Human meat, human soul…

A message forwarded last night threatened to ruin my sleep.  It was a pictorial depiction of alleged cannibalism of an African by some Asians, complete with all details, of both the dismembering, the cooking and the eating.  There was the added glee of the alleged perpetrators in the photographs.

The mail and photos is one of the most gruesome ones you are likely to see, though I’ve probably seen worse.  At the end, it did not disturb my sleep, perhaps because I succeeded in forgetting about it.  But it did affect me, in many ways.  On the one hand, was the realization that man is not much different from an animal.  Behind the flesh is blood and in the midst of all that are bones.  If I find someone willing to eat me, there would then not be much difference between me and the steak or mutton I take on my dinner plate.  True, but not complete.

Although it did cross my mind at this point of the mental process to understand why vegetarians hate meat so much, I’m not about to give up the practice.

I also felt an awareness of my frailty as a human being and then a temptation to despair.  If I am all flesh, blood and meat, what is this life all about?  What is the end of this existence, seeing that not much make me different from the animal: dog (I don’t eat that!), cow, goat, etc?

As happens in such moments of passion, reason takes back seat, but thank God (yes Him!), I quickly recovered my senses to realize that while the animal may be my ‘cousin’ as far as flesh and bones are concerned, I have a supernatural soul and the animal does not.  Sure it has an animal soul (which is not eternal but is destroyed at death), but God has wanted to make me (man) [and women for those who wish political correctness] in his own Image and Likeness, and this ‘likeness’ is chiefly in my soul.  My soul is immortal.

In that sense, I recovered my peace.

I am not just human meat, flesh and bone, though I am all of that.  I have something to look forward to, and in looking forward to it, I have something for which to live – and live in a way that will please the landlord of the future spiritual home to which I aspire.

Not so depressing after all.

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