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Prologue to the Prolegomena of Theology
Theology is often maddening. It’s glorious, thrilling, and deeply satisfying—but when we hit a dead end (or what feels like one), it can throw us into a tailspin. Sometimes, even an existential crisis. That’s why I believe mystery should be part of our prolegomena—that is, the opening groundwork of theology. Before we dive into doctrines, definitions, and systems, we need to acknowledge that there are things we will not solve. That’s not weakness—it’s faith.
Before I get too far, let me do something uncharacteristic of me and dive right into the examples. (For those of you who know my style, it will be an illustrative mystery why I do this… wait, I need to stop, or it won’t stay uncharacteristic for long.)
Five Mysteries of Theology
The following are five mysteries of the Christian faith. Five areas that are beyond our understanding.
1. The Mystery of Creation out of Nothing (Ex Nihilo)
God exists above all time, space, and matter. He is what we call the “necessary being,” meaning His existence is necessary and does not depend on anything outside Himself. He is not made, not caused, not contingent (that is, not dependent on anything). But this raises a question: where on earth did He get the stuff to create everything else? Well, nothing on earth is responsible. In fact, nothing anywhere is responsible—except His will.
Everything that is couldn’t have come from God Himself—otherwise, He would be made of the same time-space-matter fabric as the universe, and we’d be forced to ask what lies beyond that version of God to find the truly transcendent One. But it also couldn’t have come from something outside Himself, because then something other than God would be eternal. So as strange as it sounds, everything had to come from nothing. That’s not irrational—it’s philosophically necessary. All other options collapse under contradiction.
This is what we mean by creation out of nothing—not just that God created a world, but that He did so without any raw material at all. The source is His power, and His power is who He is, because all that He is is who He is. I’m getting complicated, aren’t I? What I’m talking about is the doctrine of God’s Simplicity—the idea that God is not composed of parts: not spatial, temporal, material, or even divisible by attributes. But since “simplicity” tends to get complicated quickly, I’ve chosen to stick with the more vivid picture: the mystery of ex nihilo creation—everything from nothing, by the will of the God who needs nothing.
2. The Mystery of the Doctrine of the Trinity
We believe in one God who eternally exists in three Persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Isn’t this a contradiction? No. It would only be a contradiction if we said we believed that God was three Gods and one God, or if we said we believed He was three Persons and one Person. But to say that the Trinity is one God in three Persons is not a formal contradiction, but a mystery—a paradoxical reality.
3. The Mystery of the Doctrine of the Hypostatic Union
We believe that the second Person of the Trinity, Jesus Christ, is fully God and fully man (at least since the time that He became man). We don’t believe that He is fifty percent God and fifty percent man, or even ninety/ten. Christ is everything that God is and has eternally, even in the incarnation, sharing in the full divinity of the one God, yet He is everything that man is forevermore. Whereas the Trinity is one nature with three Persons, Christ is one Person with two natures. This is indeed a mystery, but has no earmarks of a formal contradiction.
4. The Mystery of the Doctrine of Scripture
We believe the Bible is fully inspired by God, yet fully written by man. God did not put the writers of Scripture in a trance and direct their hand in the writing of Scripture (often referred to as “mechanical dictation”), but He fully utilized their personality, circumstances, writing style, and mood in producing the Scriptures. Another way to put it is that the Scriptures are the product of the will of God and the will of man. Mystery? Yes. Contradiction? No.
5. The Mystery of Human Responsibility and Divine Sovereignty
God is sovereign over the entire world, bringing about His will in everything. He does as He pleases in Heaven and on Earth. There is not a maverick molecule in all the universe. He even sovereignly predestined people to salvation before they were born, while passing over all others. Yet man is fully responsible for all his actions. There will be a judgment of the unrighteous one day in which God will hold people responsible for their rejection of Christ. How could there be a judgment if people were doing only what they were predestined to do? I don’t know. But I do know that they are truly responsible for their actions and rejection of God. This is a mystery beyond any human ability to solve, yet not a contradiction.
Why These Mysteries?
Are there more than these? Most certainly. But in theology, right now, these are the biggies. These are the big pieces of our present theological puzzle that are missing.
Why are these pieces missing? I don’t know. Maybe God is choosing not to tell us. Maybe it’s necessary that we don’t know. Or maybe—just maybe—it’s by His design. Maybe He’s saying, “I want you to trust Me here.”
Sometimes I imagine Him saying:
“Michael, I’m not going to tell you how to fix this right now. Can you trust Me? I’ve got it figured out. It’s under control. Lean on Me. Can you do that?”
Sometimes I can.
And sometimes I can’t.
Sometimes I trust Him.
And sometimes I throw a theological fit and force a conclusion. Or I cross my arms and pout, quietly declaring that I’m under no obligation to believe Him until He explains Himself.
Don’t Solve What God Left Mysterious
Don’t get me wrong. There is nothing wrong with trying to solve these, and I think everyone needs to get into the ring and wrestle with these issues until they are beaten, bloody, and bruised.
But church history has shown that whenever these are “solved,” heresy or serious aberration is always the result. Unfortunately, many continue to opt not to let these mysteries remain. Often with good intentions, Christians have found “solutions.” But these “solutions” normally have to distort God’s revelation to do so. Preferring a settled logical system, many find pieces of another puzzle and force it to fit. The result is an obscured and inaccurate—sometimes even damnable—view of God.
Resisting the Crayons
This is what I mean by theology in the white spaces. The white spaces are those areas where God has deliberately not given us ink. He gave us a real picture, just not a complete one. And the temptation is to reach for crayons and markers and try to finish the masterpiece ourselves. But when we do that, we stop doing theology and start doing mythology. We project a god of our own certainty and call it biblical.
Mystery Is Not Contradiction
Theology in the white spaces means learning to be faithful even where we can’t be final. It’s the difference between mystery and contradiction, between trust and control. The white space is not empty—it’s luminous. It’s where reverence lives. It’s where Job puts his hand over his mouth. It’s where Paul cries out, “Oh, the depth of the riches!” and then stops. It’s where we see “dimly,” and worship deeply.
Thank God for the Puzzle Pieces We Do Have
Where God has left the puzzle pieces out, so should we. He knows what He is doing. Let’s just thank Him for the pieces we do have and worship, for now, in the white mysterious area. Hand firmly over mouth is a good theological posture sometimes.
Scriptures for the White Spaces
Deuteronomy 29:29
“The secret things [missing puzzle pieces] belong to the Lord, but the things revealed [present puzzle pieces] belong to us and our children forever.”
1 Corinthians 13:12
“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
Apophatic and Cataphatic Theology
Let me end with two important and ancient terms in theology: cataphatic and apophatic.
- Cataphatic theology is the theology of revelation. It’s the way we speak positively about God based on what He has made known. God is just. God is love. God is holy. It’s the direction we travel, the road we’re called to walk, driven by the light we’ve been given. It’s how we talk when God speaks.
- Apophatic theology, by contrast, is the theology of mystery. It defines by negation. It reminds us that God is not bound by time. God is not created. God is not finite. It’s the road that ends in white space, in silence, in reverence. It marks the edges of the map—where the trail fades and the signs say, “You cannot go further.”
We drive with everything we have toward cataphatic truth. That’s the direction. That’s the pursuit. But we eventually reach places where the road ends—and that’s where apophatic theology begins. At the edge of knowing. At the border of the secret things. We acknowledge the dead ends—not as failures, but as fences built by God Himself.
“The secret things belong to the Lord.”
Theology without cataphatic revelation is aimless. Theology without apophatic humility is reckless.
We need both.
Uncomfortability and Truth
If you’re not comfortable with mystery, you’re in the wrong faith. Christianity doesn’t trade in certainty the way the modern Western mind often demands. “We can figure it all out!” That belief might give us many correct directions on the theological map, but it promises a destination that undermines God’s infinitude and ineffability.
If God is truly beyond us, then our understanding must, at some point, give way to awe.
Beautiful White Spaces
In the end, these mysteries—creation out of nothing, the Trinity, the incarnation, inspiration, and sovereignty—aren’t theological leftovers waiting to be solved. And they’re not pillars holding up the faith. They’re signals—markers that we’re working on the right puzzle. If we never encounter mystery, we’re probably forcing the wrong image to appear. But when we do, it’s a sign we’re dealing with the real, eternal God.
Mystery isn’t a flaw in theology—it’s a feature. Our calling is to know and understand God (Jer. 9:24), and in this we rejoice. But we are not summoned to master Him. Theology is like a puzzle: God has given us enough pieces to see the picture, but not enough to complete it. That is impossible. To complete it would be to be God. The white spaces are the gaps He either left on purpose or that necessarily exist because of our finitude. Either way, those are the places where we stop and worship instead of trying to finish the image ourselves.
But we don’t like gaps. So we force pieces from another puzzle. Or we reach for the crayons and markers and start coloring in what God left blank. When we do that, we stop doing theology and start doing mythology.
Don’t get me wrong: I want to finish the puzzle. We all do. It’s a natural drive for those created in His image. But I also understand why the white spaces are there. And I want to see those white spaces not as obstacles, but as invitations—summoning me to fall on my knees before a God who is wholly Other, and holy Other.
The Puzzle
Here is the Illustration I Made Years Ago to Help Me Remember. It would serve as a great visual in our theological study or at home.
