The Mystery

Control.

Control is something each of us wants and yearns for. It is something we want to have, but not to share or give away. We want to be in control of our own bodies—our health, our looks, our athletic ability, our intelligence, our beliefs. We also seek to control our environment. We often buy things instead of borrowing them because ownership means control. We buy a house to have full control over the place we live, and we buy a car to have control over where we can go. We even try to control the people in our lives—trying to determine what we think they should believe, how we think they should behave, how we think they should live their lives.

Control can go by another name as well: freedom. 

But not real freedom. A sham. A mask. A selfish misunderstanding of what freedom truly is. We seek control in our lives as freedom from others who might control us, but the more control we seek to achieve freedom, the more control we exert over the people around us. In selfishly equating control with personal freedom, we take freedom away from the people we work with, spend time with, and care for. In reality, control has the opposite effect of freedom. The more we seek to control, the more we become chained to our desires. The person who seeks freedom from debt through the control of wealth often ends up chaining themselves to greed. True freedom is found in surrender, not control.

Control is obtained through knowledge.

We have all heard the saying that knowledge is power. Take a tree for example. The more we know about a tree, the more power we have over it. When we know how it grows and what it needs, then we have the power to grow a tree wherever we want to grow it. When we know about the composition of a tree, we can then take the tree and remake it into paper or furniture or wood for a house. In all these aspects, the power we gain over the tree through knowledge allows us to have a sense of control over the tree.

As we trick ourselves into believing that we control ourselves or our environment or others around us, we begin to trick ourselves into believing we can control God. No, we would never outright admit to believing we can control God, but it is evident in our prayers, ministry, and religious observances. Our prayers become very self centered—almost as if God is a genie in a lamp there to grant us our wish of good health, a steady job, and a new car. We disguise these “wishes” as prayers for God’s blessing, believing deep inside that we truly deserve to be blessed because of how good we have been. We minister to others in order to earn more “chips” with God so God will owe us for being good and doing good things. We turn to God when we are in need (or want) and try to pack God away, neatly in a box on a shelf that we can reach when we want to.

We want to be in control, but God cannot be controlled.

A famous legend tells that, while walking along the Mediterranean shoreline meditating on the mystery of the Trinity, Augustine met a child who with a seashell (or a little pail) was trying to pour the whole sea into a small hole dug in the sand. Augustine told him that it was impossible to enclose the immensity of the sea in such a small opening, and the child replied that it was equally impossible to try to understand the infinity of God within the limited confines of the human mind.

God is incomprehensible. (Isaiah 40:12-14)

God is undefinable. (Exodus 3:14)

God is uncontrollable. (Isaiah 45:7-8)

In Christianity, there is a tradition called apophatic theology. This theology is based on the assumption that the essence of God is incomprehensible, and that the human language is inadequate as a means to try to describe God. In short, it recognizes and celebrates the mystery of God. Think about it. We describe God as all powerful, but our own understanding of power is based on our experiences as humans. Human power has restrictions, while God’s power does not. We can say the same about love or grace or knowledge. Our language has limits because we created it.

Try thinking of the concept of God being outside of time, yet involved in time. Think about all of the implications of that statement. If you’re like me, you recognize that there is no way to truly understand what that means. It’s like an ant living in an ant hill 10 feet from a highway. The ant has no concept of what a car or highway is, or even the beginnings of a language to describe it. That is how we are with God. We can trick ourselves into thinking we can understand the mystery of God, but it is a sham that's only purpose is to make us feel better about ourselves.

What about Jesus? As Christians we believe that God revealed Godself through Jesus Christ. This is something I affirm and believe to be true, and the seemingly direct opposition of this statement to the apophatic tradition is why I believe the tradition has fallen mostly out of western Christianity. Jesus is God revealed in the flesh. God is incomprehensible. I believe both statements to be true, and for me that is another aspect of the mystery of God. Just like I can fumble around and try to explain and understand the mystery of the trinity, I can try to explain but never truly understand the dichotomy of God revealed through Christ and an incomprehensible God.

It’s ok to admit “I don’t know.”

There is peace in this understanding of God. A peace that we don’t have to be in control because God is in control. A peace in knowing we can surrender to an infinitely good and loving God who revealed Godself through Jesus Christ. Who loved each and every one of us enough to die for the forgiveness of our sins. Who conquered death because we are too weak to truly live.

This is the God I serve. This is the God I surrender to. This is a God of mystery.