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Tuesday, 06 February 2007 14:49 |
 | | Marc Mullinax |
"People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within."
ÇƒÓ Elisabeth Kübler-Ross
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MARS HILL ÇƒÓ In the first chapter of Genesis, which is a story about the creation of the physical universe, human beings are described as created in the image and likeness of God. In the second chapter, another creation story portrays human beings created from dust. There, we are named for the first time; "Adam" means earth.
Image
of God, and bodies of dust. Within these two poles human dramas and
character play out. Being called to greatness comes with tendencies and
seductions to wallow. We feel strongly the call of each, and the pole
to which we gravitate patterns the content of our character.
"Iëm only
human!" we say and hear, and each time, itës some retiring sound bite
of human malcontent, whining about the call to full human greatness.
Donët get me
wrong; being "only human" dust is great. Bodies are fascinating, though
rare is the person who is truly home in her body, to say, "I am a
body," (not, "I have a body"). Something about being dust brings us
into a strong present tense self-awareness, and therefore a necessary
assessment about what we are.
And yet, we are
in Godës image. If dust is humanity in present tense ÇƒÓ what we are ǃÓ
then this human image in Godës likeness is also who we are. Itës who we
are with the future tense added: what we are able to be and to become.
Living with this consciousness in the present adds a sense of future or
destiny to life.
Flesh and blood,
spirit and image. Between these two poles the human pendulum swings.
The gravity of flesh and blood as we walk on clay is where we are, but
we also have within us the momentum of the divine. We are therefore
tangles of emotions, conflicts and passions, but such knots are sinews
that link body with image, and interlace heaven and earth.
We are not
innocent bystanders ... never "Iëm only human." Something is always at
stake in our existence. When we are most human, we are caught up in or
agonizing with eternal ideas. We are most human when we seek to
reconcile our dust with the divine image.
How to
reconcile? It seems to me deceptively simple, and rarely discovered.
Figure out what that image of God wants in the world, and set your
dusty body to join that drama. Get that image a bit dusty, and the dust
a bit more divine. Integration ÇƒÓ not separate and unequal ÇƒÓ seems to be
the guideline.
And if we donët
reconcile? What if we consider ourselves only a carbon-based, hormone
driven body of dust? Or what awaits us if we deny this body to focus
only upon the divine imprint?
"Sin" is not a
word I use often, or lightly. However, we can sin against ourselves by
refusing to integrate this obvious body of dust with the implicit image
of God. Living in permanent eclipse from either would be attempting to
walk with one leg: crippling. How embarrassing it must be for us
walking miracles to hobble around, always shadowed by greatness of what
we deny!
It seems that to
be fully human we must share in the life of the divine. Inroads of the
divine lie, and can be traced, in our dust-trails. How then can one be
average, when we are called to be fully integrated? The problem seems
to be for people of faith ÇƒÓ not to demonstrate Godës design or
existence ÇƒÓ but to prove that we are not crippled.
ï
Dr. Marc S.
Mullinax, chairman of the philosophy and religion departments at Mars
Hill College, can be reached at mmullinax-at-mhc.edu.
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