Leading with Limits

My wife and I were invited to a pub where they only served Belgium beers. As the owner came to introduce us to his place and to take our order, my wife shared, “I don’t like beer.” His response was different. “Tell me what you do like.” After a little give and take about her tastes, he disappeared and came back with a small glass of something. “Here taste this.” She said, “Wow! This is great!” And he said, “Now you know what kind of beer you like. So that’s what you order.”

Here... taste this...

          We have a tendency to approach life with fixed categories. We think we know, but most of the time we’re bumping into the edges of our own understanding. Someone should be thinking, “I do not like green eggs and ham, Sam I Am.” And all this should make us think of the mystery of God. Mystery begins when we stop leading with our limits, because the mystery of God is not about God hiding or being unknowable. It’s about us admitting our limits.

          Humility opens up new possibilities. For decades we assumed addiction was a moral failure, but then the government of Portugal tried a different solution. They decriminalized all drugs and assisted addicts in making connections with others, dignity, finding support to create jobs, and taught them how to be part of community. It reduced overdosing 50% and continuation of addiction measurably. The government just had to admit that they didn’t know how to face the problem and be open to new ideas. Mystery opened doors to mercy and growth.

          One of the fascinating things about life was brought forward by Sir Ken Robinson, who in a series of talks on education lifted the understanding that we teach kids to lose creativity. We assumed learning was about control and correct answers. But when children are given space to play and create, they reveal possibilities we never imagined. Creativity flourishes when we stop forcing narrow categories. Mystery opens the door to creativity.

In Advent we see people who hit their limits Joseph understood “There’s only one explanation for pregnancy.” And God said, I have something to teach you. Mary asked, “How can this be?” And God said, You can be part of this without understanding everything. The people of Bethlehem, after hearing the story of the shepherds asked, “What will this child be?” And God said, Watch. Mystery opens the door to trust.

As we sit down to our Advent feast we have the chance to let the flavors arrive. God is the Cook who knows our palate better than we do. The feast is layered, surprising, and meant to be savored. If we rush through Advent, we miss the depth. If we cling to certainty, we taste only the familiar, but if we slow down, we discover what God knows about the flavors we never imagined were in the world and it surprises us.

Mystery is not confusion. Mystery is the open invitation.

Humility, wonder, and a gentle call to come and enjoy is the arriving flavors of God’s work in the meal of Advent. We don’t need to understand everything. We only need to stay open to what God knows. At the Advent table, the mystery is not a problem to solve — it’s a chance to savor the flavor.