Curiosity killed the cat... and the Christian.
Mystery. Out of all the possible words I would associate this concept with, not in a million years I’d thought of using it to describe my faith.
Growing up in a Christian environment I always thought faith (and God) was the opposite of a mystery. To me, that word described all things unknowable, in turn the feeling linked with it was fright. But there is nothing to fear when it comes to our faith, right?
In fact, I thought, maturing in our faith meant letting go of that mystery and embracing certainty, assurance, and understanding by means of studying and learning the Scriptures. God had been a mystery before, but not anymore! Faith, it seemed, was the end of curiosity.
Or was it?
The truth proved to be the opposite. The more I learned about God, the Bible, faith and the Christian life, the more I felt that I was being invited into something vaster than I had ever imagined. My interest kept growing. Faith, instead of filling the gaps, made me realize those gaps were deeper and wider. And I was left with more questions than answers.
The more I studied key concepts such as salvation, sin, justice, holiness, eternity, hope, love, God, every time I’d engage in conversations about their meaning and purpose with others, the more I would find myself feeling unable to fully grasp what they meant. It felt like I was only scratching the surface of a much deeper reality.
I was curious. Very curious and, just like with the cat, it was killing me.
I went looking for answers to the right place, but with an incorrect approach. I would read and treat my Bible like I did Wikipedia. I even expected the same results: to be given basic, clear, concise information about everything. Like an instruction manual from Ikea I expected my Bible to just explain how to put my faith, God, and the world together in neat cubicles and compartments, so everything would look clean, organized and as sophisticated as a Nordic living space. But it didn’t.
Let me clarify that I believe the Bible is inspired (with all the mystery this word entails) by God, trustworthy, reliable and useful; it points to Jesus and it is instrumental for our transformation. I love the Bible. But if we’re honest, we’ll find that our frustrations with it come not from the book itself, but from an incorrect methodology. It may contain instructions, and can guide us to the truth, but it’s not as simple as quoting a verse to completely define a concept or to say everything there is to say about it.
In furthering my horizons on the matter, I came across the book, The Bible Tells Me So, by Peter Enns. He describes this rulebook view of the Bible as “a knockoff Chanel handbag - fine as long as it’s kept a distance, away from curious and probing eyes.”
Growing up in a Christian environment I always thought faith (and God) was the opposite of a mystery. To me, that word described all things unknowable, in turn the feeling linked with it was fright. But there is nothing to fear when it comes to our faith, right?
In fact, I thought, maturing in our faith meant letting go of that mystery and embracing certainty, assurance, and understanding by means of studying and learning the Scriptures. God had been a mystery before, but not anymore! Faith, it seemed, was the end of curiosity.
Or was it?
The truth proved to be the opposite. The more I learned about God, the Bible, faith and the Christian life, the more I felt that I was being invited into something vaster than I had ever imagined. My interest kept growing. Faith, instead of filling the gaps, made me realize those gaps were deeper and wider. And I was left with more questions than answers.
The more I studied key concepts such as salvation, sin, justice, holiness, eternity, hope, love, God, every time I’d engage in conversations about their meaning and purpose with others, the more I would find myself feeling unable to fully grasp what they meant. It felt like I was only scratching the surface of a much deeper reality.
I was curious. Very curious and, just like with the cat, it was killing me.
I went looking for answers to the right place, but with an incorrect approach. I would read and treat my Bible like I did Wikipedia. I even expected the same results: to be given basic, clear, concise information about everything. Like an instruction manual from Ikea I expected my Bible to just explain how to put my faith, God, and the world together in neat cubicles and compartments, so everything would look clean, organized and as sophisticated as a Nordic living space. But it didn’t.
Let me clarify that I believe the Bible is inspired (with all the mystery this word entails) by God, trustworthy, reliable and useful; it points to Jesus and it is instrumental for our transformation. I love the Bible. But if we’re honest, we’ll find that our frustrations with it come not from the book itself, but from an incorrect methodology. It may contain instructions, and can guide us to the truth, but it’s not as simple as quoting a verse to completely define a concept or to say everything there is to say about it.
In furthering my horizons on the matter, I came across the book, The Bible Tells Me So, by Peter Enns. He describes this rulebook view of the Bible as “a knockoff Chanel handbag - fine as long as it’s kept a distance, away from curious and probing eyes.”
Curiosity here sounds threatening, dangerous even. Not only to felines, but apparently to us.
In my case, it proved to be in fact fatal. Curiosity was not killing me; it was more as if it was killing things in me. The more I gave into it, the more I searched and ventured into the unknown, the more it massacred assumptions, prejudices and preconceived notions. It wasn’t killing my faith. On the contrary, it was saving it by destroying the knockoff version.
And then I understood something that gave me great freedom. Curiosity is a big part of the journey of faith. It is both an invitation and a way in. It gives us what we need to keep going forward. To draw near, to come closer to God. It’s about believing and trusting and constant discovery.
A life of faith is one that embraces mystery. Not because God is unknowable, Richard Rohr says, but rather because God is infinitely knowable. So, when we talk about faith, there should be no "end of discussion".
On August 10, 1905, The Galveston Daily News newspaper printed an ad for a grocery store using the well-known saying, “Curiosity killed the cat”, to which they added, “but satisfaction brought it back.”
Although the first part alerts about the dangers of exploration, this brilliant addition points to the fact that the risk is worth it. The satisfaction of engaging in this mysterious faith with this mysterious amazing God, will ultimately lead to resurrection.
The mystery of faith is my humble proposal of a blog that looks to discuss faith related topics, realizing that we never get the full picture or solve the puzzle, but we are invited to the dance, to question, to struggle. Like Jacob, we may come out limping. And like the cat, somethings might die. But we will see God and receive his blessing. We will be brought back.
And that, my friend, makes it all worth it.
Comments
Post a Comment