Psalm 131: God’s Answer to our Every Question

I used to say that whenever I made it to heaven God would answer all of my questions — I’ve had so many questions…

Why did I turn out the way I did? Why wasn’t I given a different sin with which to struggle? Why can’t I take back horrible decisions? Why does it feel as though my sin is greater than God’s grace? Will God always forgive me for what I’ve done? Why did my parents die when and how they did? Why is life full of so much uncertainty? Where is God when all else seems to be falling apart? If we are predestined, then where is our freedom? If we are free, then how can God know the future? If we are both free and predestined, then how does that work? Why does life seem routine and inane? Is there any meaning in what I do or just in the big acts of history? How did God create everything? Why have the Browns been so bad for so long? And many more…

I realize most of these questions are unanswerable this side of heaven even though I have concocted answers to most of them. I’ve imagined getting to heaven and having daily (whatever that might mean in the scope of eternity) Gather-around-God-and-get-the-good-stuff sessions where God unveils the intricacies of himself and his creation. I’ve even imagined standing up after God finishes explaining and yelling “I Told You So!” to a number of my friends who are sitting nearby. I mean, who doesn’t think their answers to the great questions of life, the universe, and everything are the right ones? Although I suspect there will be a few answers I haven’t gotten right, overall, I’ve always thought my score would be quite high.

But I don’t think that anymore. Not really.

It’s not that I believe my answers are wrong, it’s that I’ve come to believe that once in God’s presence we won’t really care about the questions anymore.

What I mean is this: think about the moment just after Job and his friends concluded their debate about why bad things happened to Job and God shows up and begins asking Job a series of questions of his own. Look at the questions God asked and it doesn’t really seem that God intended for Job to answer any of them. It seems like God was telling Job that there are many things in the world — things he encounters every day — for which Job doesn’t have an answer. God wants Job to know if he can’t explain how the universe was created or why, when, and where goats go to give birth, or if Job doesn’t have the power to control the beasts of the land and the weather of the skies, then how could Job possibly understand the intimate details of how and why God does what he does?

Job’s response to God’s questions is very important. He says,

I am unworthy — how can I reply to you?
I spoke once, but I have no answer
Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.
My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you.
Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.

When confronted with the presence of God, Job didn’t push the issue and keep asking questions. No. He realized as he stood before God that he was unworthy to ask any questions. Job thought he understood something about God and the universe, but in the presence of God, he realized most things are too wonderful, too amazing, and too complex for him to know. As a result, Job stopped asking questions and sat in silence before the Lord.

I think it is no accident that at this point in the Songs of Ascent, Psalm 131 echoes the same conclusion at which Job had arrived. The psalmist has previously (Psalm 120-130) expressed how he has been saved from his enemies and forgiven of his sins but now, in Psalm 131, he concludes that it is better to rest contentedly in the arms of the Lord than to anxiously seek for answers to questions he could never understand.

Have you ever seen a baby asleep in its mother’s arms? There seems to be no complexity to the baby’s thought process. It has been satisfied at its most basic level and now the only thing it wishes for is rest in the arms of the one who gave it life and continues to feed it. Babies never ask where mothers come from. They never question how milk is produced. They never engage in deep philosophical debates over whether there is a mother or not. They just happily rest knowing they are cared for.

This isn’t to say we shouldn’t study the scriptures and seek to grow in our knowledge of God, but it does mean that our relationship with God is one of complete trust, not holding any part of ourselves back from his loving presence. God is ultimately not a thing to dissect, debate, or defend, he is not an ethic to examine, expound, or enforce, he is simply a person to love.

I used to say that whenever I made it to heaven God would answer all of my questions — I’ve had so many questions — but now I know that when I get to heaven those questions won’t really matter. And I imagine I won’t be the only one there who will respond as Job did and simply rest in the presence of the Lord.

2 comments

  1. M

    Yes! Yes! In my core I feel (know) this is true!
    However if there is a q&a session in heaven, could Tate and I sit by you???

  2. o

    Sure. But I don’t think I’ll be asking too many questions.

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