When God Asks A Question

When my kids were young, they asked lots of questions. How does the car engine run? What does that street sign mean? Why do I have to use good manners? And the one I heard more often than any other: When will we get home?

Questions are an important part of communication and of learning. If we don’t ask, we don’t learn. Many a teacher has said, “there are no dumb questions.” We ask questions to learn more about something—to acquire necessary information. We even ask questions to show another person that we are interested in learning who they are and what is happening in their life.

A question implies that we lack knowledge in some area. We need directions to a location. We need to understand the correct method or steps to accomplish a task. We need data or facts about a situation. We need wisdom and understanding. We ask so that we can know.

Questions God Asks

This leads me to a question: why does God ask questions in the Bible? Consider when Adam and Eve sinned in Genesis 3. They ran and hid from God and the Bible says, “the LORD God called to the man and said to him, ‘Where are you?’ (v.9). Did he really not know where they were? Did he need directions to find their location? Of course not. God doesn’t need to learn anything; there’s no knowledge he needs to acquire. There’s nothing that he lacks. He sees all things, knows all things, and rules over all things (Ps. 33:13; Lam. 3:37-39; Is. 40:28; Heb. 4:13). He even knows what we are thinking and feeling before we do (Ps. 139:1-3). One commentary suggests God asks them this question, not about their physical location, but their spiritual location. They are no longer united to him as they once were. There is now a barrier between them. A sin barrier. He wants them to confess their sin, to realize the full significance of what has happened. But God does so with grace. He doesn’t seem to appear immediately after they sin, for they have time to create coverings for themselves. They likely hide out all night in the cover of the trees until morning. God doesn’t come stomping his way to them. He simply walks in the garden as he always did with them each morning. They then receive the due punishment for their sin—but grace upon grace!— they learn of a promised Redeemer to come (Gen. 3:15). He covers them with a sacrificed animal skin and sends them out of the garden.

God asks another interesting question in 1 Kings 19. This is the story of what happened with Elijah after he killed the prophets of Baal in the previous chapter. Queen Jezebel learns of it and promises vengeance against him. He flees in fear into the wilderness and says, “It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers” (v. 4). An angel attends to him, feeds him, and he rests. Then he goes to meet with God on Mount Horeb. There God asks him a question, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (v.9). Is God surprised that Elijah has shown up at the mountain to see him? No. God sent an angel to attend to him, to strengthen him so that he could journey to the mountain to speak to him. Elijah responds by recounting all that he had done as a prophet and how God’s people continue in their worship of false gods. God then reveals himself to Elijah and not in the way he expected. He reveals himself not in wind, earthquake, or fire (ways in which he showed himself to Moses and the people on Mt. Sinai) but instead, in a gentle whisper—in silence (vv.11-12). God then asks him again, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (v. 13).

God asks so that Elijah would see what brought him to this place—his fear, not of God, but of Jezebel. Elijah believed he had failed in his job. He believed God’s people would never turn from their sins. He believed he was all alone. And he saw Jezebel as greater than the God who rules the wind, the earth, and fire. He forgot that he was never alone. God was merciful to Elijah even as he complained and despaired and forgot the truth. Even before Elijah made it to the mountain, God met Elijah in his exhaustion with food and rest. He then told Elijah his plan to destroy the house of Ahab, save a faithful remnant, and provide a prophet to replace him. Even more, Elijah had feared death by the hand of Jezebel; God made a way for him to never face death (2 Kings 2:11).

What about when God asks Jonah a question? Many are familiar of Jonah’s story where he fled from God rather than obey him. He didn’t want to bring God’s word to his enemies and see them repent and God spare their lives. So he took a ship going the opposite direction and ended up in the belly of a great fish. He eventually—and begrudgingly—went to the city of Nineveh and called them to repentance. They did repent and God did not destroy them. Jonah then responds in anger. He says, “O LORD, is not this what I said when I was yet in my country? That is why I made haste to flee to Tarshish; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster. Therefore now, O LORD, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live” (vv.2-3). And God responds with a question. “Do you do well to be angry?”

In many ways, this is rhetorical. As readers, we know Jonah’s anger is not righteous anger. God doesn’t ask it because he doesn’t know the answer. He doesn’t ask it because Jonah needs to explain himself or justify his response. He asks it so that Jonah would evaluate his heart and see the sin that resides there and repent. He’s offering him the same opportunity God gave to the Ninevites.

When God Asks Us a Question

These three accounts make me think that when God asks a question, it might be for our benefit rather than for his. He asks questions so that we might learn. It’s no coincidence that each of these stories show people on the run, hiding from what they fear. But they hide because their fears are disordered fears. They hide because they don’t fear God with a holy fear—he isn’t great in their eyes. Someone or something else has become greater. Adam and Eve desired to be like God and sinned against him by eating the fruit. They realized their nakedness and feared standing before God in their shame. Elijah feared Jezebel and saw only her wrath and power, forgetting that the LORD of hosts never left his side. Jonah feared the loss of what he held dear; he feared the Ninevites would receive the grace he believed belonged only to the nation of Israel.

In each of these circumstances, they turned their gaze from God. They yielded their heart to something else. They forgot who he was. They forgot who they were. So God asked a probing question—a question that gets at the heart of their problem.

What question might God be asking of you or me today? Where are we spiritually? What has brought us to this place? Is it right and good for us to think or feel the way we do? God knows the true state of our hearts. He knows where our allegiances lie. He knows the ways our hearts are tempted to seek life and hope apart from him. He knows the false loves we turn to. He knows how we worship what we fear and fear what we worship and far too often, it’s not him.

God knows. The question is, do we know?

Photo by Artur Rutkowski on Unsplash

Whom Do You Trust?

I never realized how much the fear of man gripped my heart until I studied and researched for my books on idolatry and fear. In doing so, I saw how much caring about the thoughts of others influenced my choices, in everything from parenting to housework. I saw how I worshipped the praise and adoration of others and how I found purpose and meaning in how others responded to me. It opened my eyes to the true content of my heart and my need for God’s transforming grace.

Ultimately, I realized I placed my trust in all the wrong places.

The prophet Jeremiah prophesied to God’s people, to warn them of the consequences for their idolatry. If you are familiar with the book, you know he was not well received. That’s because he got to the heart of the matter. He revealed the depths of Israel’s depravity and how far they had wandered from God. In essence, he held up a mirror so they could see the true state of their condition and they didn’t like it. In chapter 17, it tells us that their sin had become so great it was “written with a pen of iron; with a point of diamond it is engraved on the tablet of their heart” (v.1).

In verses 5-10, Jeremiah then contrasts the one who trusts in man versus the one who trusts in the Lord. To trust here is to put hope and confidence in another. “Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart turns away from the LORD” (v.5). When we fear man, when we look to others for the rescue that only God can give—our hearts turn away from the One who made us and calls us his own. In Jeremiah’s day, Babylon threatened to conquer them and God’s people turned to political alliances for help and deliverance, rather than place their hope in God himself. One who trusts in man, rather than God, is “like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see any good come. He shall dwell in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land” (v.6).

In the Bible, the wilderness is always a place of danger, of darkness, and of emptiness. Adam and Eve had to leave the Garden of Eden because of their sin and enter the wilderness outside the flaming sword, a place of spiritual barrenness where they would no longer commune with God. Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, a place filled with poisonous snakes and bitter water, and only survived because of the gracious provision of God through manna and water from the rock. Jesus was tempted by Satan in the wilderness for forty days, and unlike Israel, was faithful to God, sustained by the same word God had given to Israel in their wilderness wanderings.

Jeremiah contrasts the one who trusts in man with one who trusts in the Lord: “Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit” (vv.7-8). The one who trusts in God finds refuge and security in him—that’s what the Hebrew refers to in “whose trust is the LORD.” He is compared to a tree planted by the water which roots run deep. No matter the heat or lack of rain, this tree always grows and bears fruit. The one who trusts in the Lord, who fears him rather than man, is one who is always spiritually nourished and satisfied. When the heat of circumstances come, when the year of drought arrives, he is not worried or anxious, nor does he turn to counterfeit saviors; he finds his refuge in God alone. As Jesus told the woman at the well, “whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (Jn.4:14). Author Ed Welch summarizes this Jeremiah 17 passage: “fear of man is a curse that leaves us feeling destitute or empty. The alternative, trust in God, is a blessing that leads to life and fullness.”[1]

Jeremiah then explains why we are drawn to the fear of man: “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it? I the LORD search the heart and test the mind, to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds” (vv.9-10). The heart is the core of who we are. It is the center of our wills, desires, thoughts, emotions, and choices. It is what drives us. And it is so deceitful, we cannot understand it. We are filled with self-deception. We “follow our heart” into the wilderness where we cannot survive.

But God understands. He knows our heart. And because he knows, he made a way for us to have new hearts. Jeremiah 24:7 looks to that day, a day fulfilled in Christ: “I will give them a heart to know that I am the LORD, and they shall be my people and I will be their God, for they shall return to me with their whole heart.” Jesus came to this wilderness we call home, to live the life we could not live and die the death we deserved. In doing so, he brought us back into fellowship with God. The Spirit gives us new hearts that can now turn to him in trust. This means we don’t have to fear man. We don’t have to turn to others for hope and deliverance. We don’t have to look to counterfeit saviors to tell us we are worthy or to give our lives meaning. We don’t have to look for approval from other people. Because we are united to Christ by faith, we have the approval of the only One that matters. And when God looks at us, he says “With you I am well pleased.”

Whom do you trust? Do you fear man or God? “The friendship of the LORD is for those who fear him, and he makes known to them his covenant” (Ps. 25:14).

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

[1] Journal of Biblical Counseling, Fall 1994.

God's Promises to the Fearful

When I was teen, I went through a dark season of depression and despair. Everything in my life felt hopeless. The future was dark and bleak. I felt like I was at the bottom of a pit and no amount of clawing at the walls would pull me out of it. I struggled to get through each day—to put one foot in the front of the other.

At the time, I worked at my local library—one of my favorite jobs I’ve ever had! I often re-shelved books after they were returned by library patrons. As I placed the books back snugly in their home beside the other books on the shelves, I often flipped through them to see if they interested me. Over time, I found myself taking home books from the religion section, books written by Graham, Lewis, Sproul, even Joni Earekson Tada. I started writing down quotes from these books and posting them on the wall of my bedroom. Any Bible passages they quoted I memorized and tacked to my wall as well. These morsels of truth fed my hurting heart. I clung to those words which pointed me to the One who saved me. I put my hope in these promises, that while the sky was black as night above me, the light would one day return and penetrate the darkness.

And it did.

Do you have a favorite promise of God? Perhaps there is a passage you turn to time and time again to remind you that God is with you in your sufferings and trials. Or you rest in the truth that your salvation is secure, even though the devil tries to tell you otherwise. Or when the pains of life are unrelenting, you look forward to the promise of everlasting joy in eternity. There are numerous promises laced throughout Scripture, each of which are rooted in the meta-promise that God will be our God and we will be his people.

As I read and researched for A Holy Fear, I marveled at the numerous promises God makes to those who fear him. Even more, when I contrasted these promises to those of our lesser fears. For what does future fear promise but loss and sorrow? What does the fear of man promise but more rejection and heartbreak? Can the fear of harm promise rescue or deliverance?

All our lesser fears can promise is only more fear to come.

But for those who fear the Lord in the face of lesser fear—those who turn to the Lord in awe, wonder, worship, adoration, trust, and worship—are promised more than we can even imagine. Promises such as:

• Deliverance (Psalm 33:16-19)

• Satisfaction/Contentment in God (Proverbs 19:23)

• Friendship with God (Psalm 25:14)

• God’s Delight and Pleasure (Psalm 147:10–11)

• God will teach us (Psalm 25:12)

• Good for us (Psalm 34:8–10)

• Everlasting mercy (Psalm 103:17)

And there are many more found throughout the pages of God’s word! Each of these promises are rooted in the person and character of God, for whatever God says always comes to pass. God’s word does all that he wills it to; it never returns void: “so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it” (Isaiah 55:11). We can trust God’s promises for us because he is faithful. He is our promise keeping God.

Dear friend, if your fears overshadow you today, if they whisper promise of more fear around every corner, turn to the Lord. Come to the throne of grace and bring your fears before him. See him in all his glory and wonder and find him as greater. Fall before him in reverence and worship. Relish his goodness and faithfulness toward you. Mediate on and savor the joy of his promises for you. Hang it around your neck like a necklace, identifying you as his own.

As John Bunyan wrote:

“Child of God, thou that fearest God, here is mercy nigh thee, mercy enough, everlasting mercy upon thee. This is long-lived mercy. It will live longer than thy sin, it will live longer than temptation, it will live longer than thy sorrows, it will live longer than thy persecutors. It is mercy from everlasting to contrive thy salvation, and mercy to everlasting to weather it out with all thy adversaries. Now what can hell and death do to him that hath this mercy of God upon him? And this hath the man that feareth the Lord. Take that other blessed word, and O thou man that fearest the Lord, hang it like a chain of gold about thy neck—"As the heaven is high above the earth, so great is his mercy toward them that fear him" (Psa 103:11). If mercy as big, as high, and as good as heaven itself will be a privilege, the man that feareth God shall have a privilege.” (A Treatise on the Fear of the Lord, p.85).

Do you know God’s promises for those who fear him?