Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring

When I left my house, it was drizzling - the kind of rain that makes me feel contemplative and prayerful. The kind that hits the hood of my rain jacket with a noise that makes me feel like I’m taking a tin roof porch with me as I walk. The kind that lets me think.

It was one of those times when God’s Presence felt immediately near in the mystery of consciousness of His nearness - an unexplainable sense of heaven’s closeness. It stirred desire in me - for Him, for my city, for people I cared about. For rightness on the earth. I walked and prayed.

By the time I made it to the end of my street, I could see dark clouds in the distance. Then a flash of light. My dad taught me to count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder to determine the distance of the storm. I counted to twelve. I figured I still had some time to walk down the tree lined street to get back home.

But then I saw lightning directly in front of me - sky to the horizon - with an instant clap of thunder. I flinched. The storm was closer than I thought. Realizing I was out of time, I decided it was better to avoid being underneath the trees. Hadn’t I recently read a news story about someone getting struck by lightning underneath a tree? The backstreet had less overhead foliage. I’d get home that way.

As soon as I rounded the corner, the downpour began - waves of rain moving through the air. I picked up my pace.

Just as I was passing an apartment building, I thought I heard an indistinct yell from a man. But there was no person in sight. Now water was pouring over every roof and overwhelming every drain, so I didn’t have time to stop. Then there was another yell - this time I was sure. I turned to look behind me to see a man rounding the corner of the building waving me down with his arms.

Against my instincts telling me to get home quickly, I turned toward him. We ran to each other and met on a covered landing. He looked older, but I couldn’t tell his age. My guess is he looked older than he actually was. His face carried the wear of a hard life - emotional wounds manifesting in physical exhaustion.

I said hello. Hard to figure out what to say with violent weather all around us.

“You have anything?” he asked.

Ah, he was looking for drugs. Willing to chase me down in a rain storm because he thought I had drugs. Out scouring a drenched, wind-assaulted city because he needed drugs. Caught in an unexpected storm on his search for drugs. I’d been waved down many times like this before, probably because people still often perceive I’m an outsider to my city.

“No,” I replied.

“Damn it!” As abruptly as he appeared, he opened the door behind him and vanished into the apartment building. I walked the rest of the way home, the rain never letting up, thinking about our quick meeting in the storm.

Where had desire led this man? What had it led him toward and what had it taken him from? I imagined him working in the steel mill when he was younger. I imagined him with kids. How had his addiction interfered with his work? Were his kids able to be in relationship with him any longer? Had his body once been strong? Had his soul once felt hope?

And what about the desires beneath the desire? What were the hidden desires that would cause him to chase down a man he didn’t know in a violent thunderstorm to get some drugs? Did he want to escape his memories? Did he want to avoid the resentments? Did he want to soothe his disappointments? Did he even know what he wanted?

I’ve been thinking lately about how desires shape people and even whole communities, and it struck me that our strange meeting was made possible by desire. Here I was, longing for divine Presence and for the renewal of my city. Here he was, longing for a fix that might take him beyond his pain. Our respective desires for transcendence took us both outside into the rain, both for a walk, and caught us both in a storm. And somehow, our very different desires drove us together.

No doubt, desires can be more or less virtuous - they can inspire both honorable and evil behavior. The objects of our desiring paradoxically shape the noble goodness and also the violent conquests of even whole nations.

And yet, in this moment, I felt more sameness than difference between this man and me. Here we were, human. And to be human is to desire.

I think sometimes I’ve felt God’s love the most when I’ve sensed His Presence near the desires of humans - both in our Kingdom-aches and sin-lusts. I’ve sensed His compassion the most when He comes close to both good and wayward desires. Sometimes He shapes them in new directions. We call that repentance. Sometimes He satisfies our longing for righteousness. We call that answered prayer. But He’s always near the yearning of humans. Because He desires us.

Just for a second we stood face to face, the longing in our souls now visible in our eyes. Two men. And a storm with the thunder claps of God raged around us.