Separation and Freedom

 Trouble and anguish have come upon me, Yet Your commandments are my delight. (Psalm 119:143)

          If you know me, you know I don’t deal well with “Thou shalt.” Some people are more flexible, more cooperative. I can be flexible and cooperative, if you approach me the right way, and if you give me time to turn “Thou shalt” into “I shalt,” but if the pronoun says “thou” then you have an uphill battle against a fort with very thick walls. So when the composer says “Your commandments are my delight” my initial reaction is to choke on the words. “Not my will, but Thine be done”? “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, in my life (on Earth) as it is in heaven”? Those are challenging prayers.

          In Soul-Keeper, John Ortberg writes about another book: The Honest Truth About Dishonesty: How We Lie to Everyone, by Dan Ariely. In it, Mr. Ariely concludes that we have two general motivations. We want what we want and are willing to lie, cheat, etc., to get it. We also want to view ourselves as being good people. This produces a conflict, a separation within us – one for which we must somehow justify ourselves, or risk losing something dear to us (either the things we want, or our self-image as a good person.) I’m not a glutton, but I want that treat. Uh oh.

          One of the things I discovered when I lost weight 20 years ago is that coming to the point where I could say, “I’m fat” (a form of “I’m not a good person”) was when I was able to do something about it. And when I can’t say it, or when I can’t say I’m a glutton, or when I say, “I’m a victim here!” I can’t. I can’t act in conflict with myself. It tears me apart and sends the parts in opposite directions.

          We tell ourselves that we aren’t hurting anyone…much…who doesn’t deserve it. If we’re hurting ourselves, well, that’s our business. But the truth is that we can’t be separated from ourselves without then separating ourselves from others, because we can’t keep looking good to ourselves if others are pointing out that we’re doing something harmful to ourselves. We can’t even keep looking good to ourselves if there’s a chance they might not agree.

          What’s ironic is that we celebrate the one who stops doing something harmful. Have you ever heard people say that someone who has fought alcoholism, or addiction or some other bad thing in their life is a fool who is ruining his/her life by trying to overcome the addiction or bad thing? We might not like the vehemence with which they speak against a thing we don’t see as a problem for us, but I can’t even imagine a group of friends and family seeking the assistance of some professional to intervene in the life of a loved one because the loved one isn’t drinking enough alcohol, or using drugs enough, or abusing a spouse or children or pets enough.

          We celebrate those who overcome these things that tear them and their families apart. But we want what we want, and it doesn’t matter if it’s not good for us. Either we don’t have a problem, or what we have isn’t a problem, or – if it is a problem we have it under control. And if we clearly don’t have it under control, then, well, we’re the victims, so pity us and give us what we no longer want, but need.

          The thing is, God’s commandments aren’t like that. God’s commandments require, demand, impose, and work against what we want, but they work to prevent the want from becoming a need. The principles of Scripture are freeing, not restricting.