Thursday, April 2, 2015

Archetypes and Christ

Today I awoke with archetypes on my mind. Vivid dreams, I guess.  The word "archetype" comes from the Greek meaning "origin" and "model:" a first form.  Apparently, Carl Jung argued that the root of an archetype is the "collective unconscious" of mankind.  I like that idea.

I was pondering how beauty and archetype collide.  Is a mountain range beautiful to us because we instinctively react to the spectacle with a desire to endure and reach a figurative summit?

Why does the sight of a stag stir us so? Its proud beauty has often been a symbol of set-apart-ness which brings to mind an austere holiness.

And water. The sound of spring water tumbling over rocks is so soothing.  And I believe it is lovely because it stabs us unconsciously that water brings refreshment and renewal, cleansing and cooling. Our souls thirst. Thundering ocean waves evoke larger visions. Always changing (the tides) and yet unchanging: vast, merciless, timeless.


Spring itself is always beautiful to us after the quiet stillness of winter.  The frivolity and fecundity of spring is joy and youthfulness and hope and heart in a way that could never be saccharine.

The universality of these thoughts are a pointer to me of a God who keeps his promises and a Christ who wants to be known to us.  Of course, arguing the existence of God/gods because of beauty has been a philosophic rationalization at least as far back as Plato.  I just personally love a God dressed in beauty and archetype: The Suffering Servant, The Sacrificial Victim, The Living Water, The Holy One, The King of Glory, The Bridegroom. Divine Providence revealed himself in a story: a myth that really happened. And our "collective unconscious" recognizes him.