Merging Humanity and Spirituality

One of the struggles in the quest to merge humanity and spirituality is the differing desires harbored by each.

My humanity is by its nature selfish. It is mostly concerned with self-preservation and pleasure. The human experience is one that, when untamed, morphs into pure and unadulterated hedonism.

Then there is the spirituality to which many of us aspire, yet fail to obtain. My spiritual nature is (by its nature) unselfish. It is mostly concerned with the will of God, the needs of others, self-sacrifice, and the greatest good in each situation.

The conflict between my spirituality and humanity is inevitable. Intellectually, it is easy to assent to the greater benefits of spirituality. Yet, emotionally, our humanity crouches at the door ready to spring on any such absurd notion.

The Desert Fathers chose to deal with such a struggle by forsaking all vestiges of pleasure and retreating to forsaken places and engaging in mortification of the flesh. This was done in an attempt to restrain human desires, bring them into submission and ultimately destroy them altogether.

I find such action impractical and somewhat needless. We are human. There are certain traits that come with the cloak of humanity. My capacity to have desires is not evil. The object of my desire is what makes my desire either good or evil.

Yet, I cannot completely discount the Desert Fathers. Perhaps their quest was propelled by a fear that others (including me) share. I fear that one day my doubts and questions will turn into unbelief and I may walk away from that which I now hold sacred. Such a proposition is chilling to consider and it becomes transparent as to why such a fear can motivate people to taking such radical action as living a monastic lifestyle, or even more extreme, emulating the Desert Fathers.

The words from my Grandfather's Bible speak to me, "O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" Or as someone else has put it, "I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question?" (Romans 7:24)

The dark room begins to obscure the print on the page I am reading and then the moonlight shines through as I begin to close the Bible. It is then that I see it. There is another verse. Here is how it reads, "The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different." (Romans 7:25)