Mystery of the Ages

There are some people in this world who are an open book. Despite my affinity for reading, I am not one of them. As old roommate (whom I miss dearly) once quipped, I am “full of mystery and intrigue.” Being self-revelatory isn’t my strong suit; being vulnerable even less so. And yet I never considered myself someone who was close-mouthed until I had it pointed out to me repeatedly about a year ago. I think its because I’m so commonplace and uninteresting that I assume people feel like they know me. As with so many things in life, I was wrong.

Recently, I heard the Church called the “mystery of the ages.” To be fair, I merely jotted down the reference and now can not remember the context it was uttered in. So it could be that its from a famous quotation and I’m hopelessly pillaging another’s idea. (A good researcher would Google that – but I’m not at work, so its not my responsibility.:-) ) I thought the description was apt. As someone who’s been questioned regarding their commitment to church, I find it hard to explain why I am so regularly participate in corporate worship. It’s especially hard to convey to people who are familiar with attending church but have never been a part of the Church. All they see is the social benefits and the warm fuzzies that they receive, which like all good feelings are bound to dissipate when strife enters in. For me, the warm fuzzies and the social benefits are secondary. There is something mysterious that happens when hearts turned to God jointly proclaim Who He is. There is something unexplainable about the fact that the Church has lasted despite its missteps and misdeeds. The wonder of the Church can’t be captured in a thirty-minute “how to” on life (what many sermons have succumbed to in recent years) because the mystery of the Church with a capital C isn’t contained in any four walls, its found in the hearts that are inexplicably joined as members of Christ’s family and in the majesty of coming before the throne as one.

I may never be able to adequately explain it. But, as with so many things that are beautiful, I don’t need to in order to appreciate it.

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Blind Sight

One of the crazy things about language is that often times common phrases, when considering arduously, don’t make sense. For example – “jumbo shrimp.” How can something that’s quantified by its smallness, become big? Or, as one of my friends would say “true love.” Can it really be love if its not true? Isn’t therefore the phrase redundant?

One of the crazy things about God is that He also sometimes doesn’t make sense. At least not to us. Whether its because His are so high or are ways are so small (Isaiah 55:9), He has an amazing way of extracting the least-considered consequences. He just as a knack for causing things to turn out different than one would expect.

Paul’s life is a prime example of this. Before he had his heavenly name change, Saul was the persecutor of the church. He had studied the Law and knew what it taught, and sought to merit out its justice. On the road to Damascus he was struck by blindness and it was only then that he could truly see. Stopped in the road, he found the Way.

Oftentimes in life things don’t go the way I think they should. I’m glad that God is the type who doesn’t always require that things make (human) sense.

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