Hand-made, Home-made Soul
When I was a kid in church I was taught that my soul was invisible, immaterial, insubstantial, and incorporeal — all adjectives of nothingness. At the same time it was a divine presence. God shot it into my body at birth from his dwelling place in the heavens above, out there beyond the clouds, beyond the stratosphere where the airplanes travel. No wonder it felt cold. Outer-space cold.
“Soul” is used to mean so many things — essential self, transcendent spirit, deepest calling, driving passion, anchoring force, what makes you you, that something that survives death.
But I use it to mean just one thing. My soul is my deeply personal, daily practice of moral decision-making.
My soul is not divine, it’s mine. Day by day I’m making it what it is.
And given that we’re developmental beings, why should our souls be static? Why shouldn’t they be developmental, too?
Oh, and let me make it clear, when I use the word “moral,” I’m not talking about righteous, judgmental condemnation, that kind of ugliness. I’m talking about mutual nurturance and mutual advocacy, which are my very favorite things.
So even though my soul is personal, it’s not solo. It’s a social soul, because my relationships with other people are at the center of my concerns.
I use “soul” as a nickname for what’s deepest in my heart. And this is not just another pretty phrase, because that deepest place is my place of moral labor.
Sometimes I tell myself, “I choose to live by what’s deepest in my heart instead of by what’s deepest in my genes.” This makes no sense biologically because our genes generate our hearts and everything else we are. Yet the distinction works for me. I believe evolution is driving us into extinction, but it designed us so it’s possible for us to do the most amazing thing — oppose our source, which is itself.
Here’s how I see it now. Human DNA is two biological strands of protein nucleotides plus one virtual strand of moral imagination. Our twist of grace.
It’s because we’re moral beings that we can make of love something that transcends the default evolution has given us. Instead of inching along, getting incrementally better at conventional love, we get to take a leap. We get to play big. We get to upgrade love. We get to fiercen it up. And in doing so, we’re able to love ourselves way better than evolution has ever loved us.
