Many Catholics (and, I imagine, other Christians) encounter a certain kind of “gotcha” mindset when interacting with some non-believers. Such people come up with a line of thought or question that they think is completely unanswerable to believers. They spring these questions on Christians like they’re putting down a can’t-lose poker hand: “How can God be all-knowing and humans still have free will?” or “How can God be all-powerful and all-loving but still allow suffering in the world?” or “How can Catholics claim to believe in the First Commandment when they worship Mary?”
Some of these types of questions are straightforward to resolve: We don’t “worship” Mary; we venerate her. Some are trickier questions that wise people — including many saints — have grappled with over the millennia; their findings and reflections on these very questions can bring you closer to God. Some still are addressed by the Bible itself; the Book of Job is all about asking the question of why bad things can happen to good people.
But what I find interesting, in reflecting on today’s readings, is that these sort of “gotcha” questions about Christianity are older than Christianity itself as we know it! In today’s Gospel selection from Mark, Jesus deals with such a question from some Sadducees, who don’t believe in the resurrection and attempt to spring a “gotcha” question on Jesus, concocting a scenario where a woman ends up marrying seven brothers in succession as each brother dies, and asking to whom would the woman be married upon the resurrection.
Jesus, of course, provides an excellent answer, offering stunning insight into both the nature of the resurrection (“When they rise from the dead, they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but they are like the angels in heaven”), as well as the nature of our relationship with God (“He is not God of the dead but of the living”). How could we expect less than such a breathtaking answer from our Lord and Savior?
Moreover, I wondered about the mindset of the Sadducees. I suspect they weren’t truly seeking understanding, but were trying to see if they could get Christ to make a mistake or go, “Gee, I guess you all are right and I’m wrong.” (Of course, that wasn’t going to happen; Jesus knows what he’s doing!) But when Jesus didn’t do what they hoped or expected, what did the Sadducees do? Did they listen to his answer? Were they swayed? Or did they harden their hearts when faced with the prospect of a truth they weren’t willing to comprehend?
The section of Mark immediately after today’s Gospel selection begins, “One of the scribes, when he came forward and heard them disputing and saw how well he had answered them, asked him, ‘Which is the first of all the commandments?'” This, of course, prompts another great lesson from Jesus . . . but that section ends, “And no one dared to ask him any more questions.” So clearly these conversations with Christ had some impact on those who sought to trip him up, but I’m curious if they didn’t “dare to ask him any more questions” because they realized they couldn’t make him stutter or stumble or because they realized that the crowd — and perhaps some among their own number — were beginning to see the truth.
Of course, I don’t have the infallibility and infinite wisdom of God; at times I feel like I don’t have the wisdom God gave my rabbit! But I still do what I can to address questions from the “Sadducees” in my life. If I’m asked such a question, I’ll usually reply, “Why are you asking?” If a non-believer is lashing out at the injustices of the universe because of a personal tragedy, it’s churlish to offer platitudes or doctrine when a Christlike ear would bring them closer to the light. Similarly if someone responds to “Why are you asking?” to a “gotcha” question with something like, “Oh, I’m just venting about Christians,” I’ll try to offer a sympathetic ear: “Okay! Well, if you ever do want to hear the thoughts of an actual Catholic, I’m happy to buy you a cup of coffee and we can chat.” And if they seem genuinely curious or receptive, I’m happy to offer my insight.
Regardless, I think it’s important to know and understand that ill-wishers have been attacking the truth through obfuscation, rhetoric, and smugness since the Garden of Eden, and — again — even Christ himself wasn’t immune to questions seeking to attack his beliefs. If you do find yourself so challenged, trust in God; the Holy Spirit came to us specifically to proclaim the truth and defend our convictions, and we should have faith that God’s promises will provide comfort and strength regardless of the adversities — even the “Sadducees” – of our lives.
Today’s readings: Tb 3:1-11A,16-17A; Ps 25:2-3,4-5AB,6 and 7BC,8-9; Mk 12:18-27
