A switch flipped when I spent time with Richard Rohr, a Franciscan friar, in the desert of New Mexico. “What about mystery? Why waste time trying to know something that is unknowable?” I asked him. The jovial seventy-four-year-old bald man smiled with a glimmer in his eye. “That’s a great question, Jonathan, but I think maybe you misunderstand what mystery is. A mystery is not something that is unknowable; it is something that is infinitely knowable.”
