Taking on the mystery is yielding to grace, letting go of all explanations, analyses, ideologies, self-images, images of God, agendas, expectations. Taking on the mystery is undergoing the finitude of years, hallowing diminishments, and living into the solitude of our own integrity. Taking on the mystery is undergoing the pain of learning that there are no empires favored by the Holy One: not the Roman, or the British, or the Soviet, or the American. Taking on the mystery is undergoing the grief of understanding that there are no theologies favored by the Holy One: not communism or capitalism, not Islam, Judaism, or Christianity. Taking on the mystery is acknowledging that we cannot name the mystery, though we try; we cannot claim the mystery, though we do. The mystery names and claim us, inviting us to take it upon ourselves as if we were God's spies.
It came as no great revelation or dramatic insight. Just a simple reminder that I chose my responsibilities and that behind each of them is love. They are not burdens or chores; they are expressions of love. When I am not caught up in anxiety, I enjoy the activities they require. And of all my chosen tasks and commitments, those that bring the greatest challenges, frustrations, joy and satisfaction are those that are born of my deepest love, my love for those who depend on my labor.