Mystery
A co-worker is getting married this weekend. Our brief conversations on the topic caused
me to remember my own wedding of almost 24 years ago—the planning, anticipation
and finally, the big day. Friends and
family were shocked that I didn’t want a video of the ceremony, so much so that
in the end I agreed to allow the reception to be video graphed. (Those were the days before everyone had cell
phone cameras and video capability.) The
fellow chosen for the job was a friend of a friend who kindly agreed to do it
gratis, which was a good thing because the result was a swishing series of
floor boards and shoes, with interludes of moments focused on my voluptuous
friend Sharon’s lovely blue cardigan.
I didn’t want the ceremony captured for all time because I
had the feeling that it would be ruined for me over the years if every detail
was readily available for scrutiny and re-judgment. I wanted to be able to remember it based upon
my personal, inner experience, not for who was there and what they wore, not so
much for what was said or the candles or the roses or the church. I wanted it to remain a mystery—this
life-changing union and promise. I
wanted the memory to be able to grow with our marriage, to be what we needed at
the moment over the years.
There’s a lot to be said for mystery. In mystery we find wonder, amazement, a sense
of truth yet to be revealed. In the face
of mystery, we can choose to ponder, to consider what it’s all about, to
meditate on new possibilities.
I love the mysteries of God!
I love the Trinity, three distinct yet united beings, one holy God. I love the virgin birth, the mystical
overshadowing of the Holy Spirit that produced the only offspring of the only
Almighty universal being. I love the miracles
of Jesus, utterly unbelievable and yet we believe.
During the past Lenten season, I was asked to consider this
question: “What if there had been a video of the resurrection? What would we see?” The thought completely unsettled me; I was appalled
to think there could exist mean, crude proof of the greatest mystery of
all. I was repulsed and grateful that
there was no such thing. Mankind would
have examined, analyzed, and debated every detail of the evidence, arguing
every possible point to their own end.
How horrifying!
And yet, sitting here in my chair thinking about this, I
realize that’s exactly what has happened anyway, without photographic
record. Even the early church argued
over what happened and how, and families were split apart because of individual
beliefs on the matter. In the book of
the Acts of the Apostles, we read that the reason a new 12th man was
chosen to replace Judas was because “one of these must become
a witness with us of his resurrection.” [Acts 1:22]
After all, then, I am safe with my
mysteries. They can never be taken from
me until the day I meet God face-to-face, when, as we are told by Paul, “then I
shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” [1 Cor. 13:12] Until then, I can still turn to my best
friend and ask Him to explain things to me, to give me His perspective. I can still nestle in to the mysteries of God
and find a deep peace in my unknowing.
