Two Questions and a Statement

When I was in sixth grade, I had a teacher named Mr. Wilson.  Actually, it was one of those strange classroom situations where two teachers shared the same grade for the school, and would swap students for certain subjects.  So, I had both Mrs. Walker and Mr. Wilson.  Mrs. Walker was a rather tall, thin woman whom I enjoyed a great deal.  Mr. Wilson, who happened to be rather short and stout, I liked, as well; however I was to later find out that he didn't care for me quite so much.

Why didn't Mr. Wilson care for me, you ask?  Well, apparently, I asked too many questions.  

You would think a teacher would be welcoming of questions, but not Mr. Wilson.  As the story goes, I was under his tutelage for science as part of this class-swapping business.  I very much liked science and yes, you guessed it, asked quite a few questions.  Too many questions, at least in his estimation.  He actually called a meeting with my parents to discuss my over-abundant questioning.  I was unaware of this meeting, and only discovered it later as an adult.  He had asked my parents to talk to me and encourage me to stop asking so many questions.  My parents were appropriately outraged and flat-out refused; they quickly figured out that I was asking questions for which Mr. Wilson didn't have answers.  (It is my personal opinion that mainstreaming so-called 'gifted' children may not be the best choice, for teachers or students...but, what do I know?)

Poor Mr. Wilson.

I still ask questions.  As I have matured, however, it has been distilled into only two questions.  Perhaps it is because I eventually realized that overwhelming others with my plethora of questions was just not profitable.  Or maybe it was because I sensed that my questioning made others feel uncomfortable.  My distilled-down questions are simple, really, and if I get answers, they are invaluable.  I find that these two questions cut to the heart of issues faster than more verbose inquiries.

This is the analytical question.  It cuts through the details and gets to the motivation.  I have long said that to understand the actions of others one has to find the motivation behind the behavior.  Long past 'why is the sky blue' type of rhetorical questions, my question asks why things happen the way they do, why people act in certain ways.  Sometimes cynical, oftentimes sarcastic and usually just plain curious, the why question rarely gets a satisfactory, all-encompassing answer, but it can most certainly be informative.  The answers to why questions can give the puzzle pieces we need to see the big picture, but it is the next question that provides the order in which the information gets arranged.

I catch myself asking this question more times than I would like to admit.  When we know the why, then we can work to understand what that means in relation to the next action, reaction or plan of action.  Likewise, platitudes, quips and statements that are so common that we don't even think through their origin or meanings anymore are fair game to being questioned in this manner.  I ask this question in religious context frequently, but always in the same tone that begs the speaker to go deeper, think longer, define more clearly.  Define it for not only me, but for themselves, as well.  Frequently, I immediately follow this question with what does that look like? meaning what does that look like practically or how does that play out in reality.  For example, what does "growing in grace" really mean?  What does that look like?  Alright, so some smarty-pants is gonna have an answer for me, but you get the idea.  Definitions and being clear on what we say, what we think and what we believe is always worthy of further pondering and questioning.

And, this couldn't be more true...for me.  It is all about definitions, as you probably know if you have been reading my ruminations for any length of time.  Defining community, relationships, beliefs, and abstract concepts, such as love and forgiveness, helps me put perspective and parameters around difficult ideas that we so easily take for granted.  Like the definition of gossip.  Or how about character?  And, what exactly is wisdom?  Definitions put order into a world of nebulous, oft-misinterpreted doctrines, thought patterns or traditions.  For me, when things are defined, it gives me a stronger chance of actually choosing right over wrong, truth over falsehood, good over evil.  It is when we aren't sure of the definitions that things can get a little fuzzy, even out of control.

At least, that has been my experience.
I wonder if Mr. Wilson would agree with me.