When I was young, I used to be afraid of the dark. In the dark, everything was hidden, and you never knew what exactly lurked in those shadows.

I’m sure that the fact that I loved to watch the Creature Feature didn’t help my fear any. The Creature Feature was a late night spot for monster movies. Bella Legosi as Dracula, Lon Cheney as the Wereworlf, and Boris Karloff as Frankenstein. And if that wasn’t enough to instill a sufficient amount of fear into a young boy, this particular one happened to have a very active imagination. Add all of that up, and the darkness became a scary place.

Transformed into a Night Owl

I don’t know whether what happened is the natural state of development or an ironic twist of fate in my life, but somewhere along the line, I have since become a night owl. My mom used to have on the fridge a magnet that said “If you want to soar with the eagles in the morning, you can’t hoot with the owls all night.” I like owls. Eagles?…not so much.

Maybe my interest in the nightlife started with my early fascination with astronomy. When I was young, I had several books on the planets and the universe. When I grew up, I wanted to explore space and learn more about stars, galaxies, black holes. It was great stuff, and I could just get sucked right into it all.

But, in the end, I did not quite go down that path, the path of astronomy, following dreams of chasing the stars. Perhaps some dreams were meant to remain unfulfilled. Such is the stuff of life.

Peering in the Mystery of the Dark

But I still love to look up into the stars at night. It is a special time for me. There is a sense that, at night, although the light of day has receded and I can’t see very clearly what is around me, there is a sense that if I look up at night, I can see deeper into the heavens than is possible during the brightest of days. As I stand under a clear, moonlit sky, peering into the depths of the universe, I feel as though I am participating in the mystery of it all in a very special way.

In the mystery of this universe, there is still a lot to be seen. There are many scientists out there who passionately work to unravel the mystery, and they do know that their ultimate task is impossible, for there will always be more to be revealed. But they are a driven lot.

Apparently, there is now a theory that says that the “void” of space is not really void at all, but filled with what is called “dark matter,” which is a very different type of matter, but a form of matter nonetheless.

It’s a tidbit of info that I picked up while flipping through a science magazine, and it’s an interesting hypothesis, but I can’t help but to ask, “Whether or not the “stuff” of space is a “void” or “dark matter”…does it really matter?”

Well apparently to these scientists it does. This mystery matters enough to them for them to dedicate their lives to engaging that mystery with their whole being. The fact that it matters, draws forth in them a passion that drives them irresistibly into chasing and proclaiming the importance of chasing that mystery.

The Mystery of the Ephesians

From the Letter to the Christians in Ephesus:

With all wisdom and insight [God] has made known to us the mystery of [the divine] will, according to [God’s] good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

In the person and work of Jesus, God has revealed to us the “mystery” of God, and so we call him “Christ.”

In the Presbyterian tradition, we have our theological heritage outlined in The Book of Confessions, which is a series of historical documents. In the Second Helvetic Confession, in reference to ordained clergy, it identifies “ministers of the Church [as] administrators and stewards of the mysteries of God.” What a beautiful job description, “you are called to be a steward of the mysteries of God.” Now when they wrote that text in the mid-16th century, they were talking about clergy administering Word and Sacrament. But when I think about that descriptor in relation to our text in Ephesians, I think there is a sense to which we are all called to be “stewards of the mystery of God.”

Have you ever wondered, “What does it mean to be human?” What does it mean to be human as opposed to, say, an animal? What does it mean to be alive, I mean truly, fully alive, vitally alive to God and to one another? Admittedly, those are really big questions, the kind of questions that sometimes turn people off. The kind that people blow off as just a bunch of philosophical mumbo-jumbo. “What does it mean to be ‘human’?” What does it mean to be fully alive?”

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