Chapter 30: Humility

By now it is well known that no one can figure out how the image got onto the cloth of the Shroud of Turin, or how to reproduce it. And, most likely, no one ever will. So where does that leave us? Even if the speculations of some are true (that the image was caused by a burst of radiation during resurrection), we can never know for sure. Some can build amazing machines, such as the LHC and the TEVETRON, to find the God particle. Others can attempt to use nuclear reactors to prove the image was caused by outside radiation. But more likely than not, all anyone can ever attain is a “it could have happened this way” answer. Not that people shouldn't try and keep trying, but maybe there is more to consider.

If we cannot, and possibly never will be able to prove or reproduce the image...what was the point? Why would Christ have left it behind for us?

– To rub it in how very inadequate we are?

– To offer us hope of eternal life?

– To give us solid evidence so we would find a scientific way to explain or recreate resurrection?

– To guide us to levels of mind power and free will power that we never realized were accessible to us – akin to Dorothy's ruby slippers?

– To leave behind proof that Christianity is the true religion?

No possible solid answers. Just theories and beliefs and hopes and skepticism and cynicism. Yet we are mystified and compelled to keep trying to solve the mystery. We want to swim in the not knowing. We want desperately to prove it is real or fake.

Faith is not about proving. Faith is about trusting.

We are an entertaining species, at once naïve and arrogant, always hustling and haggling with life, ever needing to exert our control.

The Christianity of the past, it seems to me, had a lot more to do with humility. If we have faith that the image of the Shroud is indeed the stamp of the Almighty...can we not find the humility to admit that the supreme creator of all just may have left us a sign of His power. Isn't rejoicing in that enough for the faithful? Or do we need to venture farther because we think there is a hidden message about our own capabilities. And even if we could prove how Christ left behind the image, do we really think our own consciousness is so all powerful that we can resurrect ourselves?

I like to imagine Christ, suspended between the top and bottom of the cloth, floating and then choosing to have His particles expand to such a degree that He, in essence, vaporizes and reassembles into the image in such a way that His particles fall onto the fibrils of the cloth and also extend into the cloth as holographic information, before He expands so far and beyond our cognitive capabilities that we are at a loss to pinpoint His domain. He becomes the everything and is stamped inside each one of us.

Do I think I would ever be able to reach such a level of consciousness that I would be capable of doing the same? No. And does that make me feel human and inadequate? Yes. And does it also make me feel humbled? Very much so.

I think it is important to balance our trying to prove with humility and acceptance that our science may simply be inadequate. This is difficult, for both believers and skeptics. Believers seek proof that their faith is valid. Skeptics seek proof that their science is valid. What if faith and science are both valid and invalid? What if human consciousness is simultaneously adequate and inadequate? What if we already know everything there is to know...but we are simply unaware that we already know it?

I think the Christianity of the past over-played the humility card to make it seem almost like punishment. It had degrading overtones – as though we were too stupid and incompetent to know God. Presently, the scales are tipped in the polar opposite direction and we have become so confident in all our technologies and theories that we over-play the arrogant card and are certain we are capable of explaining God. From that perspective, the Shroud is a fascinating test for both our science and our faith. And it allows us to tinker with the deeper meaning of our existence, which we love to do.

Part of the fun of being human is that, as we advance our knowledge and technologies, we seem to be getting closer and closer to fundamental truth (though I imagine many “explorers” from the past felt the same as they made their way through the journey of human living). We enjoy thinking, doing, philosophizing, explaining, creating, and expanding our consciousness. The irony might be that this expansion is already complete and we are simply unaware.

Perhaps questioning and explaining are simply two sides of the same coin. If you read this blog, you will see that I prefer to hang out in the realm of questioning, mostly because I am ill equipped to explain because I am not a physicist or scientist. I rely mostly on intuition. To me, truth seeking is sport and essence combined.

The truth may just be that we never really know if we are close to the answers or not. Or maybe we already have the answers and just don't know it. Perhaps our struggle to understand is unnecessary and is just another feeble attempt on our part to control human existence. Perhaps we long to control because we feel as though we are not enough as we are. Perhaps control is already completely at our disposal or is completely unnecessary. The image on the Shroud is of a man who has surrendered, to suffering, to death, to resurrection. But surrendering is difficult for us because it means giving up control.

Sometimes, in a quiet moment, I can feel a fraction of the absolute power and glory of God. It's in our DNA. It's in everything that surrounds us. And it is truly magnificent and worthy of our awe. In those fractions of awareness, I need no proof, no explanation, no theory.


humbled by
the spirit of God operating
being is enough