Mystery

Locked doors welcome the curious

Gordie Jackson
3 min readOct 20, 2020

Photo by Katia Krupchenko on Unsplash

‘Mystery’ for me was like the forbidden fruit, what I wasn’t permitted to do became more mysterious. I guess the question was, “ Why is it to be forbidden?”. The only way to know was to try.

When I was a boy my mother would send me to the Barbers on William Street. Across the way from the Barbers was the Roman Catholic Church. I was a Protestant which in the context of my North Armagh town meant I didn’t go into Catholic churches. But I was intrigued and I wanted to know what was inside. I noticed a sign for toilets on the grounds and decided that I would appear to be wishing to use the toilets as I attempted to see inside. Unfortunately, there was a sign but no toilets and if I tried the door of the church it was locked. It would take another few years before I did manage to enter the church.

I have a thing about closed doors they symbolise mystery, “What is behind those doors?”

My spiritual quest has been about getting behind ‘closed doors’. On a visit to Bournemouth, I came across a Synagogue. I had never seen inside a synagogue. I noticed an intercom system so I pressed it seeing it as my opportunity to see inside. The voice on the other end said, “Hello”, I said, “Hello, can I see inside the synagogue?” The voice asked, “Are you Jewish?” I said, “No,” the voice said, “Then you can’t come in.”

On another occasion, I was driving to a union conference in Eastbourne when on my way I noticed a Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Again I thought here is my opportunity to see inside a Mormon Temple. I parked up and presented myself at the reception, “Hi, I would like to see inside the Temple?” “Are you a Latter-Day Saint?” Well, I am in one sense but I am not a Mormon.” “Unfortunately you can’t gain access to the Temple.” They did give me a tour of an exhibition in an adjacent building.

More recently at the top of the Mount of Olives, I pressed another buzzer. It was at the entrance to an Orthodox monastery. You are familiar with the introduction and indeed with the reply, “Are you Orthodox?” “ Well not Eastern Orthodox” “Only Orthodox can enter.”

On another occasion, I was in Dublin with a friend visiting from England. We came upon Sinn Fein’s bookshop. I must have reacted to seeing it. Sinn Fein was furthest from me in terms of politics and ethnicity. If anything I had a mixture of fear and abhorrence. The friend saw it as a challenge and we decided to approach. We were searched on entry and then permitted to proceed. It was as a shrine to Irish republicism. I remained uneasy inside and didn’t stay long but long enough to appear as a possible customer.

In my hometown, I was aware of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) Meeting House. It reminded me of one of those ornaments with it frosted windows particularly when a light was on. I wondered as a child as I did with many building what went on inside. I had heard they sat in silence and that was enough to stop me going in, “How could I sit in silence for an hour?”

I did manage to cross that barrier 22 years ago when I entered my local Meetinghouse and I did manage to remain silent for an hour. I visited again seven years ago and for the last six years, I am there most Sundays mornings.

On a visit home about 6 years ago I did manage to get access to the old Meetinghouse. It was for sale and an old school friend had the keys. In a sense that day the mystery ended as I saw inside yet each time I enter the silence of a Quaker meeting there is a sense of mystery as I have no idea what will unfold in the next hour.

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Gordie Jackson

Speaks with a Northern Irish accent, lives in Hertfordshire, England.