins to doubt aspects of Christianity, it’s looked down upon, whereas in some Christian traditions – especially Orthodox and in some cases Catholicism – doubt is an accepted form of worship.

Thus, Holy Saturday … the Holy Day where doubt and silence is the PROPER POSITION of worship.

In the Catholic and Orthodox tradition, Holy Saturday is the holy day between Good Friday and Easter.  It’s a day when we attempt to understand what the disciples of Christ were feeling.  A day when we put ourselves in their sandals.

A day when we try to understand, as the disciples had, the crucifixion WITHOUT the knowledge of the resurrection.

Chris Patton writes,

“It is a day full of question.  What will become of his message?  Was Jesus the messiah?  How will life come from death?  Does God really have the last word?  Are the powers and principalities really in charge as their killing of Jesus seems to indicate?  I can only try to imagine what the disciples were going through. This was not just a friend dying.  The disciples’ view of the future, their hope for what was to come, a new way of life, all hinged on Jesus … maybe we should change the name from Holy Saturday to Doubting Saturday.  I don’t think anything Holy was going on in the disciples’ mind.  Fear, frustration, anger, depression – doubt must have been a hundred pound weight on their chest.  (For a more expansive article on Holy Saturday, check out this link)

Holy Saturday is a day when the church belongs to the doubters. It’s a day when we as Western Christians should do two things we are very uncomfortable with: embrace doubt and silence.

I believe the Spirit guides, but for me, it always seems as though the Spirit is guiding with more questions than answers. I want him to be a GPS, but apparently he’s a teacher in the tradition of Jesus (

If we look at the way Jesus’ taught, it was sometimes via statements and often via response question.  Here’s a list of Jesus’ questions.  I know it’s long, but it’s interesting. (If you want, you can skip down to the bottom)

1. Matthew 9:14-15 (NIV) ¹⁴ Then John’s disciples came and asked him, “How is it that we and the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?” ¹⁵ Jesus answered, “How can the guests of the bridegroom mourn while he is with them?
2. Matthew 15:1-3 (NIV) Then some Pharisees and teachers of the law came to Jesus from Jerusalem and asked, ² “Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders? They don’t wash their hands before they eat!” ³ Jesus replied, “And why do you break the command of God for the sake of your tradition?
3. Matthew 15:32-34 (NIV) ³³ His disciples answered, “Where could we get enough bread in this remote place to feed such a crowd?” ³⁴ “How many loaves do you have?” Jesus asked.
4. Matthew 17:24-26 (NIV) ²⁴ After Jesus and his disciples arrived in Capernaum, the collectors of the two-drachma tax came to Peter and asked, “Doesn’t your teacher pay the temple tax?” ²⁵ “Yes, he does,” he replied. When Peter came into the house, Jesus was the first to speak. “What do you think, Simon?” he asked. “From whom do the kings of the earth collect duty and taxes—from their own sons or from others?”
5. Matthew 21:16 (NIV) ¹⁶ “Do you hear what these children are saying?” they asked him. “Yes,” replied Jesus, “have you never read, “‘From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise’?”
6. Matthew 26:6-10 (NIV) ⁶ While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, ⁷ a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table. ⁸ When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked. ⁹ “This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.” ¹⁰ Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman?”
7. Mark 2:1-11 (NIV) ⁵ When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” ⁶ Now some teachers of the law were sitting there, thinking to themselves, ⁷ “Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?” ⁸ Immediately Jesus knew in his spirit that this was what they were thinking in their hearts, and he said to them, “Why are you thinking these things? ⁹ Which is easier: to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’? ¹⁰ But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins….” He said to the paralytic, ¹¹ “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.”
8. Mark 4:10,13 (NIV) ¹⁰ When he was alone, the Twelve and the others around him asked him about the parables…¹³ Then Jesus said to them, “Don’t you understand this parable? How then will you understand any parable?
9. Mark 4:38,40 (NIV). ³⁸ Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” ⁴⁰ He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”
10. Mark 7:17-18 (NIV) ¹⁷ After he had left the crowd and entered the house, his disciples asked him about this parable. ¹⁸ “Are you so dull?” he asked.
11. Mark 10:2-3 (NIV) ² Some Pharisees came and tested him by asking, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” ³ “What did Moses command you?” he replied.
12. Mark 12:14-17 (NIV) ¹⁴ They came to him and said, “Teacher, we know you are a man of integrity. You aren’t swayed by men, because you pay no attention to who they are; but you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not? ¹⁵ Should we pay or shouldn’t we?” But Jesus knew their hypocrisy. “Why are you trying to trap me?” he asked. “Bring me a denarius and let me look at it.” ¹⁶ They brought the coin, and he asked them, “Whose portrait is this? And whose inscription?” “Caesar’s,” they replied. ¹⁷ Then Jesus said to them, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.” And they were amazed at him.
13. Mark 12:18, 20-24 (NIV) ¹⁸ Then the Sadducees, who say there is no resurrection, came to him with a question… ²⁰ Now there were seven brothers. The first one married and died without leaving any children. ²¹ The second one married the widow, but he also died, leaving no child. It was the same with the third. ²²In fact, none of the seven left any children. Last of all, the woman died too. ²³ At the resurrection whose wife will she be, since the seven were married to her?”²⁴ Jesus replied, “Are you not in error because you do not know the Scriptures or the power of God?
14. Luke 2:48-49 (NIV) ⁴⁸ When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.” ⁴⁹ “Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?”
15. Luke 6:1-3 (NIV) One Sabbath Jesus was going through the grainfields, and his disciples began to pick some heads of grain, rub them in their hands and eat the kernels. ² Some of the Pharisees asked, “Why are you doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath?” ³ Jesus answered them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry?
16. Luke 10:25-26 (NIV) ²⁵ On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” ²⁶ “What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”
17. Luke 10:29,36 ²⁹ But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” . . . ³⁶ “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”
18. Luke 12:41-43 (NIV) ⁴¹ Peter asked, “Lord, are you telling this parable to us, or to everyone?” ⁴² The Lord answered, “Who then is the faithful and wise manager, whom the master puts in charge of his servants to give them their food allowance at the proper time?
19. Luke 18:18-19 (NIV) ¹⁸ A certain ruler asked him, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” ¹⁹ “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone.
20. Luke 20:1-4 (NIV) One day as he was teaching the people in the temple courts and preaching the gospel, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, together with the elders, came up to him. ² “Tell us by what authority you are doing these things,” they said. “Who gave you this authority?” ³ He replied, “I will also ask you a question. Tell me, ⁴ John’s baptism—was it from heaven, or from men?”
21. Luke 24:17-19 (NIV) ¹⁸One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, “Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem and do not know the things that have happened there in these days?” ¹⁹ “What things?” he asked.
22. John 3:4,10 (NIV) ⁴ “How can a man be born when he is old?” Nicodemus asked. “Surely he cannot enter a second time into his mother’s womb to be born!” ¹⁰“You are Israel’s teacher,” said Jesus, “and do you not understand these things?
23. John 6:60-71 (NIV) ⁶⁰ On hearing it, many of his disciples said, “This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?” ⁶¹ Aware that his disciples were grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, “Does this offend you?
24. John 8:3-10 (NIV) ³The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group ⁴ and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. ⁵ In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say? . . . ¹⁰Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
25. John 11:8-10 (NIV) ⁸ “But Rabbi,” they said, “a short while ago the Jews tried to stone you, and yet you are going back there?” ⁹ Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight?
26. John 13:37-38 (NIV) ³⁷ Peter asked, “Lord, why can’t I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.” ³⁸ Then Jesus answered, “Will you really lay down your life for me?
27. John 18:22-23 (NIV) ²² When Jesus said this, one of the officials nearby struck him in the face. “Is this the way you answer the high priest?” he demanded. ²³“If I said something wrong,” Jesus replied, “testify as to what is wrong. But if I spoke the truth, why did you strike me?”
28. John 18:33-34 (NIV) ³³ Pilate then went back inside the palace, summoned Jesus and asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” ³⁴ “Is that your own idea,” Jesus asked, “or did others talk to you about me?”
29. John 21:20-22 (NIV) ²⁰ Peter turned and saw that the disciple whom Jesus loved was following them…²¹ When Peter saw him, he asked, “Lord, what about him?” ²² Jesus answered, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.”

I wonder, when Jesus calls the Holy Spirit the Great Teacher, does he mean that the Holy Spirit is the Great Questioner? Because, honestly, that’s been my experience with the Spirit. He hasn’t been the GPS that I’ve often thought he should be. He hasn’t been the “guide” that I thought he would be. He’s been a socratic dialectic.

Am I the only one who’s experienced the “guidance” of the Holy Spirit in this manner?

Block writes, “Questions open the door to the future and are more powerful than answers in that they demand engagement” (101).

Although I’m not a vocational teacher, I’ve had the privilege of teaching in different forums and the question that I’ve had to ask myself, at the onset was: Would I rather teach the right information or produce an environment that cultivates critical thinking?  I’ve chosen the latter … sometimes at the expense of “right information” … realizing that although information and thinking aren’t mutually exclusive, the latter is more likely to inspire ownership of the question and honest searching.

Quick informational answers kill investigation and thinking.  Cheap thinkers want quick informational answers.  Good teachers restrain themselves.

Jesus uses aporia in both his question responses and in his parables themselves.  Was clarity the purpose of Jesus’ parables?  Or was engagement, investigation inspiration and, at times, the withholding of information the purpose of his parables?

Block writes that the great questions have three qualities: they’re ambiguous, they’re personal and they evoke anxiety.  Has anybody ever read the Gospels?

Is it any wonder that the Jesus of the Gospels produced the community of the early church?

The church likes to say, “Jesus is the Answer.”  But, I wonder if the very foundation of the church’s continuation through two millennium and present growth is inspired by Jesus being the Question?

In business, a sacred question would be, “How can we offer better?” This question will have answers, but like Apple knows as well as anyone, that answer MUST always change, evolve and improve … or you will lose your base.

In vision casting, a sacred question is, “How will the world be different tomorrow as a result our speaking today?”

In ethics, we can ask a similar sacred question, “How can I ‘love’ better?” Or, “How can I be a better neighbor?” The question is sacred because, once again, it is fluid … as a river, moving, changing in different directions, yet having a name.

In religion, the sacred questions are, “Is there a God?” and, if you answer the first, “What is he like?” I, as a believer in Jesus, believe he has a name. But the day that name becomes static, the day the question loses its sacredness is the day I’ve lost His path.

What are your sacred questions?