A Good Mystery

I'm not much of a fiction reader, so most of my fiction comes from film and television. Yes, I can concede that this might be a poor man's substitute, but, as I already said recently (see my last post), I like watching TV. Enough with that. My point here is that more specifically a lot of the shows I watch are mysteries or serial dramas, ones that end each episode with a cliffhanger or unresolved story and therefore have the ability, to a greater or lesser degree, to hook you. In the best (or worst??) case scenario such shows might be described as addictive. One example of this would be 24. That this show is potentially addictive is not much of a surprise given that every episode occurs in real time and ends at the end of every hour. This, quite possibly, is both a pro and a con when you have the DVD set and are not watching it from week to week--there is no reason to wait for the next episode; you can watch the next one right away! However, this does lead to the occasional late night . . . So such shows are best reserved for occasions when rising early isn't required the next day! The point is that while I don't read mysteries I do like watching them.

Now when I say mystery, I mean something specific too. Take The X-Files, for instance. Here's a show that counted on its stories being unresolved and on having an overarching mythology that often raised more questions than answers. Such a method of telling stories reflected a key belief on the show, that there are mysteries in life, unfathomable phenomena, that escape the explanatory power of science and reason. To resolve every story and answer every question is tantamount to saying that there are no mysteries inherent in life, that there is nothing beyond what science can tell us.

I think what is attractive about such stories is that we love that there is mystery. It's like the poster on Special Agent Fox Mulder's office wall says, "I want to believe." We want to believe that there is more to life than what we can see with our eyes and touch with our hands. Such possibilities, whether it's the possibility of the existence of extraterrestrial life or the possibility of the existence of God (for me, of course, this is more than a possibility even if it remains a mystery in its own way), promise us meaning and purpose, a way to define ourselves beyond the mundane routines of everyday life. It's no wonder that the producers of The X-Files often liken Mulder's search for proof of alien life to the search for God. Both are mysteries that bring life meaning. So no wonder shows like this become so popular in a world where people long for significance and identity, purpose and direction. Or even just a good mystery.

But, you see, the odd thing about shows like The X-Files, Lost, and others, is that the more questions they answer and the more mysteries they resolve the less satisfying they are. That's when the writing begins to show weak spots. While adept at posing the questions and identifying the mysteries, they are often profoundly inept at providing meaning to the mystery and giving answers to the questions (even if they remain entertaining). Once the mystery gives way to explanation, we often find ourselves profoundly dissatisfied.

So as entertaining and well-produced as any TV show might be, no such show can really provide a person's life with meaning. While they serve as a corporate sponsored reminder that there are mysteries in life, they can no more give us purpose than Dr. Phil can dispense sound, life-changing counsel in short segments between commercial breaks. Though people seek meaning there, even if unconsciously. Hence the large number of fans that absorb and analyse the details of such shows in hopes of cracking the code. It takes more than a good mystery to do that. It takes the best mystery, the only one that truly satisfies. That's the mystery we have in the Bible.

In Ephesians the apostle Paul talks about this mystery and how he had been entrusted to make this mystery plain to everyone: "I became a servant of this gospel by the gift of God's grace given me through the working of his power. Although I am less than the least of all the Lord's people, this grace was given to me: to preach to the Gentiles the boundless riches of Christ, and to make plain to everyone the administration of this mystery, which for ages past was kept hidden in God, who created all things." The apostle here refers to the gospel of Jesus Christ as a mystery. He is saying that until the advent of Christ into the world, the mystery of God's plan was a secret, known only to God himself. He says something similar in Romans. And in Colossians Paul comes right out and says that this mystery is Jesus Christ.

Most people want more than they have. Life doesn't provide automatically a deep, satisfying sense of meaning and purpose. Lots of people wander through life feeling the weight of the world and of the ultimate questions without ever really landing on an answer that quells the thirst and satiates the hunger. This, I think, leads to a sense of loss, but without telling us what it is that we've lost. "My heart is restless, oh God, until it finds rest in You," prays Augustine. We enter this world with a gaping hole in our hearts, one that is, unbeknownst to us, God-shaped. So we try with all our might to fill this hole with any number of things, and usually these things only serve to feed the hunger and increase our thirst. At the very least satisfaction is temporary.

The mystery of God, that there can be wholeness and redemption, fullness of meaning and purpose, has been revealed in Jesus. God's plan in Christ is to disclose his means for saving human beings from their sin and brokenness so that we needn't spend any more time wandering and wondering, lost and directionless, like a ship drifting on the sea. That God-shaped hole in our heart can only be filled by Jesus, for in him the fullness of who God is and what he is up to has been made known.

The big difference between the mystery presented in various TV serial dramas and the mystery of the gospel is that while the presentation of the mysteries in such shows is usually more compelling than any answers they can give, the opposite is true of the good news. We spend our lives consciously or unconsciously looking for answers to life's mysteries, wanting to experience the deep satisfaction that comes when we discover meaning and purpose for ourselves, and it is only when we find our heart's true home, in Jesus himself, that we are satisfied. It's the only mystery that, when revealed, is more compelling than the questions we ask and the attempts at seeking meaning we make. That makes our faith in Christ not just a good mystery, but a great one, the only one worth truly being revealed to us.

My Confession . . .

Despite the name of this blog, not a lot of confessing actually takes place here. In fact, I use the term confessions more in the sense of Augustine's Confessions. Not that I'm comparing my meagre reflections to his profound autobiographical treatise! His is a masterpiece of Western religious thought and philosophy. Mine are, well, lucky to be read by a small number of family and friends. But now I'm getting off topic.

So I have a confession to make. I want to admit to something that I almost feel embarrassed about. It's my dark, dirty little secret. It's one of those personal quirks that I tend to hide in the shadows, away from prying, evaluative, judging eyes. So, please, when you hear it--or, rather, read it--don't think that I have conceded to the moral downslide of our culture and indeed have become a willing participant in it.

Here it is: I like TV.

There it is. There you have it. I haven't completely renounced as subversively evil that dreaded one-eyed monster, that contraption responsible for the bulk of our societal ills, the idiot box, the 20th century invention to end all 20th century inventions, the one that has perhaps shaped our world more than any other: the television.

Why is this a confession, you ask? It's a confession because as a pastor I often hear about people condemning outright anything and everything that is broadcast on television. I hear about the influence TV has on children, young people, and families. I hear church members decry its depiction of moral decay and gratuitous displays of violence and sex. And all the while as I listen to such comments, I think to myself, "You know, there are actually some TV shows I like. And some of them you just might not approve of." So it's a confession insofar as it's something that I don't really say to many people, especially those who know me in my capacity as pastor. Isn't the pastor supposed to be the sort of person who rises above that banal need for mindless and passive entertainment? Apparently not, because I don't.

The odd thing about this, of course, is that while my family and I have a television (a modest widescreen model), we don't actually have television channels. I'm not interested in having either cable TV or a satellite dish, and probably couldn't afford either one of those anyway even if I were. So, you're wondering, without TV channels, how do I watch TV? (Well, if you've gotten this far, you still might not care that much about how I do get to watch TV. Take it as a rhetorical question!) In any case the answer is: TV DVDs.

For the last few years my wife and I have purchased TV DVD boxsets instead of paying for other cable options. We buy shows we want to see, spend less money because we don't have a monthly bill, and pay even less money because sometimes family and friends give them to us as gifts on appropriate holidays. There are pros and cons to doing it this way, but, for right now, the pros outweigh the cons. Still, it's amusing to watch people react when we tell them we have a TV but no TV channels. It's almost the equivalent of what I imagine the reaction would be like if I said to someone that while, yes, the telephone does seem to be a wonderfully useful and convenient piece of technology, we as a family are still rather attached to our carrier pigeon and don't plan, therefore, on upgrading anytime soon.

So isn't this really a silly confession? Well, maybe. It's been awhile since I've posted here and I wanted something to write about! And I find that, strangely, I feel somewhat guilty about enjoying TV. Or I should say some TV. I'm sort of picky in what I choose to watch, especially since I'm (usually) paying for particular TV boxsets (The X-Files, Seinfeld, 24, Fawlty Towers, and a few more). Now as far as whether there's anything redeeming (artistically or spiritually) about anything I watch, that's a topic for another post. It was hard enough owning up to the fact that I actually enjoy watching some TV! For now, time to exit the confessional.