Living in the Mystery

Florence Howard was a saint of a lady at our church in Monmouth, Oregon. I was a young pastor still wet not just behind the ears. Florence was long term mainstay of our small congregation. She had been treasurer of the church for nearly twenty years and Sunday School treasurer for much longer than that. Florence was a wealth of information about the community, the church and life in general. She lived on a large lot just outside of town. It was a modest home and the property was filled with flowers, shrubs and a large garden of which she regularly shared with the pastor’s family.

Shortly after we met, I heard her share one of her bits of everyday wisdom: “You don’t have to look very far to find someone who’s worse off than you are.” When I heard that I chalked it up to just some tidbit that was, perhaps, false modesty. Over our years at Monmouth, I had many occasions to see Florence in all kinds of settings. That phrase was something often expressed and, more often, exemplified through her attitude. Her's was not an easy life. She had the normal issues that affect someone in their eighties. There were also some family issues that were difficult to deal with. In our last year at Monmouth, Florence contracted cancer which was found to be far advanced. It was in that period of time, when she was undergoing unpleasant treatments aimed at extending her life, that the truth of her phrase was truly lived out. Never did she complain how difficult things were for her. She still looked out at others and wondered how she might serve them. In her need, she looked at others and saw their need.

Suzanne and I were assigned a book to read for our “Most Excellent Adventure.” Moving into a culture different from the one you’re familiar with is stressful, can be difficult and is usually challenging. The book is Cross-Cultural Servanthood by Duane Elmer. I found it to be a great book with challenges in every chapter to “be Jesus” among those we’ve been called to serve. I found one quote that deals with this issue of suffering that made me pause and reflect. Here is the quote:

God is trustworthy even when we can’t see, feel or hear him. He guides us in decisions and promises never to leave us, even when his guidance takes us into the fog, mystery and suffering. He is there in the fog, he is active, and he is fulfilling his glorious purposes. Our role is to trust—even if it takes ten years. . .

Sooner or later, often later, the fog slowly lifts. Things begin to make sense. Understanding replaces confusion. Confidence replaces doubt. Belonging replaces a sense of abandonment. Hope returns. God was there all along, working actively, not only on your behalf but in ways that enrich the many other servants he loves. The fog obscures his presence and his purposes, but when it finally clears, we realize that God has kept all his promises to us (see John 21:45). And on those occasions when his people go to the grave with pieces of their past still shrouded in fog, he remains the loving, faithful God worthy of their trust even though the fog never lifted. While not desired, walking in mystery shouldn’t be feared; God, though not visible or audible, walks by our side, and the walk is always worthwhile for the patient, faithful servant. (pp. 184-185)

Christians living in this world cannot avoid issues that confound the rest of humanity. We are part of this world and one doesn’t have to go very far to see those who live in desperate situations. Whether in Central Asia, the middle of Africa, the slums of Brazil or the streets of the US, we see, hear and feel the lostness and pain that go with being human. We see the afflicted. We hear the cries of the hurting. We are part of the world around us and share, to some extent, its pain.

Why? Why all the heartache? Why all the tragedy? Why evil? It’s possible for the Christian apologist to explain the meaning behind it. It’s possible to make sense intellectually of the pieces that are left of lives that have been shattered. But I don’t believe it’s possible to answer the questions of those in the situations satisfactorily.

Duane Elmer touches on something that is important not to forget: we don’t have all the answers and we may never have all the answers. Life for the Christian (really for everyone) involves the mysterious. But, if we really believe in a God who is transcendent, holy and all the rest of the astounding attributes, why should we ever expect to have all the answers? Why should we expect to figure it all out? Is the God we believe in trustworthy enough that we can leave the answers with him? I don’t mean that we don’t ask, or don’t seek, or don’t knock. I mean that, after we ask, seek and knock and still have no answer, we can still trust that the loving Father has things in control and we can still trust him.

If you ask Suzanne, she’ll tell you that I like having answers. As we look at our future, I want to know now what we’re going to be doing in July, and August, and September and on, and on. Is life a mystery for us? You bet it is. But it’s not as confounding as life for the child who’s father has abandoned him. It’s not as difficult as for the young woman who’s trying to cope with abuse. Or for a cancer patient. Or for any number of other people we come across everyday.

Life, as a Christian or otherwise, is a mystery. However, for the Christian, we have One who understands and knows the answers. One day, perhaps on the other side of the grave, we’ll know the answers as well. In the meantime, we trust the One who is trustworthy.