Wrestling with the questions of God

The words on the license plate loomed large before me – ARE YOU.

For the past 10 miles I had been engaging God with a litany of concerns, complaints and prayer requests, punctuated by an occasional thank you. The only voice I heard was mine, that was until I was forced to stop at a red light. Then God spoke, in the words on the license plate on the rear of the car ahead of me.

It was a question, though without a question mark; an open ended question, I thought, which would require me to fill in the blanks with possible options – am I being honest, with myself or God; am I being judgmental, of myself or others; am I trusting in God, as I say I am, or am I holding on to God like a crutch that I fear might give way at any minute? I had no idea what God was really asking. The options were endless, and it was too early in the morning to consider them all.

But consider them I would, over time, because once God asks a question, it never leaves you.

God seems to have that habit of forcing us to turn our gaze inward; to impede our relentless focus on what others have done wrong, or could do better, and to honestly evaluate how we can hold ourselves to the same standards.

Trappist monk Thomas Merton spoke of the spiritual life as a continual discovery of God in the most unexpected places. For many of us, that most unexpected place is often in our own hearts, so God continues to invite us into the unknown to meet him there. Often, the invitation begins with a question.

In his book “Yearnings: Embracing the Sacred Messiness of Life,” Rabbi Irwin Kula tells the story of Rabbi Zusya lying on his deathbed. While surrounded by his admiring students, who tried to comfort him while he wept, one student asked, “Why are you crying?”

Rabbi Zusya replied, “I’m scared.”

His students questioned, “Why? You were like Abraham, like Moses to us!”

Instead of being soothed, the Rabbi wept louder and said, “God won’t ask me why I wasn’t more like Abraham or Moses. He will ask me why I wasn’t more like Zusya!”

Being who God calls us to be often requires direction.

“Where are you?” God asks of Adam and Eve, as they hid among the trees after eating from the forbidden fruit.

God had no need of asking that question, for God knew where they were hiding, but they needed to be asked, to reflect on how and why their relationship with God had changed.

The young prophet, Jeremiah, found himself in a similar situation. God called him to be a prophet, but Jeremiah hid behind his youth, telling God he was too young to be an oracle of God. His vision of himself was limited by fear and doubt, but God reminded him, as he often has to remind us, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you …”

Then, he asked Jeremiah the question: “What do you see?” In fact, he asked him twice, not unusual when you are dealing with teens.

Jeremiah then had two visions: the branch of an almond tree and the boiling kettle. He didn’t understand the visions, so God explained them, but he was now open to God’s purpose for him.

Walking with God is not always a walk in the park. I have learned that prayer often requires courage to face the questions we may be hiding from. God is adept at throwing out challenges with questions tailor made to our needs. That’s love.

Mary Morrell serves as editor-in-chief of The Catholic Spirit.