The mystery ahead

 

Will it be worth the climb?

A good hike, like a good narrative or speech, should start with something to pique one’s interest: a mystery, a challenge, or an intriguing question.  My hike today in yet another state park, begins with this enigmatic symbol. The map identifies it only as a “Point of Interest.”

What could it be? The trail leading to it, says the map’s key, is rated “difficult.” But now I’m curious. I need to know, despite the effort it will take.

As I climb, I consider that faith also is driven by a “point of interest” mystery. John puts it well in 1 John 3:2 –

“My dear friends, we are now God's children, but it is not yet clear what we shall become. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he really is.”

We know and yet we don’t. We will be like Jesus, but in what way? We are headed toward a destination that compels us, but even “the disciple that Jesus loved” couldn’t clearly articulate what that end point looked like.

He does tell us two things: we shall be like him and we shall see him as he really is. Those seem to be bound together. His unveiling is the cause of our transformation. Somehow, the abundance of his glory and character will overflow into us at that moment of revealing.

There’s motivation for you!

After my ascent, I start to look for this puzzling site. I quickly come across another mystery – a mini-excavator far from civilization! (It’s rare to see a Bobcat in the wild, you know.) The many questions this raises are unrelated to my goal, so I move on.

Getting closer to the target, I see unusual markings on a tree, so I veer off the trail and discover a rock, lit as if with a spotlight like some long-sought Indiana Jones treasure. But again, it’s simply a distraction.

Finally, just at the point where the map indicates an intersection of trails, I glimpse something odd through the trees. What on earth is that?

The Point of Interest is remarkable! It’s a huge, square, concrete hole in the ground. Perhaps twelve feet deep. Trees grow inside it. Rusting posts around the top hint that it was once guarded by barbed wire.

It seems to be a kind of disused holding tank. I secretly hope it once imprisoned a fiendish scientific experiment, like a giant Shenandoah octopus. But more likely it just trapped water, now long gone.

What a contrast to the abundance in John’s vision of our destination. In that coming day, Christ’s life will flow into us like the “streams that make glad the city of God.” (Ps. 46:4) Like the rivers that flowed out of Eden. Like the river flowing from God’s throne in Revelation 22.

How will our future state make us able to handle so much blessing?

Just like another odd icon on the park map, that’s a mystery for another day.

Lord, draw us forward on our climb of faith toward that point of transformation when we shall know you fully. Captivate and motivate us by this mystery.

Reader: have you ever sought out a mysterious destination? Leave a story in my comments!