To me, the very least of all the holy ones, this
grace was given,
to preach to the Gentiles the inscrutable riches of Christ,
and to bring to light for all what is the plan of the mystery
hidden from ages past in God who created all things….
to preach to the Gentiles the inscrutable riches of Christ,
and to bring to light for all what is the plan of the mystery
hidden from ages past in God who created all things….
“Whodunit?” The mystery
genre of literature intrigues and entertains the mind. I spent a vacation
reading Agatha Christie novels; our rented cabin had a complete set and given
more time I’d have read the entire collection.
But,
unfortunately, the genre also confuses the meaning of the word, mystery. This
is critical for Christians because Saint Paul uses the word so often. It’s vital
for Catholics in particular because the word could be replaced by sacrament or liturgy. When we worship God with the formal rituals of our church
we plunge like divers into the living mystery of the Father, the Son and the Holy
Spirit.
Mystery is not an
enigma solved by clever insight; it is not satisfied by the answers to a
catechism drill. Mystery is more like a place, perhaps a gothic cathedral with
its high ceiling, vaulted undercroft, vast open space, scent of candles and
incense, and windows casting living colors on floors, walls and people. To enter
this space is to be changed forever, and no one enters unwillingly.
But it’s not a building either. It’s more like someone who
is very old, who knew your great-grandparents when they were newlyweds; and yet
appears to you like an innocent, defenseless child. Mystery is way of life; it’s
a way of living confidently within the timeless Cloud of Unknowing.
Life within this mystery is framed by liturgy, sacraments
and devotions. There are words, gestures, songs and silence. There are ancient
texts, inexplicable traditions and continual adaptations. It is, as Saint
Augustine said, ever ancient, ever new.
This mystery belongs to no one but it claims its members and molds their life,
drawing them out of isolation into communion.
Initiates of the
mystery know they did not choose it and they had little choice upon entering
it. Rather they were drawn by a call; it fell upon them with such delight they
found no reason to refuse; even when it demanded great sacrifice they were
eager for it. They were like the merchant of fine pearls who, finding one
really valuable pearl, sells all he has and buys it. If it appears to be
madness to others, that cannot be helped.
There were many French people who tried to persuade today's martyrs --Saints John de Brébeuf, Isaac Jogues and their companions-- that they were crazy to go off to the wilderness of America to initiate the aboriginals into the Mystery. Nor were they surprised when the news of their death arrived.
Almost five centuries later, their decision is still puzzling, an enigma to the uninitiated. a beautiful mystery to us.
There were many French people who tried to persuade today's martyrs --Saints John de Brébeuf, Isaac Jogues and their companions-- that they were crazy to go off to the wilderness of America to initiate the aboriginals into the Mystery. Nor were they surprised when the news of their death arrived.
Almost five centuries later, their decision is still puzzling, an enigma to the uninitiated. a beautiful mystery to us.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.