A few weeks ago, I explored how knowledge is deeper than just our cognitive thoughts. I find it’s more full and rich to understand knowledge as being rooted in connection and creativity.

The directions I’m exploring in this, and next week's newsletter, continue those ideas and bring in mystery, faith, and doubt. I’ve also included some of my photography to serve as visual metaphors. Below is an image and text I posted to social media in March that can be our jumping off point.

Faith lives in mystery, not knowledge. To have faith is to trust. When we know, we don’t need to trust. Faith is not about removing doubt but being able to move forward even when holding doubt.

It is not that we shouldn’t address doubt, or seek to be secure, or to feel safe, or know our way forward, but having doubt is okay. Saint James did write that we, “must have faith and not doubt,” (James 1:6, CEV). But in the context of his letter, this means we should not doubt God’s ability or capacity or character. We can of course have doubts, we're only human.

Not knowing or seeing what lies ahead can either cause us to hold back or move forward. Like walking on a path obscured with fog, or looking toward a horizon blocked by mountains, being in mystery can halt us or propel us. A curve in the trail makes me want to keep hiking and discover what’s around the bend. The mystery of a suspenseful story compels me to stay tuned so I can find out what happens. And although walking in fog awakens a sense of mystery and discovery, driving in the fog means I slow down to make sure I stay safely on the obscured road.

I find that being able to hold space for mystery and leave room for doubt connects with having questions and looking for answers. Both are important, but it's questions that lead to answers. They can help us develop knowledge and understanding. Over the past few centuries, there has been a linear, humanistic drive to know and have all the answers, to catalog and iron out spirituality and mystery, so that the knowledge of answers has been valued above holding or remaining in questions.

This is one of the reasons why art is important. It doesn't always give us the answer. Sometimes, people have asked me about my art, "What does it mean?" I’ll reply, "What do you find in it?" Of course, my art has meaning, and it is because I view art as a dialogue that I want to give others a space in it, leaving the door open for mystery, wonder, and their responses. I don't want my art to leave you with the emptiness of answers but with the fullness of questions.

An answer leaves us empty because once we receive it, it doesn’t have anything else to offer. An answer has nothing left. A question offers abundance. It can lead us to further discoveries and to find more resources. I find that questions are compelling. They lead us forward. Questions call us to the quest. When the distance is blocked and mist shrouds our vision, the mystery of questions can inspire wonder, a place for our imagination to dream of what lies ahead.