My Glittering Image

I’ve been reading a novel by Susan Howatch called Glittering Images. In the context of the book a “glittering image” is the self that we present to those around us, particularly those we desire to impress. It is the spit-and-polished version of our self, the mask that covers the real us, the one that we know ourself to be and the one that God sees. The real self is covered in warts, bruises, cuts, leprosy and wreaking of rotting flesh at times; full of lies, greed, deceit, lust, wrath and selfishness. It is also, at times, on what most would call “a good day,” capable of compassion, generosity, kindness and love. It is our true self, the good and bad, the self Christ died to redeem. It’s not a stretch to say that Christ came to save us from our glittering image, to show us how to live fully human and alive, to not hide our weaknesses but expose them, to, as Paul says, “boast in our weaknesses,” knowing that Christ’s strength is made perfect there. 

I have a glittering image that I’ve been trying to kill for years. I think he is a ninja, because as soon as I draw my sword to eviscerate him, he disappears into the night. I’ve succeeded in wounding him on occasion, but never fatally. My glittering image is very pretty, wearing a different outfit for every occasion. He is very eloquent, making flowery declarations and promises that my real self isn’t prepared to keep. He is well-mannered most of the time, though, at times, he will shoot his mouth off to irritating parties. He stands above in superiority and intellectual ability, wringing wet with false humility: “No, I only live to serve. All glory to God!” He loves accolades and applause, and is a simpering brat when he doesn’t get any. 

He’s a bastard child; I gave birth to him but I don’t know who conceived him. I don’t know when his birthday is, but he feels old, heavy and bloated. I wish I could ring the death knell on his existence so that I--the real I--could come forth from the grave, like Lazarus, shedding my grave clothes and breathing for the first time again that initial newborn breath of life, scented with the possibilities of a full, complete humanity, a future of hope, lived in grace and alive in the full reality of knowing that I am, at last, once and for all, Me.

shalom, matt