Yesterday was the last day of Winter Term, and as part of the wrap-up chapel I was one of four instructors who was asked to say something to the group. I wanted to give a reflection and benediction, and I suspect I went over my time allowance. Ugh, so sorry. Here are yesterday’s ideas in a slightly expanded form.

I love Winter Term! This marks the end of my eleventh Winter Term either as student or staff, and I still love it every year. I love many aspects of it. I love the snow and walking in it, the students–always the students, because if they weren’t here, I’d go home.

One favorite part of Winter Term is all the questions that hang thick in the air. In the dining room, in classes, in my office, in small groups and one-on-one, I heard lots of questions–questions like, “Does it ever stop snowing here?”

And I say, “Nope, not until May!”

Then there were other questions with no good answers.

“Does this sweater go with this outfit?”

“How does Mr. Brubaker expect us to do this whole assignment today?”

And there were deeper questions that I heard no answers for.

“How can my culture be a bridge to another culture?”

“What is God doing about so much injustice in the world?”

“How am I supposed to reckon with the sin and brokenness that’s in me and around me?”

And I love it. Questions are stimulating and exciting, and this is a school so we want to think things through.

I have held big questions this term too–questions with no answers. I have spent a long time these weeks desperately looking for answers, and I’ve done so all my life. It makes sense that my brain wants to make sense of the information that’s coming at it.

(Half in jest here, but mostly seriously, I find some of my questions answered in choral music–played loud enough to swim in, or very, very softly. Human voices and shimmering harmonies can help to answer whatever is distressing me–that, plus a walk.)*

But maybe questions are for something more than just answers. I haven’t walked with God as long as some people here, like Mr. Coblentz. But I’m learning some things. It seems that God is less interested in handing me the answers I’m desperate for, and He’s more interested in giving me Himself.

I say this carefully because I don’t want to dismiss valid questions, and I don’t want to be trite:

At the end of the question, in the question mark, we can meet God.

Underneath the desperation for solutions lies our deepest yearning: Jesus. And He meets us there. He continues to meet us. He doesn’t get tired of finding us in the question mark. His face is very, very kind, and He says He loves justice too.

There’s a quote from the Talmud that I write on a sticky note and keep on my computer. It fades, then I copy it every few months to replace it because I need to keep it in front of me. I share it with you as a way to walk into questions with no answers.

Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief.

Do justly now.
Love mercy now.
Walk humbly now.

You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.

*Here’s my Spotify and YouTube choral playlists because I’m kind of a junkie that way. And don’t come at me if some of the music doesn’t suit you!