Desire: Gift of the Spirit
Dr Joan Timmerman is professor and
former chair in the department of theology at the College of Saint Catherine,
Saint Paul MN, where she began teaching in 1968.
In addition to her undergraduate program, Dr Timmerman teaches graduate
courses in sexuality and spirituality. She
has written extensively on the topic including two books, The Mardi Gras
Syndrome: Rethinking Christian Sexuality, 1984, and Sexuality and
Spiritual Growth, 1992. This
paper was a keynote address at the third ISTI national conference in
Collegeville on 11 June 2000.
I will be working today from the
methods of the humanities, historical research and literary analysis, not from
scientific method. My training and commitment are to the perspective of
theology, put briefly that means affirming the centrality of mystery in human
life. The problem at the end of last century was losing the sense of mystery.
The achievement of the scientific revolution is an invitation to a further
appropriation of the mystical in every aspect of life. The God of Christian
theological reflection is one who is imaged in human being and relationship.
This talk, however, is not the product
of me sitting alone thinking. I firmly believe that to think alone is as
dangerous as to drink alone. Therefore, I have made it the subject of the most
fascinating discussions with students, relatives, the masonry guys doing my new
steps, and even two girls on an airplane.
I quote from Sebastian Moore. “Desire
is love trying to happen. It is the love that permeates all the universe, trying
to happen in me. It draws into its fulfilling meaning all the appetites of our
physical being. It turns the need for shelter into the sacrament that is a
house. And it turns the need for food and drink into a gourmet feast. It turns
sexual passion into...ah, there we have a problem” (Moore 93).
We
find in our history a systematic distrust and suppression of desire.
There is an erotic incoherence deeply embedded in the culture.
Mark Twain: “A lie can travel half way around the world while the truth
is putting on its shoes.” The truth about desire is all tangled up in its
shoelaces!
Ecclesial traditions until the last
fifty years have done little more than reflect on this incoherence, even
capitalize on it, as if to say “You are right to be confused, repressive,
fearful” of desire (Moore 94). Today,
our culture that appears to be anything but repressive is nonetheless so.
The Churches’ attitudes toward
sexuality do not counter the fear, and above all, the hopelessness in the
culture. They mirror it. But ISTI exists to say it is not enough to be a mirror;
we need to be a lighthouse! For historical reasons, sexual renunciation rather
than sexual experience became the way of spiritual growth. I wrote my first book
about rethinking sexuality in 1984 in order to see what I could say about how
sexual and bodily passion is taken up into authentic desire. It was a
process of recovery, and to structure it I used the parable of the lost coin.
The situation is no better in the
secular world of getting and spending. For the new internet-stock rich, the
transition from middle class to rich has produced what Jacob Needleman, a
philosophy professor at San Francisco State U, calls “the despair of people
who have gotten what they want.” (Perhaps it was First Officer Spock who most
nearly got it right when he mused, “Having, it appears, is not so satisfactory
a thing as wanting”; and then added, with a sardonic arch of those famous
eyebrows, “It is not logical, but
it is human” (Money Magazine, May 2000).
An important premise for me is that
desire, yearning, longing, have been used for centuries as central metaphors for
our search for God, and for God’s reaching out toward humanity. That is so in
spite of the fact that not many people were brought up to think of desire as a
possible key to the spiritual journey but seen rather as part of uncontrollable
bodily urges or indicator of personal willfulness. The pre-Christian classical
era presented the ideal human being as free from need and desire, especially our
apparently inescapable dependencies on food and sex.
I will argue here that it is vitally
important to recover a spirituality of desire, for only by attending to our
desires are we able to encounter our deepest self--the image of God within us.
For Ignatius of Loyola desire is prayer; for Julian of Norwich, prayer is
longing (Sheldrake 56). Desire
relates us to prayer, God, choice and discernment, and of course our sexuality
which is inextricably linked with spirituality (Sheldrake 7).
The task before us is not the failed
one of the past--to subject sexual passion to the will. It is rather to restore
sexuality to desire, whose origin and end is God. This revaluing of desire is
part of the wider strategy of recovery and discovery going on here for the next
few days!
How
do we liberate our minds from the traps of Western culture?
Superficial and trivial sex, voyeuristic sex, premature and immature sex,
denial and secrecy. We live in a time when it may require more intimacy to
discuss sex in its fullest dimensions than to actually have sex! Therefore on
with the discussion.
I identify myself with the generation
of feminists who entered the world of work in the late 1960s and early 70s
convinced that if barriers to women’s progress were simply dropped, all else
would fall into place: an end to discrimination, we firmly believed, would yield
a world of equal employment opportunity and open acceptance of feminine values
including the goodness of the body and sexuality. It didn’t take long to learn
that we were wrong.
Desire has an important place in the
feminist phantasie (Dorothee Soelle’s word meaning the collective power of
human being to “imagine” a present-future, and in so doing, to begin to
create it among ourselves). In this phantasie we can see ourselves as subjects
rather than objects, as pleasure partners; we recognize the power we have when
we are in relation to one another; we know that the sharing of common goods,
self-esteem, pleasure create more power and pleasure for both. We acknowledge a connection between how we treat our bodies
and how we conserve or damage our earth.
In reflecting on my own past I have
seen many of the things that I wanted disappear in the reality of what I got.
And I have seen what I never expected--and often never even wanted--become what
was ultimately most important and most fulfilling in my life.
What
Is Desire?
"Desires are best understood as
our most honest experiences of ourselves in all our complexity and depth, as we
relate to people and things around us" (Sheldrake 12).
Desire has been called “The
Creator’s ingenious way of calling us out of ourselves into relationship with
one another” (Anthony Kosnik).
Desire is intimately associated with
our capacity to love, hence has a particular association with erotic power, and
a feeling of attraction toward or aversions from objects, people, and ideas. Any
desire is essentially personal, that is to say, associated with the kind of
persons we are. However, it can be directed toward nonpersonal things such as
material possessions or abstract qualities such as success, justice and
integrity (Sheldrake 12). The two young women I spoke with on the plane
illustrate this. One’s deepest desire is to be a mother and be pregnant; the
other lives to make a contribution to society and is presently studying to be a
pediatrician.
So, desire is for the actualizing of
our relatedness. It is desire that draws us into who we really are, knowing and
loving persons in relation.
Psychiatrist and spiritual mentor
Gerald May: “Searching beneath anxiety, one will find fear. And beneath fear
hurt will be discovered. Beneath the hurt will be guilt; beneath the guilt lie
rage and hatred. But do not stop with this, for beneath the rage lies frustrated
desire. Finally, beneath and beyond desire is love. In every feeling, look
deeply. Explore without ceasing. At bottom, love is” (May 87).
Kierkegaard: There is aesthetic, moral,
and spiritual/religious desire. Desires
may be conscious or unconscious. Because they are spiritual, they are not easily
discovered in oneself. They involve a positive and active reaching out to
something or someone. Such a movement goes beyond our “temporary reactions to
immediate circumstances” and actually touches upon deeper questions of our
identity and our ideals (Sheldrake 12).
Someone posed the question last night
as we sat chatting: Can you desire what is already present? I would say yes.
Real desire desires its own increase, its own deepening. You may already have
the physical presence of the beloved, or even lifelong loyalty and commitment,
but you can still desire a deeper union, a greater awareness, or a larger life
for you together.
There is nothing passive or limp about
desire, for it gives energy and direction to our psyche (Sheldrake 14). I discovered this for myself in a fairly straightforward way
when last September I traveled to Europe for the first time in twelve years and
discovered how limited my life had become.
The focused strength of desire has the capacity to enable a person to
recognize limitation and to change behavior.
The 14th-century Italian mystic
Catherine of Siena recognized the positive and extraordinary power of our
desires when she wrote that our desire is one of the few ways of touching God:
"You have nothing infinite except your soul’s love and
desire" (Dialogue 270). She
said: God wants not your success
but the greatness of your desire!
Human desire can be interpreted as a
"permanent openness to what is other than ourselves and to what is beyond
our boundaries" (Sheldrake 109). It
has something to do with our living in a permanently liminal state. Desire for
the infinite is inherently part of our human condition.
And desire, particularly sexual desire, is evidence of our deep calling,
our vocation.
Risk has been spoken of as the refusal
to forget desire. Sebastian Moore reflects on Nelson Mandela’s twenty-five
unrecoverable youthful years spent behind bars, and says "Really he puts me
to shame for risking so little"(Moore 92). Christ did not come so that we
might have safety and have it in abundance. He came that we might have life and
have it to the full! He did not say, blessed are those who do not think, but
follow blindly. He did not say, blessed are those who
do not feel, but act from reason alone. He said, Blessed are those who
weep, who seek, who hunger and thirst...! He
did not say give up your pleasurable relationships. He said give up your riches.
There’s a deaf spot in our psyche when little or less desire is considered
more virtuous.
The problem is to keep desire from
becoming absolutized. Then it becomes idolatry.
A healthy asceticism was actually an
effective discipline to focus desire more sharply. Some spiritual writers
mention a deepening of desire in association with the gradual loss of images of
God. The ability to pin God down to this or that image drives us ultimately into
a certain darkness or unknowing in which desire alone becomes the force that
drives us onward. Our desires imply a condition of incompleteness because they
speak to us of what we are not or what we do not have.
Sexual desire can be seen as a value that needs to be fostered.It is not primarily a primitive and
undifferentiated force that has to be curbed. For desire as personal and
person-oriented is not something instinctive. What we need to learn is not to
deny our desires, to push them down, but on the contrary, to attend to
them, to ask of them, What do I want, and hence begin to learn the difference
between the compulsive, unfree, addictive movements that go by the name of
desire and give desire a bad name, and the élan vital in us of which
these movements are the deadening.
So it is that desire poses a paradox. In a proportion of the population, desire poses a significant
problem, whether by its excess, its defect, its distortion, or its habitual
superficiality. Nonetheless it is the energy, the chi of love. The irony
of desire which can turn a life upside down, is that it is an expanding and
transcending dynamic which draws us to higher and better objects.
When
Is Desire Healthy?
Those who remain aloof and detached are
not saints "precisely because," says Gerald Vann, "there is
something human lacking to them, their hearts are not fully alive, they have not
yet fully realized in themselves God’s human
love of human being" (Gerald Vann 52).
One of my favorite quotes is Isaiah
5:20, quoted in John Irving’s novel, A Prayer for Owen Meaney. "Woe unto them that call evil good and good evil"
(308). Just because some person’s desires are acted out in a problematic way
is no reason to be suspicious of all desire, or, as Owen Meaney says profoundly,
"Just because some preacher’s an asshole, that’s not proof that God
doesn’t exist" (310).
One of the purposes of desire is
spiritual growth, that is, the understanding, acceptance, and transcendence of
self in relationship! As one of my
students wrote last semester, "Ultimately desire is about love. It is
love-longing. I have this longing inside of me that pushes me to love deeply.
This desire pushes me to improve myself and help to improve things for other
people. Our desires are what keep us going from day to day. I am going in the
direction of my desires and the power of my desires gives me my energy. When
I am honoring my deep desires, that is when I feel the presence of God.
Desires are so powerful that if we can
understand another person’s desires, we can truly know and understand that
person. Desire
is what puts us on a spiritual path..." (Jean Hansen).
This young woman is a mystic according
to the definitions of postmodern theologian Michel de Certeau: "He or she
is a mystic who cannot stop wanting and, with the certainty of what is lacking,
knows of every place and object that it is not that; one cannot stay there nor
be content with that. Desire creates an excess. Places are exceeded, passed,
lost behind it. It makes one go further, elsewhere. It lives nowhere"
(229).
Discernment
Coming out of a tradition of suspicion
of desire, it is helpful to know the process called discernment by which healthy
desires are distinguished from unhealthy preoccupations. Discernment may be
thought of as a journey, a process
whereby we move from a multitude of desires, or from surface desires, to our
deepest desire which contains all that is true and vital about ourselves.
When Is Desire Impaired?
Catherine Breillet, French filmmaker,
"Romance," says that the consequence of not having a sense of shame,
and believing that nothing is sacred, is a world that looks like ours. Unhealthy
desires have the quality of obsession and possessiveness. Unless love honors
both lover and beloved, it turns into something grotesque and ultimately
destructive. Lust by definition means getting sex wrong from trying to be God;
it does not mean letting good sex rip! I used to say, think more, do less. Now I
say: Tend your desires, which create the conditions for more good sex!
Sexual desire is often linked with
self-oblivion or self-assertion, and as such, sexual desire becomes the
“eroticization of domination.” When relational dynamics are those of
domination and acquiescence, this dualism reduces erotic experience to “your
pain equals my pleasure.” (See Boys
Don’t Cry). But the corrective is not downgrading sex. It is not
the enemy in our quest for God! Rather,
embarrassment at being sexual is inspired by pride and is the experience of the
fallen condition. It would be a truer insight to say that sin consists in
contempt for the flesh. It is the looking down on sexuality that is the
immediate effect of claiming divinity as one’s own. When desire becomes
instinct absolutizing itself, it is idolatry.
The sexual crossing of boundaries in
situations of unequal power has often been violent and abusive. At the heart of
rape lies the desire to gain power over another human being and may be used to
meet a number of needs that have little to do with real sexual desire, much less
love. As was evident in the film Boys
Don’t Cry, rape has nothing to do with
desire; it has every-thing to do with hatred and fear. It takes from
individuals the God-given right to be the subject of their own desire, and to
give their sacred being. Instead they are turned into object and their
sacredness is profaned. I had a student who said that, as the world determined
it, she had no value in this society, since she knew that she had not been a
virgin since she was about eight years old. Of course the determination of her
value did not take into consideration that her virginity was stolen from her in
a way very similar to Tamar’s in the Hebrew Scriptures book of 2 Samuel 13.
Tamar renames it “the crime of Amnon.”
There is so much more that should be
told about Amnon’s crime. What happened becomes known. Tamar wears the loss of
her sacred, sexual, and spiritual self for the world to see but she is forced
into silence. This silence protects the men who planned and committed this crime
against her sacred being. Tamar was a fully alive, sacred, sexual and spiritual
woman, who was fully prepared to give care to her sick brother. No fool this
Tamar, she spoke up for herself when she recognized what he planned to do to
her. He, however, disregarded her sacred being completely when he carried out
his plan, caring only about satisfying his most base urges. Both of their lives
and the lives of many others were destroyed by this violation.
Had
Amnon not believed that Tamar was his property, his possession, had he not
profanely violated her to appease his own cravings, there would be no crime and
no story. How different would be the world if loving were so sacred that it
could only be given but not taken or owned?
The renaming of the rape of Tamar to be
the “crime of Amnon” is significant. With the emphasis on the tragic effects
to the woman, responsibility is shifted, and silence descends over the violator.
Why is the so-called Lewinsky
affair not referred to more often as “the Clinton folly”?
But this student believes that all
things can be made new, even tattered and tarnished lovemaps. “One day,” she
writes, “my body, spirit and soul self will be healed, made new again, able to
joyfully appreciate its wholeness. Owning that gift, I will be able to honor and
accept who I am, honor and receive, then give the God-given gift of
pleasure. I will be able to choose to commit to another but never again
be owned by another.”
Too much superficial sex is often the
cause of loss of desire. The
blasphemy of an abusive relationship, and any relationship is abusive if the
partner has not yet discovered her own authentic desire, is that it offers a
sign meant to promise connection, empties it of its power, and offers its
contradiction--a stone, not bread; a scorpion, not a fish.
This is why the human process of differentiation is a condition for
graced union.
Two
contrary views of asceticism present themselves here. The conventional view is
that it means denying ourselves things we want. A more discerning and
confounding view is that it means dropping things we no longer want, admitting
to ourselves we no longer want them, and thus giving our journey, our story, a
chance to move on.
Attending to desire is about
cultivating in ourselves a capacity for passionate concern. Because it is such a
strong thing there is always a hint of risk. We are probably aware that some
desires may enslave us, others dissipate our energies. But desire can generate
power and physical energy and may also galvanize our spirituality. To allow
ourselves actively to desire is to be vulnerable. The fact that we frequently do
not allow ourselves such risks and so often lack a lively spirituality has close
connections with the frequent absence of a serious and healthy theology of the
Holy Spirit in Western Christianity (Sheldrake 15).
There are two common reactions when you
bring up the topic of desire: “I have so many desires that I don’t know what
to do with them.” Such a feeling is partly related to our fears and sense that
we lack control over our inner life. To distinguish between superficial and the
deep desires, the healthy and the unhealthy is more difficult than to treat them
all with equal suspicion and try to live without them.
The other reaction is: “I was taught
not to have desires, but rather it was important to fulfill the desires of
certain other important people in my life, parents, teachers, spouse, the
Church.” The implication was that any strong feelings were unreliable.
Contrast Ignatius of Loyola, “ask God our lord for what I want and desire”
at the beginning of every period of prayer.
Deep desires have the potential to give
direction to our lives. We discern our identity and our mission, first, by being aware and accepting the full range of desires that we
experience; and secondly, understanding the way in which our desires vary
greatly in their quality, from superficial to deep. The direction and potential
of our desires is not always immediately evident. To come to appreciate these
things demands patient reflection.
Deep desire should not be confused with
an intensity of need that might lead us to hasty responses. Sometimes it takes
refusing accepting, refusing, and thinking again. Example: Joan of Arc. Her
deepest desire to live--recanted, then recanted her recanting. She knew the
deep-down cost of identifying her deepest desire.
Why
Is Desire Important?
While some warn against unbridled
passion, most adults in committed relationships know that the problem is that
passion is too “bridled.” It is bridled by stress and medication and low
self-esteem and false guilt. The solution is to keep desire going, which means
to keep it growing, which means deepening it. We remind ourselves again. Lust is
not good sexual passion in excess or out of control of the will, but it is
sexual passion acting as a cover story for the will to dominate, to be God (See Boys Don’t Cry).
Self
Image
Although desire is a dynamic movement
toward what will fulfill us, it depends paradoxically on our having a healthy
sense of our own worth. We can only truly desire God, for example, if we
actually believe that we are capable of growth. The more self-aware I am, in the
best sense, the more I feel the pull of this possibility. So desire for God is
rooted in self-belief, which is why attention to our human desires is vital.
Every one of us needs to learn the human language of desire and love. We are not
born with it, only with a capacity for it, as we are not born knowing a
language, but having a capacity for speech.
From childhood onward we all have to
learn that to grow up involves moving from fulfilling the expectations and
desires of others to a greater realization of our own desires and the
appropriateness of choosing for ourselves.
Choosing
We
grow into the fullness of being human in the process of choosing--which is why
the where/how of our choosing is so vital. Because attention to desire may lead
us to touch our “essential self,” it enables us to discern which of our
choices are most expressive of who we truly are. And in the same process, desire
becomes a metaphor of transformation--of being gradually freed from all that
encumbers us and stops our growing or moving onward.
At the core of preoccupation with possessions and money, with status and
power, "I am sure," says Don Cozzens in The Face of Priesthood,
"is a desire for union, a longing for intimacy. Unmet intimacy needs
lead away from spiritual growth, not toward it" (Cozzens 31).
If you want to know what you desire,
don’t make a list, but look at what you have chosen. Look for a pattern in
your choices, since patterns become habits, which become our second nature.
After all, we do not become what we know, but we do become what we love.
Desire is linked essentially to our
inner life in the Spirit rather than to abstract norms and external guidance. As
we learn what we desire and learn to communicate what pleases us, we come to
live increasingly in relation to it rather than to compulsion on the one hand or
moral guilt on the other. This is the process of becoming a sexually mature
person, a free person, a differentiated person.
But please don’t accuse me of
retreating into an idealized view of human desire. The sexual expression of our
enslavement or immaturity tends to be compulsive and destructive. It can also be
insatiable, preventing us from ever feeling fulfilled. But crucial to understand
is that conflicted sexuality and misplaced sexual behavior
do not indict sexuality and desire; they are indicators of much broader
problems of maturity, freedom, and spiritual health.
What
about God the Holy Spirit?
The Holy Spirit is encountered in our
desire for God and in God’s desire for us.
Our desire for God:
"In some Jewish mystical traditions sexual intercourse between
spouses was encouraged on the Sabbath night. To make love out of the fullness,
relaxation, and joy of Sabbath was the earthly counterpart of the holy union
that occurred on the Sabbath evening between the shekinah (the indwelling
presence of God, sometimes seen as the feminine aspect) and the masculine aspect
of God” (Moore 83).
All our deepest desiring conceals a
desire for God. Jung saw alcoholism
as a search for wholeness, a quest for union with God. The whole of our life,
every kind of desire is touched by
the Spirit of God in some sense. We have to stop looking for God as one object
of our desires alongside and in competition with other desires. God the Holy
Spirit is more like the immanent subject, the dynamic depths of all our
desiring. The contemporary Welsh
priest-poet R S Thomas puts it into perspective:
Why
no! I never thought other than
That
God is that great absence
In
our lives, the empty silence
Within,
the place where we go
Seeking,
not in hope to
Arrive
or find
(Thomas 1984, “Via Negativa”)
The deep desire of the human being (an
existential aptitude according to Karl Rahner) calls us into partnership with
the absolute, and reveals the partnership of lovers as a sharing in this
partnership with God. The Holy Spirit is the healing of the dichotomy between
knowing and loving from which our world is suffering. Karl Rahner, who, like
Thomas Merton, fell deeply in love, has written a credo appropriate for
Pentecost: I believe in the Holy Spirit, who can heal my depression, overcome my
prejudice, supply for my sense of inferiority, overcome my loneliness.
All this means is that we can have an experiential
knowledge of our orientation toward the infinite. Julian of Norwich:
"The fullness of joy is to behold God in everything." Mechtild of
Magdeburg: “The day of my spiritual awakening was the day I saw--and knew I
saw all things in God and God in all things.”
It describes, I believe, the possible future of every human being.
It is not surprising that the Holy Spirit, the instigator and
consummation of desire, should be associated with love and wisdom.
To
satisfy those of you who want theory, Leonardo Boff explains the sacramental
principle: The structure of desire itself, when it is invoked with sincerity,
naturally embodies permanent reference to and inclusion of God. If the goal of
all human desire is God, does this mean that God is to be found at the heart of
all desire? (A thoroughly Christian incarnational answer is yes.) The image of
God in us IS the infinity of our desire.
God’s
desire for us: Deeply fixed
in the consciousness of many Christians is the image of a passionless, detached
God whose perfection is to be self-contained, still and at rest. If we believe
ourselves to be created in the image of that God we can easily associate desire
and passion with lack of balance, confusion, loss of control and dangerous
subjectivity. As a consequence, human love for God has been treated for
centuries as unique, disconnected from all other forms of human loving. In one
Bible study group, the idea of God as lover came up. The reaction of one devout
older woman, with her southern upbringing still evident in her voice, was
immediate: “Yuck--I have never heard of anything so revolting!”
To insist, as the classical Christian
tradition does, that God is ultimately beyond anything we can know has to be
held in creative tension with our incarnational faith that the presence of God
may be found in all human experiences.
Eight
Recommendations
1. See desire
as a value to be fostered, not a blind force that has to be curbed.
When it is demonized, desire is given more “shadow-power”; as a value
it is humanized and humanizing, and causes an increase of self-understanding,
self-acceptance, self-transcendence.
2. Honor desire
as an engine of liberation: desire transforms and opens me from chains of my
customary way of being myself, from hanging on to things I no longer want and
being able to admit I no longer want them, thus giving my journey a chance to
move on.
3. Learn to
discern deep desire in and under superficial wants and needs vicariously through
films and literature; communally through dialog and shared stories; and
personally by taking the risks involved in attending to desires.
4. Restore
sexual passion and arousal to desire, rescuing it from ill-conceived attempts to
subject it to the will or harness it to conventional stereotypes.
5. See personal
growth as a progressive liberation of desire. Each desire attended takes us to a
deeper place, not to despair that what I have must be held on to because that is
all there is.
6. Learn to let
go of the erroneous thinking that often shapes our adult perceptions of love.
7. Explore,
articulate, and teach healthy ways of cultivating and tending desire.
8. Praise God
with Thomas Traherne: “For giving
me desire which in my soul did work and move, that never could be satisfied,
that incessantly suggested a Paradise Unknown and bore me to it, thy name be
ever praised” (“Desire” 1991).
Finally, I repeat the quote with which
I opened. “Desire is love trying to happen. It is the love that permeates all
the universe, trying to happen in me. It draws into its fulfilling meaning all
the appetites of our physical being. It turns the need for shelter into the
sacrament that is a house. And it turns the need for food and drink into a
gourmet feast. It turns sexual passion into...ah“...the presence of God! JT
__________________
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