a marvelous mystery
* * *
There is a mystery that you thought was a mask at first. Surely there was a secret to all the smiles, to that shiny surface stretching skin on bone. Surely the superficial nature of the exterior was a hint at a deeper truth.
You would have to dig into this mystery
Discover the golden nuggets of reality
Against the shards of humanity’s insanity
the l i e s
There has to be a distortion to this mystery, a fold in the flatly lain skin, bare on bone for all to see and read. Yet not all could truly see and read because not all understood this mystery and what it might mean. There were few who could perceive and few who believed.
The mystery was a maze, a trap in the eye for some, and treasure in the eye for others.
This maze was treated like a game by many. Some were more concerned for the turns, the race against time. They would strive and strive, caring only for their own strides. Others were afraid of trying, so they would get lost, and die.
Ah, this maze of life, the mystery of why.
For others the maze was not a game, it was a story. They would stop to look at the sky, taking their time around each corner, a slow pace. There they saw each development, stabalising their identity. They would not strive or die, they would simply live with an inner fire, led by eternal desire. The temporary turns, the matter of time, was not a care for this kind.
See, the mystery? How to navigate eternity?
There was one other with the flame of eternal desire. The maze maker.
Those in the story sought directions from the maze maker. For they knew the mystery of the maze, the reason it was made. Those who moved slow knew where to go. They approached the mystery not for a whim of myth or magic, but for a wellspring of meaning.
Those who pursued the eternal desire would receive an inner fire. A flame fuelled by true intimacy with the maker. Those burning knew smoke was not the enemy, for it released – freed! – the radiant furnace that gave meaning to the mystery.
The mystery as to who can blaze through the maze unscathed?
The mystery as to why those who float through the maze find greater weight?
Those deceived into the tricks and rules of the game would get flustered and lost, but there is always hope. The storytellers see, they believe in the bigger story of the mystery. So long as the storytellers share their identity, there is hope for humanity.
The maze maker holds hope in his heart.
That others will receive, believe.
The marvellous mystery.
See Colossians:
“… the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed” (1:26)
“… the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory” (1:27)
“… God’s mystery, which is Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (2:2-3)
