What does it mean to be human? That is an unnecessarily vague question with a multitude of answers, but a few things may come to mind: to have a body, to have a soul, to be created by God, to seek truth, to believe. We might also define humanity by its problems: We get sick, we make mistakes, we hurt each other, we hurt ourselves. We are flawed in any number of ways.
Last year I somewhat unintentionally started a C.S. Lewis book club in my parish. It originated when a friend and fellow parishioner mentioned that she would like to begin reading Lewis for the first time, as our pastor is very fond of quoting and referencing him.