In the early 20th Century, a German theologian named Rudolph Otto coined the term numinous, an adjective to describe an experience that is filled with the divine. The term was associated with a Latin phrase, mysterium tremendum et fascinans, that is, “a mystery before which humanity both trembles and is fascinated.”
When I unpack this phrase, I like to point to a very finite example.
Imagine, if you haven’t had the experience yourself, standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon, or some other breathtaking vista. Hold it in your mind for a moment and consider, the vast depth and beauty of that place.
There’s something that happens to us when we confront raw, natural beauty. It’s even more potent when we know that there is an inherent danger in where we stand. It’s overwhelming and powerful. We feel small and, sometimes, frozen by its might.
Standing at the edge of the canyon, we face two responses. The first is fear. We know we shouldn’t venture too close to the edge. We are aware that the closer we draw only increases the danger. Our good sense tells us to back away. We know that the void could swallow us up.
Oh, but there is another drive within us as well. It’s the one that says, “get closer to the edge, there’s more to be seen.” It’s the one that is drawn to the sight and its power. We want to be consumed by the beauty, to allow ourselves to get swallowed up in it.
This is the mysterium tremendum et fascinans, the tremendous, awful, terrifying, beautiful mystery before which we both tremble and are fascinated.
The Holy is a mysterium tremendum et fascinans. I know its hard to get this from Matthew 8, so I’ll ask you to consider reactions to the Holy throughout scripture. Moses had to turn his back and hide in the cleft of the rock so that the Lord could pass by. He could not look at the face of God and live. Several prophets, when confronted with messengers of the Lord, fell on their face at the sight of holiness and declared themselves unworthy of the sight that they beheld.
When I read Matthew 8, I can’t help but see this phenomenon at work, even if its much more subtle than the situations I described above. Jesus comes down from the mountain and those in need of healing come flocking to him. The leper, the centurion and many who were possessed by demons- they must draw near to him.
The apostles marvel at his power, “what sort of man is this, whom even the winds and the sea obey?” They won’t leave his side unless they have to.
And then there are the citizens of the Gadarenes. Jesus heals two men afflicted with demons, casting the evil spirits into swine who throw themselves into the sea.
“Thereupon the whole town came out to meet Jesus, and when they saw him they begged him to leave their district” (v.34).
We don’t have a lot of context for how they begged Jesus to leave. But we can imagine.
Get out. Go away. You are too much for us. We want no part of thing that you’re doing. It’s destructive and mysterious. It has upended our lives and resulted in loss.
One of the most amazing and beautiful and fascinating things about Jesus is how close we can draw to him.
One of the most terrifying things about Jesus is how close he can draw to us.
There’s something in my heart that says, “love me, Lord, but don’t look too close. You may not like what you see.”
And yet, an authentic interaction with Christ requires us to look inward and to bring out the parts of ourselves that need to be healed. It requires that we let him gaze upon and see us as we are. There’s more to it than just acceptance of grace. Its the confession of our sins and asking the great physician to heal the parts of us that are broken.
Inside all of us are these conflicting spirits. The ones that want to draw close and the ones that want to run away. It takes tremendous courage to pursue Christ. This was true for the disciples. It was true for the centurion. It was true for Gadarenes who had the chance to respond to the numinous which worked wonders in their midst. It’s true for me and for you.
May you be filled with courage today.
Quick Note: This is the last post for the week. I’ll be back next week with a couple of more rambling thoughts that pop into my little brain as I read the Gospel of Matthew. Thanks for reading. You can make sure you never miss a post by hitting “subscribe” below.