“Now we see through a glass, darkly. But then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know, even as I am known.” 1 Corinthians 13:12
In c. AD 51, during his second missionary voyage, history records that St. Paul founded a church in Corinth. While he was staying in Ephesus, between AD 55 and 57, he is thought to have written 1 Corinthians.
The standard analysis of this Scriptural verse is that while we are in our mortal state, we have only a flawed understanding and knowledge of God. However, upon our death, we will experience the antithesis, a direct, face-to-face knowledge.
I am indebted to Stephen Beale, whose article in the Catholic Exchange was helpful in terms of my understanding of this Scripture.
Upon a first reading of this verse, one might think that the word “through” implies a glass window. That takes us to an explication of “glass” and “darkly.” The word for “glass” in the original Greek, esoptron, is translated “ancient mirror,” which establishes that the “glass” is what was formerly known as a “looking glass,” and today, a “mirror.” The fact that it is ancient suggests that an image would not be an exact replication but somewhat distorted.
The original Greek word for “darkly” is ainigma, which it is etymologically tied to the English word “enigma.” If we paraphrase a juxtaposition of the Greek translations of those words, we have a “distorted mirror which creates an enigma.”
In many important respects, that does reflect what might charitably be called our imperfect knowledge of God. More candidly, although Scripture provides a plethora of analogies, metaphors, and helpful suggestions, we are ultimately left with a startling fact: the strength of our belief in God rests on the spiritual bridge we call faith. That bridge is itself made sturdy by grace and the resilience of hope: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 1:1, emphasis added [EA hereafter]) Despite the fact that St. Paul’s statement seems to present an unpleasant conundrum, i.e., that while we are locked in our mortal prison, we are innately incapable of knowing God, there is reason to consider a more encouraging interpretation.
We know from Genesis 1:27 that God created man in His own image, and we see in the previous verse (1:26) that he included the notion of His “likeness,” resulting in our common phrase, “the image and likeness of God.” We can use those words as rhetorical placeholders for “ancient mirror” and “enigma,” i.e., “mirror” and “darkly.”
In his work, De Trinitate, St. Augustine grappled with this Scriptural verse. In his analysis, what we see when we look at the mirror is not merely ourselves. To fully grasp the spiritual import, Augustine begins by asserting that our souls contain the triune God, that is the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Therefore, when we are looking at the mirror, our own image is clear, but in terms of God, we must use a likeness, but as God is inherent in our soul, in truth, we are seeing God.
This is the reason we can—and should—conclude that although we cannot experience God in this life, our journey from “this, our exile” to finally seeing our God is materially accelerated due to our faith. As C.S. Lewis wrote in The Weight of Glory, “…you have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry…”. (EA)
So, we can take spiritual solace when we glimpse ourselves in the flawed mirror of our mortality because with our Lord’s grace, we have boldly crossed the bridge of faith, and in our image is that of our God, sacredly dwelling in the heart of our soul. In truth, “darkly” is not the “enigma” of the original Greek. That is why we should “see through a glass, brightly.”
Philip E. Mella