“One day as he was teaching the people in the temple and proclaiming the good news, the chief priests and the scribes came with the elders and said to him, ‘Tell us, by what authority are you doing these things? Who is it who gave you this authority?’ He answered them, ‘I will also ask you a question, and you tell me: Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?’ They discussed it with one another, saying, ‘If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say, ‘Why did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ all the people will stone us, for they are convinced that John was a prophet.’ So they answered that they did not know where it came from. Then Jesus said to them, ‘Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.’
-Luke 20:1-8, NRSV
A Slow Illumination
In this scripture from Luke’s Gospel, Jesus leaves us in the dark grasping at mystery. I really appreciate this as an invitation to humility in knowing our place in the order of things. God is all-knowing and we aren’t. I find great comfort in not knowing sometimes. Sometimes I find it hard, of course. In today’s world of instant gratification and the ability to google any question, certainty seems to be at our fingertips at all times.
But there is great spiritual wisdom and freedom in mystery that Christ brings into our awareness during this season of Advent. As I sit next to a fire I’ve made at 4am to settle in for a long morning of smoking the Thanksgiving Day turkey, my dog-son Boulder and I watch and wait for morning to come up over the landscape. That space between night and day is my favorite. And that space is very much like Advent as we wait and watch for the mystery of Christ’s loving action to break through into our lives and our history.
It’s a slow illumination of what’s to come and what could be over the earth. As we watch and wait, we never know what we are really watching or waiting for. Sometimes my brother the owl starts whooing. Sometimes the sister geese start honking and splashing in the pond that backs up to my house. Sometimes cousin coyote sprints across the prairie to find breakfast. Sometimes clouds roll in and it starts to rain. How God breaks into the morning is always magical, mystical and a total mystery. All I know for sure is that morning will happen.
At some point, “the dawn from on high will break upon us.” God’s energy lights up all of creation and we can see more clearly what lays ahead for our day. But the time in waiting and watching is an invaluable gift of stillness that all creation needs to prepare ourselves for what’s to come and to rest in the moment of unknowing.
Because life will be—and is—full of unknowing.
So today friends, take a moment to sit in adoration of Mystery. Hang out in the unknowing. Thank God that we don’t have to know all the time for it is too great a burden to bear. Be thankful for our place in Creation and let us do what we are called to do to care for our land, our people and our planet. Amen.
The Rev. Sarah E. Smith
Curate
St. Paul’s Episcopal Cathedral, OKC