Sometimes we find it really hard to ask a question, even it questioning is encouraged. A teacher or lecturer will say "there are no stupid questions" or "the only stupid question is the one which doesn't get asked"or "there are dumb answers but not dumb questions." All done in an effort to draw us out, to give us the courage to ask questions, taking the risk of showing our ignorance to the teacher and to those around us. Often we won't take the risk, and the questions don't get asked. We see that today when Jesus is trying to teach His disciples about His coming death and resurrection (Mk 9: 30- 37). He has deliberately kept others from knowing where He is going so that He can have time alone with only His disciples, hoping that without the distractions of crowds and such He might get through to them. He has set up the perfect opportunity for the disciples to express their confusion, their lack of understanding. There is no one around to hear the "stupid" question except their small group. None-the-less, when the disciples do not understand what Jesus is telling them when He says He will be killed and three days after His death He will rise, they are afraid to question Him. Why? Maybe they are afraid Jesus will snap at them the way He snapped at Peter when Jesus first taught about His death and resurrection and Peter told Jesus He was wrong, that He wouldn't have to die. "Satan," Jesus called Peter. But that response was in the context of Peter's telling Jesus that Jesus was wrong. It is hard to imagine that Jesus would have reacted the same way to a respectful expression of confusion about what was being taught. Maybe we can find the reason why the disciples were reluctant to question Jesus if we remember what they were doing along the way-- arguing about who was the greatest. Certainly the "greatest" would be the person who understood Jesus most completely, who was closest to Him, who was the smartest. In that context, asking a question-- even if it was a question everyone else secretly had-- simply gave everyone else some ammunition to use in the argument about relative "greatness." You can imagine someone saying: "You're obviously not all that in tune with what Jesus is saying. You admit that you don't even understand His teaching about dying and rising again." In the ego battle over who was greater than whom, no one is giving anyone a zinger like that to use. And so an opportunity was wasted. The disciples go into the terrifying events of Jesus trial, crucifixion and death with no real understanding of what Jesus had tried so hard to teach them. No big surprise they all abandoned Him (at least in Mark's recitation of the events). We might ask ourselves if we are like the disciples, if we let our pride, our egos, stand in the way of asking the questions we should ask-- questions about faith, for sure, but also questions about power and governance and the role and responsibility of all the different groups in the Church. Maybe we have also been afraid to look stupid by asking questions about why priests were abruptly pulled from assignments, and sent elsewhere. Maybe we have been too tolerant of odd behavior, or too willing to accept facile answers rather than insisting on the truth. Sure, most of the blame for the abuse crisis is elsewhere, but we might ask ourselves why we let this abuse situation go on for so long. The hardest questions to ask just might be the ones which are most needed. We pray for the courage to ask them.