The Ultimate Mystery

Good news; but if you ask me what it is, I know not;
It is a track of feet in the snow,
It is a lantern showing a path,
It is a door set open.
       — G.K. Chesterton 1874-1936

Everybody loves a good mystery, and G.K. Chesterton has penned for us a tiny yet profound mystery novel in this brief passage. All the elements are present: an intriguing setup, a trail of hints, and the hope of revelation. A great mystery draws us in by what it withholds, and Chesterton offers just enough to stir our imagination and awaken something deep within us—a longing to know, to seek, and to enter in.

The beauty of his verse lies in the opening phrase: “Good News,” where he invites us into the very mystery of God. Like shepherds, drawn by an angelic announcement on a Bethlehem night, we hear whispers of “good news,” but ask, … what is it?

God and His ways are mysterious, yet He longs to be known. He is ever giving us clues—wooing us unto Himself with the beauty of creation, the depth of Scripture, and the quiet nudges of His Spirit. For those who long to know, to seek, and to enter in, the search is over. In the Christ of Christmas, the mystery is solved:

“The mystery hidden for ages and generations…is now revealed to His saints…Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:26-27).

Jesus is the track of feet in the snow, the lantern on the path, and the door set open. He doesn’t just point the way—He is the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6).

Chesterton’s tiny mystery novel is no mere story—it’s an invitation to encounter the ultimate mystery—the “Good News”—and His name is Jesus.

Merry Christmas.

Unto You

"Now I finally know the real meaning of Christmas."

I’ll never forget the Christmas Eve my family and I spent with our friend Jaeyoung in Daejeon, South Korea. It was a cold, snowy night—just the way Christmas Eve is supposed to be—and we walked from our apartment to Jaeyoung’s restaurant for dinner. 

The place was tiny, with only three tables, and it was packed when we arrived. Some people were seated and eating, while others waited for takeout. Jaeyoung and his wife were dearly loved in that part of the city for two reasons: their good food and warm friendship. 

We finally got a table, and Jaeyoung and his wife showered us with care and attention—they adored our daughters. The meal was delicious. As the evening wore on, the crowd slowly drifted away. One by one, people left to return home and celebrate Christmas Eve. Eventually, it was just us in the restaurant. We didn’t have anywhere else to go and wanted to be with our Korean friends. 

Jaeyoung pulled a chair up to our table. Though we spoke little Korean, he thankfully knew English well enough for us to converse. With a thoughtful glance around the room, he gestured to the strand of flashing lights in the front window, the picture of Santa taped to the door, and the tattered Christmas tree standing in the corner of his shop. Then, meeting my eyes, he asked, 'What is the real meaning of Christmas?'"

I paused, letting his question sink in. 

Is Christmas all about Santa, the Grinch, Rudolph, Frosty, gifts, toys, trees, decorations, and twinkling lights? These are all part of the season as we know it, bringing joy and color, filling it with fun and festivity. But Christmas is more than that—so much more.

I shared with Jaeyoung about God’s deep love for all people, and how He created the universe and made humanity as His most treasured possession. God desires a relationship with us as His children and in His great love He gave us free will, allowing us to choose to love Him sincerely. But our choices led to sin, which caused a separation between us and the holy God. The Bible tells the story of how God’s love relentlessly pursues us, calling us back to Himself. In the most incredible act of love, God sent His Son, Jesus, into the world to save us from our sins. Jesus came, as God in the flesh, to reveal God’s heart and to pay the price for our sins through His death on the cross and His resurrection—offering us the hope of eternal life.

And then my mind went to Linus, standing on a dimly lit stage, answering Charlie Brown’s question, “Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?” and I shared Luke 2:8-12 with Jaeyoung:

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” (KJV)

Then I said, “Jaeyoung, the real meaning of Christmas isn’t about Santa, gifts, trees, and lights. It isn’t even about the three wise men, Mary and Joseph, and a baby born in a manger. Look at what the angel said: ‘…unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior.’ … Unto ‘YOU!’” 

“Jaeyoung, Christmas is about you and me, and God’s love for each one of us.”

John the disciple says it well:

“This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him.” (1 John 4:9, NIV)

That night, in that tiny restaurant, the message broke through. Christmas isn’t just about the nativity scene or traditions. It isn’t even just about God’s miraculous act. Christmas is about us—and God’s love for us. 

I’ll never forget Jaeyoung’s response. After a moment of reflection, his face lit up with understanding. He put his hand on his heart, smiled, and said, 

"Now I finally know the real meaning of Christmas.”

The Only Real Thing

I have always been a big fan of Pooh, that "silly old bear."

A.A. Milne, the creator of Winnie-the-Pooh, wrote the beloved stories of the Hundred Acre Wood for and about his son, Christopher Robin. In the early 1900s, Pooh and his adventures captured hearts and imaginations, offering comfort and hope to a world reeling in the wake of World War I.

Sometimes, life clouds our view of what truly matters. The world—and even our own reflections in the mirror—distract and overwhelm us with news, conflict, endless controversies, and the harsh, undeniable passage of time. Stories like Winnie-the-Pooh help us rise above the noise, lift our imaginations and remind us of things that are real: friendship, hope, love, and Truth.

In 1996, the London Times reported that Christopher Milne (the real Christopher Robin) had died at the age of 75. In response, the poet Czeslaw Milosz wrote an anecdote in the voice of Winnie-the-Pooh, reflecting on youth, aging, time and eternity.

“Christopher Robin” by Czeslaw Milosz^*

I must think suddenly of matters too difficult for a bear of little brain. I have never asked myself what lies beyond the place where we live, I and Rabbit, Piglet and Eeyore, with our friend Christopher Robin. That is, we continued to live here, and nothing changed, and I just ate my little something. 

Only Christopher Robin left for a moment.

Owl says that immediately beyond our garden Time begins, and that it is an awfully deep well. If you fall in it, you go down and down, very quickly, and no one knows what happens to you next. I was a bit worried about Christopher Robin falling in, but he came back and then I asked him about the well. “Old bear,” he answered. “I was in it and I was falling and I wore trousers down to the ground, I had a grey beard, and then I died. It was probably just a dream, it was quite unreal. The only real thing was you, old bear, and our shared fun. Now I won’t go anywhere, even if I’m called in for an afternoon snack.”

I love the exchange that Milosz created between Christopher Robin and the 'silly old bear.' As a child, I adored the stories of Winnie the Pooh—where toys were fast friends and the backyard was a world of adventure, limited only by my imagination. Milosz’s anecdote resonates deeply with me, giving voice to an unexplored realm in Milne’s beautiful story, where we all, like Christopher Robin, live in the midst of childlike hope, growing up, old age, and death.

The anecdote begins with Pooh describing the garden where he and his friends live. It is a place of peace and stability, where all abide happily together. Pooh has no idea what lies beyond the garden, nor does he care. Nothing seems to change—except for the fact that he says, “Only Christopher Robin left for a moment.”

Pooh knows that his friend Christopher Robin went somewhere. Wise old Owl says that "somewhere" is beyond the garden, where Time begins, and he describes this unknown place as an "awfully deep well." Pooh lives outside of Time and has no idea that Christopher Robin’s "moment" is the deep well of a lifetime (75 years), where he left the garden and entered the world of adulthood—with all of its adventure, hope, pain, joy, loss, and love.

Currently, I am surprised to find that I am like Christopher Robin was in his "moment." I am beyond the garden of childhood innocence and unchecked imagination, and Time is having its way with me. I, in my long trousers and graying whiskers, am free-falling headlong into the unknown deep.

Yet, as I fall, I realize that I am even more like Pooh, a "bear of little brain." Not because I face things I don’t understand or care about, but rather, because I forget to fully embrace and appreciate what I already know. I take for granted the fact that each day—and the moments and people that inhabit them—are precious gifts.

So here I am, in the midst of my "moment." It feels very real to me, yet I’m reminded that it isn’t—it’s, in fact, quite unreal. At this point, my imagination leads me to the only true thing: the Truth. There is something beyond this vapor of life I live. What began in a garden long ago ended victoriously on a cross, and all my "moments" were redeemed and transformed in the depths of an empty tomb.

The author of the truest of anecdotes is Jesus. In Him alone is the place of genuine love, forgiveness, relationship and “shared fun.” In Jesus Christ is found the “only real thing,” a place where Time is no more; where there are no more tears, regrets, and goodbyes—just life together, in all of its fullness,… forever. 

Jesus says, “I go to prepare a place for you”—a place where we can say, along with Christopher Robin, “I won’t go anywhere, even if I’m called in for an afternoon snack.”

^*Milosz, Czeslaw. New and Collected Poems, (1931-2001), 2003, pg. 656.