What We Set Before Us Shapes Our Soul

I have set the Lord always before me.—Psalm 16:8

Convictions arise from two sources: emergency and experience. A ship striking rock produces instant conviction of danger. But conviction of a man's worth matures slowly through lived experience. Belief is merely conviction's germ; faith in fruition requires time. The psalmist's declaration represents such matured conviction, anchoring the entire Psalm.

What we continually behold shapes us profoundly. A picture deemed unsuitable for children's rooms—Herodias with John the Baptist's head, or a mother murdering her infant—teaches us that we unconsciously absorb what familiarity permits. Medieval churches did not merely indulge idolatry when filled with images. The visitor to St. Mark's in Venice follows the catechumen's path: entering through a vestibule of Old Testament history in mosaic, then reading walls and domes depicting crucifixion, resurrection, baptism of the Spirit, and Christ's coming to judgment—all arranged in Christian sequence. The peasant crossing Lucerne's wooden bridge daily encountered painted compartments reminding him of that stream all must cross.

Nature marks character. Gloomy, savage surroundings impart somber tones to inhabitants. Men narrow or broaden according to daily tasks. The accountant perpetually before columns of figures risks degenerating into mere calculation. What stands continually before our eyes—whether Adonai or lesser things—inevitably shapes our becoming.