Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote a poem on this very point less than a year before he was executed by the Nazis. Here are a few lines:

Who am I? This man or that other?
Am I then this man today and tomorrow another?
Am I both all at once? An impostor to others,
but to me little more than a whining, despicable weakling?
Does what is in me compare to a vanquished army,
that flees in disorder before a battle already won?
Who am I? They mock me these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, you know me, O God. You know I am yours.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, from the poem, “Who Am I,”
written in prison, June 1944.

Whoever I am, I am yours. It is crucial to hold onto this fundamental reality of our life, because whatever is opposed to God, whether inside us or outside us, will try to deceive us into believing the contrary. The following quotation from Acedia and Me, by Kathleen Norris, offers an example of one form this deception can take:

I appreciate the writer Jeffery Smith’s observation that it is all too easy to succumb to the dangerous notion that only our despair truly knows us as we are, even as it mocks any desire we may have to improve our condition.

Our despair may tell us that we are worthless, that no one who really knew us could love us, that we are mired too deep in sin to be forgiven. Our despair, lying through its blackened teeth, whispers that only its voice tells us the truth about ourselves.

It can be very difficult, when we are feeling the worst about ourselves and about life, to tell this inner voice to shut up.

In fact, a sense of unworthiness before the grandeur and goodness of God is normal.  Consider the experience of Isaiah when God called him (Isaiah 6:1-8) or Peter (Luke 5:1-11).  We are all unworthy of the living and loving God.

But there is a big difference between unworthiness and worthlessness.  A spiritual warning bell should sound when we begin to think we are worthless.  Sometimes, though, our interior noise drowns out the warning of danger, so we have to remind ourselves over and over of the truth.

The truth is that we are of infinite worth, and we are infinitely loved. “You were bought with a price,” Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 6:20. Jesus Christ has paid the ultimate price of his own blood for us.

I may not know myself inside and out, but I can be sure of one thing: I am God’s.

We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves.
If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord;
so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.

(Romans 14:7-8)

For high quality viewing, click on “HQ” (bottom right of frame) after video starts.

Jesu, tibi vivo; Jesu, tibi morior;
Jesu, sive vivo, sive morior, tuus sum.

(Jesus, for you I live; Jesus, for you I die;
Jesus, whether I live or whether I die, I am yours.)

The lyrics are based on Romans 14:7-8:

We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.

I used to think that “Jesu Tibi Vivo” belonged to us, but have recently learned that it is far older than the Cenacle. It dates from the Middle Ages (at least according to one source), and it can be found here and there on the internet — primarily on Italian sites.  In fact, there is a rather remarkable photograph, posted on FlickR by Lyonora, of a young Italian drinking what appears to be an espresso.  On his arm are tattooed the words, “Sive vivo, sive morior, tuus sum”: whether I live or whether I die, I am yours.

Tuus sum: I am yours.

This is the primary, the most basic reality of our human existence. We belong to God who loves us totally and without reserve. We human beings can be confused about who we are in the depth of our being – and who we are called to be.  But one thing is clear. We are God’s, and our life is gift. Tuus sum.

Now saying “I am yours” is different from saying “You are mine.” In the human context, “You are mine,” can be abusive if it is not part of the relational and reciprocal “I am yours.” God in Christ does say to us, “You are mine” (see Isaiah 43, for example); but being claimed in this way by God is freeing, not imprisoning. According to Pope Benedict XVI:

Before we can say “I am yours”, he [Christ] has already told us “I am yours”… With his Incarnation he said: I am yours. And in Baptism he said to me: I am yours. In the Holy Eucharist, he says ever anew: I am yours, so that we may respond: Lord, I am yours…

Address at the opening of the 12th Ordinary General Assembly
of the Synod of Bishops, October 2008.

The Creator of the universe does not call us into an abusive relationship. God does not say “you are mine” as if speaking to a slave, because God also says “I am yours.” As strange as it may sound in a society that tends to idealize autonomy, obedience to God becomes what is most freeing for us. Dwelling in the love of God to whom we belong and whose own love is self-giving, our own limited love may then be transformed into the joyfully self-giving love of Christ.

I am not my own.
I am yours.
In that I find my joy and my peace.

_____

Listen to “Jesu Tibi Vivo,” as sung by Cenacle Sisters.
There are two CDs available on the Cenacle Sisters’ website which offer “Jesu Tibi Vivo” with both Latin and English verses.