MY DEEPEST DESIRE
Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote a book, The Cost of Discipleship, while imprisoned by the Nazis during World War II, and eventually paid the ultimate price when they executed him. He knew, more so than most, the things we say about and offer to God must become more than mere words we nod our ascent to. What does it mean to share the sufferings of Christ? To conform to his death? To no longer live, not as yourself, but as Christ living in you? You see, I prayed for such things, not comprehending the depths of their reality, what they would require of me, how little of it I could actually control once set in motion, and what such things would look like. I continue to wonder sometimes whether I've made a terrible mistake.
Of the folks I've shared my aspirations with, none believe I'm on the right track. The most supportive believe the aspiration is sound, but the radical way I define the goal is unhealthy and ultimately destructive. Mildly unsupportive is the acknowledgement I've requested something noble, but impossible to fully realize. Somewhat less supportive folks say I already have what I need - that the aspiration is unnecessary. Finally, the least supportive consider me entirely off-base and engaging in a dangerous enterprise that can never possibly succeed because the aspiration itself is an exercise in foolishness. All these people fear this pursuit to no longer live, "not I, but Christ in me," may ultimately lead to intractable ruin. I confess I share their same fear, their same doubt, and have no evidence to argue otherwise.
Nevertheless, when I examine my heart - going all the way back to the moment when, as an adolescent, God first stirred it - I cannot, for reasons I can't explain, do anything but long to offer myself - my life, my efforts, my identity - completely to him. He has placed that in me, like a ring on my finger, for better or worse, such that the life I previously built for myself, on my own terms, would never amount to anything but a hollow shell futilely attempting to believe its own lies. I’ve never wanted my own, independent life. I’ve never desired to be my own, separate man.
Fortuitously, my personality has always served to further this desire and, in matter of fact, most likely engendered it. I have always been drawn into relationship as a supporting figure, looking for opportunities to catch fire of someone's dream and help them realize it. I have very few appetites of my own, very little in life that I'm passionate about. I need to be led, be given a vision I can help make real. At the same time, I've been afflicted with a disposition that views most people as a threat. It's very hard to let people in. Only very gradually do I let others into my world. For it is an ugly world I'm afraid, full of all the self-doubt and deprecation indicative of a man who ambivalently plays second fiddle to almost everyone he meets in a world that does not respect this in its men. I fear I do so ambivalently precisely because of this lack of respect.
Despite this difficulty, I believe it possible deep blessing may yet arise from this otherwise pitiful state. While this disposition may not serve me well in society, I pray it might make me well suited to serve as a conduit of Christ - were he to take me fully, completely as his own. All my hopes now rest on him doing exactly that. That’s my aspiration and folly, the reason for my hope and my fear. Folks counsel me that such radical expectation is naive, unrealistic at best and unhealthy or dangerous at worst, but their counsel assumes a reasoned approach. This aspiration isn’t based on human reasoning or wisdom; neither do I pray for this union having carefully considered the possible risks and rewards. I'm compelled by a force inside me that is neither reasonable, nor sensible. I'm driven by an imperative of the soul, from a place deep inside I cannot reason with or control.
However this ends, whatever becomes of me, I can neither resist nor ever hope to deny this force. Its existence is a mystery, and its source mysterious. All I know is that all the suffering I've endured thus far - as well as any I may endure in the future - has not dampened it. In the end, I no longer know of any defensible reason why I long for God in this way. I just know that no matter what I face, no matter what anyone may say, it will not be stilled.