Inherent Worth

There is a scene in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – arguably the most important scene of the film/book – wherein Aslan, the “King of the Wood”, the great lion, offers himself to the White Witch as a sacrifice in the place of a traitor. In Narnia, the magic that brought the world into being has rules and codes. Under this, the White Witch is always owed the blood of the traitor. Aslan offers his life as a substitute. Right before the witch kills him, she bends down and says,

“You know, Aslan – I’m a little disappointed in you. Did you honestly think that by all this you could save the human traitor? You are giving me your life and saving no one. So much for love.”

Aslan dies. The laughter of the witch and her followers grows louder. They abandon his body and head off to war.

A battle scene rages for some time until the film cuts back to the aftermath of Aslan’s death. As two of the title characters, Lucy and Susan, walk away from Aslan’s lifeless body, the earth shakes, the stone table Aslan lay on breaks in half and the Lion appears alive and whole.

In explanation, Aslan states,

“…though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she had looked further back, into the stillness and darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards.”

I kind of feel like I’ve been dancing on my own stone table recently. It’s been a rough few weeks.

I’m 37 weeks pregnant – so everything hurts and sleep is an illusive angel that barely touches me as she grazes by.

2 weeks ago I sent a client to the ER for suicidal ideation – an active plan and thoughts for ways in which to successfully kill oneself.

This week I sent another client to the ER for homicidal ideation – thoughts and plans about how to successfully kill someone else.

Teenagers.

Wonderful, beautiful, magnificent human beings. Little girls who have been tortured by the world’s capacity for pain and evil.

They don’t see what I see. The mirrors they look into reflect a distorted reality.

“Why Jen?” I’ve been asked. “Why do you keep trying? There’s no point with me.”

“It’s never going to work.”

“I don’t deserve to be happy.”

“I’m not worth it.”

“I screwed up – it’s my fault. I deserve this.”

I look them in the eyes and try to say,
“This is how I see the world: that each and every human being, from the very moment of their birth, to the very moment of their death, no matter their gender, race, culture, age or language; no matter what they’ve done for good or bad or whether they are conscience of it or not; indwells within them inherent worth simply for being human.”

“This is how I see the world: that this inherent worth provides meaning and purpose to all lives and the capacity for change, for transformation and for healing.”

“This is how I see the world: so while you may stop believing in yourself, I refuse to stop believing in your possibility. I choose to see what could be.”

Sometimes they zone out after I say this – it is kind of a strange concept. A little discomforting and awkward. An unusual thing to say. A harder thing to believe.

This is what I don’t say,
I look further back than just our individual births, just our individual beginnings-of-time. I believe in imago dei – that we are each created in the image of God, that God has mysteriously and wonderously imparted a piece of himself into each of us, from before time began. (Genesis 1:27.)

I believe that God created us and saw us as good. (Genesis 1:31)

And I believe that God is Good – as  distinguished from “safe” or “nice” or “soft” – He is a Lion, who can rule and can sacrifice, who never changes, never backs down, always chooses us, especially when we are traitors. God has a “deeper magic.”

I believe that Imago Dei has no exceptions.

Let me say that again.

Imago Dei HAS NO EXCEPTIONS.

Me. You. My client who wants to die. My client who battles with aggression. All of my clients before and after this day. The baby in my belly. The traitor in any story.

We are all covered under “deeper magic.” Death itself can be turned on it’s head.

Deeper magic never runs out. I don’t have to worry about my capacity or yours. We are imago dei. We will never run out of possibility. No exceptions.