The Gospels contain all sorts of questions and misguided assumptions from people about Jesus’s identity, his motives, his methods, and his works.
His disciples ask questions and wonder what he is up to, as do those seeking his help and healing touch. The religious folks, who oppose him and eventually kill him, ask him many questions in arrogance and self-righteousness. Even demons question Jesus sometimes.
Examples of arrogant, misguided questions asked by Pharisees, in just the first two chapters of Mark:
- Who is Jesus to think he has the authority to forgive sins?
- Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?
- Why don’t his disciples fast?
- Why are his disciples doing what is not lawful on the Sabbath?
Jesus’s close disciples ask more thoughtful questions, like, “Why do you teach in parables?” (Mk. 4:10). Other times they ask him questions that reveal their fear and lack of faith, as when they cry out in a storm, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (Mk.4:38).
But it is Jesus who asks the best questions, often answering others’ questions with questions of his own:
- How can Satan cast out Satan?
- Who are my mother and my brothers?
- Is a lamp meant to be put under a basket or a bed, or on a stand where it can provide light?
- Why are you so afraid?
And the very best question he asks, in my humble opinion, is “With what can we compare the kingdom of God?” This great question opens his favorite topic: the nature of his kingdom, how it grows, how it works, and how to enter it. He tells illustrative parables about sowers and seeds; planting and harvest; nets catching fish; weeds and wheat; sheep and goats.
“With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it” (Mk. 4:33).
As I was contemplating this, I recalled the four years when I taught psychology at Lonestar College. On occasion, I had older students with life experience and perhaps some past exposure to psychological concepts. They were a delight. Sometimes I had aspiring nurses who were bright and curious, and quickly grasped the relevance of what we were studying together.
But most of my students were just out of public high schools, where unfortunately they had not been well educated and were generally not imbued with a love of learning. Most didn’t read books, and only with great difficulty could execute a poorly written research paper.
(This explains why I didn’t continue teaching very long…it was too hard on my heart and mind, and I couldn’t fix the problem).
My point in mentioning this is that this mix of students could have sidetracked me from my mission of teaching 16 rigorous weeks of General Psychology each semester. The bright ones could have led me down rabbit trails that they found interesting. The not-so-bright ones could have persuaded me to dumb down the curriculum, and many did plead with me to accept their lame excuses for not getting their work done.
If I let them lead me too far away from the prescribed curriculum, it would not have served anyone in the end. As a conscientious professor, I worked very hard to stay on topic. While I was always willing to hear and respond to honest questions, I was careful not to let them usurp my position as their teacher or pull the class into some black hole of their own making.
This illustration is quite small in comparison to the way Jesus kept his authority intact at all times. He was a far better teacher than I (and had better classroom management skills, too).
When demons cried out, “You are the Son of God!” he commanded them to be silent. You see, even when demons were speaking truthfully, Jesus didn’t give them an audience because their intentions were purely evil. Jesus alone was in charge of how and when he would reveal himself. He would never defer to demons or allow them to speak for him.
When hard-hearted Pharisees asked him accusatory or derogatory questions, Jesus never took the bait. He stayed with the curriculum the Father has assigned to him, always turning the message back to what he wanted the people to know.
He insisted, regardless of the questions asked or false assumptions stated, on preaching about the kingdom of God. He insisted on employing his teaching methods–telling stories, using metaphor, quoting Scripture, asking challenging questions, confronting erroneous teaching, and identifying insidious doctrines.
Jesus challenges us to be like him. “It is enough for a disciple that he be like his teacher, and a servant like his master” (Matt. 10:25).
So, if you hear demons trying to get into your head with “arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God” (2 Cor. 10:5), always remember that this is not Christ’s curriculum for you.
If unbelievers accuse you of being too religious or ask you antagonizing questions, take a lesson from Jesus. Formulate a parable or question that allows you to share some aspect of Christ’s curriculum for them. You can use your spiritual authority in these moments to represent him well with grace and truth.
If religious people accuse you of not being religious enough, because you don’t practice your faith the way they do, remember that Christ’s curriculum is not about religion. It’s about faith in him and worshiping him in spirit and truth.
Demons, unbelievers, and religious people are not smarter or more powerful than the one who has called you. Don’t give up the ground where you stand with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
Seek to master Christ’s curriculum, which is the gospel, and you will “always be ready to give a defense to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear” (1 Peter 3:15).
