The Mystery Box

I just watched this TED talk by film maker J.J. Abrams:

The mystery box
http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/j_j_abrams_mystery_box.html

He has a "mystery box" that he bought for $15 at a magic store when he was a kid. He has never opened it. Somehow he resisted that urge and it helps to fuel his creativity, because he realizes that, sometimes, mystery is more important than knowledge. He asks, "What's a greater mystery box than a theater?"

I think I can answer that question.

I recall a time when Kathleen and I visited Sojourners in Washington, D.C. They happened to have a communion service scheduled for that Sunday, and we participated. I cannot put my finger on how it happened, but the sense of mystery was palpable. Still, many years later, I have clear memories of the impact, the way the room almost seemed to be buzzing with power, though it was one of the quietest, most peaceful times I have ever experienced.

Just now, I'm reading Brian McLaren's book, The Secret Message of Jesus: Uncovering the Truth That Could Change Everything.

Brian makes the very interesting point that Jesus almost never explained anything. He taught in parables. Clearly, he could have explained things, but he chose not to. Brian thinks that's probably because you can't tell Jesus' message if you do it in the clear. You must lay it between the lines. It's that sort of message. It's a mystery. You can know some of it, but you can never know all of it. As soon as you develop a consistent theology that explains it all, you've killed it, you have missed the point of it all.

I think that, what has been called "the greatest story ever told" (hmmm..., wasn't there a movie by that title?) is a pretty great mystery. And where are people supposed to encounter that mystery? In church.

No, I don't mean in the pews of a church building -- though it can happen there. I mean that the church, the body of Christ, is called to be the delivery mechanism for this great mystery. We are not called to explain it. We are called to proclaim it. The church is the greatest mystery box there has ever been.

That is, it's supposed to be. It can be, if we'll let it.

But we need to reevaluate what it means to be a church. A church that operates primarily as a "bless me club" can never be much of a mystery box. A church that claims to have all the answers is certainly no mystery box. A church that never reaches out to others, to meet them at their point of need can never proclaim a mystery, except to their own members. And a church that's just a "pastor and choir show" suppresses the operation of this mystery in the relationships between all of the members.