I recently reread a fiction series that has long been a favorite of my entire family. It’s called The Staff and the Sword, written by Patrick W. Carr.
I can still remember the first time I read the series. By the end of the first book I had more questions than answers. Of course, so did most of the characters. The second book clarified some things, but the third book…exploded. Preconceptions were challenged. Mental horizons were forced to expand. Traditions were shattered. But in the process, pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.
The series is deep enough that I see new things every time I read it. But there is one bold and vivid concept that gets me every time I read the series: The question frames the answer. Without giving too much away (because it’s a series worth reading and I don’t want to spoil it for you if you decide to pick it up), bear with me a bit while I give some very basic context.
In the series, a group of characters known as readers are responsible for gleaning the will of God through the process of casting lots. This process involves holding a question and a potential answer firmly in mind while carving a perfectly round lot out of wood or stone.
The reader can then move on to create a lot with another possible answer to the same question, again holding both the question and answer firmly in mind. There’s a catch, though. The answers have to be somewhat known to the reader casting the lots. For instance, imagine casting lots to determine a destination. Should you go to this location or that one? The reader must know those destinations personally, or must have a solid enough description of them to picture them vividly and accurately while casting. That limits the cast a bit, does it not?
Early in the narrative, that seems to be the main catch. But, that pesky line keeps popping up through the course of the entire series, hinting that there’s more to contend with. The question frames the answer. Ultimately, this ends up being pivotal for the plot. But, with this reread of the series, I’ve gotten the uneasy feeling that this very concept is relevant to real life as well.
Most especially to our prayer life. Our own avenue to seeking and understanding the will of God.
I’ve always been one who likes checklists and step-by-step instructions. I like to do things the “right” way. In a way, this fictional depiction of casting lots appeals to me. There’s a right way to cast. Readers have an inherent capability that they are born with, but then they spend years studying both the history and mechanics of their craft, learning how to cast properly. It’s a factual process, with guidelines and rules to follow.
But, as the story progresses, it becomes evident that there is much more to the craft than simply doing it “right.” And that translates well into our prayers lives. As we pray, there is a need for understanding. A need to grasp the nature of the God we are seeking to communicate with. When Jesus says, “Ask and you will receive,” it’s in the middle of a whole lengthy discourse on the nature of thinking beyond our rules and regulations. It’s a discussion of understanding the heart of the Father we serve. Understanding His purpose behind the rules and instructions. Asking in prayer for guidance based on His character.
And our prayerful questions, both the specific words and the nature behind the asking, reveal greatly whether or not we know His character. Whether or not we are in tune enough to receive the answer. Because the answer to our questioning is very often something beyond our knowledge and understanding. It is something that may even be beyond our imagination. The answer is not just a direction about what to do or where to go next, it is a deeper understanding of the God we serve.
That’s more than a little uncomfortable, whether you are someone like me who loves the tangible or you’re someone who has an imaginative mind. God’s answers go beyond both. And He wants to teach us how to ask the questions that will reveal those powerful answers.
It’s an overwhelming path to follow, but I want to go. I want to follow the path that will teach me to better frame the question. The path that will help me seek answers beyond my limited understanding. The path that will draw me closer to communing with and knowing Almighty God. Will you come with me?
Not Quite Ordinary 