Sparking Desire

During my seminary years, I was formed and shaped, inducted, into a way of being human and Christian that was focused on the affirmation and repetition of a set of doctrines and moral beliefs, instead of encouraging me to think theologically about the world. It was not until I found other models outside of my immediate environment that I dared to ask questions, challenge my upbringing, and engage in a different way of doing theology. I cannot pride myself on finding my own models. I can go as far as to acknowledge the friends, mentors, and teachers that sparked my desire. As I look back, they all have one or more of these three things—flints so to speak—that sparked my desire to imitate somebody else.

Christmas in Guatemala means fireworks. My photo app has many pictures of sparklers and fireworks.

The first flint that sparked my desire is asking beautiful questions. When I was in high-school, I was a terrible student. In 9th grade, I was about to fail all of my classes. I was at risk of not having a space to come back to the same school the next year. One of my Christian education teachers believed in me. He called me to the counseling office, and he asked me a question. He said: “dude, you have so much you can give to our community. However, you are wasting away with your behavior and grades. What do you really want?” I was caught by surprise by his question. Nobody had asked me what I wanted up to that point in my life. In fact, most people kept demanding results and specific behaviors from me. Some people wanted me to be a leader. Others wanted me to be an example of good behavior. My parents just wanted good grades. But, nobody had asked me what I truly desired. So, I thought for a few minutes and responded: “I just want to get the hell out of here and be done with high-school.” Then, he said: “You got it. I will help you with that. You don’t have to be a straight A student, just pass your grades and graduate. Can we agree to that?” So, we shook hands and moved on. A few weeks later, he got really sick and died six months after we had our conversation. I graduated a year later.

There are many instances in the gospels in which Jesus asks a question instead of just performing a miracle or giving an answer. He asked: “what do you want me to do?” to the blind man, Bartimaeus, in Mark 10. He questioned his soon-to-be disciples in John 1 by asking: “What do you want?” These and many other questions were specifically oriented to tap into people’s desires. Jesus was a master of sparking desire through asking beautiful questions.

The second flint that sparked my desire is to be aware of rivalry. Many years ago, I was working with a friend in different projects. We were dreaming of ways to develop theological training that could serve a Global network of grassroots leaders. As the work grew, I started to question many of my friend’s ideas and methods. My questioning, however, did not come from a place of love or desire for growth. they came from a place of rivalry and competition. I wanted to be in charge.

At some point, my friend and I had a phone call and he said: “I really want to work with you. I cannot keep fielding your questions when you join others who are in contentious disagreement and try to poke holes into what we are doing. If you have unsolved internal rivalries deal with them. But it is not fair to take them out on me. You have nothing to prove to me. I am for and with you. I am your friend. Can we do this together?” His words shook me to the core, for I knew that my motivations were fueled by rivalry. I was ganging up with others against my friend because my identity was formed over and against him. Even when, he was a mentor and a dear friend. As a result of our conversation, we committed to each other as friends, not rivals. I also made the commitment to work out my internal rivalries and motivations.

In Scripture, we can also see many examples of this awareness of rivalry. We can see John the Baptist understanding that he needs to step aside for Jesus to carry out his ministry (Jn 3). We also see in Mark 8 how Jesus becomes aware of Peter’s desires coming in conflict with his calling. And, by calling Peter out: “Get behind me Satan!” Jesus refuses to let himself come into rivalry with Peter.

My friend didn’t call me Satan. Though, he would have been right to do so. I was getting nastier by the day. However, his gentle approach to confront my rivalry with him opened the space for both of us to heal and grow together. His awareness of rivalry sparked my desire. I saw in him something that I wanted to have. As a result, he has become one of my closest mentors and friends over the years.

Finally, I believe that transparency and vulnerability can spark desire and positive imitation in others. As I grow older, I desire and enjoy meaningful conversations. When people share about who they truly are and what they really desire, I feel something pulling me in their direction. I notice it more and more as deep and good friends are scarce in this life. This does not happen over night. But I can tell when somebody is willing to move from superficiality to transparency, and then to vulnerability. This is risky business, though. We can fall into the temptation of premature proximity, which creates a false sense of intimacy. For that reason, those who have sparked my desire in the last couple of years are people who are in the process of becoming friends. We started by sharing something in common. Then, we moved to be transparent about what we think, believe, and love. And after a couple of years, we are moving to being vulnerable with each other.

It is great to see examples of these flints that spark desire in the narrative of Scripture, but to experience and be aware of the moments when others spark our desire creates a deeper understanding of what we can do when we open the space for positive imitation. In sum, the flints that spark my desire are: asking beautiful questions, self-awareness of rivalry, and the willingness to be transparent and vulnerable.