“What is the meaning of life?” “What is my purpose?” “What impact can I make on the world?” “Will I leave a lasting legacy?” These profound questions, in essence, all converge on a single, fundamental inquiry: Why Am I Here? This question isn’t confined to a specific age or stage of life; it resurfaces in various guises throughout our journey. As children, it might manifest as “What will I be when I grow up?” In our youth, it transforms into “What should I study or pursue as a career?” And as we mature, it may evolve into “Am I content with the path I’ve chosen and the life I’ve built?” In its diverse forms, this question arguably stands as the most pervasive and deeply felt in human existence.
Sometimes, this question emerges during moments of crisis or profound disillusionment. Indeed, some of the answers offered to this question are stark and disheartening. Consider Samuel Beckett’s minimalist play, Breath. Lasting a mere 35 seconds, it begins in darkness, followed by the cry of a newborn, a slow inhale accompanied by a gradual brightening of lights to reveal a stage strewn with garbage. Then, a slow exhale, the lights dimming back to darkness, a final cry, and silence. Beckett’s message is starkly nihilistic: life is meaningless, fleeting, and ultimately, like garbage. For Beckett, individual lives lack inherent purpose.
However, most of us instinctively reject Beckett’s bleak outlook. We sense that life transcends mere biological existence and survival. Yet, Beckett’s play, as a metaphor, offers a powerful starting point for exploring the very question, “Why am I here?”
Drawing on another dramatic metaphor, William Shakespeare famously wrote, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances” (As You Like It). Viewing ourselves as actors on a global stage, performing the script of our lives, provides a valuable perspective – it highlights the significance and relevance of a larger narrative in shaping our individual roles.
Every compelling play unfolds a story, a plot that imbues a series of events with meaning. Stories have beginnings, middles, and ends, often driven by conflict or tension that the characters must navigate and resolve. Contemporary philosophers, theologians, and psychologists increasingly recognize the crucial role of narrative in human life. Consciously or unconsciously, we weave the disparate events and experiences of our lives into a coherent and meaningful narrative. We reflect on our past, identifying cause and effect – “If I hadn’t attended that university, I wouldn’t have met my partner,” or “If we hadn’t moved to this city, our lives would be very different.” This act of narrativizing, of constructing a story from the seemingly random threads of our lives, is how we derive meaning and purpose. We all live within the context of a larger story, whether we realize it or not.
The Bible, in its grand sweep, presents a comprehensive narrative, a “big story” that offers a framework for understanding our lives and answering the question, “Why am I here?” Theologian N.T. Wright proposes that the Bible can be understood as a five-act play (The New Testament and the People of God, 1992). Expanding on Wright’s concept, Richard Middleton and Brian Walsh articulate a six-act structure in Truth is Stranger Than It Used to Be (1995). These six acts can be summarized to provide a powerful lens through which to view our existence:
Act 1: Creation. God brings forth a world of beauty and perfect harmony, characterized by unity in diversity and loving, interdependent relationships. Humanity, both male and female, is created to exist in loving communion with God and to act as God’s representatives, fostering loving relationships within the world.
Act 2: Alienation. This idyllic state is disrupted. Humanity, swayed by a way of life opposed to God, chooses to usurp God’s role, seeking to be God rather than content with their human place. This choice shatters the world’s harmony, transforming interdependent relationships into oppressive and dominating power dynamics. By attempting to play God to the world and to each other, humans distort their relationship with both God and the environment. Alienation, not love, becomes the defining characteristic of human relationships.
Act 3: Reconciliation, Part I. God does not abandon humanity to its self-destructive path. Instead, God initiates a plan of reconciliation, seeking to heal the alienation we have created. In this plan, God invites human cooperation, beginning with Abraham and Sarah. Through them, God establishes the nation of Israel, tasked with bringing healing, restoration, and reconciliation to the world on God’s behalf.
Act 4: Reconciliation, Part II. God’s reconciliation project reaches its pivotal point. God enters the narrative directly, becoming incarnate in Jesus Christ. Christ’s death on the cross becomes the ultimate act of forgiveness and reconciliation for the world.
Act 6: Renewed Creation. In the final act, God’s project of reconciliation is completed. All of creation – humanity, animals, and the natural world – is restored to harmonious coexistence. Broken relationships are healed, and everyone once again fulfills their intended roles in the drama of life, living in loving interdependence. However, this final act, in a crucial sense, is not an ending but a new beginning.
These themes – Creation, Alienation, Reconciliation, and Renewal – may resonate with previous explorations of fundamental questions: “Who am I?”, “Where am I?”, and “What’s wrong?”. You may also notice the absence of Act 5. This is deliberate. Act 5 is unfinished; it is the act we are currently living and writing.
The film Dead Poets Society (1989) portrays John Keating, an unconventional English teacher who challenges the students at a traditional New England prep school in the 1950s. In a memorable scene, Keating, played by Robin Williams, recites Walt Whitman’s poem to his captivated students: “O me! O life! . . . of the questions of these recurring; Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities filled with the foolish; What good amid these, O me, O life?” Keating continues, offering the poem’s answer: “Answer: That you are here—that life exists, and identity; That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.” As the weight of these words settles, Keating challenges his students, “And what will your verse be?”
“That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse” encapsulates the invitation extended to Christians, those who orient their lives within the biblical narrative. We are invited to contribute to the ongoing script, the unfolding drama not only of our individual lives but of the world and the human story. N.T. Wright uses an insightful analogy: imagine discovering a lost play by Shakespeare, missing only Act 5. How could it be completed? One approach would be to gather leading Shakespearean actors and immerse them in the existing acts, 1 through 4 and Act 6, until the play’s themes, values, and vision become ingrained. These actors, deeply understanding the play’s essence, could then improvise Act 5, ensuring their improvisation remains faithful to the preceding acts and logically connects to the concluding Act 6.
Similarly, we are called to live Act 5, to improvise our lives in a way that is consistent with the narrative laid out in the Bible, contributing our unique “verse” to the grand story of God’s reconciliation and the coming renewed creation. Our purpose, then, is not simply to exist, but to actively participate in this ongoing drama, playing our part in God’s redemptive plan and contributing to a world moving towards harmony, justice, and love.
