The Serenity, Hope, Humility and Joy Of Believing Mystery

I place this before you. You are free to accept it as a mystery or to call it nonsense and dismiss it as meaningless. Choose mystery.

Some thinkers, some good people, and some scientists have accepted the unprovable dogmas of science, (and many who do not actually think but who trust in experts and scientists), hear what is called “mystery,” and reject it as unprovable; and, therefore, deem it nonsense. For some, various corollaries flow from this rejection of mystery; e.g., therefore God does not exist. And often, some then conclude: “Therefore, there is no objective morality and I am free to engage in any action I desire.” For some, feeling guilt is simply an unreasonable response to an irrational belief in nonsensical mystery.

Many people, of the church and of various denominations, say, on a daily or weekly basis (some only at Christmas and Easter), “ I believe in . . .”.   To the adherents of the Religion Of Proof, all that follows this beginning statement is bollocks. But, year after year, generation after generation, century after century, the believers have continued to believe and beliefs, baseless as they are assumed to be, have somehow spread. The enduring existence of the beliefs and of the believers is utterly amazing despite, in some places and times (including today)   intense, vicious, evil, violent, and murderous efforts to eradicate the beliefs by torturing and killing those who profess them.

In the case of so many scientists, etc., who do real science, yet who profess beliefs, why and how can these otherwise sane people do this?  Isn’t it contradictory for those who are scientists or engineers or researchers, or philosophers or thinkers, to persist in saying “I believe in ….”? And, even more inexplicable, how can one who is sane and intelligent, and who previously accepted the “scientific” method as “the way to discover the truth,” at some point change and announce, “Now I believe”?

Ironically, there is no logical or scientific explanation that answers such questions. And still, people believe.

One journey may shed just a glimmer of light on this. A young man, raised a cradle Catholic, attends Catholic schools through college, obtains a degree in physics and math, and, for most of that time, attends daily Mass. He goes to a Catholic seminary twice, for a total of five years, studying to be a missionary priest. He goes to grad school to study medical and radiological physics and, after watching cancer patients die for two semesters, he enrolls in a secular university to study philosophy. He receives two advanced degrees in philosophy, in a program in which it is assumed, and it is put into curricular practice, that no philosophy happened from the time of Aristotle to the time of Descartes (or perhaps Montaigne). There apparently was no philosophy in that historical time period, but for Anselm who stated the logically-erroneous ontological proof for the existence of God. However, the man does not give up his faith. He continues to go to Mass and say, regularly, “ I believe in . . .,” despite the fact that he is now armed with the abilities to debunk and logically gut any reasonable basis for everything he says he still believes.

This does not make sense if “sense” is based on the reasonableness of the Religion Of Proof. All the mysteries are nonsense.

There is more to the story.

The man was never alone. From the time of his first memories, there were people in his daily life who not only said “ I believe,” but who lived according to those beliefs, both in general and in how they treated him.

His mother, also a cradle Catholic, as were her parents, loved him and – every day – laying down her life for him (actually deciding not to attend the Julliard School and to marry his father, a WW II decorated combat veteran). She rejoiced in her decision and loved each of the man’s eight siblings until she went home at age 96.

The man was blest to be in the presence of numerous teachers, brothers, nuns, and priests who cared for him and nourished him in all the schools he attended  – every day routinely and heroically laying down their lives for him and treating him with love, mercy, care, and dignity,  doing this in kleeping with their promises to God, the God in whom they believed, their vows of service, of poverty, chastity, obedience, and perseverance.

His wife: there are not enough words and not enough time to recount the real-world implementation of this woman’s “I believe”  in her actions of limitless love and her passionate service directed to this man’s joy here and salvation in heaven, hopefully, someday.  “I believe in mystery” is no mystery when a woman loves someone the way this woman loved this man. Had he encountered only one other person during his entire life, and had he only been married to her for one day, at the end of that single day he would have said, “I believe.”

Their children: God and this woman gifted this man with seven extraordinary children and fourteen fullofwonder grandchildren. His love for them and their love for him is beyond proof for every mystery the man believes. (Such women have many, many names, e.g., the name of any woman who has loved a man and her children and grandchildren with her whole heart, e.g., to pick one at random, Karen).

Friends: The man cannot count all of those, many of whom are also in other categories above, who have been his friends, and have said throughout their lives, “I believe.”   In being for the man the “sturdy shelter” of Ecclesiasticus 6:14, they have shown him that mystery makes perfect sense.

Jesus has never appeared to this man in the flesh and the man has not put his hand into the wound in the side of Jesus, but his own oft-repeated “I believe” echoes that of those who loved him.

The story of the man above is not an isolated, unusual story. This is the story of everyone who is blest to live with loving folks, family, and friends who  – in the sense of living for others –  really mean it when they say “I believe”.  These are the people of mystery who embrace: “Faith is the proof of things not seen” (Heb 11:1).

In the end, we choose mystery the way some Samaritans did:

Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I ever did.”  So when the Samaritans came to him, they urged him to stay with them, and he stayed two days.  And because of his words many more became believers. They said to the woman, “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world (John 4:39-42).

In hearing those in our lives who said “I believe,” and who have loved us, “we have heard for ourselves,” we have heard Jesus.

(previous version at site Catholic Stand)