Living from Desire
February 15, 2009
ConneXions Remix: Living from Desire
Facilitator: Marc
Someone once gave John Eldredge a piece of advice:
“Don’t ask what the world needs, ask what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is men and women, who have come alive.”
It changed the course of his life. He went from sitting in a cubical in Washington, D.C. to entering into the healing ministry of Jesus Christ. He is now a best-selling author, speaker, teacher, and counselor. He sets captive hearts free for a living. He loves his life. And the Kingdom is better for it.
Frederick Beuchner writes:
“The place where God calls you is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
God wants to awaken desire within you. “May he give you the desire of your heart and fulfill all your purpose”, says David in Psalms. 20:4
And yet most of us run the Christian race more out of a sense of duty than desire. Right?
Here’s an image to illustrate this more vividly:
You may remember the movie Chariots of Fire? It won an Academy Award for best picture in the 1980’s. The film contrasts the lives of two men.
The Protagonist is Eric Liddell, a Christian, a very passionate man and a very fast man. He loves to run. He runs from the pure desire to run.
The Antagonist is Harold Abrahams, a Jew, a very driven man (which is not quite the same thing as passion). Abrahams is also very fast, but he runs for a very different reason. He runs out of a deep sense of obligation–to his coach, his family name, his people. He runs out of duty. He runs from the Law.
Liddell runs because that’s what Liddell does. He is free. Free to run. Free not to run. His sister is unhappy with his choice to go to the Olympics, because Liddell is an ordained minster and his place is with his flock. But Liddell says, “Jenny, I believe the Lord made me for a purpose. He also made me fast. And when I run, I feel God’s pleasure.”
In contrast, when Abrahams’ girlfriend asks him why he runs, Abrahams replies, “I use it as a weapon.”
“Against what”, she asks?
“Against being Jewish”, he says through clinched teeth.
Liddell and Abrahams become arch rivals and all the world gathers at the Paris 1924 Olympics to watch them face off in the 100m dash.
But when Liddell learns that the race is on Sunday–a day he spends with God–he declines to run. He is free. Free to run. Free not to run. Abrahams can’t understand this. And Abrahams goes on to win a hollow victory in the 100m without the satisfaction of beating Liddell.
Abrahams sulks. He packs away his Gold medal, ignores the praise of his teammates, and spends a sullen evening drinking alone with his coach. Bloodshot and conflicted. He cannot celebrate his success.
Liddell’s teammates are extremely disappointed that Liddell didn’t run–because they love to see him run. It is a compelling thing to see a heart set free, living in its passion. So, one of his teammates gives up his spot in the 400m (a race held on Thursday) so Liddell can run. And the film comes to its climax.
Tension is high. The 400m is not Liddell’s event. He’s a sprinter. He hasn’t trained for this. And he is exhausted. He has already run two other races that day for the UK relay team. And yet. And yet…
Exhausted but somehow filled up, Eric Liddell throws his head back, breaths in the Spirit, and runs the race of his life. He wins the 1924 Olympics for the UK and sets an Olympic record that will last 30 years. True story.
The film leaves you with two visions of success. Abrahams, the burdened runner, weighed down by obligation, running under the Law. And Liddell, who runs from grace, from the happiness and freedom of God.
Intuitively, we know the power of desire. But since it’s Valentine’s Day, let me give you another picture:
It’s the happy couple’s 25th anniversary. The table is set, candles lit. And the guy brings home 25 roses, one for every year of married bliss. He presents them to his wife and she blushes. She tears up. She can barely squeak out a “thank you”. But alas, he puts up his hand and says, “twas but my duty, dear.”
Oh man. Can’t you hear the buzzer going off! Or the gong. Or someone yelling, “you’re the weakest link!” C’mon ladies. Help me out. Why should this guy be thrown into the Lake of Fire?
Because no woman wants to be the object of a man’s duty! She wants to be the object of his desire.
Likewise, God doesn’t want to be the object of our duty. But the object of our desire. In A.W. Tozer’s words, “God waits to be wanted.”
At this point, you may be saying, “OK fine. Desire has its place. But what about all the people who destroy themselves with desire? People whose desires lead them into addiction and bondage rather than freedom? Doesn’t that prove that what we really need is more duty and less desire?”
Fair question.
It may be helpful to think of our desires like the keys of a piano. The keys themselves aren’t bad, but the music they produce can vary widely, from big to small to discordant to blue, and in extreme cases, to silence. It depends.
God is playing an Opus somewhere deep in your soul, a siren song that piques your desire and calls you up and outward into a larger story.
But you also have an Enemy. And his job is to distract you with little ditties, tiny tunes, small stories–approximations of desire.
C.S. Lewis puts it this way:
“Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward in the Gospel, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in the slums because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
If we are to honor the desires He placed within us, we must listen harder for them–not stop up our ears and call it holiness.
And this calls for wisdom. But who will show us how it is done?
The writer of Hebrews says, “since we are set in that race, let us fix our eyes on Jesus.” Why? Because somehow, he is going to show us how it is done. Look at his life. How did he do it? How did he live with such freedom of heart? He’s beholden to no one! The man is genuinely free. He loves deeply. He laughs. He cries. He’s fierce. He’s gentle. He tells good stories. And then he gives his life freely. Free to run. Free not to run.
How did he live like that? The secret of Jesus’ life is Desire. You cannot look at Jesus’ life and say he was half-hearted, that he really wasn’t into it, that he came just because the Father told him to. I mean can you really imagine him saying, “alright look, I’m here, I’ll just go through the motions, I’ll do the right thing, but my heart’s just not in it”? Is that the Biblical Jesus? Can you imagine Him going through the last week of his life, his passion week, without his heart?
Eric Liddell runs because he can’t help it. Jesus lives with passion because it’s who he is. Jesus’ life–and the life he offers–is not a cool and distant head trip.
In fact, the only way you are going to get through your own suffering, while living and loving well, is to do it like Jesus did. From the heart.
If you start with the outside, it’s hard to get to the inside. If you start with the Law, with pressure and obligation, it’s very hard to generate enthusiasm. You wind up doing the right things for the wrong reasons, winning hollow victories, feeling bloodshot and conflicted, unable to celebrate your life, or anyone else’s. Especially anyone else’s.
The story of the Prodigal Son illustrates this in scandalous detail. Luke 15:11-32.
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
21“The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.[a]‘
22“But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.
25“Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
28“The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’
31” ‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ “
Can you imagine what this story sounded like to the Pharisees? What a rebuke. It undermined their whole power base of guilt and condescension, their cult of duty.
Actually, it terrified them. Underneath their flushed faces was a stomach-lurching vertigo. Deep down they knew Jesus was speaking truth–truth without the comforting strictures of rabbinical tradition–and it freaked them out. Jesus was celebrating a kind of freedom and desire that sounded too much like chaos. It was disruptive spiritual technology. No wonder they wanted to kill him. It literally came down to Him versus them. Either He would have to die. Or something within them would have to die.
I think we all know who met the more tragic end. And it wasn’t Jesus. He lived and continues to live from His heart’s desire. He walked among us. He threw his head back, breathed in the Spirit, and ran the race he came to run– because it was his deep gladness to do so. In his own words:
“I have come that they might have life, and have it to the full.”
“I have come to bind up the broken hearted, to set the captives free, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor…”
God grant that we find more, not less of our heart’s desires along this winding way we call the Christian walk. And as we pick up speed, may we find faithful running mates who inspire us with their passion, instead of tiring us with their grim determination.
If you enjoyed this material, you should know that much of it was hijacked from John Eldredge’s Desire Conference, 2000. There’s so much more where this came from. And you can download it FREE from the iTunes store! Highly recommended.
If you enjoyed this post, be sure to read the rest from this author. Marc is a local writer, musician, and physician. He is a regular contributor to ConneXions and has written reviews for Spectrum: Adventist Forum. He loves words and music, windsurfing, and going on adventures with Janine and the kids.(Read more from this author) 
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Marc,
This was a good topic. Thank you for the detailed summary. I’m sorry I could not be there. I think it is interesting to explore the conflict between desire and duty. The challenge for each of us to find that what we are passionate about and to be in balance with that passion and our duties in balance and equilibrium.
This will be a good stepping stone into next weeks topic on the conflict between selfishness and selflessness. Selfishness often is considered the act of pursuing ones desires. Selflessness, the act of giving or doing for others is sometimes the result of duty and not desire. Where is the balance point? How can we fullfill our desire without being selfish? How can we give selflessly of ourselves and still satisfy our desires?
I received this comment via email from a friend in CA:
“I needed to be reminded of this again. I think it’s important that whatever it is that makes you come alive — that it feeds your soul in the process. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately as I try and figure out who I am, my new role as a dad, and what I want my daughter to learn from the example that I set.
I admire the people who seemed to have discovered their passion and pursue it with purpose. I wish this was an easier process. I’ve struggled with the process of defining my purpose, values, and identity for a while now. The seem to fluid and difficult to nail down. It would be easier if your Purpose arrived via FedEx one day and you could open it up and know what your life was supposed to be about. Mine seems to be arriving via carrier pigeon from a far off land.”
I can totally identify with your purpose arriving via carrier pigeon from some distant land. I think most men, if not women can identify.
The big trouble for me, and I can only guess for you too, is how to combine desire with responsibility. Financial responsibility. Right?
I keep trying to think of my calling and career in the same sentence. And because I can’t figure out exactly what that is supposed to look like, I do a half-hearted job at both.
So what I’ve been doing lately, because I can, is to simply ignore money. Not everyone can do that. And I may not always be able to. But for now, it’s working for me. I have scaled back my medical practice. And have poured most of my energy into things that give energy back–my family, music, and ministry.
Sometimes I get scared; I get palpitations. Because I see my income eroding. All I can do is redouble my trust in God’s call on my life. I am convicted that he is trying to break me of my dependence on myself, my own ability to provide, my materialistic streak.
So I think it’s safe to say we can pray for each other, because to a certain extent this is every man’s battle. Every man who has a heart trying to be born…
Your brother,
Marc
[...] can help you perform, especially when the performance is hard, when the going gets tough. Look at Abrahams from Chariots of Fire. He won a gold medal in the 1924 Olympics out of keen sense of duty to his [...]