In Defense of Better Questions

In both books, Anderson notes that “distinguishing between good and bad questions is like distinguishing good and bad music.” He also highlights the “‘touch’ that separates great pianists from good ones” (Questions, 158; cf. Exploring, 164–65). There is an intangible quality, an eye, or a feel that differentiates the good from the great in every discipline. You can’t checklist your way to the Hall of Fame in a sport, to musical greatness, or to academic excellence. On the other hands, you can often checklist your way to adequacy. And adequacy is a precursor to excellence.

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The End of Our Exploring - A Review

If what I see on social media is to be believed, all the cool kids are deconstructing the faith of their childhood. It’s all the rage, but it’s not really a new thing.

For some, kissing dating goodbye was a traumatic experience, though for many of the most vocal critics, I suspect Josh Harris’s book provided a solution to a problem they only wish they had. Nevertheless, the experience turned too much for Harris’s faith, as he has recently abandoned Christianity and begun selling “deconstruction kits” along with a series of webinars for $275.

Other deconstruction workers are less entrepreneurial, but there is a steady stream of people who were once overt, professional Christians who have transitioned to making money off of deconverting and encouraging other people to do the same.

One response to the deconstruction/deconversion movement is to provide answers to the cultural defeaters of the day. Standard apologetics books like Lee Strobel’s Case for Christ or Josh McDowell’s More than a Carpenter provide helpful aids to those with general struggles regarding particular questions about Christianity. Other books like Tim Keller’s The Reason for God and Making Sense of God tend to focus on bigger picture problems and defeaters. Recently books like Alisa Childers’s Another Gospel? tell the story of starting down the path of deconstruction and ending back a Jesus. These assume that someone is either outside of Christianity looking in or already down the road of deconversion and need pulling back. It is a helpful approach for many.

But what about those that stand on the fuzzy border between faith and doubt and wonder which way to turn?

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Matthew Lee Anderson’s 2013 book, The End of Our Exploring: A Book About Questioning and the Confidence of Faith, provides a helpful resource for those with questions or who want to create a space for legitimate questions within the faith community.

Anderson is a pastor’s kid who was (by his own confession) the insufferable know-it-all who was too cocksure to ask good questions or hear good answers. He has come a long way, and this book can help readers make significant progress without some of the awkward relationships.

The book begins by exploring the nature of questioning, identifying that many questions are not good questions because they presuppose an answer. They key message is that good questions can be helpful as we seek to recalibrate our faith—knocking off the pieces inconsistent with Scripture and keeping the parts that fit with an integrated biblical understanding––but most people are not well-equipped to ask good questions.

Anderson goes on to note that our information economy that values data rather than wisdom contributes to shallowness of discourse. So does the shallowness with which much of the Christian community in the West actually holds their Christian convictions. The result is that young people often either fail to ask good questions or encounter hostility when questions are asked.

Questioning is viewed as dangerous in some churches because too few people know the answers. In some churches, questioning is taboo because it leads to the uncovering of inconsistencies between faith and practice. Sometimes questioning is unwelcome because the people being questioned have the same questions, fear they are wrong, but are clinging to faith in the face of that prospect.

Some see questioning as an act of faithlessness, but Anderson shows how good questioning can be a catalyst for a deeper faith, because there are valid answers to the hardest questions that can be tossed at Christianity. The End of Our Exploring explains why that is so and also helps the reader begin to formulate better questions.

As a parent of children who “know all the answers” because we have spent a lot of time on discipleship, I find Anderson’s faithful but open approach to questioning helpful. This is a book that I will have my children read toward the end of high school. Sometimes it is frightening that my kids have the ready answers to theological questions. I worry that they have borrowed my authority, as it were, because they have seen me teach through an abbreviated systematic theology, several books of the Bible, and other topical lessons. They know that I have read the books and explored the questions, but it is important that they do some of their own exploring, too.

The way that Anderson encourages exploring is critical to the outcome achieved. The nature of this exploring is clear from the title of the book, which comes from a T. S. Eliot poem:

And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

That perspective marks the fundamental difference between faithful questioning and deconstructing. When people deconstruct they are seeking to tear down because they’ve already decided the thing is wrong. Anderson’s questioning and exploring is an attempt to know the truth better. It does not presuppose the truth, as if the conclusion is foregone and the exploration is simply a sowing of wild oats, but it does not begin from a posture of skepticism and caustic disbelief.

 The End of Our Exploring is a warm, personal book. It is thoughtful, rigorous, and challenging. Above all, it is helpful as I continue my exploring and seek to point other explorers toward a deeper understanding of truth.