Seeking Answers, Finding so much more

 "A Bird doesn't sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song." Joan Walsh Anglund

My Dad taught me many things that still come back to me and one is his classic answer to all 'why' questions: There is no Why. It sounds almost Yoda-like: 'There is no try; only do.' Or something like that. In fact, Dad's answer to why questions gets often-quoted in our household: 'Why'd you do that?!' 'There is no why!'. Sometimes we even say, 'There is X. There is Z. But there IS NO WHY.' I've often thought about this and wondered why Dad said that. But it defeats the point to answer: the point is, there is no 'why?' Upon reflection, I do see what is behind this: mostly our 'why' questions in day to day life are not information seeking, but rather, venting our frustrations. In this context, I am exceedingly happy with 'There is NO WHY.' Because it forces the one asking to re-evaluate: were you honestly asking a question that the honest answer will satisfy? 

"I hit my sister because I actually detest her in this moment." 

Oh, now I appreciate knowing why and we can go on with our day.

"I didn't clean up the mess because I am selfishly indulgent."

Oh, now we can all relax, knowing the real reason the mess was left behind.

Why? questions in our normal routines ARE, for the most part, forms of protest, angst, irritation and pushback. They are, in actuality, not all that helpful.

There are other 'why?' questions that are deeper and go far beyond day-to-day annoyances. Why did this or that happen in my life? Why didn't, why doesn't, God do or answer what I ask of Him? Why am I in this situation in life and not that situation? 

I don't want to assume here that these questions are at all pointless. They aren't. They are rich with material for digging deeper - an important cue for our journey inward (and outward, in eventuality). If I ask these kinds of 'why' questions, it's because a desire in me is causing friction with my reality. Our desires - if we can be honest about them - are extremely important for engaging with God. Does God care about our desires? I can unequivocally answer that one: YES. 

And with that I end answering any questions. And here's why: it isn't in the answering that we find our satisfaction. The real questions go unasked because it's easier to live in our heads and analyze life, rather than in our hearts, holding experiences that enliven and burden us. (This is true for some of us - those who live wholeheartedly embracing, and experiencing, the joys and sorrows of life are an inspiration to me!) 

I am a spiritual director - this is a title or a framework that others can identify me by - but I offer this disclaimer: I don't direct; I listen; I pray; I offer reflection; I sit with others in their pain, their questions, their real experiences, and I don't answer questions. Answers aren't really what most people need. There are self-help books and classes, the internet, libraries and multiple resources that DO provide answers. But for most pain, there isn't an answer: There IS no WHY.

I put that quote at the top because it speaks to me: songs are borne not of answers, but of the spirit. God is spirit and dwells in us in a mystical sense - in a way that we can't adequately articulate. As a child, I thought God lived in my physical heart - that beating organ that kept life going in me.  And now I know God 'dwells in my heart through faith' whatever that means - that's the best kind of exacting language the apostle Paul could come up with. God takes up residence in us somehow through our exercise of the faith He supplies. This is wonderfully comforting and hope-filled news! I can expend all my energies trying to answer questions of faith, and I'm thankful there are very brainy scholars and theologians who do just that. But I am not confident that explanations and answers will satisfy.

When Abraham was called to put Isaac on the altar, he encountered a deep conflict. A conflict in desires: I want this son God has promised to fulfill His promises through, and I also want to be completely devoted to this God Who gave me this son, which involves placing this son on the altar. This kind of deep inner conflict is so huge I wonder if any of us can honestly relate. On some level we all can relate, as many of us find our own 'Isaac experience' so transformative. On another hand, I believe Abraham (and God the Father) stand alone in this sacrificial experience. Do you think Abraham needed an explanation, in detail, an answer for his deep longing, in that moment? God had told him: 'I AM your very great reward.' God had, in effect, given him an answer long before. But what did 'the answer' matter? Not much in that painful moment.

Jesus talked of the sparrows, of the birds of the air, how they neither sow nor spin, 'but your Father in heaven feeds them' (Somewhere in Matthew 6). These are the curious little creatures that are unavoidable if you look outside on any given day: even in winter we can see birds here and there. They are gentle reminders that if God takes care of them, surely He will take care of me. It isn't a question of why the birds sing: the song is within them and it flows out as God created them to sing. 

I wonder if we asked the birds, 'Why do you sing?' that they might simply reply: 'There is no why.'