I had some difficult questions posed to me this weekend. Some Divine, some from people, and I’ve continued to think about how Socratic God can be sometimes.
I ask Him a question, and He comes back at me with others that actually point to the heart of the issue. It’s unnerving, and healing. It’s unnerving because it undoes me. It breaks me down and it gets to the very heart of the issue that almost never lingers on the surface but hides and lurks below other questions and ends up being uglier than anything I was prepared to face in the first place. But in this unnerving, undoing somehow it heals.
It looks so cliché when I write that.
Whatever.
I keep finding myself saying, internally (and sometimes externally) “I didn’t sign up for this.” But the fact is, I did. I DID sign up for this.
I keep thinking about a chapter in Tim Keller’s book King’s Cross, wherein he unpacks the story of Jesus healing the bleeding woman—while he’s on his way to another man’s home to heal a little girl.
I get choked up sometimes when I think about it, because Keller’s interpretation goes deep for me. Keller points out that for both persons seeking healing, Jesus ends up asking far more from them than they bargained for, but the truth of each story is that they end up also receiving far more than they asked for.
Here’s how it goes. Mark 5:21-43.
When Jesus had again crossed over by boat to the other side of the lake, a large crowd gathered around him while he was by the lake. Then one of the synagogue leaders, named Jairus, came, and when he saw Jesus, he fell at his feet. He pleaded earnestly with him, “My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live.” So Jesus went with him. A large crowd followed and pressed around him.
And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years. She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse. When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought, “If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.”
Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that she was freed from her suffering. At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my clothes?”
“You see the people crowding against you,” his disciples answered, “and yet you can ask, ‘Who touched me?’ ” But Jesus kept looking around to see who had done it. Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at his feet and, trembling with fear, told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”
While Jesus was still speaking, some people came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue leader.
“Your daughter is dead,” they said. “Why bother the teacher anymore?” Overhearing what they said, Jesus told him, “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”
He did not let anyone follow him except Peter, James and John the brother of James. When they came to the home of the synagogue leader, Jesus saw a commotion, with people crying and wailing loudly. He went in and said to them, “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep.” But they laughed at him.
After he put them all out, he took the child’s father and mother and the disciples who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). Immediately the girl stood up and began to walk around (she was twelve years old).
At this they were completely astonished. He gave strict orders not to let anyone know about this, and told them to give her something to eat.
Keller makes a few points (probably more than I can remember, but here goes).
The man...
This man was high up in the Synagogue. Already, coming to Jesus was going to cost him some reputation, surely. But, his daughter was acutely and immediately sick. His love for his daughter won. The situation was urgent, and he persuaded Jesus, in faith, to come. But then, Jesus seems to get…distracted?!
The woman...
The woman had a chronic, seemingly non-diagnosable disease. Jesus stopped himself en route to treat an emergency situation to enquire as to who had touched him. This is the first shocking point. It seems like he has his priorities mixed up.
The woman, it seems, just wanted, in faith, to tap into Jesus’ power for a moment and then escape--unnoticed. He then calls her out, brings her forward, and asks her to tell her story.
As a woman, this story makes me cringe. I can’t imagine having to tell this story in public, even today. I can’t imagine explaining myself in front of a crowd full of people and describing over a decade of bloody discharge from my body and my despair at ever having a normal life.
I can’t imagine what that would be like even now, much less back then. Her body, by law, effectively made her an outcast, and anyone who touched her. I can imagine that the crowd pressed around her and Jesus in this moment promptly recoiling in disgust and self-preservation. Probably a reaction that she had become accustomed to, at least to some degree, but probably not from a whole crowd.
And then Jesus speaks life to her. He calls her a daughter and speaks life and freedom over the rest of her existence: “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”
I think her suffering didn’t just mean the physical part. I can’t imagine what such a 12 year old ordeal would do to a woman’s psyche and then to deal with the consequences of Jewish law on top of that!
But then, the man again…
So then, there’s dad, looking on to this situation, wondering if Jesus has lost his ever loving MIND, when he daughter is at home urgently ill and DYING. And then the servants come and announce that it’s already happened. She’s gone.
“What’s the use?” They say. She’s gone. But then Jesus looks at this man. And the way I imagine it is a rather piercing gaze. One that somehow reaches to the furthest recesses of the Jarius’ conscient soul and says 5 words: “Don’t be afraid; just believe.” Jarius, I think it’s safe to assume, DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS. The audacity of Jesus’ brevity, as well as him stopping in the middle of the street to hear this woman’s 12-year-long story—I can imagine—did everything but make Jarius SNAP in two. “Who is this man?!” I can imagine him thinking/feeling. “I came to him in faith but this is more than faith this is something else—this is…crazy!”
Then the end of the story is even more amazing than what Jarius had signed up for. Jesus didn’t just heal a sickness, he brought the little girl back to life in a moment that undoubtedly solidified forever in Jarius’ mind the Deity of Jesus.
It was way more than he thought he signed up for, indeed.
I came to Italy with questions: “who am I supposed to become, where are You going with my life, am I supposed to be in Italy long-term…?” And He has responded in kind: “I AM. I exist, ponder that. I created you to be satisfied in Me, DO YOU TRUST THAT?”
“Don’t be afraid; just believe.”
Easier said than done.
Law school in the United States is done in the Socratic method. It’s not a series of lectures that teach us about the law, rather, it’s a series of courses designed to help us go find out what it is and apply it to our situations. It’s a serious of:
“This is what happened in the ___ case, according to the logic of the court, what would the outcome be if ___ circumstance were different?”
“What philosophic approach does the court take, and do you agree with it?”
“What if….”
Maybe it’s because I’ve been immersed in this for 2 years now, but I’m starting to see how this consistently happens in my relationship with God:
“God, should I do ____?”
“Well, what are your motives for wanting to do ____?”
“God, why did ____ happen?”
“Well, do you believe I am good?”
“But why does it hurt?”
“Where does it hurt?”
“You know where it hurts.”
“You tell me where it hurts, name it, and maybe we can go from there.”
….tears….
He keeps asking questions until I end up at conclusions that I never would have come to on my own. And you know what? It goes deeper every time He does that. It’s flat out a better education. And a better education comes with far greater reward, and satisfaction. I think Jarius would probably agree. And so would the woman who was given back her health and dignity in the middle of the street after crawling to touch Jesus’ dirty hem.
His ways are beyond me. Good thing they're better than mine too, because at this point I may have already packed my suitcases and headed back to the States by now. Something tells me to wait. I have to admit, it's not fear for me right now it's frustration. When I read this story and put my own circumstances in the narrative I can envision Jesus looking over a crowd of tourists in Rome, straight at me and saying: "I haven't forgotten, don't get frustrated, just believe."
Right now, I'm relating to Jarius in that few minutes walk between when Jesus said that and when they got to the little girl's bedroom. I can just imagine the internal war, the grief in that man's soul and I resonate. There are almost no words that satisfactorily express the disappointment and reverberating WHY. But I love that Keller's admonishment comes back to me: there will be an even more reverberating BECAUSE. The question then remains of how to handle the interim?
Not sure I know. One day at a time. And I'm headed to Naples on Friday--all of this solitude is wonderful, but I want to see some people now. ;)
(By the way, I would just like to take a moment and say, yes, I do realize that God came before Socrates.)
I ask Him a question, and He comes back at me with others that actually point to the heart of the issue. It’s unnerving, and healing. It’s unnerving because it undoes me. It breaks me down and it gets to the very heart of the issue that almost never lingers on the surface but hides and lurks below other questions and ends up being uglier than anything I was prepared to face in the first place. But in this unnerving, undoing somehow it heals.
It looks so cliché when I write that.
Whatever.
I keep finding myself saying, internally (and sometimes externally) “I didn’t sign up for this.” But the fact is, I did. I DID sign up for this.
I keep thinking about a chapter in Tim Keller’s book King’s Cross, wherein he unpacks the story of Jesus healing the bleeding woman—while he’s on his way to another man’s home to heal a little girl.
I get choked up sometimes when I think about it, because Keller’s interpretation goes deep for me. Keller points out that for both persons seeking healing, Jesus ends up asking far more from them than they bargained for, but the truth of each story is that they end up also receiving far more than they asked for.
Here’s how it goes. Mark 5:21-43.
When Jesus had again crossed over by boat to the other side of the lake, a large crowd gathered around him while he was by the lake. Then one of the synagogue leaders, named Jairus, came, and when he saw Jesus, he fell at his feet. He pleaded earnestly with him, “My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live.” So Jesus went with him. A large crowd followed and pressed around him.
And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years. She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse. When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought, “If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.”
Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that she was freed from her suffering. At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my clothes?”
“You see the people crowding against you,” his disciples answered, “and yet you can ask, ‘Who touched me?’ ” But Jesus kept looking around to see who had done it. Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at his feet and, trembling with fear, told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”
While Jesus was still speaking, some people came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue leader.
“Your daughter is dead,” they said. “Why bother the teacher anymore?” Overhearing what they said, Jesus told him, “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”
He did not let anyone follow him except Peter, James and John the brother of James. When they came to the home of the synagogue leader, Jesus saw a commotion, with people crying and wailing loudly. He went in and said to them, “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep.” But they laughed at him.
After he put them all out, he took the child’s father and mother and the disciples who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). Immediately the girl stood up and began to walk around (she was twelve years old).
At this they were completely astonished. He gave strict orders not to let anyone know about this, and told them to give her something to eat.
Keller makes a few points (probably more than I can remember, but here goes).
The man...
This man was high up in the Synagogue. Already, coming to Jesus was going to cost him some reputation, surely. But, his daughter was acutely and immediately sick. His love for his daughter won. The situation was urgent, and he persuaded Jesus, in faith, to come. But then, Jesus seems to get…distracted?!
The woman...
The woman had a chronic, seemingly non-diagnosable disease. Jesus stopped himself en route to treat an emergency situation to enquire as to who had touched him. This is the first shocking point. It seems like he has his priorities mixed up.
The woman, it seems, just wanted, in faith, to tap into Jesus’ power for a moment and then escape--unnoticed. He then calls her out, brings her forward, and asks her to tell her story.
As a woman, this story makes me cringe. I can’t imagine having to tell this story in public, even today. I can’t imagine explaining myself in front of a crowd full of people and describing over a decade of bloody discharge from my body and my despair at ever having a normal life.
I can’t imagine what that would be like even now, much less back then. Her body, by law, effectively made her an outcast, and anyone who touched her. I can imagine that the crowd pressed around her and Jesus in this moment promptly recoiling in disgust and self-preservation. Probably a reaction that she had become accustomed to, at least to some degree, but probably not from a whole crowd.
And then Jesus speaks life to her. He calls her a daughter and speaks life and freedom over the rest of her existence: “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”
I think her suffering didn’t just mean the physical part. I can’t imagine what such a 12 year old ordeal would do to a woman’s psyche and then to deal with the consequences of Jewish law on top of that!
But then, the man again…
So then, there’s dad, looking on to this situation, wondering if Jesus has lost his ever loving MIND, when he daughter is at home urgently ill and DYING. And then the servants come and announce that it’s already happened. She’s gone.
“What’s the use?” They say. She’s gone. But then Jesus looks at this man. And the way I imagine it is a rather piercing gaze. One that somehow reaches to the furthest recesses of the Jarius’ conscient soul and says 5 words: “Don’t be afraid; just believe.” Jarius, I think it’s safe to assume, DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS. The audacity of Jesus’ brevity, as well as him stopping in the middle of the street to hear this woman’s 12-year-long story—I can imagine—did everything but make Jarius SNAP in two. “Who is this man?!” I can imagine him thinking/feeling. “I came to him in faith but this is more than faith this is something else—this is…crazy!”
Then the end of the story is even more amazing than what Jarius had signed up for. Jesus didn’t just heal a sickness, he brought the little girl back to life in a moment that undoubtedly solidified forever in Jarius’ mind the Deity of Jesus.
It was way more than he thought he signed up for, indeed.
I came to Italy with questions: “who am I supposed to become, where are You going with my life, am I supposed to be in Italy long-term…?” And He has responded in kind: “I AM. I exist, ponder that. I created you to be satisfied in Me, DO YOU TRUST THAT?”
“Don’t be afraid; just believe.”
Easier said than done.
Law school in the United States is done in the Socratic method. It’s not a series of lectures that teach us about the law, rather, it’s a series of courses designed to help us go find out what it is and apply it to our situations. It’s a serious of:
“This is what happened in the ___ case, according to the logic of the court, what would the outcome be if ___ circumstance were different?”
“What philosophic approach does the court take, and do you agree with it?”
“What if….”
Maybe it’s because I’ve been immersed in this for 2 years now, but I’m starting to see how this consistently happens in my relationship with God:
“God, should I do ____?”
“Well, what are your motives for wanting to do ____?”
“God, why did ____ happen?”
“Well, do you believe I am good?”
“But why does it hurt?”
“Where does it hurt?”
“You know where it hurts.”
“You tell me where it hurts, name it, and maybe we can go from there.”
….tears….
He keeps asking questions until I end up at conclusions that I never would have come to on my own. And you know what? It goes deeper every time He does that. It’s flat out a better education. And a better education comes with far greater reward, and satisfaction. I think Jarius would probably agree. And so would the woman who was given back her health and dignity in the middle of the street after crawling to touch Jesus’ dirty hem.
His ways are beyond me. Good thing they're better than mine too, because at this point I may have already packed my suitcases and headed back to the States by now. Something tells me to wait. I have to admit, it's not fear for me right now it's frustration. When I read this story and put my own circumstances in the narrative I can envision Jesus looking over a crowd of tourists in Rome, straight at me and saying: "I haven't forgotten, don't get frustrated, just believe."
Right now, I'm relating to Jarius in that few minutes walk between when Jesus said that and when they got to the little girl's bedroom. I can just imagine the internal war, the grief in that man's soul and I resonate. There are almost no words that satisfactorily express the disappointment and reverberating WHY. But I love that Keller's admonishment comes back to me: there will be an even more reverberating BECAUSE. The question then remains of how to handle the interim?
Not sure I know. One day at a time. And I'm headed to Naples on Friday--all of this solitude is wonderful, but I want to see some people now. ;)
(By the way, I would just like to take a moment and say, yes, I do realize that God came before Socrates.)
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