Participation

We start out life as a speck in our mother’s womb. We are utterly dependent on another for our being. And since our mother is a part of a web of being that is interdependent, we are dependent upon the whole web and on Being Itself. We are provided for, nurtured, sustained in a oneness with the whole. We are the world before we differentiate ourselves from it. We are born and placed in our mother’s arms; we are provided with physical nourishment at our mother’s breast and receive spiritual sustenance as we gaze upon our mother’s countenance. We take our place in a relationship that allows us to begin to become an individual, distinguished from the whole. We come to know our individuality in relationship to others and the world. As an infant, we look at our hand and, at some point, realize it is connected to our body and our body is separate from other bodies. As we grow in relationship, we grow a sense of self. How we feel about ourselves has much to do with how we are received; we thrive in the love expressed in our mother’s countenance or, if love is lacking and there has been a breakdown of some kind, we feel loss or rejection.

In all our experience, we live by participation. We participate in being: in a world, in nature, in relationships with other creatures, with other human beings. By participation, we become who we are. We come to know ourselves through our relationships with others. Our self-reflection happens in our movement out to others and to the world. We come to know and love ourselves (or have difficulty knowing and loving ourselves) by our experience with others and the world. We cannot be who we are without others. We gain our sense of self by interaction.

By means of interaction, we differentiate ourselves from others not only physically but spiritually. We make decisions about ourselves in relation to others. We decide in which ways we are like (or unlike) other persons—have or do not have similar values, purposes, or sense of self. This is not simply a matter of not looking like another person. We realize that we are a unique self, with individual choices, feelings, and thoughts. We can say, "I am not like that. I am more like this." Although our self-evaluations can often be wrong, our attempts to distinguish ourselves from others is more a search for ways to define our individuality than with a concern with our having different bodies.

In other words, we are not only body, but spirit. We transcend the particulars of our lives. In our conscious awareness, we are infinitely open. Put a limit before us and we move beyond it. If we talk about the beginning of the universe, we are likely to wonder what was before the beginning. We can think about the beginnings and endings of this or that creature or object, their limits and particularity, because we consciously transcend those limits. We are actively in the business of defining (delimiting) them. We are that creature that names the animals. God formed every animal of the field and every bird of the air, and brought them to the man to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called every living creature, that was its name.¹

What we recognize here is that our participation in the world is not simply an immersion. We are that creature that stands out of and over against the world of which we are a part. We are not simply determined by the world. The self that comes forth is not the sum total of our DNA, our relationships, our place in society, and all the causal events that make up our lives. While these aspects in the development of ourselves are critically significant, we also transcend these. We open out to Being Itself, to the Mystery behind and in all that is, so that individually we stretch out for our unique purposes. We are the creature who asks, Who am I? Why am I here? and we are not satisfied with an answer that narrowly defines us as the determination of a series of causal relations. Nor do we seek only a general answer about being human. We reach out for our uniqueness, our particular self, with its ways of being and its purposes in living out its singular life. When we acknowledge this reaching out and infinite openness, we are admitting to and pointing to the spiritual dimension of being human.

We are spirit. We are receptive and listening, and the Holy Mystery of the universe speaks to us. There is direction for the human self that is coming to be. Using the language of Scripture, God calls us to purposeful action. We stretch out for this call and purpose (whether we are conscious of it or not). This call is mediated through our lived experience in community and the world. It is there for us as we—along with all that exists—participate in God, the ground of all being. In our openness and transcendence, we are reaching out to God, to know God—that is, to live in God in whom we have our being.

As transcendent beings, we recognize a depth to our particular kind of being. We recognize the essential place of love, hope, and faith for being human. Regardless of how well we understand these expressions of human experience in their depth, we have the words that point to these dimensions of our humanity. Of course, these aspects of being human must take their own particular form in the lives of each of us. Love must direct us outward, with our particular abilities, to serve others. Hope must be experienced in our own individual suffering and struggle. Faith must provide discernment for our individual decisions. We must walk by faith, not by sight² in the midst of our various desires and urges and that which presses upon our lives. However, the way we come to know our individual uniqueness and callings is always in, with, and through others—through community, the world, and the presence of God in all things.

The apostle Paul implies God’s presence in all things when he writes, For from him and through him and to him are all things.³ In creation, we encounter God, from whom all things come. This experience of God’s presence is also applied to Christ, the Human One (or, in the Aramaic idiom, Son of Man). In Colossians, we read that Christ is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn [in the sense of supremacy] of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible and in him all things hold together.⁴ As the image of the invisible God, Christ is God’s presence in the world. All creation (all things⁵), having been created in Christ, manifests God’s presence. We too, having been created in the image of God, share in the divine reality of the Human One who is the Image of God. In Christ, even our alienation from God cannot keep us from being God’s presence in the world. For in [Christ] all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.⁶ The reconciliation of humanity to God (God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself⁷) affects and includes creation. Our humanity cannot be separated off from the rest of creation. Further, Colossians implies this: A human being, created in the image of God, in whom the fullness of God dwelt, crucified by the Romans two thousand years ago, affects all creation. We, who differentiate ourselves from one another and from other creatures, are related to—and one with—all creation. We, who are made in the image of God, encounter God and our humanity in all creation. We who are spirit are also the stuff of the universe. In being open and present to the universe, we are present to ourselves.

In the texts above, Christ is lifted up as the image of God. This phrase is a reference to Christ’s—and our—humanity. The first book of the Bible refers to humanity as being created in the image of God.⁸ In Jesus, as the Christ, we see ourselves; we see our true humanity as the image of God. We recognize that image whenever we encounter love that is compassionate, welcoming, open, unconditional. The first chapter of the Gospel of John provides us with a similar expression. Christ Jesus is the word of God in the flesh (that is, in our humanity). When we are truly human, as God created us to be, we are words of God, expressions of the unfathomable Creator. We see that true humanity in Christ. The book of Hebrews says something similar: Christ is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being.⁹ In the same way as image and expression, the idea of being an imprint points to our humanity. As the exact imprint of God, Christ represents our true humanity. In this passage in Hebrews, the one who is the imprint of God’s being is also called Son of God, another expression of our humanity: We are children of God.

The book of Hebrews, in particular, presents Christ Jesus as mediator and priest. We come to God through him. The concept is similar to that which we find in Paul’s writings: we enter into the presence and reality of God through Christ. There is a pattern in the New Testament to these various expressions: image, imprint, word of God, children of God, through Christ. We become children of God, through the one who is the Child of God. The reality of our being the image, expression, and imprint of God is found in and through the one who is at the center of human reality: the one sent by God as our true humanity. This humanity is a humanity in union with God. Christians lift up Christ Jesus as the union of God and humanity through whom we come to be in union with God. We become participants of the divine nature¹⁰ through the one who is the Participant of the divine nature. Our participation in Christ, the theme of this book, has to do with our being in God without which we lose our humanity. To be human is also to be divine. In the Gospel of John, when the Jewish authorities picked up stones with which to pummel Jesus to death, he asked them for what good work they were going to stone him. They said it was because you, though only a human being, are making yourself God. Jesus’ response is apparently a quote from Psalm 82: You are gods and children of the Most High. Jesus declares that if those to whom the word of God came were called gods, then he does not blaspheme by saying that he is God’s son (or, in the words of the Psalm, a child of the Most High).¹¹ Yes, Jesus is divine, as are we who are created in the image of God and experience that image as we participate in Christ, the Divine-Human.

What is important to recognize, moving forward, is that participation in Christ and participation in our true humanity are, in fact, the same reality. And this participation, at least potentially, is an ever-present reality. It is possible to avoid our true humanity. We speak of the inhumanity of human beings. With these words we acknowledge the radical freedom that allows us to turn away from our true humanity. But our true humanity is near. As Jesus says, The reign of God is near, and if God and God’s governance are near, the humanity for which God created us is also near. This humanity comes to us in all things. That is why our relationships to one another—and to all creation—matter for our coming to be our true selves.

All things, of every time and place, are one in God. Through Christ, we are one in God. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.¹² Our oneness transcends time and space. Christians speak of the communion of saints, which includes those now living and those who have died and yet live. We remain one communion across time in the eternal now, the past existing as memory and the future as not yet. Jesus, when arguing with the Sadducees concerning the resurrection of the dead, uses words from the Hebrew Scriptures: He speaks of the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, a reference to the ancestors.¹³ He then says that God is not a God of the dead but of the living. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are, in some manner, among the living.

Across cultures, there has been a revering of ancestors as in some way living and related to us. This is true in Christianity as well. Our relationship with ancestors of faith takes an especially dynamic form in Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox traditions. There is the sense that those who have gone before us remain related to us: We can ask them to pray for us. The book of Hebrews tells us that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, referring to those who have lived by faith and have died.¹⁴ In some way, our participation in all things includes those who have died and live in God. Christians understand this to be particularly true for our relationship with Jesus, the Human One, who died and was raised and intercedes for us.¹⁵

Jesus is our primal Ancestor, the firstborn from the dead: he is our older brother who God raised from the dead and in whose life we participate.¹⁶ Jesus is the living Christ and Human One in whom we have our true humanity. Jesus, our Ancestor, risen from the dead, is living and present. We are invited to share in his life and, through him, grow into our true selves, empowered by the Spirit. Participation in the Human One is participation in our true humanity, which is a humanity in relationship with God. In Christ, our humanity and all of creation become open to us. Through Christ, all things are alive to us with God—alive with God’s presence and power. All of creation mediates the Creator.

Participating in Christ, we share in Christ’s openness to God, to others, and to the world. Openness to others means that we see their needs and respond with compassion. Openness to the world means that we live in a healthy relationship with the world as our home. Sharing in Jesus’ trust in God and right relationship with God puts us in a right relationship with all of creation. We cannot live and become our true selves without participation.

1

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19.

22

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2

Cor

5:7.

3

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11

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36.

4

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15

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17.

5

. For a discussion of all things as a synonym for all creation and its usage in the Hebrew Bible, see Barth and Blanke, Colossians, 199.

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19

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20.

7

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Cor

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19.

8

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27.

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10

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11

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31–36.

12

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32.

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12

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1.

15

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8

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34.

16

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18.

Being Human

Every time we are drawn to look up into the night sky and reflect on the awesome beauty of the universe, we are actually the universe reflecting on itself.

—Swimme and Tucker¹⁷

We, who are made of star dust (considering that our planet is made of the detritus of aging stars), are the universe reflecting on itself. We are a point in the evolution of the universe and our planet where the universe becomes self-conscious and beholds itself. We are both one with the universe and, at the same time, stand out over against it. We are that creature that comes to know itself and the world around it. Our consciousness is not closed, but opens out to the world and to our self. We not only participate in the world by taking it in, through our senses, but by insight, understanding, and knowledge. We gain knowledge within community; we share in the knowledge gained. I do not