Some of us were raised in environments where it was fine to ask questions. Perhaps our parents, teachers, and pastors were happy to entertain our curiosity about the world around us and the things we didn’t understand. But other families, schools, and church communities view questions as a form of doubt or a challenge to authority. In such contexts, we learn to keep our confusion and searching to ourselves. In time, stifled children who can’t give voice to their questions may become adults who don’t ask any questions at all—of life or of themselves.
Yet any grown-up scholar will attest that curiosity and questioning are the impetus for all wisdom and learning. Curiosity makes art, invention, exploration, and other creative endeavors possible. The world remains narrow and stale for those who don’t ask or wonder. Questions remain the best tools for tunneling out of ignorance into a wider, more hopeful vision.
This month, we continue to celebrate our Jubilee of Hope. Rome is hosting and honoring pilgrims who are workers (May 1–4), entrepreneurs (4–5), musical bands (10–11), confraternities (16–18), children (24–25), and families (May 30–June 1). If I ran an Etsy shop or played in a garage band, I’d definitely want to be in Rome on my weekend to see who else from my peer group is passing through the Holy Door. But the best time to be in Rome might be on the jubilee days for children. Especially if the kids are given an audience with the pope and allowed to ask whatever questions came into their heads.
In the gospel narratives, Jesus seems to value a good question. He’s recorded as asking over 300 questions himself, and he fields nearly 200 others from disciples and opponents alike. Ancient teachers—the great Socrates comes to mind—appreciated that sometimes a question was the whole lesson plan. If you ask the right question, that is. Such as: Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another? What must I do to inherit eternal life? Who do you say that I am?
Asking the right question is key. But so is staying on the scene long enough to hear the answer. When Pilate asks the crucial question of Jesus during his trial—What is truth?—Pilate immediately exits the praetorium, as if quite sure a Galilean teacher has nothing of merit to offer on the subject.
Even as a child, Luke tells us, the boy Jesus had many questions for the teachers in the Temple. He was not about to walk out on answers he sought so earnestly on that rare visit to Jerusalem. His eagerness to learn led to his failure to rejoin his family’s caravan on their return to Nazareth. Jesus paid the price with his parents’ anger and anxiety. Yet questions were so important to him, it was a risk he was willing to take.
No wonder, when later asked about who is greatest in the kingdom, Jesus selects a child and declares that anyone who welcomes a child is really welcoming him. On a similar occasion, when the disciples shoo away those bringing their children to Jesus for a blessing, Jesus insists that children are the true possessors of the kingdom and are not to be kept from him.
We’re never told what transpires between Jesus and the children after the disciples sheepishly admit them back into the circle around their teacher. We’ve seen the poster of this scene so many times in religious ed classrooms, we almost imagine Jesus chose to give them their own special sermon on the grass. Considering his teaching style and his tremendous respect for children, it’s more likely Jesus waited on their questions. Maybe the exchange went something like this:
KIDS: Jesus, is it hard to walk so far every day to do your job?
JESUS: The walking part isn’t hard. I actually like it, since it gives me a chance to plan what to say to the next crowd. If I pass a lot of fields and vineyards, I think about stories to tell to farmers. If there’s a town on the horizon, I consider stories about making or losing money to tell to shopkeepers. And if I’m heading to a synagogue, I know I’m just going to yell at the religion teachers. [The kids giggle, and Jesus laughs with them.]
KIDS: Jesus, do you miss your mommy when you go so many places?
JESUS: Good question! When I was teaching around my hometown, my mom mostly stayed home with relatives. I didn’t see her much because I was busy. But now that I’m heading toward Jerusalem, my mother and lots of other women are coming with us. So I get to see her more now, and we both like that.
KIDS: Are you ever scared to talk to so many people, especially because you don’t know them?
JESUS: I’m going to give you five words to remember: “Perfect love casts out fear.” Can you repeat those? “Perfect love casts out fear.” When I look out at all the faces of hungry people, sad people, sick people, I just love them. And if you love, you’re never afraid.
KIDS: When you go from town to town, is everybody nice?
JESUS: Many people are really nice! They bring us home for supper and invite us to stay overnight. When you bring good news to people, those who hear it are very happy. And those who are healed from what hurts them are very grateful.
KIDS: What do you do about the mean people?
JESUS: [Suddenly looks a little tired.] People—yes, they can be mean. [Pauses.] They’re not as mean now as they will be. [Looks away, then back to the children with an earnest expression.] Here’s what you need to know about mean people: They’re mean because they’re scared of you. They’re afraid you’ll take something from them, maybe their power or their stuff. The only way to show them how to be good is to not fight back.
KIDS: [Concerned.] But then they can hurt you!
JESUS: [Nods seriously.] They can. They probably will.
KIDS: Maybe you shouldn’t go to Jerusalem. The Romans are there. And lots of soldiers. And the king. And the high priest! People there have a lot of power and stuff.
JESUS: That’s why I have to go. I have to go to the mean people, because they need me the most. But remember what I said—
KIDS: Perfect love casts out fear!
JESUS: Exactly! You got it. I’m going to Jerusalem to teach the whole world what love is. [He straightens his back, looks away toward Jerusalem again. The weariness is gone from his face and he seems resolved and at peace.]
KIDS: [Sensing his departure is near.] Will we see you again, Jesus?
JESUS: [With great tenderness.] Look for me and you’ll find me. I promise.
It’s easy for us to imagine what sort of questions children might bring to Jesus, because in a way we’re all children before him. Our questions feel a little shy and a little simple. Will I see my deceased loved ones again? Will this pain ever go away? Is peace possible? Does God really love me? Will everything be OK in the end?
As pilgrims of hope, we can bring these questions and more to the one who went to Jerusalem for love’s sake.
This article also appears in the May 2025 issue of U.S. Catholic (Vol. 90, No. 5, pages 47-49). Click here to subscribe to the magazine.
Image: Wikimedia Commons
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