Internal Rivalry
Growing up in evangelical Christianity makes for a difficult adulthood—at least for me. The process of indoctrination caused deep wounds. The ideas of Angry God1 and hell2 created a deep sense of anxiety. On top of that, the concept of sacrifice deepened this anxiety and exacerbated it with a feeling of insufficiency.
I remember many instances of sacrificial thinking growing up in an evangelical bubble. One of those moments was during my senior year in high-school. The Christian school that I attended was a mixture of cool and weird. One of the leaders of the school was one of the leading youth ministry specialists in some Evangelical circles in Latin America. As a result, we had the cool preachers and singers sharing during chapel time and camps very often. On the strange side, we were a mixture of middle to lower class kids, with a very few exceptions. Very few excelled academically, many struggled with behavioral issues, and the rest of us tried to survive high-school by any means necessary.
Part of the extra-curricular activities involved one camp a year. It was the one thing that we looked forward to during the year. The teachers, staff, and Christian education department workers did a really good job in creating a great deal of expectation about it. Part of the camp experience for the seniors included a night in which kids were supposed to decide whether to go into full-time ministry or secular vocations. The camp design led to this one night.
I remember the bonfire time when I decided to sacrifice my life to work in full-time ministry. I was very conflicted about it. I was not ready to make such a decision. However, the environment, the crying, and the music of that one camp night made me feel I needed to sacrifice something. I needed to sacrifice my dreams. At the time, I wanted to study economics and/or philosophy. That night, however, I decided to bring my dreams and desires to the altar of full-time ministry. I killed them. I gave them up. And I did not look back at them until many years later. As a result, it took me several years to heal from the resentment towards God for asking me to sacrifice my desires that night. Little did I know, It was not God who asked for it. It was the community, the leaders, and the idol of evangelical full-time ministry.
Growing up with a sacrificial mentality creates the perfect environment for internal rivalries. Internal rivalry is the recurring conflict between the idols that we have created in our lives, for they are constantly asking for sacrifices. These false gods are the result of our misplaced desires. And, these desires come from imitating somebody else’s desires in a way that creates rivalry.
Misplaced desires may take the shape of something that looks like a vocation or a call. However, they quickly turn into idols when they start asking for sacrifices. Consequently, the size of the offering doesn’t matter. What matters is that the idols stay fed with our blood, sweat, and tears. I can identify three idols through my life. Though, I am sure there are many more I am not ready to name.
The first false god is academicism. For many years, I wanted to be like my mentors and professors. I believed that I had to sacrifice my time, relationships, and other dreams in order to become a respected scholar. The idol of academicism asked me to sacrifice family time, money, and more. Another idol is exemplary manhood, in other words, to not be like my dad. If I wanted to be a better spouse and father, the idol of exemplary manhood would ask for the sacrifice of research and writing time. As a result, I resented those who seemed to have the time to pursue their dreams. Finally, there is the idol of activism with the most vulnerable. This false god asked for the sacrifice of my time, money, and even relationships; being with and for the most vulnerable became a purity test. I ended up pushing away people who did not pass it. In sum, my idols are: academicism, exemplary manhood, and activism. None of these things are bad, so to speak. However, my relationship with each one of those desires became unhealthy, and the desires became inordinate attachments.
I was (am?) in internal and external rivalry. Externally, I ended up all tangled in rivalries with other friends and colleagues. I was envious of those who looked like they had their stuff together to be and do good. Internally, these three idols were constantly pulling me in different ways. They wanted more blood, sweat, and tears. I felt divided from within. I couldn’t please either of them because I had to sacrifice other things in order to achieve those misplaced desires turned into idols.
In order to heal from internal rivalry, I’ve had to retrain my brain, my body, my soul, my whole being. I’ve had to make peace with the fact that God is not asking me to sacrifice anything. It is my idolatrous behavior and rivalistic imitation of others what asks me for a costly offering. Understanding this has allowed me to see that there is a difference between vocation and desire. Vocation is what we are called to and what calls forth life in us. Desires, well, come and go as our models change.
Nowadays, I try my best to keep my vocation clear: to become a more integrated human every day, like Jesus. I try to invite others into becoming more whole with me by extending an invitation into the circle of my own joy. This has opened the space for me to recenter my desires. This view of life has helped me to shatter the idols that kept me captive for a long time. My writing and academic work, being a better spouse and father, and serving with and for the most vulnerable are in the service of becoming a more integrated human, becoming human in and through community. These desires respond to the vocation of restoring and reimagining our humanity in the context we live in.
Reflection questions
what are the desires that divide you from within?
Who are the people who help you recenter your desires?
What are the desires that divide you from within?
Good question. I remember at a young age wondering if people would love me for me in the future or if they would tolerate me for what they could get out of me like a farmed friendship. It compelled me to apply myself to my studies but eventually collapsed when I met my wife who actively (and thankfully) retrained my brain to disconnect my thinking process from the authoritative voices.
Who are the people who help you recenter your desires?
Meeting my wife was my first exposure to a wild theologian--her discernment is through the roof when it comes to certain things, but doesn't tolerate abstract conversations for very long. Every conversation has multiple ties to reality and it helps me to ask better questions about my desires.
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I too have been wrestling through my desires as it pertains to mimesis. Very often the sacrifices asked of me are sacrifices of the primary interface for the sake of the secondary interface. Christians can't be friends with non-Christians, shouldn't be involved in Sunday Sports, shouldn't participate in social gatherings like dances, shouldn't rest with non-believers in body, soul, and spirit through the consumption of alcohol or mind altering substances. All of these sacrifices ensure we have no excuse to skip out on church to engage in primary interfacial activities. I carry those and other categories in my body and they very often dictate what I do and don't do in the presence of people I don't know. I recentre but most importantly I carry them in me like any bad idea and hold them captive, not allowing them to escape to my children. If my children bring home any of these infections of the Anthrohead I help them as best I can to take captive the disease within themselves and be their go-to to recentre.