Thirty years ago, I saw mystery as a country to be vanquished. Today, I see mystery as a place in which to dwell.

If I wanted someone to blame for my early animosity to mystery, there are probably two culprits: fundamentalism and philosophy. I came to the Christian faith, from an unchurched background, by way of a fundamentalism that, now looking back, I see primarily as a religious form of mastery and control — not only of people, but of God. Of course, this community was confident in their knowledge of God because they believed they alone accepted the authority of the Scriptures. But that’s precisely where I now see such a sad irony: how strange to be proud of receiving a revelation, and how sad to reduce the Bible to a storehouse of facts to be mastered and, ultimately, wielded . How small the God contained therein. We sometimes think of fundamentalism as a radical devotion to God, but in most cases — and certainly in my experience — the sociology is very different: Fundamentalism is a means of trying to control the world by having (a certain) God on your side. If you’re after control, you need a God who is predictable, not mysterious.

Mockingbird • Notes From the Cosmic Sea