In my last post, I mentioned the shadow. Specifically, I said in regard to my seminar in Greece, I learned to find comfort in “integrating my shadow.” As I’ve reflected on this the last few days, I realized I accidentally sent myself into a realm of confusion. What is this shadow side of life, and why am I inclined to embrace it?
It is such a commonly used word, shadow, packed to the brim with meanings and interpretations. For those drawn to psychology, it means the unconscious, repressed parts of our brains. For theologians, of course, the term is so debatable that it can push people into contention. We’ll even look at two differing depictions in the Wisdom literature.
Given that my work primarily relies on literary criticism, this certainly informs my understanding of the shadow. As you can expect by now, I will be approaching the topic primarily through the lens of Ecclesiastes. In a way, this of course brings a bias that I want to be upfront about at the onset.
A Shadow: We all Have One
What is the dark figure of your silhouette on the ground? I don’t pose this question for a simple “um… my shadow” response. I mean what is it to you. Is it your reflection? Does it mirror your every move or do you sometimes question its intentions? Better yet, are you afraid of it?
My swim coach answer is don’t. My behavioral health answer is “embrace your broken parts.” But my theological answer, I imagine what you are reading this for, is a bit more nuanced.
For starters, and much to nobody’s surprise, I do not believe the shadow is bad. I believe it is a necessary part of us, even if the two entities appear separate. And just because something is dark or lacks color does not mean it is evil or bad. It means it is honest.
This section title says everyone has a shadow. This is irrefutable. But, in theology, humans are not the only ones with shadows. In the wisdom literature, we get to explore this theology of the shadow.
Psalm 91
As a homeschooled kid, my curriculum was—for better or worse—different. One of my favorite stories in my reading classes was that of Jim Elliot. I learned not too long ago that many people do not know of the Elliots.
In Protestant Christianity, they are saints. Jim Elliot was one of five missionaries killed during Operation Auca, an attempt to evangelize the Waorani people of Ecuador, murdered for their witness. I am unsure how I feel of this story in my postcolonial era, but it is indeed beautiful.
The story is told in many books, primarily by Jim Elliot’s wife, the late Elisabeth Elliot. The first book she wrote is called The Shadow of the Almighty; perhaps her most well-known, however, is Through Gates of Splendor.
Elisabeth Elliot not only wrote numerous books, but also witnessed to the same people her husband attempted to reach. Her impact in missions, and even the translation of the NIV (which admittedly makes me skeptical), are deeply profound.
Why am I mentioning this story? Missionaries? In conversation with shadows? Because my first exposure to Psalm 91:1 came via Elisabeth Elliot and the first book I mentioned. It thus locked in the beautiful imagery of this psalm for me. When I reflect on the theological significance of the shadow, it is impossible for me not to recall her work.
God’s shadow, unlike most of the actual depictions of God in the Hebrew Bible, is not a bad place to be. In fact, it is quite desirable. For the Psalmist, the “Shadow of the Almighty” is a place of security and refuge. Framed another way, it is the place where the Psalmist finds shelter from the ills and grievances of life.
You who live in the shelter of the Most High,
who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,
will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress;
my God, in whom I trust.” Psalm 91:1-2, NRSVue
Ecclesiastes and the Shadow Side of Life
While the Psalmist offers a shadow of protection, Qoheleth offers a shadow of reality.
The common conservative interpretation of Ecclesiastes is that its author (held to be Solomon in this case) realized all his lust and pride were vain, as with everything else in the natural order, so his only place of comfort is in the shadow of the Almighty. In short: life sucks, God is great.
My research essentially exists to dispel this broad interpretation. I find it is a great disservice to this literary masterpiece.
Qoheleth considers anything and everything hebel. He does not say once “this too is NOT hebel.” Everything in God’s creation is hebel—vanity, meaningless, futility.
That does not mean everything is bad. That means we lose far too much when we swap this word in for our English replacements. We lose the ambiguity and replace the shadow with darkness.
Furthermore, we cannot ignore the carpe diem philosophy the Teacher presents. Qoheleth does not tell us to spend our lives operating under a legalistic framework; he invites us to seize the day—to eat, drink, and be merry. In short, my understanding of Ecclesiastes is: life sucks, so find a way to enjoy it.
“For who knows what is good for mortals while they live the few days of their vain life, which they pass like a shadow? For who can tell them what will be after them under the sun?” Ecc. 6:1
Conclusion: Wearing the Shadow
“You will take me there
And we’ll leave it all behind
Will you take me where
Shadows can’t find”
~ Haste the Day, “Shadow“
These lyrics are from another Christian metal band, Haste the Day. Much of Christian metal informs my thinking. Unlike most Christian music, it is not “worship.” There is worship metal, which is abhorrent, but Christian metal often deals with deeper philosophical/theological issues, leaving room for interpretation versus “Turn to JESUSSS.” Yikes.
“Shadow” was one of the songs on repeat for me in Greece. Why? Because for me, at least in my time there, it was a place where “shadows can’t find.” They cannot find because they have been integrated.
I’ve worn my shadow longer than I can imagine. There are very few articles of clothing in my possession with any amount of color. I’m a guy who wears eyeliner. I do not hide my “nerd” of theology, horror, or metal.
But there is a difference between wearing your shadow as a jacket versus your skin. Integration happens when you no longer care that it will appear dark or strange to others; you embrace it because it is part of you. As such, it is you. It isn’t something that can be forced to fit. I thought I had been wearing mine my whole life.
I suppose that is just the difference between thinking and knowing.