Oh mystery, you are alive, I feel you all around...

They used to say of Pambo that in the hour of his death he said to the holy men standing round, 'From the time that I came into this solitude, and built my cell and lived in it, I do not remember having eaten anything I have not worked for. I have not said anything that I regretted saying. But I still go to the Lord, as one who has not yet made a beginning in the service of God.'

--The Desert Fathers

I have a confession to make.

I don't understand any of this.

This "God" thing.

Sorry. I know I have this blog where I write a lot about God and when you publish something, even just on the internet, you're projecting the idea that you know something about what you're writing about.

I don't. I'm sorry.

It's not for lack of trying. I mean, my degree isn't in religious studies, I haven't gone to seminary (...yet...), but check out my bookshelf and it's religion religion religion. Writings of saints and theologians and mystical poets. Bible commentaries. The Dead Sea Scrolls, Gnostic writings. Holy books from various different religions, not just Christianity. Things about the spiritual in art. Allegorical novels. I was born and raised in the church. In third grade, my Sunday school teacher said that I should just teach the class, I knew it all, even got the significance as much as I could at that age. And I have taught a bit. I was both baptised when I was older, as my own choice, and confirmed. I went through a period of agnosticism which made me critically look at all my beliefs, and make lots of choices when it came to rebuilding my faith. I've worked for two summers operating sound for conferences, hearing speaker after speaker after speaker on all kinds of theological, religious, and social issues. I've tried pretty hard, and as such I have a pretty good understanding of religion.

But this thing called "God"?

I have NO CLUE what I'm talking about.

I watched a documentary about Chartres Cathedral yesterday while wrapping presents. People will often talk about the mystery of that cathedral, how it is the code for some ancient knowledge, and they'll do all they can to figure it out, understand how it was made, analyze it's geometry. And I'll watch this and think, "Yes! I want to spend the rest of my life trying to unlock the mysteries of Chartres" (hello obsessive personality) "because something about God is hidden there!" But even if I dropped everything now and became the foremost scholar of Chartres, I'd never reach that understanding.

It's a mystery.

God.

The world.

All of it.

And for as much as we figure out, we discover so much more that we don't know.

And I, for one, find this endlessly frustrating. I like learning things, I like knowing things, I like understanding things. I'm a good student. I like the sense of accomplishment you get from it. There are so many things I don't understand. The significance is huge and I get it on one level, but on others... I'm blind. I need more senses to get it.

It's something about:

The Virgin Mary

The Crucifixion

The moment in the temple when Jesus was young

The people who came up to Mary when Jesus was a baby proclaiming he was the Messiah

Prophecy

Destiny

Choice

Unity

Infinity

Eternity

Geometry

Water

Color

Art

Sex

Fire

The fact that two thieves were crucified next to Christ

Carols

Intimacy

Zoroastrianism

Need

Connection

Praise

Glory

The Cosmos

Genetics

Cathedrals

Collaboration

Omniscience

Omnipotence

Omnipresence

The Sun

Mangers

The Spirit

Sound

Word

Remembrance

Nyame

The Wind

Myth

Communion

Original Sin

Forgiveness

Synaesthesia

Suffering

Order

Death

Resurrection

God from God, Light from Light

The Beloved

Love

Love

Love

Love

Love

You.

It's huge, it's obvious, it's right in front of me in every moment. In a moment of extreme frustration about all of this I'm not seeing I sent an email to one of my mentors saying, "God's been trying to tell me something about this my ENTIRE LIFE and I'm DAFT and want to slam my head repeatedly into a wall. God's trying to tell me something that's WIRED INTO MY BRAIN AND I'M STILL NOT GETTING IT." Maddening. I've lost sleep over things like this.

And yet...

There are days like today, days like Christmas, where we remember and celebrate the mystery. A birth. A promise. A hope. A beautiful story. I was sitting in church last night (the brief amount of the service where I actually sat) thinking about trying to explain all of this to people who are not religious and I was struck, again, about how I really know nothing. Because at the heart of all of it is a mystery. At the heart of all creation is a mystery. And instead of being discouraging, even instead of being frustrating, the fact that I, really none of us, will never understand became beautiful. Freeing. Even comforting.

Because... it leaves us free to wonder.

to marvel.

to be amazed.

to explore... with the recklessness and curiosity of children. All our lives.

But also because... somehow... you don't need to understand something to be able to act upon it.

Do I know how this is? Nope. Not a clue. I just know that it's true. I feel like Scrooge at the end of A Christmas Carol. 'I don't know what day of the month it is.' said Scrooge. 'I don't know how long I've been among the Spirits. I don't know anything. I'm quite a baby. Never mind. I don't care. I'd rather be a baby. Hallo!'

In great art there is no beginning and end in point of time. All time is comprehended.

--The Art Spirit

In my copy of The Art Spirit, this quote is underlined, boxed several times, and the word "WHAT" is written underneath in giant letters. I ran into this quote recently and flipped, because I know this is something key to the mystery. All time comprehended IS eternity.

I wish I could explain more than that. All we have are hints. Millions in every second.

Oh Mystery, you are alive, I feel you all around.

You are the fire in my heart.

You are the holy sound.

You are all of life. It is to you I sing.

Oh, grant that I may feel you, always in everything.

--"Mystery", Paul Winter, Missa Gaia

I am extraordinarily tired.

I would like to simultaneously talk to you about God for hours, and sit not saying anything for a very long time.

Light another candle. Burn some incense. Pray. The life's work is figuring all this out, and it will never be complete. Thanks be to God for that. Maybe it's actually the work of all humanity, and we have to get over the idea that we'll figure it all out in our lives. It's building a cathedral. You give your life over to a product you may never see, but you still know is worth it.

Merry Christmas.