On Faces

I find it interesting, and a little hilarious, that I cannot see my own face without outside help.  

I remember the first time I really realized the significance of not being able to see my own face. I was at Summit Ministries in Dayton, Tennessee, the summer of 2007. The topic my small group was discussing somehow went way off track, and we ended up talking about bathrooms for some reason. My small group leader mentioned that he might go in the bathroom, simply to see if he had any foreign objects on his face. As the discussion went on, my mind stayed with that off-handed comment. 

Bare with this little tangent for a moment.  My small group leader needed to use an outside source (the mirror) to see if there was anything that didn't belong on one of the most distinct things about him (his face). Surely, if there was one part of our bodies that it would make sense for us to be able to see, it would be our face. 

But here we are, our over-developed acne, the bit of mayonnaise and the running mascara, all out of our view. Surely we are unaware of these hideous blemishes which shout their presence to all who have eyes. Because we are unaware, we do nothing about them. They stay there, for all the world to see; as we continue on in our self-confidence, unaware that anything is wrong. 

The reason that I found this off-handed comment so interesting is what it might reflect about our human nature. Is it possible that the most distinct features and the characteristics by which others know us are hidden from our view without the help of an outside source to see them?  If the most obvious thing about us also happens to be our biggest blind spot, then we most certainly need to be in community with other people.   

There is no doubt in my mind that we were created to be in community - to need other people to function as a whole person.  

In the first chapter of James, the author uses this example when talking about being a doer of the word, and not just a hearer. It says: 
“…he is like a man who looks at his natural face in a mirror; for once he has looked at himself and gone away, he has immediately forgotten what kind of person he was.”