Column
Awe and wonder
Creed
Film & TV
Re-enchanting
4 min read

The great pie mystery

Some unusual graffiti give insight into reality’s mysteries.
A green bridge spans a motorway, on its side is graffiti that reads 'PIES'
The view on the M6.
drgillybean, Creative Commons.

Do you have a favourite piece of graffiti? I used to.  

If you're travelling on the M6 around Cheshire, at some point you’ll come to one of those green motorway bridges. And on the side of it, overlooking the tarmac, you'll see in massive writing the word “PIES”.  

When I was a kid, I used to be fascinated by this. It raises so many questions. Who wrote the graffiti? How did they do it? Was this person in favour of pies or against them? Was it about all pies or just some pies? What had happened in this person's life to make them have such strong opinions about pastry?  

And it was just me. For nearly 30 years, people were left nonplussed about the graffiti as more and more instances of it began to crop up across the North-West of England. 

And then, in 2016, the mystery was solved. Apparently, it wasn't really to do with pies at all. It was all the result of a Liverpool band called The Pies trying to promote their music. After getting stuck on the motorway one day, they decided to write the name of their band on the side of the motorway bridge because, well, what else are you going to do when you’re broken down?  

It's fair to say, I was a little bit gutted to learn about the origins of the graffiti. 

What was once an intriguing mystery that kept me up at night and haunted my every thought (okay, perhaps a slight exaggeration) was revealed to be something so … boring. With hindsight, I wish I'd never learnt the truth about what happened. I thought wanted to know the origins of the pastry-based vandalism but, as they say, ignorance sometimes is bliss.  

You see, we sometimes need a little bit of mystery in life.  

Peel back the world in Lost or Westworld and you see there’s actually only a thin layer of reality masking a great chasm of nothingness. 

This is evident in lots of different ways, but perhaps most apparent when it comes to entertainment and art. TV series Lost, for example, was a huge hit when it first came out. Why did the plane crash? What is the island? What is the smoke monster? Viewers were hooked and demanded answers.  

But then answers came and everyone was upset. As Lost went through series after series, and explained more and more about what was happening, the audience slowly became more and more disenchanted with the program. The finale – where the programme’s biggest mysteries were finally revealed – was almost universally panned. 

The same to be said of the recent HBO hit Westworld. Its first series was by far and away its best. But season two and three trailed off significantly as there was simply no mystery left in the programme after its spectacular first series. I wonder if this is precisely why the works of the late David Lynch were as compelling as they were? The still-incredible Twin Peaks holds up so well precisely because it categorically refuses to explain itself. 

Elsewhere there is a growing tendency in video games, for example, for the narrative of the story to be hidden away, shrouded in mystery and atmosphere. Think of From Software games like Dark Souls and Elden Ring, massively successful in part because they are so mysterious. In both instances, it’s entirely possible to complete the game and have no clue whatsoever that there was even a story in the game, let alone to understand it. The player becomes captured by the mysteries of the worlds they find themselves in, and it’s these mysteries, rather than any answers, than compel them forwards. 

The reason why programmes like Lost and Westworld begin to lose their allure as they explain more and more about their world is that this jars with the reality of the world around us. Peel back the world in Lost or Westworld and you see there’s actually only a thin layer of reality masking a great chasm of nothingness.  

Peel back the world around us, however, and reality goes all the way down. And this is precisely what we would expect from a world created by a God, who is infinitely Infinite. Reality is not paper thin; goes all the way down. It is mysterious, unfathomable, and resists easy answers. 

And so, when we get disappointing explanations about a plane crash in a TV programme, or the origins of our favourite graffiti, it rightly leaves us feeling unsatisfied. Because we are made to be at home in a world that is deeply real. We are made to be at home in a world where the reality has unfathomable, unimaginable depth to it. A world that cannot simply be explained away. 

And this is why mystery is so important in our life. In the post-Enlightenment culture in which we find ourselves, a culture that demands every question be answered and every Scooby-Doo villain be unmasked, the notion of boundless mystery might seem somewhat disquieting. 

But we are made for mystery. And this is why the best works of art trade more on the mysteries they introduce, rather than the answers that might be behind them. And this is why mystery can be found all around us. Even in a pie.

Join with us - Behind the Seen

Seen & Unseen is free for everyone and is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you’re enjoying Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Alongside other benefits (book discounts etc.), you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing what I’m reading and my reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin

Editor-in-Chief

Review
Change
Re-enchanting
5 min read

Our top 10 Re-Enchanting conversations

Podcast co-host Tindall picks her favourite episodes.

Belle is the staff writer at Seen & Unseen and co-host of its Re-enchanting podcast.

A man wearing a hat sits at a table talking and raises both hands in front of himself to gesture

Disenchantment, that was the prediction. Well, it was ‘demagification’ (‘entmagisierung’), if we’re being specific. The idea - coined by German sociologist, Max Weber, and largely popularised by Canadian philosopher, Charles Taylor – is that we’d lose our appreciation of the mystical things, the sacred things, and the transcendent things. We’d simply stop trusting them. Instead, we’d have our eyes glued to all that is rational, measurable, and material. The stuff that we make would be the stuff that awes us and meaning would become something that only our minds are given permission to conjure up. We’d be at the top of the pyramid; nothing beyond us, nothing above us, nothing more clever or able than us. This would be us - subject to the process of disenchantment. Thoroughly de-magic-ed. 

That was the prediction.   

And, one could argue that it’s happened - we’re there, just as we were predicted to be. We’ve arrived at disenchantment station with no need for all of that pre-modern baggage.  

Or so it seems.  

I’m increasingly sceptical that we really have scrubbed ourselves clean of the residue of pre-modernity, I’m dubious at the suggestion that there isn’t a hint of enchantment left on us. I wonder if we’re just pretending that’s the case – I also wonder if we’re getting worse and worse at it. I sometimes think that we doth protest too much. That’s my hunch, anyway. Either way, whether this disenchantment we’re living in was inevitable or has become some kind of self-fulfilling prophesy, its presence begs the question: are we happy about it? Or are we longing for re-enchantment? And, if we are craving such, where are we going to find it? Where can we go?   

That’s the premise of Seen and Unseen’s Re-Enchanting podcast, the question written into the rock of each and every episode. We speak with a myriad of guests – those who are influential in all kinds of corners of culture - and wonder whether the Christian story is where re-enchantment might be found. Is it a place we can go when we’re yearning for a story that isn’t so secular? When we’re pondering the meaning of things beyond what we decide the meaning is?  

I’m one of the hosts of this podcast (alongside Justin Brierley), and I really mean it when I say this – these conversations are special. They have so often infused my mind, settled my heart, piqued my curiosity, and shifted my perspective on… well… pretty much everything. They’ve done what they set out to do, they have enchanted me.  

This year, we hit fifty episodes. To celebrate, I’d like to break down my top ten most re-enchanting conversations from 2024.  

 

Joshua Luke Smith is at number ten. This conversation - with the poet, songwriter, storyteller, podcaster – reminded me of the art of noticing. It reminded me of the importance in seeing my life, as over-familiar as I am with it, as the backdrop to some truly miraculous things. I’ll never again kid myself into thinking that the mundane isn’t a mighty space.  

Go to episode

 

In at number nine is the creative force of nature, Jessica Oyelowo. As a singer, songwriter, actor, producer and documentary maker, Jessica had a lot to say on what it’s like to believe in a God who wishes to get his work done through you.  

Go to episode

 

I’ve always admired Krish Kandiah, so to get him onto Re-Enchanting was a little bit of an honour. His thing is hospitality – dedicating his life to hosting vulnerable children, asylum seekers, and people he vehemently disagrees with. This conversation is a culture wars antidote.  

Go to episode.

 

I had an odd experience with this episode. As I was actually recording this episode, I was already looking forward to listening to it. Which I have, multiple times. Professor Iain McGilchrist is a psychologist and philosopher and well worth an hour (or seven, if you listen to it as much as I have) of your time.  

Go to episode.

 

Ah, Elizabeth Oldfield. Mockingbird recently called her ‘your spiritual but not religious college roommate who keeps pushing Sally Rooney books on you and won’t get the hint.’ And if that doesn’t sell this episode to you, I don’t know what will. I’m not sure how to sum up this conversation, other than to say that it felt like medicine.  

Go to episode

 

I cried while recording this episode. It was so moving it made me cry in front of the world-renowned mega-big-deal scientist, Francis Collins. It’s not my finest moment, professionally speaking. But who can blame me? This was one of the most profound conversations I’ve ever had.  

Go to episode

 

Once or twice, I’ve left an episode recording audibly thanking God for making the person with whom I had just spoken. This was one of those times, Lisa Fields is thank-the-actual-Lord-worthy.  

Go to episode.

 

And we’re in the top three. Up in third place is the notorious Rory Stewart: centrists rejoice! This episode actually didn’t involve me; I was sitting behind the camera, watching on in awe. Rory speaks with rev. Jonathan Aitken about their experiences with prisons (one as the Prisons Minister and one as a prisoner – Jonathan’s line), the current state of Westminster, and the role of faith in politics.  

Go to episode.

 

In second place, but holding a particularly special place in my heart, is Claire Gilbert. Claire points us to the wonder of medieval mystic, Julian of Norwich. Who, in turn, points us to the wonder of God. The result was falling deeper in love with all three of them. Claire, and her beloved Julian, are a balm to the weary soul.  

Go to episode.

 

This had to be number one. There was no question. Not a hint of deliberation. This conversation had me glowing for days, it was that good. Martin Shaw, renowned mythologist, wilderness devotee, lover of ‘the Galilean druid’, and, I think, the most extraordinary man I’ve ever met. This conversation – his stories and his thoughts – had me mesmerised. And, considering the amount of people who have spoken to me about this episode since, I don’t think I’m the only one.  

Go to episode.

 

I defy you to listen to any one of these conversation and not consider yourself re-enchanted. Go on, I dare you.  

Join with us - Behind the Seen

Seen & Unseen is free for everyone and is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you’re enjoying Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Alongside other benefits (book discounts etc.), you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing what I’m reading and my reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin

Editor-in-Chief