On Questions

At the table pictured above, my favorite moments of the day occur. My wife and I prepare food only to come together at the table of dependence. We need food nearly as desperately as we need to relate to each other. The table is a consecrated space in our home. From the first days of our marriage until now, the table is where we ask most of our questions.

My favorite questions at dinner are: What moment today would you fast forward through? What moment would you hit pause on? What moment would you hit EJECT? Perhaps the questions are dated, assuming that the person asked is familiar with a VCR player (Think Netflix, but with a "Be Kind, Rewind" sticker on the front of each box.) But when I ask my wife these questions, stories flow as if I was there myself. In that space I gain not only information, I also immerse myself in the world of my wife. Her moments. Her memories. Her observations on the quirks of a General Insurance Agency.

A friend dear to my heart, a former roommate on Frost Avenue, asks wonderful questions. Perhaps it is his quiet, reflective demeanor, but if you are sitting on his porch, he truly cares to know who you are. As a matter of fact, "Who are you?" is his favorite question to ask. It's a great question. But, I also know a handful of people who will never return to his home on Frost Avenue. Why? Because they didn't know how to answer "Who are you?"  when he asked, and the more time that passes, the less of an answer they have for him. So they will avoid Frost Avenue until they die. I told him to ask something more concrete, like, "What would your Twitter bio say?" Maybe then people would not be so intimidated by his question. He hasn't adopted the Twitter question yet. Those people are still avoiding Frost Avenue. Hopefully they are not avoiding the question for the wrong reasons.

It is right to be intimidated by questions. One exercise my former college professor walks people through puts them in a pure democracy with a single task and one rule. No one may do or say anything which violates a big picture goal (Being Oriented, Safe, & Valued). One such violation occurs when you ask another person a question. For, in asking them a question, you are forcing them to make a decision regarding whether to (1) answer at all or (2) answer truthfully. Even asking the simplest question forces  a crucial dilemma in human relationships: Answer, Don't Answer, or Lie. My wife (mostly) answers. Those avoiding Frost Avenue are perhaps choosing not to answer. Many people prefer to lie or deflect. But in every case, a choice must be made.

Whether you are asking another human being a question or simply (if there is any simplicity in asking oneself a question) asking yourself, you have three options. Questions are rarely safe. Community is rarely safe. Immersing yourself in the mind/world of another human being is often traumatic. So, the next time you or I ask a question, we must realize what we are really doing. We are opening our horizon of experience, our story of the world we live in, to shift.¹ We are inviting an Other, whether a proper Neighbor or that part of yourself which is yet unknown, to immerse us in their world. It is a noble and richly human task. But be warned. Your horizon may never look the same.

-HGM 

Some good questions to consider:

(1) What's your favorite smell?

(2) What does God look like to you today?

(3) What do you need me to hear from you today?

(4) If you could get lunch with any human being who has ever lived ( and maybe even get coffee after, depending on how lunch goes), who would you meet and why?

¹Here, I am alluding to the work of Hans-Georg Gadamer, 20th century philosopher of Hermeneutics in the Continental tradition. His work on hermeneutics and the fusion of horizons has been a profound impact on my life & thought. For more on him, read here.