[Jesus said to his disciples:] “So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asked for a fish, would give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asked for an egg, would give a scorpion? If you, then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:9-13)
To be a disciple of Jesus is to learn to live with perpetually empty hands. We are never the permanent experts, drilling the correct theological answers into the minds of others so that they can get into heaven, and neither are we in the position of perpetual givers who look down condescendingly on the needy as we dole out crumbs, overstock, and merchandise we didn't want anymore. All too often in the name of religion, we like to cast ourselves as the ones with all the answers or the ones with all the resources, and that people can come to us (so long as we're feeling charitable) for what they need in this life or the next. That becomes a great way for us to stroke our egos and cast ourselves as the heroes, the masters, and the authorities--but it is not really the way Jesus sees us. We are disciples, after all.
Disciples learn from a teacher in open admission of all that they still do not know; they live in the tension of questions, rather than prepackaged one-size-fits-all answers. Disciples receive from their teacher, their rabbi, and at best they share with others what has been shown to them. Or like the old line goes, they are "beggars telling other beggars where to find bread." In particular, Jesus teaches us as his disciples to be constantly in the posture of open-handed receiving and open-minded seeking, rather than walking through the world with fists tightly clenched around our "right" answers, "righteous" status, or the resources we think are ours to control, distributing to those we think are "worthy." Jesus compels us to see ourselves as perpetually dependent on the God who gives what we need: guidance, grace, and daily bread. Whatever good we find in our hands has been a gift, and such gifts are meant to be shared.
For an awful lot of the past twenty centuries, I think a good many church folks (and certainly a great many of our churchy institutions) have been uncomfortable with that and tried to cast ourselves as the answer-giving Big Experts or the resource-distributing Big Donors. And no wonder--that kind of role lets us be in charge, deciding who is acceptable... and who is not, or who merits our assistance... and who wouldn't be grateful enough to receive it. Casting ourselves as the ones with the good stuff and everyone else as the poor slobs dependent on our charity as a way of puffing up our self-worth and letting us feel like we are in control. Jesus, however, takes some of the air out of our over-inflated egos by reminding us we are forever the ones asking, seeking, and knocking. Whatever good we have to share with the world, whether the good news of the gospel or the resources to feed and clothe our neighbors, first came from the God who gives. If we took that seriously, perhaps the world might hear what we have to say rather than dismissing us as arrogant jerks or aspiring colonizers (and to be honest, we've given them plenty of reasons to see us as both of those over the centuries).
Something else happens to us when we see ourselves as disciples rather than self-described experts who have "graduated" beyond being students. We keep listening. We keep looking. We keep learning. When you think you have "mastered" a subject, you don't believe there is anyone else worth listening to, anyone else's perspective that can inform yours, or anything else to be gleaned. You'll miss out on the insight you didn't even know you were missing, or the wonder over some unexpected new discovery. When you tell yourself you are the "expert," you picture the Important Information as a complete (and contained) set of facts that you already know, like learning the finite list of state capitals, U.S. presidents, or elements on the periodic table. But when you see yourself as a constant student, your eyes will always be open, searching for something new; your ears will be open to wisdom you did not already possess; and your hands will be open to receive gifts of grace because you are not too proud to think you have it all already.
Before we head out into the world telling ourselves that we Christians are the sole experts on God's truth and divinely-approved distributors of God's grace, Jesus adjusts our vision so that we see ourselves for what we really are--disciples who keep asking questions, who continue seeking for guidance, who knock as guests receiving welcome rather than keeping others out as self-appointed gatekeepers. That makes all the difference in the world. Now, go and see what there is to be learned, received, and shared out there.
Lord Jesus, keep us mindful that we are your disciples, always learning, rather than masters who think they know it all.
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