room for mystery

The Lord has been whispering to me, which is a funny thing to say. On the one hand, I feel like He's not close enough to whisper. But this is only from my perspective. Indeed, he must be close enough for me to type what he's been whispering.

He's been whispering something along these lines:

"Can your eyes see, your mind allow, and your heart accept my mysteries?"

His mysteries. Here's how he has been whispering them to me:

Jesus' kingdom message is itself an embrace of mystery. Jesus proclaims to us: my Father's rule is mythically and supernaturally breaking into this world right now through Me, your Curse-Bearer.

He goes on to illustrate this new kingdom reality with more mystery. Jesus says his Father's kingdom is like a seed that is scattered on the ground, remains untended by human hands, and yet grows from the earth all by itself. He goes on to say that this kingdom is like a tiny "pine nut" growing into a massive pine tree (the Message's rendering of Jesus' mustard seed parable).

Stop for a second. When you read that last paragraph, did you think: "Well, perhaps the original readers of those accounts of Jesus simply didn't know how a seed grows." Or, "Actually, a pine nut contains all of the necessary DNA coding to grow a pine tree to its maturity."

Now, without traveling down some sort of long and uncalled-for defense of the intellect of Jesus' contemporaries, suffice it to say they knew enough about how seeds grow to know that if it did not get planted in properly tilled soil, receive adequate water, and protected from the sun and weeds that chances are, it was not going to grow--as any green thumb can readily attest to. And when a seed did manage to grow up into a plant without any sort of human intervention, well, that was so unlikely that it was indeed mysterious.

To look at a vast forest of pine trees, and know that no one planted them. To see a a sapling at the base of a great tree, and to know that it sprouted because a nut dropped from one of the branches. No hole was dug. No food was added. But roots found their way in, and lo and behold, it is on its way to taking its place in the canopy.

It inspires mystery. Awe. Wonder. Even amazement. Mouths dropped at something so unlikely.

Like a God who knows and sees the depths of our (most often hidden) evil and devises an elaborate plan, not for our eradication, but for our redemption.

Stop and let him grow his mystery up in you. Let this great mystery overwhelm your doubt, your shame, your guilt, your fear, your pain, your anxiety. Let your mouth open, your heart well up, and your eyes shed tears at a God who loves so mysteriously.

bigger

"You have to keep in mind the big picture."

"Don't miss the forest for the trees."

What exactly is the big picture?

What's the biggest picture?

I'd guess that it's redemption. God redeems broken humanity in a broken world. When it comes to a mission or a vision, what could possibly eclipse God's redemption?

And yet.

And yet, every day I find myself getting sucked down undercurrents, enticed off of the way, compelled to take a side in some battle masquerading as the war itself.

This person felt mistreated. That person felt mismanaged. This person feels like they were given the runaround. That person feels like another is getting more than they deserve. This person feels like they're not getting as much as they deserve.

And each "situation" balloons up, appearing to be about one hundred times more significant than it really is... or, more accurately perhaps, than as it should be.

And yet.

And yet, there are some real mistakes being made, and some real injustices being permitted. It's not right. It's not fair. It's irresponsible to ignore. It's lazy not to take a side.

And yet.

And yet, we're all on the same side. Not in terms of peformance, or of decision-making, or of preference, or of gifting, or of perception, or of opinion, or of philosophy, or of conviction. No, all of those things differ, sometimes radically, from person to person. My conviction seems to imply that yours is all wrong. Your perception seems to imply that mine is at its best misinformed. You might be right; I might be wrong. No, we are indeed not at all on the same side when it comes to matters that are subjective, even if we ascribe to (differing) objective standards.

We are, however, on the same side when it comes to spirituality. No, not subjective spirituality, like your preference in preaching styles or subjects, your tastes in music, or whether you prefer Sunday school or small groups. In fact, the further we are polarized on such matters, the more content we are with ourselves that our particular preference is the "right one." Which brings me back to the first sentence of this particular paragraph.

We are on the same side when it comes to objective spirituality. Objective spirituality. Who you are objectively as a spiritual being. Who I am objectively as a spiritual being. You are the same as me, I as you, and you and me as anyone else. You, me, and everyone else who has ever walked anywhere on this earth. An American, a Roman, an Israelite, a son of Eden. We all have been, we all are, and we all will forever be objectively--absolutely, regardless of our particular circumstances or experiences or whatever--dead without Jesus, and redeemed in him.

The big(gest) picture is redemption in Jesus. The biggest picture is not who the next staff person should be, or which philosophy should win out, or where the damned music is heading. Now, to be fair and realistic, those types of things rise in their importance relative to the local church. But not everything is relative to the local church. The local church is not simply local; she is a part of the universal church, and should first gather her identity from her solidarity with all of humanity at all times. Humans are dead and dying without Jesus. And humans are redeemed to life and freedom with Jesus.

What might our normal, everyday transactions look like if we kept before our hearts and minds this big picture? What if we dedicated as much of our ministry effort toward keeping the big picture before our eyes every day as we do on everything else? Perhaps it wouldn't "solve" everything else, because to be sure, differences exist, and a direction will have to be established in spite of them. Nevertheless: I wonder how much of our squabbling comes about as a result not of our differences, but of our myopia.

May our vision never be reduced to something that is lesser than redemption, O Lord.