On Mystery
Part 1, Getting Past My Allergic Reaction
I've been thinking about mystery.
My thinking was set into motion by a brief conversation I had with my friend and ACU colleague Paul Morris. Paul is a physicist and a philosopher and he hosts "Philosophy Roundtables" at ACU where our faculty can gather around conversations where theology, philosophy, and science intersect. When I ran into Paul at our campus Starbucks he mentioned he was thinking about a Roundtable on the topic of mystery. I've been think about mystery ever since.
Theologically speaking, what do we mean by "mystery"? And when is it appropriate or not to make an appeal to mystery in theological conversations?
I've been pondering these questions because my opinion about mystery has changed over the years. For much of my adulthood, from college into my 40s, I was in a pretty skeptical, disenchanted place. I've described these years as my "Christian agnostic" phase. Still practicing Christianity and committed to my local church, but a bit unsure about if any of it was true. My general stance during this time was basically "even if it's not true, following Jesus is a beautiful way to live."
During these years I had a strong allergic reaction to any appeal to mystery. My feeling at the time was that "mystery" was a theological "get out of jail free card" whenever the questions got too hard and difficult. "Mystery" felt like cheating. "Mystery" was a conversation stopper. If you ever faced a theological question you couldn't answer you could wave it away with an appeal to "mystery."
My opinions, though, have changed. I've become more comfortable with mystery. No more allergies. This has largely been due to my exposure to the apophatic theological tradition which traffics pretty heavily in mystery. And while it is true that mystery shows up when our intellects hit a wall, I think there's a pretty clear, particular, and consistent appeal to mystery that seems, to me at least, legitimate.
So, this is a series about mystery, about what it is and where it shows up.
I would start, referencing apophatic spirituality, that mystery is earned. One has to do the work, to strip away, to learn to see one’s entanglements in this world, to confront the gravitational pull of the self, and then, perhaps like Heschel, to see or sense that wonder just off stage, to the side yet present, that weighs and invites.
Or perhaps we can approach that mystery only where, when we shut our mouth.
Looking forward to this!