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 12^th 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.