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The organ of emotion

 

Is it okay to admit to being fully supportive of masking but at the same time being a little bummed out by it? It is unquestionably the right thing for us to be doing, but I miss seeing people’s faces. Yes, we’re able to make do – we can sometimes recognise a smile from the lift of the cheeks or the crinkles around the eyes, but not being able to see someone’s face does feel like a loss. It’s critically important to promote the public health benefits of masking, but it’s important also to, at the same time, acknowledge that we will need to recalibrate our expectations of interpersonal interactions outside of the home. Masking, while being a tiny sacrifice for a massive benefit, is also changing something fundamental to how we perceive one another. The face has been referred to as the “organ of emotion”. It helps us read the other and, in turn, be read. Our eyes, nose and mouth are those first probes we send out into the universe to gather data, sort the signal from the noise, and represent ourselves to the unknown. We can be attracted, instantly, to someone by a quick glance at their face. Conversely, we can be turned off, troubled, or frightened by a facial expression. The importance of the face cannot be overstated. All that being said, the scriptures show us that there are times when we won’t get to see the faces we’d like to, and that delaying that gratification can be for our own lasting benefit. In the Hebrew scriptures we find the story of Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness. We read of their frustration and impatience, leading to the forsaking of their God to fashion an idol, the golden calf. After this episode, the future of the Israelite community was uncertain, and Moses, seeking reassurance, sought the face of God. But the Lord said, “You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.” Moses, as it turns out, was only shown the Lord’s back, and was sheltered from the Lord’s face in the cleft of a rock. I wonder if Moses was disappointed, even though he was denied the face of the Lord for his own good? But Moses being sheltered and denied was not the end of the story. When Moses went before his people after encountering the Lord, his face was radiant with God’s glory – to the extent that the people were afraid. Then, for their own good, one would assume, he chose to put a veil over his face. The spark of the divine was present to Moses and imparted to Moses, and he was able to shine it on to others in the holy messages he conveyed to the people from the Lord. But, incredibly, it was all done with a kind of masking and social distance. There have been times, like it was with Moses, when being denied the sight of a face, or covering one’s own face, has been necessary, and the world hasn’t stopped spinning because of it. In fact, in the Christian tradition, Jesus of Nazareth – who, simply put, is God with a human face – is himself not able to be seen by the faithful. Seeing the divine organ of emotion has, for 2000 years, been relegated to the prayerful piety of the mind’s eye. So, yes, in religious practice, interpersonal interactions are important, but Jesus himself, in his present, but invisible, way of being, shows us that times without face-to-face fellowship do not minimise the reality of the divine-human encounter. Perhaps this can be an encouragement to us as we come to terms with this new way of encountering one another. The face, and our reading of it, is undeniably important, but we are capable of adaptation. We can, and must, learn to mask up for the good of our neighbour, and in doing so, also learn that even if slightly veiled, togetherness is still possible, and that it can even be glorious. Who knows, this new way of doing things might even give us some insight into the mysterious hiddenness of God in our lives •

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