Scripture Focus
“There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death.”
- Proverbs 14:12 (ESV)
Thesis
Humans have often condensed our self-understanding down to a particular set of salient attributes, or primary drivers. This has normally served as a way to tame the inner ambiguity of our lived experience and set humans apart from other animals or “things.” Humans have also leaned in the other direction embracing full ambiguity (which ends up feeling like some sense of “wholeness” or “authenticity”) in order to try and hold the vast variety of our inner and outer self together. Both approaches seek to construct a coherent (or at least genuine) self-understanding. However, with the rapid churning of our world, both approaches increasingly place us on the precipice of internal incoherence. This discussion seeks to reclaim the potter and clay self-understanding first put forward in Genesis 2 as a needed reorientation to reclaim and maintain our sense of humanity in the world today.
Thoughts proceeding these: Embodiment of Community
Similar Notes:
An Introductory Framework for Technology
A Theology of Technology
Artificial Mountains
A Theology of Technology
The Echo Chamber Squeeze
Religion of Technology
Principles for Working with Tech Tools
Soundbite Culture
Notes - AI and the Problem of Knowledge Collapse
When I first began writing this essay more than two years ago, Artificial Intelligence (or AI) was just beginning to emerge as a buzz word. I had experimented with early versions of AI as one of Google’s beta “search lab” participants. It was fun and novel at first, but I quickly began writing because I knew I needed something in order to face this changing technology and consequently changing world.
A personal story that still sticks in my mind of just how fast things have been changing was watching my wife’s reaction to an AI chatbot drastically change. The first time I showed her a chat, I typed in a question and out popped the answer. The sheer newness of it creeped her out. That initial encounter felt like the eerie automatic writing from a ouija board. The sensation of not knowing who, or what, was spitting out so much text in response to a simple question was understandably disconcerting. She swore she would never use something so freaky and strange. Fast forward to today and that reaction almost seems comical with how pedestrian the experience of chatting with an AI has become.
And so I have been writing, and rewriting, and deleting, and starting over, because I have realized that there was a part of my self-understanding that was not prepared to live in the world of AI (or any world for that matter). And so the following essay has been an internal dialogue of sorts as I have wrestled with what it means to be human in the midst of our quickly evolving machines.
Afterall, we live in an increasingly mechanized and machine driven world. Every space we inhabit has some machine close by to do our bidding. We have shaped and reshaped our environment in order to accommodate cars, electricity, TVs, computers, smartphones, etc. The advent of AI really only brings to awareness the cogs and levers we have become accustom to living among. The technological landscape and the machines it creates is an ever changing and flexing reality.
In the face of this constant movement, answering the simple question: What are you? is no longer one that is an interesting subject of academia. The givenness of being human has slowly leeched out of our culture to the point that picturing ourselves without machine language is becoming more and more difficult. The warning of renowned computer scientist Joseph Weizenbaum is becoming uncomfortably pressing:
Joseph Weizenbaum, Computer Power and Human Reason (1976)
I want them to have heard me affirm that the computer is a powerful new metaphor for helping us to understand many aspects of the world, but that it enslaves the mind that has no other metaphors and few other resources to call on.
The purpose of this discussion is to poke at some of the self-assumptions that have been flying around our chaotic world and often pass as neutral. Those places we have allowed our minds to become enslaved to a world defined by levers and gears. Not with the hope to abolish machines, but to more clearly understand who we are so that we may use them profitably.
A Brewing (or Brewed?) Crisis
AI promises itself as the next technological revolution. Yet another total redefinition of the world and how it works. It comes on the heels of Modernity, the Industrial Revolution, Post-Modernism, the iPhone, etc… Ever since it’s early “success” (depending on what you count that as) it is now being bled into every piece of hardware and software imaginable. The rate of this diffusion is so rapid that one can scarcely ask the question IF you will use it but rather HOW you will react when it shows up in your browser, or on your phone, or comes knocking at your door (probably literally).
In many ways, Artificial Intelligence is jumping off the pages of science fiction into more and more everyday forms. At the time of writing, asking an AI for assistance with many tasks has reached the point of common conversation and adoption. Not to mention, well known Large Language Models like ChatGPT or Gemini are but one type of AI model arising from the underlying technology of Neural Networks. Theorists have clearly outlined the exponential nature of this kind of technological change.1 Meaning that our projections of emerging AI should not follow a mindset of small regular improvements, but that of a snowball effect. This trend has already played out in the development of AI up to this point. Initial theorization and experimentation with the basic concepts behind today’s top AI models started in 1949 with Donald Hebb.2 Here we are over seventy five years later quickly passing many tipping points. Yet regardless of if these technologies ever reach the mythical level of Hal 9000 (or not) the overall trajectory and pace of change is clear.
The Human Response
All of us have a certain capacity to healthily cope with change, but if our great grandparents, and grandparents struggled to adapt to the rate of technological change in their lifetime (from car to moon landing), this problem is set to be unimaginably worse in ours and our children’s generation. Even the companies developing these technologies do not always seem to have a clear picture of what they are building, or why.
Consequently, this burgeoning era of technology has brought with it an explosion in philosophies and attitudes used to approach AI. On one end we hear of proponents arguing for the grandiose emergence of AI sentience and AGI (Artificial General Intelligence). While on the other end a human centric approach sees AI as yet another tool to magnify data and augment human intelligence, productivity, and discovery.
Still others caution of danger for humans that “offload” and subsequently loose basic capabilities like critical thinking, reading, and writing. Which is a fair warning, since it doesn’t matter if AI is truly smart or not if humans willingly surrender to it as an unquestioned source of information (i.e. “let’s ask google”). Or completely outsource formative practices like reading and writing.
Still others go even farther and picture the world as a burning heap run over by evil robots, or the collapse of job markets, or the destruction of land and resources by oversized datacenters. AI from this perspective is about as close to a trumpet of the apocalypse as possible.
The future from these various perspectives are wildly different. One approach imagines a world where human workers are by and large replaced by AI agents. While the other imagines AI as a trusty partner. The apocalyptic scenario is easily floated around as well. Yet no matter one’s chosen approach, picturing human flourishing in the midst of this new world relies on underlying assumptions of what a human is, and what humans should be doing.
To Be Human
A major foundation for what makes humans human has traditionally been a list of unique human abilities. Whether that be reason, art, language, etc. Humans have an impressive list of things that only we can do in the larger scope of the animal kingdom. A potential side effect of the AI boom is that the list of human abilities that make us unique are positioned to become fewer and fewer. I doubt we are prepared to live as humans in a world where our reason, creativity, and productivity (to name a few) are dwarfed by the sear force of an emerging never sleeping AI. Even if only in perception, this sentiment has and will continue to push people toward growing reliance on AI in one capacity or another.
Imagine for a moment: What would it be like to watch your most prized ability be set aside or “out classed” in as yet unseen ways by the machines around you? How will you maintain a sense of your own humanity? What makes you human even if a machine can do everything “better”?
Not only this, but we live in a world where questions of identity are increasingly subjective and vague. For example, the already overwhelming reality of puberty is made even more difficult with additional “decisions” surrounding sexual orientation, and even “species” as evidenced by the presence of litter boxes in public school bathrooms.
All of these, and many other swirling realities, make answering questions of human anthropology and identity from a Christian (and more specifically Lutheran) perspective more important than ever. These kinds of foundational answers shape our understanding of the world around us in deeply meaningful, yet often subliminal ways.
A real world place this shows up is hearing individuals near death proclaim a stalwart platonic ideal of shedding this prison of flesh in order to float up to heaven. It is often in these deeply liminal moments (like death and birth) that we get glimpses into an individual’s basic assumptions about what it means to be human.
Yet not only during key times do these foundational beliefs bear weight on the path of an individual. Everything we do, including the way we approach theology and practice, are affected by our basic answer to the question of human anthropology. In other words, What are you?
No Going Back
The world we live in does not lend itself as easily as ages past to clean and tidy arguments and frameworks. The air tight perspective of modernity has largely cracked and crumbled under the churning of our postmodern (or post-postmodern) world. Many look back longingly to repristinate the classical perspectives of hopeful progress common before the world wars. That was a world where enlightenment style reason, rights, and liberty promised a limitless and bright future. While such a sure perspective is no doubt attractive, it will no doubt continue to fail as badly as the pacification of Hitler. Going back even father into Lutheran History, the famous disagreement between Rationalist and Pietistic Lutherans in the late 1600s shows yet again what constricted perspectives can accomplish (which is nothing good). Therefore, a monolithic and “clean” definition of the world and humanity has been seen to fail miserably and is an unfit hope for the future.
However, the fluidity of postmodern thought places humans in an equally vulnerable position as we enter another age. As we see evidenced by the continued fracturing and polarizing atmosphere of the world. Afterall, the lose of any sense of universal truth leaves the question of what makes us human completely unanswerable. What is left is unending subjectivity and inner chaos that has become characteristic of many. To put it another way, modern society (especially modern Christians) cannot, nor should not, try to go back to the human philosophies of the 1600 to 1800s. Nor can we stay in the flood of postmodernism without drowning in the rising tides of our world. We must look for a completely different foundation if we hope to maintain a sense of our humanity.
Further thoughts on this can be found in: Making Sense of Our Moment in History and Emerging (Reemerging) World Pictures
Yet losing our sense of humanity has been a danger in every era. Each new moment in history simply plays out our same selfish sins in a different set of clothes. Just think of all the child labor working the great turn of the century industrial lines - some kind of progress that was! Even so, maintaining a sense of our humanity is all the more pressing today as our era couples a rapid rate of technological change, and cultural obfuscation of human identity to create a recipe for mass confusion and disillusionment. All this to say:
We live in a world moving too fast and in too many directions for anyone to catch a breath. As we meet more and more people gasping for air because of this. What will we tell them?
What Makes Me Human?
This is a question that has been looking for an answer since sin shattered the human creature. Yet it is a question that observes a kind of universal need (at some level) to explain and explore the constitution of our human experience. Which is ironic since every one of us experiences being human every single day. Yet defining ourselves is maddeningly complex - and simple - all at the same time.
This seems to explain the main move many schools of thought make in describing the human creature. Rather than take on the impossible task of explaining all facets of humanity, why not seek after the “essence” of what makes us human? Since after all, we do share many commonalities with animals. Why not narrow the search to things that make us distinct?
In this quest, many seats of human essence have been elucidated. The Platonic soul trumping the evil flesh. The Enlightenment mind overcoming lesser superstitions and emotions. The Romantic’s love and self-conviction burning a true path through conventions and restrictions. The Pietist’s reliance on a holy attitude and way of life. The Hedonist’s surrender to any and every bodily urge. The list goes on and has filled many books and lectures. Yet, no matter the school, all attempts to describe humanity in this way seek to find a primary driver around which to build a perspective of humanity.
A Human Essence?
To get a sense of this variety and commonality, let us walk through three examples. The first of which is the famous philosophy of René Descartes. “I think, therefore I am.” This ubiquitous phrase cleanly sums up his reliance on human reason as the core of being.3
In contrast, the work of Frank Senn returns to a model of embodiment. Senn summarizes his perspective by citing the work of Pope John Paul II: “I do not have a body, I am a body.”4 From this perspective, the human creature is defined primarily through the lens of embodiment. This perspective has an eye toward a more holistic approach but still reduces the essence of a human person down to a body. This is true even to the extent that mental state is primarily attributed to bodily state.
Finally, the work of James K. A. Smith pushes for a more expansive model. Yet still conceptualizes the human creature as formed and oriented by a core of desire or as he summarizes it: “I am What I Love.”5 This slightly shifts away from defining humanity based on the executive function of a particular element, yet it still defines a general primary driver.
As can be seen, despite their differences, all of these perspectives attempt to organize the human creature around a singular center of gravity. While both Senn and Smith are concerned to avoid the reductionism of other philosophies, they nonetheless still come back to locating the human creature within a kind of “essence.”
This no doubt offers a cleaner framework and sense of security by narrowing one’s philosophical focus. However, they still suffer from the inability to adequately address the true complexities of life. In other words, the major problem with these approaches is found in their constriction of definition. In attempting to find a conceptually sound and reasonable framework, each perspective more or less jettisons unhelpful aspects of the human person. Descartes disposes of all but reason, Senn more or less diminishes any “unembodied” elements of a person, and Smith is almost there but still dismisses much of the complexity between human reason, emotion, etc. in favor of placing desire as the primary driver.
A Costly Oversimplification
As we have seen, the quest for a primary driver, or “essence” of humanity, has produced many definitions of the human creature. The unfortunate outgrowth of each approach’s confidence in their identified seat of “power” (for lack of a better term) is that adherents begin to think of themselves, and others, in terms of a mere subset of our constitution. In other words, in attempting to understand who and what we are, we end up sketching caricatures rather than the vibrant reality. By defining a unilateral center, we excluded the importance and integration of other parts of the human person.
The untenability of these reductions can be seen all throughout our daily life. For example, all of us have experience being “driven” by different aspects of our being. Reacting in an emotionally charged situation is very different from a calm discussion over tea. From moment to moment, we may be more or less driven by any part of our being. Emotions, our body’s physical state, mental reasoning, memory, etc. all weave together to form our experience of each and every moment. Therefore, to say that any one part of the human creature can be unequivocally identified as a primary driver is to flatten and do away with the variety of our lived experience.
A simple case study in this is sleep deprivation (a physical state). Anyone who is a parent (or finds themselves sleep deprived for other reasons) knows that this singular environmental factor deeply affects everything from patience levels to thinking speed. Yet one would scarcely argue that sleep is a comprehensive human driver. Instead, a more comprehensive approach that can acknowledge the multifactor nature of human existence and motivation is needed.
The Mechanistic Universe
Even if we grant the above points, the reductionism of western thought is more deeply rooted than we may like to admit. The Philosopher/Architect Christopher Alexander lays out a fascinating explanation of this systemic reductionism penetrating all the way to our understanding of the universe and ultimately human anthropology. He argues that Descartes, Postmodernism, and much of Western thinking all share a mechanistic explanation of the universe. What this means is that the universe is viewed as something like a great clock (a mechanism) that ticks on by itself without any direct outside intervention.
Having this common foundation, the differences between western perspectives is not as great as may be presented on the surface. All of these varying perspectives debate our ability to perceive and interact with the universe, but the core of what makes up the universe stays the same across them all. What this ends up meaning is that the key to understanding anything from the mechanistic perspective is to carefully break it down into the various mechanisms that “make it go.” Whether those mechanism are internal, external, consistent, inconsistent, etc., the foundational assumption is that the world around us can be accurately described through the mechanisms at work within a system (be that a human, ecosystem, country, etc.).6 Remember our friend Joseph Weizenbaum’s warning: “it enslaves the mind that has no other metaphors and few other resources to call on.” If this was a danger with the conceptual mechanism of the computer, how much more so on the cultural scale of understanding everything.
This mechanistic assumption drives us to ever be recording, measuring, and explaining the way things work around us in the hope that adding each piece of knowledge and perception together will one day equal a full understanding of everything in the universe. Scientific inquiry is the most clear example of this premise. The basic logic going something like this: scientists need to keep collecting observations so that they can put them together into theories. These theories can then be combined to build on, or replace old theories. The overall hope is that bit by bit all of this accumulated knowledge will form a comprehensive understanding of the universe.
A Squishy Machine?
We can see how this mechanistic perspective has been applied to Humans in the form of modern medicine. Just about every tiny piece of the human body has its own specialized doctor (even down to a retina specialist!). This has been generally motivated by the overarching conviction that if every little tiny part of the body can be studied, understood, and treated, then full health and wellness will be in reach. While this approach has achieve many incredible feats of physical healing, it is worth noting that there are cracks in the facade.
To be clear, this is not to say that scientific research, or mechanistic inquiry, is evil in and of itself. The specifics of how things work mechanistically can (and will always be) a worth while pursuit of science. However, as a comprehensive picture of the universe, the mechanistic worldview leaves us with an understanding of ourselves as little more than machines. That is where the real problem lies. Every machine runs off of a set of mechanisms. If the engine stops, so does the machine. Therefore even life itself becomes conceptualized as a kind of biproduct from a squishy machine.
This type of language and self-understanding has deeply pervaded our thinking in ways not always conscious. Brains are easily equated to computers, digestive systems equated to an engine, etc. Health and wellness plans often operate from this perspective as well. If I can just get all the mechanics of my mind and body to work right, then I should have a happy and fulfilling life. Right? As simple and straightforward as this may seem, this wholesale reliance on the mechanics of our body and mind leave us with an empty picture of humanity. We become unreliable and broken down machines always in constant need of maintenance. The purpose of life quickly devolving into a mad rat race to maintain equilibrium. An equilibrium that always ends up going down hill in the end…
Other than being depressing, the main problem with this kind of reliance on the mechanistic worldview is that if you adhere to even a few bad mechanisms, your picture of the whole can get very distorted. An example of this is the very literal application of Darwinian Evolution by Nazi Social Darwinists. As it turns out (surprise surprise) survival of the fittest is not a kind moral axiom - nor a worth while social foundation.
While extreme examples of misappropriated mechanisms may be easy to spot subjectively for the common observer. There is no actual foundation within the mechanistic perspective by which to make moral judgments. The only real judgement that can be objectively made about a mechanism is if it works or not. Which is impossible to know until you have tried it. This commitment to “try and see” has doomed whole generations to deal with the consequences of their predecessors’ experiments (think of colonial era colonialization or the early industrial revolution, both very effective mechanics but not very humane).
Even as Christians, we often operate with this same assumption. The world is running by its laws and physics and God “breaks into” things now and again. Yet the daily, moment by moment, participation and perceptible reality of God is often left in church. Therefore, the primary mover in the world around us is perceived to be non-personal mechanisms. This contrasts sharply with pre-enlightenment perspectives all the way back as far as written memory records. Whether Greek, Persian, Jewish, etc. the world had more to it than just the lifeless turning of a machine.
What if breaking humans down into composite parts, or obsessing over the innerworkings of this piece or that, is not the most productive or faithful way forward? In a world where machines are increasingly being made in our image, how do we perceive even a glimmer of God’s image in ourselves? Are we truly just squishy broken down machines? Destined to be outclassed by our own technological creations? Or is there another approach to express the constitution of a human person?
Breaking the Mental Mold
The thing about deeply ingrained cultural and anthropological perspectives is that it often takes philosophy or poetry to break through our mental ruts. Over the remainder of this discussion, we will appeal to both philosophy and poetry as tools to dig out of the mechanical perspective within which we are all embedded.
First up is philosophy. Christopher Alexander posited an alternative perspective to the mechanistic worldview. He proposed completely flipping the direction of our common approach to the universe. Rather than seeking to put together our understanding like an erector set, he speaks in terms of “the wholeness.” From this perspective, to understand a human, we must first start with ״the wholeness” of humanity as a huge global entity.
He defines wholeness as the overall cohesiveness and interrelated nature of everything. For example, a building (he was an architect after all) functions as a whole. Missing a roof, or doors, or plumbing affects the ability of the whole to operate. Even the earth functions as a whole. Humans, as participant in this whole, effect it but are also affected by the environment in which we live. We are not unattached, but are to a certain extent influenced and contingent on our environment.
In Alexander’s more philosophical terms:
Nature of Order, Bk 1., p. 81
the wholeness in any part of space is the structure defined by all the various coherent entities that exist in that part of space, and the way these entities are nested in and overlap each other.
A metaphor that can help picture this difference is to think of two frogs. One is alive, whole, and hopping around a pond. The other is split open and pinned to a board in a laboratory.
Which frog gives you a better understanding of what a frog really is?
The dissected frog can teach you a lot about the mechanics of how a frog works internally. But if that perspective is the totality of your understanding and experience of a frog, you will never have a good idea about what a frog is like, or how it sounds, or where it lives. Nor will you understand any of the other things that makes a frog “a frog” as a whole created creature. Therefore, the mechanistic worldview is found deeply wanting for clarity and comprehensiveness.
Christopher Alexander continues from here to develop his philosophy in very interesting ways (not all of which are helpful to a biblical understanding of the world). For our purposes, however, that does not really matter. We have considered him as a brief alternative to the prevailing mechanistic perspective. He has helped us picture the possibility of another way. Now we are ready to return to the pages of Scripture with new eyes.
Starting from the Ground Up (Literally)
Now we turn to poetry. More specifically, Biblical Poetry to reorient and approach our core question once again. What does it mean to be human? As we have been grappling for an answer, we have seen many pitfalls in attempts to understand humanity. Many books and ponderings have been posited in this effort to track down the “essence” of our human constitution. But as we noted previously, such efforts always end up becoming reductionistic and flat. Likewise, even the supposed expansion to see humans as a collection of mechanisms and processes leaves out and tamps down the full-bodied earthiness of being human.
What then is the alternative? How does a broader perspective avoid becoming convoluted, or paralyzed, by the sheer volume of the human experience?
The Making of a Nephesh
Scripture uses a variety of metaphors and images to describe humans and our relationship with the world and God. However, none is as foundational as the description of humanity found in Genesis chapter 2. The forming of the man from dirt lays the foundation for our self-understanding in a way that is metaphoric, poetic, historically accurate, and tangible all at once.
Genesis 2:7 (ESV)
Then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.
This picture puts forward a simple yet deeply engaging picture of what makes up a human being. The “equation” if you will goes like this:
(Dust + Breath) Formed by God = A Living Creature, or in Hebrew a “Nephesh”
This pictures humanity as made up of two foundation elements: dust and breath. Both of which are brought together by the power of the Creator to make a full living nephesh.
The Breath of the Spirit
The word breath, breath of life, and Spirit are all the same Hebrew word: Ruah רוּח. This continuity ties together many aspects of the creation stories in Genesis 1 and 2. The hovering Spirit over the uncreated waters, God breathing life into all creatures, as well as into human beings are all brought about by this same Spirit. In short, all the work of the Spirit and God’s breath of life hold together in the same person of the Trinity.
This speaks to a profoundly simple connection point between our human constitution and God. Breathing is a profoundly normal, ordinary, and physical thing, yet it is also the constant reminder of where our life comes from and how close God’s sustaining hand dwells with us. For all the complexity and inner depths of our inner being, our spirits are first identified in the simple act of breathing. When breathing stops, so does our life.
This shift should change our approach to God entirely. Rather than being sucked into the ego centricity of the world. Or assume that I am the product of a million unnamed cogs and wheels. I can approach God like many before me:
Psalm 39:5 (ESV)
Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath!
Clay in the Hands of the Potter
Now that we have briefly addressed the breath, next is the dirt. An aspect we should seek to remember as our frame:
Psalm 103:13-14 (ESV)
As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.
This is the second basic reality of what it is to be human. We are an earthen vessel formed in the hands or our maker. It is right for us to confess with Abraham: “I who am but dust and ashes”(Gen 18:27, ESV). That remembrance of our earthen nature is much more than an acknowledgment of our mortality. It is the proper positioning of ourselves within God’s created order. Until I am willing to admit that I am a mud man, I will always invent grand pictures of what makes me human apart from the power of God.
The verb of Genesis 2:7 “to form” continues this picture of a potter forming clay. This same human self-understanding then spills throughout all the pages of Scripture. Born out in places like the words of Isaiah:
Isaiah 64:8 (ESV)
O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.
Being formed from the earth means that at once we are literally and physically (but also metaphorically) clay in the hand of our potter. This is a profoundly different starting place than modern philosophical perspectives pursue.
If we picture ourselves as an earthen vessel. We will begin to ask a lot of different questions about ourselves like: What are you carrying inside yourself? How are you being formed? What is your purpose as it has been given to you?
Therefore, the foundation of our human understanding should not be defined by the new and shiny technologies we create in our image. Rather it should be hooked back to the originator - the Creator - the One Who makes and breaths and shakes. Your existence is tied to the work of God immediately and in inseparable ways. God is instrumental in literally every breath and every moment.
Further contemplations of this can be found in: The Theology of Dirt
Incarnational Hope
Many have (and no doubt will continue to) run away from this grounded nature of our being. With the influence of Platonic philosophy deep in the bones of western culture. We often assume that the basic division of the universe is between things that are material and immaterial. Applied to humans this often means thinking in terms of our Body (material) and Soul (immaterial). This distinction often gets forces onto biblical descriptions of the world and humanity without much argument. It is also read into biblical texts that sounds similar enough. One example is Colossians 2:11 when Paul talks about putting off the flesh. This is then taken as a description of getting rid of the body. Rather than keeping it in its immediate context of describing our baptismal life in Christ.
Another place Plato creeps into our reading of Scripture is within the Psalms. We already ran into our nephesh (נֶ֫פֶשׁ) in Gen 2:7. But in the Psalms it occurs an additional 144 times over 68 Psalms (that is a decent chunk of 150). Out of those occurrences the ESV translates nephesh as soul 95 times (the rest being things like “me,” “I,” or “life,” etc.). Yet how easily the immaterial soul of Plato gets slapped into these verses rather than thinking of the our mud and breath! Think about the difference this distinction makes in just one example:
Psalm 42:1 (ESV)
As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God.
If this is only my disembodied soul, then this desire for God can be thought of as just some internal wanting. But if “soul” is my nephesh (which it is). Than this means my whole body and spirit together are longing for God in a tangible and physically embodied way that will never be fully expressed only interiorly.
Paul clearly disqualifies Plato and his platonic dualism in 2 Corinthians 5 (which also sounds a lot like Psalm 42):
2 Corinthians 5:4 (ESV)
For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed
The Hebrew language itself does a poor job of dividing the world along Plato’s lines. For example, a dead body is described in Leviticus 22:4 and Haggai 2:13 as a טְמֵא־נֶפֶשׁ (tamé-néphesh) or basically a “dead nephesh.” In literal English, this would equate to saying something like a “dead soul.” That description does not even begin to fit within the platonic frame.
What all this means is that Scripture does not fundamentally describe humanity as a physical body and an immaterial soul, but as a unified Earthen-Spirit. Neither side is more important nor can they be separated without the death of the being. This is true of all living things, not just humans, as described in Psalm 104:
Psalm 104:29-30 (ESV)
When you hide your face, they are dismayed; when you take away their breath, they die and return to their dust. When you send forth your Spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the ground.
Close your eyes and bring the basic metaphor into view as best as you can. See the lump of clay and the spinning wheel. The hands that are forming and the smell of the earthen clay. In a world where we more often hear or speak of ourselves doing things like downloading, or recharging, it may seem strange to see yourself in such a simple picture. But stick with it and see what comes forward.
This self-understanding may seem strange, but it brings up the reality that without a body humans are not whole. You can find this picture of humanity in Gen 3:14, Gen 18:27, Job 10:8-9, Isaiah 45:9, Jeremiah 18:6, and 2 Corinthians 4:7 to name just a few. The idea of our spirit floating free is not a restful one, but a terrible unraveling.
In order to truly orient our self-understanding around the metaphor of a spirit-filled-earthen vessel, we must divide the world according to Scripture and not Plato. There is no clean break between the spirit and the body. A body without a spirit is dead and a spirit without a body is returned to the Creator who gave it. The primary actor and definer of life is not some self contained soul. It is the power of the creator to make and end life according to His will.
Zechariah 12 (ESV)
Thus declares the Lord, who stretched out the heavens and founded the earth and formed the spirit of man within him
What this means for us as humans is that the foundational division should not be physical and non-physical. Rather it should be internal and external. For it is in the paring and mixing together of dust and spirit that we arise as human creatures in the first place.
It would indeed be nice to dismiss the reality of hardships in this world in order to access some better ethereal plane. But this self-therapeutic move drains our true hope from the incarnation of Jesus! In the words of Athanasius, our earthen bodies are the very humble way Jesus chose to redeem everything:
Athanasius, On the Incarnation, para. 9-10
For the solidarity of mankind is such that, by virtue of the Word’s indwelling in a single human body, the corruption which goes with death has lost its power over all. You know how it is when some great king enters a large city and dwells in one of its houses; because of his dwelling in that single house, the whole city is honored, and enemies and robbers cease to molest it. Even so is it with the King of all; He has come into our country and dwelt in one body amidst the many, and in consequence the designs of the enemy against mankind have been foiled and the corruption of death, which formerly held them in its power, has simply ceased to be. For the human race would have perished utterly had not the Lord and Savior of all, the Son of God, come among us to put an end to death. This great work was, indeed, supremely worthy of the goodness of God. A king who has founded a city, so far from neglecting it when through the carelessness of the inhabitants it is attacked by robbers, avenges it and saves it from destruction, having regard rather to his own honor than to the people’s neglect. Much more, then, the Word of the All-good Father was not unmindful of the human race that He had called to be; but rather, by the offering of His own body He abolished the death which they had incurred, and corrected their neglect by His own teaching. Thus by His own power He restored the whole nature of man.
The very core of our faith in salvation and resurrection are antithetical to the breaking up of the human creature. Our true hope in Christ is to one day inhabit body and spirit it in its most alive and eternal form. Just as Jesus already does in His resurrected and glorified body.
A Whole Nephesh
Unlike the anthropologies which seek a singular primary driver, the perspective we have begun to conceptualize sees the human person as an altogether complex, messy, and at many points mysterious creature. Rather than seeking to diminish perplexing parts of human experience, this perspective welcomes them. For it is only through the core picture of humans as a spirit-filled-earthen-vessel that we begin to rightly place all other internal and external experiences.
In other words, this vessel anthropology defines a human not as differentiated by a particular primary driver, nor composed of discreet mechanisms, but as the interrelation and overlapping of formed earth and divine breath. All subsequent smaller parts, or aspects, of humanity must always be filtered through this foundational lens.
To put it more bluntly, Emotions by themselves do not make up a human, nor does Reason. Even a Body alone is not a human. Just as a frog on the dissection table is no longer living, so too are elements of a human when treated in utter isolation. Even one missing or malfunctioning aspect of the human creature leaves us marred and broken. This perspective is quickly supported by even the most basic structures of the human body itself. For example, one missing chromosome is enough to deeply affect a person in ways scientists still do not fully understand.
Granted, dividing a human into parts can be helpful for identifying and talking about specific aspects of the human experience. Yet the overarching picture of what we are helps us realize that the lines between individual parts are more blurry than we often admit. For instance, where exactly do my rational thoughts and emotional reactions begin and end? I know they are different but they can also be very similar. This is especially true in moments of high stress when their difference can be all but imperceivable.
When we look inside the jar of our being, we do not always understand everything we perceive and experience. Be that emotions, thoughts, desires, memories, or something else that wanders through our consciousness. Acknowledging this ambiguity is honest about our everyday lived experiences as well as matching the manner in which Scripture describes humanity.
The vessel perspective gives us the core picture of how Scripture teaches us to see ourselves and the framework with which to test other ideas. It gives us a foundation from which to address questions surrounding the meaning and purpose of our lives.
This holds true even when considering if a human is made up of “heart, soul, mind, and strength,” or is “spirit, soul, and body. ”All of these should be brought in line to be seen as further expressions of this foundational understanding.
Yet so often alternative anthropological bases belittle or disqualify this Scriptural metaphor because it does not address their chosen primary driver. For example, reason and rational thought are not the core driving principle of a spirit-filled-earthen-vessel. Yet over and over Scripture proves the insufficiency of human reason. Nor is desire put forward as a stable foundation in places like James 1:15 or Jeremiah 17:9. In fact, it is often against and in spite of the logical rejections or desires of humans that God is accomplishing the beautiful construction of His people. The third petition of the Lord’s Prayer firmly roots us within the humbled orientation we should seek. But still humans cling to reason, desire, or almost anything else as the core defining attribute over and against the foundation of a vessel anthropology.
Deuteronomy 6:4-9, Psalm 1 and the Psalms in general, the parables of Jesus, Romans 12:4-5, Galatians 5:22-23, 1 Peter 2:4-5, and the book of Revelation are but a handful of Scriptures that work from this foundation to continue to outline a whole host of metaphors through which to further picture the meaning and purpose of our human existence. Yet every single one of these metaphors must be connected back to the core picture of a spirit-filled-earthen-vessel. Only then can we begin to see the full and compelling perspective of Scripture. Without this core foundation, we will quickly become tossed and debased by the winds of our time. Left to always ask the question: What am I? But never find a living answer.
Footnotes
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Oliveira, A. (2017). The Exponential Nature of Technology. In The Digital Mind: How Science is Redefining Humanity (pp. 3-18). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Retrieved from https://doi.org/10.7551/mitpress/9780262036030.003.0002 on 29 February 2024. ↩
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Oliveira, A. (2017). The Exponential Nature of Technology. In The Digital Mind: How Science is Redefining Humanity (pp. 3-18). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Retrieved from https://doi.org/10.7551/mitpress/9780262036030.003.0002 on 29 February 2024. ↩
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Watson, R. A.. “René Descartes.” Encyclopedia Britannica, February 7, 2024. Retrieved from https://www.britannica.com/biography/Rene-Descartes on 4 March 2024. ↩
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Senn, F. (2016). Embodied liturgy: lessons in Christian ritual. Retrieved from https://archive.org/details/embodiedliturgyl0000senn/ on 4 March 2024. ↩
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Smith, S. (2009). Desiring the kingdom : worship, worldview, and cultural formation. Retrieved from https://archive.org/details/desiringkingdomw0000smit/ on 4 March 2024. ↩
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Nature of Order Bk. 1, Christopher Alexander ↩