Learning to appreciate mystery

When the term ‘transubstantiation’ was coined, the church framed it in philosophical categories.  Thus, an essential transformation takes place to change the essence (what a thing is) while the accidents (what a thing appears to be) remain unchanged.  The substance, what literally ‘stands under’ the appearance becomes the body and blood of Christ.

The term had become de rigueur in religious parlance from then, and it has led many priests and seminarians to simply rely on the usage of that word to say that something extraordinary happens at the consecration.  The reliance on the use of a coined phrase somehow relieves the human mind of any further need to ponder on the reality of what one is confronted with, and it can be a double-edged sword.  On the one hand, it leaves the ‘nuts and bolts’ to God, and engenders the priest to be aware that it is not he who is doing anything great.  It humbles one greatly.

On the other hand, it could lead one to a case of being somewhat jaded because it is mystery that one is not meant to understand but instead, to behold in awe.  Beholding is not something that comes automatically to the average human person whose patience and tolerance for a gentle unfolding is becoming shorter and shorter as the centuries go by.  One needs a certain innocence to know how to behold and a certain willingness to be awestruck.  One needs a certain docility in order to be led.  But the average person living in this day and age is one that resists being led and formed, but instead wants to lead and form, and to chart one’s own course in life.

Actually, this ‘problem’ is not new.  Even when the phrase ‘transubstantiation’ was applied, questions were asked about when exactly did the transubstantiation take place.  Was it when the phrase was uttered?  Or was it the placement of the consecrated hands of the priest over the gifts?  However, the more important question to be asked to these questioners, which I am not sure if they were asked or not, was “why is there a need to know”? 

What we do with knowledge somehow reveals our inner disposition.  By knowing this, can we can pin it down to the exact moment of the exact word and the precise moment of the specific liturgical hand action that ‘nails’ down the transubstantiation moment, would we be better disciples of Christ and fellow transformers of the world and people who are willing to live the values of the Kingdom of God in the world?  I'm not sure.

Or is this information going to allow us to ‘switch off’ and do our own ‘stuff’ till the important moment comes, so that we will then suddenly sit up and pay attention?  In those days, it would have meant stopping our fingering of our rosary beads, or in our current-day situation, to put our phones down and stop checking on our Facebook accounts on our iPhones because ‘God’ is happening now.

When we live separated and compartmentalized lives in our spirituality, we are only tuned in to God when we think we should be.  We dictate when we ‘allow’ God to come into and ‘disturb’ our lives.  Indeed, too much detailed knowledge about God and how he works, can ruin our ability to be awed by God.

I have been asked by so many Catholics – when is the cut-off moment when it is considered that one has actually missed Mass?  Is it at the start of the first reading, or the end of it?  Or is it at the start of the proclamation of the Gospel? 

These kinds of questions are considered reductionist in nature, because it reduces very much our ability to behold in its entirety what God really wants to offer us in life. 

When we find ourselves unable to appreciate mystery, unwilling to ponder anew or are irritable with any form of waiting and contemplation, we do our spiritual lives more harm than good.  Pithy, trite and short answers to the ‘why’s’ of life do not form the heart of a person to make one wise.  No one goes through any book that has the phrase ‘for dummies’ on the cover ever has a comprehensive and wide understanding of anything that requires discipline and sedulous patience, serious reading that leads to an unfolding of something that is rich and deep.  Yet, we do seem to want quick fixes for tough mysteries. 

I have realized in my years as a confessor that it is the people who are willing to really sit and talk about their lives rather than just listing out their sins that are the ones who are most able to experience transformation.  It doesn’t mean that those who opt to just list the sins do not receive God’s forgiveness.  They both do, without a doubt.  But there is something to be said about the willingness of a soul to want to really address an issue that keeps one from living a life of grace that helps one to experience a deep conversion. 

So, I keep reminding myself - 40 days of Lent may be a bit long and arduous, but experiences that are rushed through are hardly transformative. Thank God that there is no "Lent for dummies".