Krista Tippett packs a punch in her podcast about living the questions. Not only does she encourage us to think about what questions are living themselves out in our lives, but she also encourages us to think deeply about the power of good questions.

She says, "I have deep reverence for the power of questions in a human life. This is undervalued in a culture that is in love with the form of words that is an answer, and the way of words that is an argument."

Did you read that? We are in love with words that form an answer, and the way of words that is an argument.

Boom. Mic drop on our culture right now. Could this be the reason we have stopped talking to each other, stopped being curious, stopped listening? We just want answers; to give them or get them. We just want arguments, and we want to win.

Tippett challenges us, however, to see that "a question is a mighty form of words."

A question is a mighty form of words.

Sit in that wisdom for just a moment, ok?

Then read this: "I have learned that questions elicit answers in their likeness. That answers rise or fall to the questions they meet. It’s very hard to respond to a combative question with anything but a combative answer. Almost impossible to transcend a simplistic question with anything but a simplistic answer. But the opposite is also true: It’s hard to resist a generous question."

Tippett continues: "[Asking generous questions] is a skill that needs to be relearned. We need to ask questions that invite, that draw forth searching, and dignity, and revelation. There is something redemptive and life-giving about asking a better question."

Where do we even start?

What about committing to relearn the skill of asking a generous question?

Questions like:

  • Can you tell me your story?
  • How did that opinion or that point of view come to be part of your way of seeing the world?
  • What is bringing you life and joy right now?
  • What is breaking your heart?
  • What were you like as a little kid?
  • What is your understanding of God? How did that come about?
  • As you think back on your life, what are you most grateful for?
  • Is there anything you regret? Would you be willing to tell me about it

You get the idea.

And here's the key: After we ask a generous question, we must commit to being a generous listener. We listen for understanding. We listen because we care, because we are genuinely curious, because we find people fascinating and we expect to be amazed by them. We listen for as long as it takes the person we asked the question to to answer. We listen with our whole bodies - eyes, ears, heart, face, everything.

What might change in this world if we started to believe not just in answers and arguments, but in the truth that a question is a mighty form of words?