In His Image

Dec 29, 2014 20:30

I wrote this for Antioch '99, a youth retreat I attended (and was a peer leader for) back in high school. Posting here without initial comment - feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments section. Note that this post's Visibility level is Public.



Hi, my name is Emily, and my talk today is In His Image. I’ll start off with a quote I’m sure you’ve all heard before:

Genesis 1:27 (NRSV): “So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”
When I hear the phrase “image of God” I usually think along the lines of God having a human form, physically looking like us. But I don’t think that this is what it really means. The way I see it, God created people with free will, the ability to choose between right and wrong. God also has this ability, but because he’s God, he always chooses good. Since we are not perfect, we sometimes choose evil. This does not mean that we are evil people, just that we make mistakes. We all have to try to do the right thing.

As Christians, we also have a duty to set a good example to other people. There’s a hymn that goes, “They’ll know we are Christians by our love.” You could call this good Public Relations for Christianity--if people see us behaving morally, they will be impressed, and maybe want to imitate us. I guess the final goal is to make them moral people, possibly also converting them to Christianity. There’s a really great quote from Mother Teresa. Someone asked her if she converts people. She replied, “Of course I convert. I convert you to be a better Hindu or a better Muslim or a better Protestant. Once you’ve found God, it’s up to you to decide how to worship him.” Setting a good example as moral people is really something we should do, because...well, morality is a good thing. What else can I say? Another good quote is, “Preach the gospel to all that you meet; if necessary, use words.” St. Francis of Assisi. If we can live in a way that is an example to other people, we won’t need to preach to them. I know that’s probably an issue for a lot of you; you don’t want to act like those televangelists who are always trying to convert people over the airwaves. “Now, tell Jesus, do you want to be SAVED? Then get out your checkbooks and tell Jesus just how much you want to be saved.” No. I don’t think anyone wants to be seen that way. And that’s understandable. I know that I myself am afraid of any association with these people. I’m not afraid of people knowing or thinking that I am a Christian, but I am afraid of them thinking that I will not like them or will try to judge them just because I am a Christian. There has been a lot of talk recently about the new millennium and how the youth are the future of the Church. I think that we, the next generation of Catholics, should try to set a good example to the rest of the world, and show that all Christians are not like the televangelists. We should just try to be like Mother Teresa...or, of course, like Christ. It’s like that saying a while ago, What Would Jesus Do? It’s pretty simple. If all Christians followed the example that Christ set, just as Mother Teresa did, the world would be a much better place. But obviously we can’t be perfect. What is perfection, anyway?

Being a high-school student, when I think of the perfect person, I think of someone who is the best at everything they do. They are some combination of president of clubs/honor societies, captain of sports teams, straight-A student, gifted musician, volunteer during every spare moment, Homecoming queen or king...and so on. If you think of the “perfect” adult, it is probably someone who has realized the “American Dream”--a nice house, 2 cars, a good corporate job, a loving spouse, well-behaved kids. Neither of these images ever happens in real life, but the world keeps telling us it is possible. It is still very important to strive for the most that we can accomplish, but we should not be critical of ourselves if we don’t get it. On the handout, I have a quote from J.R.R. Tolkien: To ourselves we must present the absolute ideal without compromise, for we do not know our own limits of natural strength (and grace), and if we do not aim at the highest we shall certainly fall short of the utmost that we could achieve. This is so true. You’ve just got to do the best you can at everything. You don’t have to be the best, just do your best. Last year, one of my former teachers died. I had only had the privilege of being in her class for a semester, but it was one of the best experiences I have ever had. At her memorial service, one of the speakers said that the best thing we could do to honor her memory was to try to excel at everything we do. I’m going to take this a step further: We as Christians have to honor the memory and legacy of Christ by doing our best at everything.

Now me, I am an incredible perfectionist. No matter what it is, I always have to be the best at it. If I’m not quite the best, sometimes I can convince myself that it’s ok to be second or third; but usually I get frustrated with myself. When I take a step back from my situation, I realize that I will never be perfect; I also realize that I’m trying as hard as can be expected. But it’s still not enough.
I always think I could be trying harder, or doing better, or something like that. “If I could only...” is a common thought. But as I mature, I’m starting to realize that as long as I’m doing my own personal best, I don’t have to be the best in everything. I know you’ve all probably heard this before, but I can’t stress it enough. God will love you no matter what you do. No matter what. Even if you don’t try your best, he still loves you. You should always try hard, but never from fear that God won’t love you, because he has, does, and always will. Those of you who go to Incarnation have probably heard this quote a million times in Father Bill’s sermons, but I’ll say it again: “What you are is God’s gift to you; what you make of yourself is your gift to God.”

Like I said, I’m a perfectionist. But when people compliment me, I have trouble accepting the compliments gracefully. I have always gotten good grades in school, and that’s what most of my compliments are about. But when people congratulate me on getting a 100 or something on a test, it’s all I can do to stutter a “thanks.” I am still on guard for some mocking remark to come after the compliment. When I was in middle school, I got teased a lot about getting good grades...I think that I still attach that stigma now, even though no one teases me anymore. I’m just having trouble adjusting to the fact that people can be civil to me. I have a funny little self-image issue on account of that--it still haunts me.

I feel like I’ve had a lot of different personalities in my life. Not the mental disorder, but like I’ve acted very differently around different people. I don’t know how you all are, but I know I act differently with my friends than with my parents. Not completely differently, but enough to be noticeable. I just don’t act the same way. I’ve heard this called “putting on different masks.” If people aren’t comfortable with themselves, they create masks and parade around under their new, self-created images. If you went to Albemarle last year, you’ve probably seen my old backpack. In 9th grade, I wrote “Jesus Saves” on it. I guess I just wanted to publicize the fact that I was not ashamed to be a Christian. I had this great image then, but more importantly, I had the reality behind the image. People would ask me questions like, “What does Jesus save? Does Jesus save stamps?” I laughed and said, “No, Jesus saves people.” I was very proud of myself for not letting the secular world influence my beliefs. Then I read a couple of books that really changed the way I thought: Demian, by Herman Hesse, and The Story of B, by Daniel Quinn. Basically, they offered new ways of looking at life in general, and our culture in particular. I started to think differently...and suddenly the words on my backpack didn’t make sense anymore. I wasn’t sure if Jesus really saved people, or what he saved them from, or why he needed to save them. I still gave my standard response to people asking questions, but I was no longer confident about it. I had lost the reality behind the image. The irony is that I had several people write “I really admire your faith! Your faith in God is an inspiration.” etc. in my yearbook. This was good as far as it goes--it helps other people become strong in their faith--but it was not a terribly great experience for me. Here’s another quote: “In the beginning there was nothing. And God said, “let there be light.” And there was still nothing, but at least you could see it.” I was a lot like that--my “Christian” image was illuminating me, but I had no substance that could be illuminated. I felt very fake--like I was living a lie. I got a new backpack this year, so I don’t have to deal with questions from well-meaning people, but I’m still struggling with my faith. I’ve got a bit of a light at the end of the tunnel, though: consider Luke 15. (Read Gospel passage here) Before I started questioning my faith, I was one of the 99 sheep. I had my share of sins, but I hadn’t done any of those horrible things they say you shouldn’t do. At any rate, I had never doubted my faith. Never. My whole life, up through the beginning of 10th grade, I believed completely in Jesus, in the Catholic Church, in everything I was supposed to believe in. And now I don’t know anymore. Sometimes the only thing that keeps me going spiritually is the thought that if I get through this and come back to the Catholic church, then I’ll be like that lost sheep. Doubting the faith you’ve been raised in and everyone in your family has been raised in is no picnic, but I’m working through it. There’s a quote from Ovid that goes, “Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.” I’m clinging to that kind of an idea. I’m having some basic, fundamental disagreements with the Church right now: for example, I can’t reconcile with myself whether Jesus was really the Son of God. And my take on it is that it really doesn’t matter. What’s important is that Jesus was just a great person, and we should follow his example. No matter what I do with my religion in the future, nothing will change my opinion of Jesus. He was just this awesome, loving person. He’s a role model, an example that we should all follow. That’s really all that matters.

I’ve got another little issue with the Church, or more like its institution.

One of the things they suggest to include in this talk is the idea that you aren’t good because you do good things, you do good things because you are created good, i.e. in the image of God. When I saw this, I was just like, “Oh, boy.” I have written about this a lot, and to tell you the truth, it is completely opposite to my own personal beliefs. However, it’s got a good idea behind it, the idea that God doesn’t weigh everything to the last ounce when he judges us. He looks more at our motives and true intentions. I know, I know, “good intentions pave the road to hell.” But God knows what we are really thinking when we do anything. I think that if overall you have good intentions, and honestly try to do the right thing, God will understand you.

I’d like to close with a prayer...if you all could bow your heads. God, please let us all see the goodness you put in us. Let each of us discover the path that you have chosen for us, and let us be at peace with you and the world. And let us not fear to become that which you want us to become. In Jesus’ name, we pray, Amen.

Now you guys will go in your discussion groups and do more of a “quiet time” of reflection about yourself. I find that when I write, my thoughts come out more clearly than when I speak. There’s a little worksheet that you can do, but don’t let that limit you. If you see something that strikes a chord with you, or if you’ve heard anything interesting in the talks so far, write about it. You can use the questions on the sheet as springboards and just let yourself go. Happy writing!

catholicism, antioch

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