Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Out of body experience

It should come as no surprise that to misunderstand sanctity is to misunderstand sanctification.

I came to the end of myself today. True, I'd reached that awful rock bottom before and I feel with certainty that I'll visit it again, but I was still somehow surprised when around 7:30 this evening I folded my arms, laid my head back and felt the sudden euphoric impulse of the life slowly leaking from my extremities. The day was long you see, and when you add frustration conversations to the mix it just made for a potent blend of inadequacy.

I soon realized that moving was going to be more of a task than normal, but instead of fighting the pull I simply surrendered to the warm ache that ran through my body. My eyelids weighed heavier by the second, and before long I was in that strange land between sleep and awareness, like a drunkard swinging wildly at things that he neither knows are real or fiction. In this moment, I felt my life slip away further and wondered if this must be what it feels like to die...the moment soul leaves body and moves on to better things...

For a brief second, I felt that I had left the shell and could see myself from another perspective, a better perspective. There was nothing left to fight, because there was no energy to be spent. The lifeless body I saw on the couch seemed so lacking, so unfit, but full of potential at the same time. The body's potential could never be met though through its own power, and in fact, it actually had the opposite effect when self-imposed, slowly developing into a debilitating paralysis. Why did it come to this? Was there no other way?

My understanding of sanctity is so crude. Something so pure and holy must require a heavy price, but I imagine it as something so easily attained, almost like it's something that can be bought or bargained for. This is my selfish self. This side of me lacks objectiveness completely, because I can't realize that to be set apart does not include the word "easy." Yet, somehow I'm surprised that to be Christ-like could be so costly. Sanctification means that I'm ready to deny all personal interests that make myself larger and accept everything that broadens my interests in everything related to Christ, so that I can become like him. It can't be both, but I think much of my life is spent saying "yes, I want Christ," and then turning and entertaining the things that bring temporary comfort and immediate distraction, because I grow weary of the fight or frustrated with my own undoing. To follow Christ means to abandon these things that point my attention to other gods...probably most importantly myself.

Sanctity sounds so pretty, so beautiful. But struggle, battle and brokenness are much more appropriate words in these out of body moments when I realize who and what I am, my own limitations and glimpse a waning shadow of what it takes to be sanctified. How could this ever be an easy experience? How could I ever work under the notion that something inside this faulty frame could foster this process? Sanctification is a wonder. It's is so much bigger, so much more purposeful than I understand on a day-to-day basis. I take it too lightly.