Desire
Day One
The other day I was sitting at a diner reading scripture. I was reading the Old Testament prophet Isaiah. Here are the words that caught my attention: Isaiah 55:1-2: “Listen to me, listen well. Why do you spend who you are on stuff like that when you could be so much more?”
As I sat there, two things filled my imagination: first, I began to think about how we are constantly in search of the thing that will satisfy our cravings. We live in a culture that is hungry, full of yearning. We spend our entire lives starving and searching for that one thing that will take away our hunger. The problem is that we try to satisfy this hunger and thirst with things that leave us ever hungry and thirsty. I sat there in that café thinking about this dilemma and Isaiah’s words seemed to leap off the page: words written hundreds and hundreds of years ago but maybe written for me, for now: “Listen to me, listen well. Why do you spend who you are on stuff like that when you could be so much more?” (Isaiah 55:1-2)
As I sat there, I began to imagine what it would be like if Isaiah, the Old Prophet, was not simply an historical figure accessible only through the printed page but was sitting on the other side of the table, saying these words to a real person in our time. This is what I think I heard as I sat there and “listened” to the conversation between this Old Prophet and this very contemporary, hungry person:
When I looked up from the book I was reading, I saw the old man approaching me: he had snow-white hair, a time-worn face, and thick, dark-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. This one had an aura about him and I instinctively shrunk back and buried myself in my book, trying to avoid eye contact. But I knew he was standing there at my table so I looked up. He asked if he could sit down. What could I say without seeming rude…so I motioned to the chair across from me.
Putting his cup of coffee down, he slid into the chair across from me. He didn’t say anything…just cupped his coffee in both hands and slowly sipped it. To tell you the truth I was getting a little uncomfortable…an old man I didn’t know who asked to sit with me but didn’t speak! As I sat there, the awkwardness I was feeling seemed to grow thicker by the moment and I was carefully checking him out from the corner of my eye. After a few moments, I began to notice his eyes. They seemed to see everything—not just stuff in front of him, but everything, if you know what I mean. They seemed to bore right into me; they seemed to see what was inside of me. I was getting a little uncomfortable with those two 20/20 lasers focused on me, looking like they were reading my heart and my thoughts, so I started to get up to leave. But before I could push away from the table where we were sitting, he said softly, “Not so satisfied with your life, are you?”
In spite of myself, I replied, “Me? Not satisfied? Are you kidding?”
He didn’t say anything in response, just kept looking at me, and the silence started to get to me.
So, I protested again: “No, really; everything’s great in my life.
Look at my diploma: I’ve got a degree from a prestigious university.” I always carry it with me, everywhere I go, so I pulled out my diploma from that prestigious university and slid it across the table for him to examine.
Look at my position: I’ve got a corner office, with windows, and a credenza full of awards.
Look at what I’ve got: I told him about my car, my gated community, and my club.”
And I went on, explaining in some detail and with some gusto why my life was so great.
There was some silence between us, and then softly the old prophet asked, “What are you getting from all of that? Is that corner office speaking to the deep stuff in your life? That alumni letter from that university, is that convincing you of your worth? That TV, the one you spend more time watching in mindless boredom than you want to admit, is that TV speaking to you?” And he asked a few more questions like that.
I was a bit shocked, to tell you the truth. I thought he had a lot of nerve; I mean, he didn’t even know me, and here he was making judgments about me like he knew me. I was gathering my thoughts, and getting ready to make a profound response, something like “Where do you get off asking me stuff like that?” when he just smiled a very small smile and said softly, “Didn’t think all of that was working so well for you.” Then with an intensity I’m not sure I’ve heard in a human voice, he said this to me: “Listen to me, listen well. Why do you spend who you are on stuff like that when you could be so much more?” (Isaiah 55:1-2)
I was trying to let that sink in, but he wasn’t stopping. He was getting animated now, and he leaned across the table and asked, “Ever hear of Bernhard of Clairvaux? He was a seer; lived a long time ago. In his time, people faced the same issues: spending their life on stuff that didn’t satisfy them.” He reached into a bag I hadn’t noticed, pulled out an old journal, opened it to a page, and slid it across the table. “Here,” he said. “Read this; Bernhard wrote this in the 12th century.”
I read the words…they seemed to jump off the page as I read them:
“God alone can satisfy our desires…A well-dressed person wants more expensive clothes. A rich person envies anyone richer than himself. You can find men who already own farms and have great possessions, still striving, day in and day out, to add another field to their estates. They remodel homes already fit for kings. See their restless ambition for promotion and honors. The reason why there is never any relaxing end to all this gathering and climbing is because none of these objects can be considered the highest or the best. It is not very intelligent to desire what can never satisfy. While enjoying wealth, you keep searching for something you still lack. You run back and forth from one pleasure to another, getting tired, but never satisfied. Who can own everything? Whatever you cling to, you are surely going to lose one day. You are running down a twisting road and you will die before you reach the end of it. Eventually, we will come to say, ‘Whom have I in heaven but thee and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee.”
Now I was engaged and without thinking I responded: “Yeah, I know what he means. There’s an American guy, a billionaire I was reading about the other night. Someone asked him how much he needed to be satisfied, and he said, ‘Just a little bit more.’”
Well, the Old Prophet was ready to leave, and as he was gathering his things, he looked at me and asked a question that unsettled me: “Want to be like that billionaire? Are you satisfied with being like that?”
That Old Prophet had stirred something in me that I hadn’t even known was there when I walked into that diner that morning. I was a bit shaken, a little off my game, and I said before I could even think, “No, I’m not; that’s not who I am; that’s not who I want to be. What do I do?”
The Old Disturber was on his feet by this time, but before he left, he looked down at me and asked, “You have heard of Jesus, haven’t you? Here’s what he said, ‘You’re deeply blessed if you hunger and thirst; you will be filled.’ (Matthew 5:6) Don’t just accept the easy answers that our culture says about what’s necessary for real life. Let yourself feel down here, in your gut, some real dissatisfaction with the usual answers.”
Well, the story is imaginary; but the dilemma is deeply real and ever-present: we can so easily, in the press of life and under the influence of surrounding culture, forget our primal desire for an experience of God. But just because we may forget it…or misplace it…does not mean we don’t possess desire for a relationship with God so real it is as two friends speaking to one another about the most important things. Getting in touch with this desire is a critical starting place in the adventurous and bold journey that leads to discovery of intimacy with God in our lives.