God’s Overwhelming Grace. Tuesday 24th August: The Day God Guided Me Home

This is a true story of something amazing that happened recently when I was hiking in the Peak District and God showed up and powerfully spoke to me. It is a day I will never forget. I pray that God may bless and speak to you as you read it and that you too may come to an understanding of His overwhelming grace.



Tuesday 24th August and I was out in the Derbyshire Peak District (Edale to be precise) with the aim of getting some decent hill walking in before the, already dismal, summer came to an end. The weather was quite poor by the time I set off and the increasingly strong wind and rain buffeted against me with mounting violence. But I carried on unperturbed; I had my waterproofs and, at any rate, the harsh conditions were sure to ease off before too long.

Being alone and in a relatively quiet and secluded place I seized this as a perfect opportunity to spend some time in prayer. I knew this particular footpath well (or so I thought) having trodden it countless times before and so, as I strode doggedly forward, head down against the wind, I began my (entirely one sided) conversation with God. I rattled on about numerous issues I felt the need to get off my chest, not least of which was the matter of my life’s direction. Of late, it’d been a subject of increasing prevalence in my prayers owing to a number of minor instances and musings (which I will not go into now) that have caused me to pause for thought. In any case, as I lifted these words to my Father in Heaven I could have had no idea of either the speed in which He would respond or the dramatic fashion in which He would choose to do so!

Contrary to my initially optimistic predictions, the higher my footpath ascended the worse the weather seemed to become. By now the thick grey clouds that had been resting on the peaks ahead began to roll in and visibility grew increasingly poor. Presently, I reached a farm where the footpath split. I was quite sure that the route I needed lay straight ahead and so, pulling my hood tighter up around my head, I ploughed on, across a road, over a stile and onto another footpath. Despite walking this route on many previous occasions, this current leg of the journey didn’t appear at all familiar and I soon became, more than a little, convinced that this might not actually be the right path.
Of course, what I should have done at this point was to stop, consult the map in my rucksack and navigate my way back on track. But I didn’t. It was raining very heavily now and the thought of stopping and studying a map, let alone backtracking and prolonging my route seemed quite an unappealing one. “Anyway,” I concluded, “this path looks like it’s headed in roughly the right sort of direction. Ten to one it’ll join up with the footpath I’d actually wanted anyway. It might even be a short-cut!” And, of course, the more I said this to myself, the more I began to be convinced by it. Before long I had become certain, in my own mind at least, that if I just kept persevering along this, now quite narrow, footpath and up to the top of the peak where it seemed to be headed, I’d recognise where I was and all would be well.

By this point the footpath had become really quite treacherous and the higher it ascended, the narrower and more precarious it seemed to be. The heavy rains during the past few days meant that, what were once tranquil, streams ebbing their way down the hillside, were now gushing rivers – quite deep in places – rushing down into the valley from which I had come. What made the situation worse was that many of them seemed to have all but engulfed entire sections of the footpath meaning that, before long, I was gingerly picking my way across make shift-stepping stones, trying not to fall in (and failing on several occasions). I’d climbed high enough now as to be entering into the low lying puffy white and grey clouds that were the cause of all this torrential rain. The annoyance posed by the rain, however, soon took a definite back seat as I realised that, owing to the misty conditions, I could scarcely see more than a few yards in front of me. Despite this, I eventually succeeded in reaching the top of whatever peak it was I’d been climbing and I surveyed what little I could make out of the landscape. It didn’t seem all that familiar. However, there was a footpath and, again, I convinced myself that if only I were to follow that path it would surely lead to somewhere I would recognise or else a signpost or something of use! The path seemed to stretch on forever, twisting round and round and up and down; across streams and over rocky outcrops growing momentarily wider and then narrower again and less and less pronounced, until eventually (although it took some time before I’d admit it to myself) it disappeared altogether.

I looked around. I was in the middle of a barren wasteland of soggy peat bogs, divided only by an occasional clump of moorland heather and a whole network of tributaries flowing...somewhere. For as far as I could see (and that wasn’t very far at all) the landscape appeared identical in all directions. There were no features to speak of that may have aided my bearings, no other people that I could make out and, worst of all, no footpath whatsoever. Stubbornly however, I kept going straight ahead, hoping I would find something (although by now my hope was beginning to wane) and, as I walked, I prayed. I asked God, politely at first, to help me; please would He give me some sort of clue, some indication of where I was or where I needed to be heading? Nothing. Alright then, would He at least provide a momentary break in the weather; a lifting of the cloud cover so that my journey might be slightly more manageable? The mist seemed to become thicker and the rain heavier.
I began to panic.
I knew this area of the Peak District well enough to know that these vast expanses of, seemingly, desolate peat moorlands can often stretch on for miles and miles and attempting to navigate oneself through them is, at the best of times, difficult and with no footpath, poor visibility and absolutely no sense of direction it becomes all but impossible. I could spend hours simply walking round in circles and not be aware of it. What had started out as mild concern was growing, increasingly, into genuine fear. I imagined spending a night in this bleak abyss and wondered how, or if, I’d survive. Despite being August, it was already quite cold and I was wet from the rain and thoroughly miserable. I tried to imagine how I’d even attempt to describe my location to Mountain Rescue or how they’d ever hope to find me shrouded, as I was, in this dense cloud.

I began to curse God for seemingly abandoning me to my fate and I shouted angrily at the heavens, deploring “The Almighty” for His vindictive silence. If God ever had been in my life, clearly, He had chosen this opportune moment to make His departure. I felt utterly alone.

I then did something that, for me, is most uncharacteristic both when hiking and, indeed more generally, in life. I did a u-turn and began to walk back in, what I hoped was, the direction I had come. I wasn’t overly optimistic of my chances but, I concluded, there remained the faintest possibility that I might just be able to find my way back to the footpath I’d been originally following and from there work my way back. Those who know me well will realise what I significant thing this was for me to do. This wasn’t just a strategic change in direction, this was an acknowledgement that I had failed and that there was now no chance of my rescuing either my planned walking route or, more importantly, my pride. No longer would I be able to say that I’d gotten “momentarily lost” but, nevertheless, had succeeded in getting back on track and completing my planned circular trail. Now I would have the personal humiliation and, moreover, the galling physical drudgery of attempting to retrace my steps. That was, of course, assuming I could find my way back.

I must have been walking for no more than ten minutes when, quite suddenly and without warning, the rain stopped. Moments later the thick cloud which had enveloped the landscape in every direction began, gradually, to lift. Then something happened which, at the time and in my state of distress, appeared quite remarkable. A section of clouds, right up ahead and in the direction I was walking, parted, just a little, revealing a small patch of brilliant blue sky and, almost instinctively, I knew what I had to do. I followed it. In time it started to grow bigger and, moments later, the sun (all but invisible until this point) gingerly crawled out into view and showered the, once miserably dull, sky with its warm light.

I was walking on a footpath, although I cannot say from where it appeared and it certainly didn’t seem familiar. I doubted this was the way I had come but that was of no concern now – I simply knew that I had to follow that patch of blue sky, always keeping it straight ahead. And then my heart did a little dance of delight because, sure enough, the path brought me out and onto the edge of a ridge. The mist had all but disappeared now and I could make out my position, quite clearly. I was standing on a plateau, overlooking a large valley over which the sun had rested, illuminating the entire landscape below in an incredible golden glow. Of course, I recognised it. It was the same valley in which the village of Edale –where this epic adventure had begun – was nestled. Indeed, I could make out the small farm buildings and houses that were dotted around its periphery. And right beneath me, not ten minutes climb down the hillside, was a footpath, so wide and so clear that one could have made it out a mile away. This path I certainly did know for it ran parallel to the river which, in turn, snakes its way right into the village itself. I was going to get back after all.

In my delight and relief it took me several moments to realise what had just happened. God had just been speaking to me.

In my rash and emotional state of stubborn pig headedness, I had wrongly concluded that God had deserted me and was maliciously withdrawing His presence to teach me some kind of lesson. How wrong I was. Of course, looking back now, what God was doing seems so blindingly obvious I’m quite ashamed I didn’t realise sooner. He was forcing me to turn around!
Having studied the map since my return and deduced my whereabouts I was, it seems, actually heading away from, not towards, where I needed to be. Had I continued, at best my journey would have been significantly (if not dangerously) prolonged and, at worst, I could have been stranded. It hardly bears thinking about. I see now how imperative it was that I turned around and yet, I fear, had God not made it so impossible for me to otherwise, I would have arrogantly forged ahead – in the wrong direction!

Walking down the valley and into the warmth of the sunshine it slowly began to dawn on me that God had not simply come to my rescue and guided me back to safety from the wilds of Edale Moor. He was telling me something else as well and I could almost hear the words pouring forth from His mouth with, probably, the slightest hint of a suppressed chuckle; though not one that expressed either scorn or contempt but rather the kind of chuckle that a loving father might give after having just watched his precious child trying to be “all grown up” and making an absolute hash of it!
“Jonny,” He seemed to be saying, “You will insist on always doing things you own way won’t you! I do so wish that you’d stop being so obstinate and stubborn all the time and learn that swallowing your pride and admitting defeat isn’t a sign of weakness in my eyes. It’s a sign of wisdom. If only you’d admit that you simply don’t have all the answers and you need My help. If only you’d acknowledge that, for all your efforts, you really don’t know where you’re going so much of the time and you need My direction. If only you’d stop and turn to Me, you’d realise that I, not you, know the way home.”

I walked the couple of miles back to civilisation laughing and crying, almost simultaneously, partially in sorrow and remorse for my own stupidity but, in far greater measure, in wonder and amazement at God’s overwhelming grace.

Optimum Humanity

“What,” exclaims mankind’s external cry “is my purpose in life?”


It has, of course, been the subject of countless debates and much conjecture: for what end was humanity placed on this rock called Earth? If, indeed, placed we were.
Schools of religiosity, philosophy and science have expended much time and energy searching for this enigmatic and, seemingly, illusive mandate for our species that might aid in rationalising our existence and granting us a clearer sense of what, precisely, it is we ought to be doing during our stay on this mortal coil.
How we came to find ourselves here is perhaps a mystery that few of us will actively seek to concern ourselves with; the enormity of it often proving too burdensome and bewildering for our brains to handle. But WHY we are here – this question would appear to harass and distress us as an irksome spectre until the day we breathe our final breath.
In the interim, we crowd our days with a medley of tasks, chores and assignments: professional occupations, voluntary work, academic studies, short-term sabbaticals, holidays, sporting challenges and the like. We invest ourselves in projects, schemes, families, children, partners and communities. We strive towards wealth, notoriety, acclamation, legacy, discovery, prominence, influence, acceptance and success. And all in a desperate attempt to fabricate, for ourselves, a sense of purpose; a reason to get out of bed each morning; a significance to our otherwise arbitrary existence; a point to our humanity.
Wouldn’t it be tragically comical, therefore, if the answer to this conundrum was so simple, so obvious and so uncomplicated that we’d been staring it right in the face? How both devastating and liberating it would be to discover that the encryption we’d be working so tirelessly to decipher was already written in our own language and already made perfect sense! How seemingly incredible it would seem if the purpose of humanity ... was humanity itself! In other words, our purpose as humans was simply to be human.
But perhaps I’m getting slightly ahead of myself here; after all, we haven’t yet asked the question of what ‘being human’ actually means in the first instance let alone how we can arrive at, apparently, such an audaciously simplistic conclusion concerning humanity’s purpose. Thus to avoid simply settling for a somewhat defeatist resolution, inferring that one simply resigns oneself to a vegetative state of ‘being’ with no appetite for knowledge or enlightenment pertaining to one’s existence, we must necessarily explore, in some depth, firstly the subject of human ontology and secondly the, perhaps more complex, issue of our origins. In other words, what does it mean to be human and where does this meaning derive from?
On this latter point, I am going to assert the craftsmanship of God (that is the God of the Christian faith) over humanity and seek, therein, to explore the creative inspiration for the composition of man as we know him. Aside from my own personal and relational faith in God, I find I am able to rest on such an assertion on the grounds of logical conjecture with evidential reference to the principles of life and existence we observe around us. Such methodology forms the basis of much, if not the majority, of well established scientific thinking – that is, to take an easily observable and well tested principle and apply it to a correspondingly and sufficiently similar, but less well understood, area to reach a probable conclusion. Darwin’s theory of Evolution by Natural Selection is a typical example of this. Sufficient fossil evidence exists in the cases of certain animal species to allow the scientist to draw clear lines of development from a currently existing organism back, perhaps as far as its Jurassic predecessor. The same weight of evidence, of course, does not exist for every species type but, being confident of the evolutionary journey of certain creatures we are able to hypothesise the trajectory of others for whom there exists less evidence and reach, what we deem to be, reasonable conclusions. For the benefit, therefore, of those without a personal faith in the God worshipped by myself and countless others across the globe, I will employ this methodology to aid me in making, what I hope you will come to see as, reasonable and logical (if not provable) claims pertaining to a Creating God and His connection with us.
But I have already exhausted too much time in prologue, so let us proceed to the matter in hand.

What Humanity Is

What does it mean to be human? What are those traits and characteristics that we, as a race, are predisposed towards, that define and unite us? Aside, of course, from our basic biological functions which simply ensure our physical survival, what can be said of our ontological humanity that applies both objectively and universally?
The answer, I assert, is relationship. The art, the yearning and, indeed, the necessity to relate to those with whom we share our existence in time, space, location and context. Whether or not we are conscious of the fact, it, nevertheless, remains the case that inter-personal relationships form the bedrock of human existence both because we desire it, but moreover, because we simply need it.
Whether physically, verbally, interactively or even virtually and in spite of how challenging or problematic some of us may find it to be, we, each of us, instinctively realise our need to relate. Precisely because absolute self-sufficiency is all but humanly impossible, we recognise the paramount importance of interacting with our fellow human beings: trading, exchanging, compromising, assisting, deferring and delegating. One is hard pushed to find a man able to survive on no human contact whatsoever – however minimal or impersonal it may be.
Besides pragmatic necessity, however, it would seem clear that we possess a deep (perhaps spiritual) yearning for human relationship; a deep seated longing for people with which to interface, interact and share, to whatever degree, the, often perplexing and painful, journey of life. Whatever form these take and in whatever volumes we each respectively posses them, the vast majority of us will go to at least some (and often considerable) effort to acquire a set of friends or companions; people with whom we can share our thoughts, our experiences and our fluctuating emotions. For many, that desire for intimacy and interdependence goes deeper still and we seek longer term and more sensual relations of a romantic nature, the ultimate culmination of which is the institution of marriage. But even apart from these deeply intense and precious relationships we appear to see a need for, often more, superficial modes of connection with those around us. Within the contexts of our occupations we endeavour to align ourselves with those we feel are sufficiently similar to ourselves and seek, wherever possible, to establish relational cliques within which we feel secure and understood. Even when such relationships never develop into anything more profound or even permanent we readily engage in them, prepared, at the very least, to exert ourselves in casual small talk or awkward exchanges in order to give ourselves the feeling of being part of something; of being in relationship.
We may frequently emit signals to the contrary, of course, indicating an apparent comfort with exclusion and isolation but, for the most part, this is no more than a self preservation tactic, aimed at protecting our pride and, paradoxically, maintaining our perceived credibility as potential allies! Many have mastered the art of appearing comfortable, even happy, in their isolation, but, given the option, I suspect, few would choose it. In any case, just because a man is satisfied with a particular way of life does not mean he would not swap it in an instant if the opportunity presented itself. Just because humankind is able to exist in a certain way, does not infer that it is the optimum way, much as a rally car is able perform quite adequately being forever driven on main roads at 40mph despite being designed for much tougher terrain and much higher speeds!
However, before becoming engrossed in this subject of optimality, we have still to discuss the issue of human originality which, I trust, will shed further light on what would seem to be mankind’s relational ontology.

Where Humanity Originates

Let us begin, simply, with that which we know to be self evident; namely the biological creation of individual human life forms. Notwithstanding more recent scientific developments in the field of external fertilisation and detracting all modes of modification and interference, be it IVF treatment, contraceptive measures or the like - the creation of human life, at its most primitive, is the product, and therefore the consequence, of perhaps the most absolute form of inter-human relation. I am referring, of course, to sexual intercourse.
Whatever one’s moral or personal stance on the subject of sexual relations, it nevertheless remains the case that this act of two peoples marks a, quite unique, form of inter-personal connection unlike any other. And it is, of course, also the most complex and multi faceted mode of relationship – a reality which many discover both to their joy and, unfortunately, often their great sadness; operating, as it does, not simply on a physical, biological plane but, in perhaps greater measure, emotionally and spiritually also.
To those who maintain that it is possible to, somehow, negate one’s own humanity in the act of sexual intercourse and reduce it to nothing more than a disconnected, biological transaction, I would say only the following: However we may utilise it and whatever moral codes we may impose upon it, the value of sex as a facet of human, relational intimacy is, evidently, very high indeed. If this were not the case, then extra marital, sexual affairs would not only be tolerated but dismissed as trivial and of little consequence. We would not attempt to draw any distinction between sexual intimacy within the context of a loving relationship and its counterpart: lusted-fuelled “one night stands.” Both would be equally inconsequential and devoid of any significance beyond the biological ramifications. In other words, there would be no (however subjective) idea of what constituted “meaningful sex” and therefore no bench mark or point of reference against which to measure, what we clearly hold to be, “cheap” alternatives. We certainly would not presume such a strong correlation between sex and love, as we so obviously do and it would be inconceivable that one could experience deep emotional hurt and even relational destruction as a result of sex. So, let us dispense at once with any notion that sexual intercourse is anything other than an act of complete and unparalleled inter-personal relationship, involving every ounce of our emotional, spiritual and physical humanity.
In such a way, then, we are compelled to the inevitable conclusion that human life itself is a product – a direct consequence of – inter-human relationship. That is to say, that it is the act of persons relating, one to another, that creates the essential ingredients and foundation for the conception and stimulation of new life. Indeed, we might go further and state that only through the most absolute, holistic and exhaustive form of human relation can fresh human life be conceived. In short and to link to the original point, “optimum” relational humanity is the prerequisite for the creation of life.
However, if we may, let us now journey still further along the road of mankind, perhaps even to the very beginning. At this juncture I employ my first piece of conjectural hypothesis in asserting that humanity did indeed have a beginning – that is to say a point of conception, before which it was not – and, consequentially, a creator who fashioned us into being. I make so bold as to assert this, simply owing to the correlating evidence we have readily available to us.
The notion of a living thing, and especially a human being, have, so to speak, no beginning, is one which goes completely contrary to the principles of existence we witness around us. As previously discussed, every human life form has an origin and a point of, if you like, “formation” and, indeed, this is mirrored across nature and the animal kingdom. The idea that humankind might have no beginning – no point at which its collective existence commenced – seems quite ludicrous. Applying the very same principles, therefore, it would only seem sensible to surmise that humanity, as well as being “created” must, necessarily, have had a “creator.” In much the same manner as infant children do not simply “appear” but rather they are the product of reproduction (which itself is an act of creating) so must we assume came the very first our own kind (in whatever form they took).
That agreed, we progress, tentatively, towards the contentious issue of a “creator,” knowing that, therein, must surely lay the very origins of humanity’s ontological composition and, thus, the greatest point of reference for our “optimum” existence.
It would seem only sensible to assume that, if mankind is, at its very core, essentially relational then, so too, must be that which created it. Indeed, the very inherency of mankind’s relational disposition would point to a creator who is, in very nature, relational him, her or it-self. In other words, what we are seeking is a creator who, by very definition, is the absolute embodiment and encapsulation of relationship; a creator who is ontologically, inextricably and absolutely relational.
This, of course, presents us with a problem: how is it possible for a single entity to be, in and of him, her or it-self, so completely relational? Relationship, by very nature, requires multiple parties; it demands that which can be related to. A person simply cannot be relational in complete isolation. He requires, at very least, a frame of reference for relationship; a model of interpersonal relation from which to extrapolate his notion of what it means to relate.
And, herein, lays perhaps the chief undoing of nearly all of humanity’s notions of external deity. That is to say, almost all human constructs of a creator, a god, an external “otherness” - however we wish to describe it – imagine a single, begotten being from whom all life poured forth. All, that is, except the God as depicted in the image of the Holy Trinity, as professed by many who, for the sake of simplicity, we shall label Christians (although I urge you not to be bound by whatever preconceived notions and connotations this title evokes).
Without becoming too caught up in the complexities of Trinitarian theology (sufficient has already been written on this doctrine to last a lifetime) what can be said is that, according to this concept, the Deity (that is God) exists in Three Persons: God the Father (Jehovah), God the Son (Jesus Christ) and God the Spirit (The Holy Spirit). The fullness of the Godhead, therefore, is an absolute relationship between these Three Persons of such a magnitude that they are, in fact, as one. In other words, their relationship, one to another, is so infused with unity, mutual submission, self sacrifice, selflessness and, above all, love, that they exist in a state of constant agreement, interdependence, and a kind of interwoven and harmonious unanimity, the like of which we have never seen, nor will ever see, anywhere else.
Assuming this model is correct, God’s very existence, we must conclude, is determined and defined by his eternal state of internal, triune relationship. He is the very manifestation of what relationship is and means. He is, ultimately, ontologically relational.
This is, of course, where our journey of human exploration ends – or, indeed, begins depending on which direction one takes! What then, may we conclude?

•Humanity posses a predisposed desire and, moreover, a need for inter-human relationship
•Human life is conceived, biologically, as a product of sexual union – the ultimate form of human relationship
•Humanity, as a whole, was created by One who, in His very nature, is the absolute and defining manifestation of relationship.

Clearly we are afforded no alternative option but to concede to the reality that has been starring us in the face for so long: to be human is to be relational! Humanity and relationship are inextricably and inseparably linked. Naturally, inherently, essentially, ontologically, we are beings of relationship, pure and simple.

The Implication

What importance or relevance does this revelation have to us, beyond, perhaps, a temporal, though elated, sense of increased self awareness?
Perhaps, now is the appropriate juncture to return, having journeyed full circle, to our starting point; the seemingly so enigmatic conundrum that ignited this whole debate: what is humanity’s purpose?
It seems, on reflection, a somewhat peculiar question to pose; to discuss one’s own ontological mandate as a human being! From whence have we perceived this notion? What I mean to say is, one does not find, for example, a tree questioning its purpose as a tree or a dog questioning the end to which it has been placed on the earth! These may appear ridiculous examples, but the point I wish to stress is this: at least where living things are concerned, if not universally, the purpose, the mandate of a thing is to be, no more and no less than itself. Indeed, its purpose is most fulfilled when it is most fully, most absolutely, most uncompromisingly and most unapologetically itself! A tree is at its best when it does what it was designed to do: to grow and flourish and produce fruit.
The same, then, must surely apply to the human race. Our purpose as humans, is to be human. Again: our purpose as humans is to be human. And to be human, as it were, to optimum capacity; manifesting every ounce of our ontological humanity (that is, our relational inherency) without hindrance, hesitation, negation or dilution. This is optimum humanity.
What, then, has gone so badly wrong?
I say this because, but a brief glance at the society in which we live reveals the distressing reality that humanity, at large, is in a state of almost utter brokenness. In a callous and sweeping rejection of our most inherent and encoded human dispositions - the very essence and core of our collective selves - we have traded the riches of our humanity for an artificially manufactured counterfeit, and the cost is proving dear indeed. We have traded community for isolation, relationship for mere association, honesty for falsity, vulnerability for superficiality and interdependence for an autonomous self sufficiency breeding selfishness, greed, mistrust and competition of the ugliest kind imaginable. One might even go so far as to conclude that we have rejected the very idea of humanity itself. Put like that, the matter suddenly becomes one of quite pressing concern.
For a more detailed and in-depth exploration into some of the precise ways in which, I certainly feel, humanity is recoiling into, what I can only describe as, an unbearable pit of disconnection and seclusion, you can read my blog entitled “Splendid Isolation?”
I do, however, wish to pay particular focus to, what I believe is, perhaps the most distressing consequence of our denunciation of self, that is the tragedy of unfulfilled relationships and, it’s resulting counterpart, loneliness.
At some point in our collective history, so it would seem, mankind has succumbed to the lie that dependency, of any sort, be it emotional, financial, provisional etc. is a thing most undesirable and to be avoided or escaped from at almost any cost. Now it is important here that I make my position quite clear: I am not advocating irresponsibility. What I am not proposing is the kind of dependency where one party absolves themselves of all liability, initiative or free thought. That would lead to disempowerment, abusiveness and, quite frankly, laziness and therefore something we ought to be adamantly opposed to. No, what I am arguing for is a kind of interdependency within human relationships that speaks of our need for each other. Because that, of course, is the crux if the matter: we need each other! The problem, it would appear, is that rather than embracing that facet of our humanity and doing ourselves the service of actually responding to, what is so obviously, a somewhat crucial aspect of our ontological composition, we have, rather, exhausted almost all of our collective energy in negating it as much as possible! It would be highly comical if it were not true. As it is, it is tragically heartbreaking.
A much needed starting point in any reformation process, would be the simple acceptance of our inherent and overwhelming need for human intimacy, love and relationship. Understand here, that I am not referring, exclusively, to human relations of a romantic nature. These, of course, are of great value and, in a whole host of ways, quite distinct from plutonic relationships, but they should not claim a monopoly of human intimacy and interdependency. Nor, incidentally, should such relationships be viewed as expected or mandatory, with those choosing to remain single somehow classified as lesser mortals as so often seems the case. In truth, it is often those without romantic ties that prove the better practitioners of relationships in a plutonic context – probably because they have not fallen into the trap of becoming so fixated on one person to the detriment of the countless others! My point is that these characteristics of relationship I am taking such pains to articulate, ought , to one degree or other, be features of most, if not all, of our human relationships.
My perception, both from personal experience but, furthermore, in observing that of others, is that, for the most part, we yearn more than anything for our relationships to be characterised by that depth of connection, honesty, authenticity and intimacy but, crucially, we are, simultaneously, terrified of both the possible implications of this and, moreover, the necessary sacrifices of pride, self sufficiency and emotional detachment that will, surely, be incurred. Not that we have any particular love for these negative attributes with which we have cloaked ourselves; it is rather that they provide us with a familiar veil of security – a safety blanket, a layer of bubble-wrap enabling us to avoid the sort of pain, complication and loss of face that, we conclude, are the inevitable consequences of dropping one’s guard. And so we don’t. The drawbridge remains up, the hatches battened, the shutters down. It’s lonely and its cold but, we re-assure ourselves, the alternative is too costly. This, then, is the lesser of two evils and, thus, the best we can ever hope for. I doubt, very much, that we actually believe this myth, but we, nevertheless, tell ourselves that we do until, over time, we discover we’ve resigned ourselves to this mediocre status quo and we ought to simply make the best of it.
Again, if I might be permitted here to momentarily inject a point of clarity. Clearly, absolute personal vulnerability when universally applied is neither healthy, nor appropriate! I am certainly not proposing a complete ‘access all areas’ mentality of unveiling all one’s inmost privacies and laying oneself totally bare and vulnerable at the feet of every passerby! Quite obviously, caution must be exercised and responsibility both for one’s own emotional well being but also that of others. As such, different degrees of intimacy will be proper for different relationships and there can be no ‘one size fits all’ model. All that understood and notwithstanding the need for wisdom and discernment in one’s conducting of relationships, the point nevertheless stands that intimacy, honesty and emotional authenticity remains the essential, but all too often missing, ingredient in our human relationships.
The chief reason, then, for our denial of the riches of our relational humanity is one of self preservation. Preservation of reputation, of emotional stability, of pride and, if we are truly honest, of those aspects of ourselves we would rather remained undiscovered and under-wraps! Underlying all this, I strongly suspect, is a paralysing fear of judgement and rejection. Remove one’s armour and one’s weakness and vulnerability is exposed and one risks being stabbed. Better then, we concede, to be safe, not sorry!
If self preservation is the primary cause of unfulfilled human relationships, then the second is closely linked and it is the belief that human interdependency and intimacy, of the kind I am speaking of here, are unreasonable expectations to impose on those other parties with whom we are in relationship. The presentation of our vulnerabilities and weaknesses to our fellow humans is, we conclude, too great an imposition. The articulation of our absolute need for their intimacy must surely be too great a burden to ask them to carry.
Thus, we concede, the kind of relationship that we so greatly crave requires too unreasonable a demand on both ourselves and on others.
And this, regrettably, is the point of conclusion for many who have battled with this agonizing issue of the human condition. It is, of course, a most lonely road to walk but, I suppose, if one doesn’t dwell on it too frequently and provides oneself with sufficient distractions it is, at least, bearable.
Of course, there is always the alternative. For those prepared to swallow their pride, make themselves vulnerable, risk undoing their reputation and upsetting their well preserved emotional sensibilities there does exist another way. For those courageous enough to be so honestly audacious as to admit the truth of our humanity: that we desperately, desperately need each other, that we are unspeakably lonely in our self inflicted isolation and that we crave, deep within our souls, the kind of relationship we feel sure we were created and put on this Earth for. To those few there remains the path of optimum humanity and therein, I truly believe, may we even see a glimpse of God Himself.