There are things
about the Catholic faith that are hard to believe. There are some teachings of
Catholicism that I don’t want to
believe. There are doctrines that are difficult to rationalize. And what is
(seemingly) worse is that some of these dogmas the Church Herself has formally
declared to be mysteries. For many
people this is a hard teaching. We are put off by the idea of a ‘mystery.’ In
our vanity, we don’t like to be told that we can’t know. For hyper rationalists
and skeptics this can lead to frustration, even despair. For the devout atheist
this is the cause of much smug condescension.
But what about
the rest of us? What about the committed Catholics, who aren’t afraid to open
our minds to difficult matters of faith? We have all heard empty platitudes
such as, “That’s for God to know, and for us to find out!” or “You’ve just
gotta have faith!” As much as I can appreciate that stalwart certitude, it is
cold comfort to many of us. So how do we approach the dogmas that are defined
as mysteries?
I’ll begin with
a story.
When I was a kid
Star Wars was to me what the wall is to Donald Trump. I obsessed over it; I
talked endlessly about it to anyone who would listen. I needed more and more
Star Wars merchandise, and I was convinced that I could force Mexico to pay for
it… oops, I got my analogies crossed there; but I digress. The point
is, I loved Star Wars.
When I was about
twelve years old Star Wars released a computer game titled Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy. I wanted that game for an agonizingly
long time, but my parents had a strict rule and wouldn’t buy us anything unless
it was for Christmas or our birthday. I was forced to wait while saving up the
money myself. When I finally purchased the game, it was everything I had hoped
for. I spent every free minute of every day battling the Evil Galactic Empire
and saving the galaxy from the Sith. To this day there has never been another
video game that I spent that much time playing.
As much as I
loved Jedi Academy, however, the day
inevitably came when I was bored with it. I had seen and done everything there
was to do. I had beaten all the levels and tried out all the different light
sabers; the game no longer held any wonder for me.
The human mind
is made to learn; we literally hunger for new information to consume. It naturally
follows then that once we know something fully we move on from it to our next
fascination. Just like my 12-year-old self and the computer game, we abandon
things as soon as the mystery is gone. This is not only true for video games
but also for movies, books, new phones, gadgets, and so on.
What if we could
add God to that list? That is after all, what modern skeptics demand. What if
we were able to fully understand and quantify the essence of the Divine? The
reality of our biological design answers that question for us: If we could fully understand the mysteries
of our faith in this life, then we would cease to pursue them.
The good news
for us is that God knows us better than we know ourselves, and why shouldn’t
he? He made us, after all. We are perfectly designed to engage in the divine
mysteries. It gives us something that we can pursue without exhausting, an
intellectual stimulant that knows no bounds. That pursuit is the essence of the spiritual life. That relentless search
for the True, the Good and the Beautiful is what constitutes the life of the
Christian. Praying, studying and meditating upon the great Christian mysteries extends
to us a never-ending invitation to move perpetually closer to Christ. To lose
that is to lose everything.
When we are confronted
with mystery we shouldn’t view it as a barricade. Only a closed mind would turn
and walk away. It is not a barrier. Too many people think of mystery as an
immense ocean separating us from Truth - separating us from Christ. But the
ocean itself is Truth - the living
water. Christ stands before us, offering us a straw, and commanding us to drink
from the well that will never run dry. Thank God for mysteries.