I was introduced to the poet Philip Larkin a number of years ago during my studies of Clinical Pastoral education. For Larkin, peering into humanity was peering into the absurdity of the human existence. Whatever frenetic, cosmic accident that brought about a species so endowed with consciousness, the sting of mortality, incessant fears of failure, and sieges of shame, doubt, and selfishness was, for him, a bitter irony. In a poem titled "The Building," he describes the human condition as it is revealed in the rooms of a hospital, where one finds "Humans, caught/On ground curiously neutral, homes and names/Suddenly in abeyance; some are young,/ Some old, but most at that vague age that claims/The end of choice, the last of hope; and all/ Here to confess that something has gone wrong./ It must be error of a serious sort,/ For see how many floors it needs, how tall..."
With or without Larkin's sense of dread, the confession that "something has gone wrong" is often synonymous with the acknowledgment of humanity. "I'm only human" is a plea for leniency with regards to shortcoming; in Webster's dictionary, "human" itself is an adjective for imperfection, weakness, and fragility. Nevertheless, there are some outlooks and religions that stand diametrically opposed to this idea, seeing humanity with limitless potential, humans as pure, the human spirit as divine. In a vein not unlike the agnostic Larkin, the self-deemed new atheists see the cruel realities of time and chance as reason in and of itself to dismiss the rose-colored lenses of God and religion. Yet quite unlike Larkin's concluding outlook of meaninglessness and despair, they (inexplicably) suggest a rose-colored view of humanity: "There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life!", says Ariane Sherine, in an article I found
titled: "The Atheist Bus Journey," in the The Guardian, January 6, 2009, www.guardian.co.uk. which emphasizes the depravity of humanity to such a leveling degree that no person can stand up under the burden of guilt and disgust.
Even though my moments and foibles of thinking dreading thoughts there is a deep contrast to such severe or optimistic readings, I still have my personal view. It’s my Christian view. In contemplating on that view, humanity adds a nuanced dimension to the conversation. Christianity admits that while there is indeed an error of a serious sort, the error is not in "humanness" itself. Rather, something has gone wrong. Therein, I recognize this great paradox of humanity can be rightly acknowledged: I find in being human both a deep and sacred honor and yet a profound disgrace. This recognition of imperfection is simultaneously a recognition that there is such a thing as perfection. Here, the advantage is not that I find myself less fallen or closer to perfection than anyone else, nor that I find in my religion a means of escaping the world of fragility, brokenness, guilt, suffering, or error; my advantage is that I am aware of my own broken humanity within a broken, fallen world because I am aware of the one perfect human.
"Humanity's mystery," as Oscar Romero, in The Violence of Love expounds, "can be explained only in the mystery of the God who became human. If people want to look into their own mystery—the meaning of their pain, of their work, of their suffering, of their hope—let them put themselves next to Christ... If I find, on comparing myself with Christ, that my life is a contrast, the opposite of his, then my life is a disaster. I cannot explain that mystery except by returning to Christ, who gives authentic features to a person who wants to be genuinely human."
In my opinion, Romero was well acquainted with the paradox of human nature and the God who became human to call the world to authentic humanity. Oscar Romero was a Salvadoran priest who saw the very worst and the weakest of humanity in the corruption, violence, and suffering of a country at war within itself. A witness to ongoing violations of human rights, Romero spoke out on behalf of the poor and the victimized. In both the abused and the abusers, he saw the image of God, glimpses of Christ, and the dire need for his true humanity. Yet for his outcries, Romero was assassinated. He was in the middle of a church service, holding up the broken bread of communion, the very sign of Christ's human body on earth.
Thank You, Father, for Your grace in creating me to live in a world with reason to be despairing of humanity. Thank You for sending Your Son who remains the startling image of the perfect human, Whose only brokenness was at my own hands. Thank You for the Holy Spirit who has made clear that Christ is more than someone who came to fix what was wrong and that He is the image of all that is right, the bread of life for me if I seek to be genuinely human. Once again, I call on Your grace to provide the spiritual senses to remember, and bow to the conviction of practicing being human. Amen
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