THIS IS A REAL MESS

The desire to do good is inside of me, but I can't do it. I don't do the good that I want to do, but I do the evil that I don't want to do.

(Romans 7:18-19)

Sometimes the thing you're searching for appears right in front of your face. That's how I felt when thinking about how to start this book. I was looking for a way to talk about the distance between God and us, and the reason that so many of us find that in one way or another, or many ways at once, we are a mess.

This was on my mind as I attended a three-day denominational meeting. Above the stage, a giant logo was projected onto the screen, showing a detail of Michelangelo's famous work The Creation of Adam, which was painted on the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

The image consists of two hands. The one on the right is the hand of God, reaching toward Adam, trying to make contact and infuse him with life. The hand on the left belongs to Adam, who reaches feebly back, fingers slack, as if thinking: I don't know. I kind of maybe want what God is offering. Sort of. Not sure. I hope to get around to it. I need to think about it awhile.

For three days I contemplated those two hands and was reminded how perfectly they portray the human condition. Though the fingers, hands, and arms gained my attention, I found the most interesting part of the picture to be the gap between God's finger and Adam's. It was the tiniest of gaps, but there was a Grand Canyon of distance within it.

What is represented in that gap? It is the almost of life — what we would have, and could be, if only we would reach toward God as energetically as God reaches toward us. That gap is the distance between the life we have and the life we want. It is the empty space in the relationship with God that we feel even as we long for full communion with the one who created us.

Michelangelo's work is based on Genesis 1:26:

Then God said, "Let us make humanity in our image to resemble us so that they may take charge of the fish of the sea, the birds in the sky, the livestock, all the earth, and all the crawling things on earth."

Art historian Paul Barolsky points out that Michelangelo departed from the depiction of God at creation offered by other artists of his time. They typically placed God either hovering above the earth at a great distance or standing on earth while creating humans and animals. Michelangelo did something far moredramatic and biblical. He showed God soaring toward Adam. When you stand in the Sistine Chapel and look at the piece, your eye will inevitably compare the figure of God in active pursuit to the figure of Adam in passive repose. Other than posture, the two are all but identical and give new meaning to the phrase, "Let us make humanity in our image."

At the same time, the artist brought to life another creation passage, Genesis 2:7:

The Lord God formed the human from the topsoil of the fertile land and blew life's breath into his nostrils. The human came to life.

Michelangelo depicted the moment when God imparted life and spirit to Adam. Here the imago Dei, the image of God, is completed.

Created in the Image of God

The Bible says we have been created in the image of God. Think about the implications of that for a moment. If you are in a place where there are other people, look around and see what they look like. If you can get to a mirror, hold it up and take yourself in for a moment. The Spirit of the Creator graces your countenance. It is in the face of the person next to you.

You knew this when you were a child. There has always been a part of you that you knew deserved some level of recognition by others. As an infant, when an adult seemed kind, you put your arms out so the person could pick you up and admire you more closely. When another kid in preschool was interested in the way you played with the construction toys on the playground, it made sense that she wanted to join you. At lunch in elementary school, when a boy paused near your table, as if he hoped for an invitation to sit down, you could see why. In those days you were comfortable with the fact that people liked to interact with you.

Likewise, as you grew older the opposite experiences hurt for the same reason. When you learned that a group of friends all went to the movies and didn't invite you, it stung. When you asked the girl for a date and she replied, "No, thanks," it didn't matter how nicely she said it; you experienced it as a denial of something good inside you. When your parents didn't notice how many hours you invested to make that B- in chemistry, it was disappointing. You wondered if it would always require the best mark before they would recognize the good that came from you.

This feeling of worth that you possess is not about you. It is not that you feel superior to others. What is happening in those moments is an unconscious realization that God is in you. Let me be clear. You are not God. But you were made by God. You were made in the image of God. The goodness of the Creator is stamped deep inside your being. That is your identity, and it can be your reference point. That is what theologians mean when they speak of being created in the imago Dei.

However, we have a problem. We often don't see the goodness of God that is right before our face, or in our face, as the case may be. And we often don't see it in each other.

My friend Erin told me of an embarrassing moment she had while walking her dog. In one garage that she passed, a couple was openly arguing. It was a heated exchange. They were inside the garage, but the door was up, so they could be seen and heard plainly. Because three walls surrounded them, they apparently felt as though no one else could hear them. Erin knew it was socially appropriate to keep looking forward and walk briskly past. Unfortunately her small terrier did not understand social conventions. He was fascinated by the sight of two humans exchanging verbal volleys. He went to the end of his leash. He paused and stared. His head moved back and forth, following the action. Erin gave him a gentle tug. He sat down. The dog was entranced by the way the people were treating each other. The man and woman continued their verbal sparring. Erin tugged again. The dog was going nowhere. She finally had to walk over, pick up the dog, and walk away. The couple in the garage never paused.

People can be a real mess. By "people" I mean me, you, and everybody else. We lose sight of the beauty God has placed in our own lives and the lives of others. Consider for a moment how many people you know who are doing great in every way. I'll bet there aren't many. Even those who appear to be fine from the outside are often dealing with inner difficulties.

Some difficulties are beyond our influence. We don't control cancer. We can't stop the flash flood that ruins our home. But most hardships are of our own making. He has maxed-out credit cards and unmanageable interest payments because of unchecked spending. She runs late all the time and compensates by driving too fast, and now if she gets one more ticket...