Scripture tells us: Turn away from your desires Sirach 18:30. And in the Prayer too we ask God that his will be done in us Matthew 6:10. We are rightly taught not to do our own will, since we dread what Scripture says: There are ways which men call right that in the end plunge into the depths of hell Proverbs 16:25. (Rule of St. Benedict 7.19-22)
You don’t need to wait for eternity to see the train wreck. The bitter rewards of folly are everywhere exhibited around us. How agonizing to watch as people you care about make foolish choices and then inflict the consequences on others. Like King Lear they resent honest advice and choose instead to listen to flattery. They reject offers of help and surround themselves with toxic influences that justify their decisions. They go from delusion to destruction and leave sorrow in their wake. Like the Fool, you trail along in the aftermath: faithful, sorrowful, impotent.
Or not. If you have a will of iron, for the love of mercy bend it to conform to the truth. Sometimes that means diverging from those who have been companions. There are others following behind you who deserve to arrive at destination safely. Granted that it’s impossible for any human being to act always with perfect insight. So, commit yourself to the will of the One who knows everything, and who is always, everywhere working for good. This is what you’re doing when you pray the Lord’s Prayer: “Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.” You subordinate your will to the will of God. You align yourself with his plan and trust his Spirit to guide you through this world and into redemption.
It’s not that we never make independent decisions or take spontaneous action. We don’t wait around for a special revelation about every detail of our lives. God is not a micromanager. God is a delegator. Jesus compares our relationship with God to that of a steward whose master has gone away on a journey, and with whom there’s no communication. He doesn’t know when the master will return, and he’s on his own with his responsibilities (Matthew 25:14-30.) God entrusts us with enormous freedom to act at our own discretion–more freedom than we want.
Subordinating your will means that when you have the impulse to depart from his command, you don’t bestow on yourself permission to disobey. This temptation can come even after years of righteous living, as another steward parable describes (Matthew 24:45-51.) It’s tough when you find that your practice of the Christian character, rather than earning you the respect and gratitude of those you’ve helped, actually inspires their contempt. When someone to whom you’ve always been kind abuses you, it calls into question your mode of relating to others. There’s a natural impulse toward revenge. And yet, life depends on curving off to the good.
This includes speaking out. The record of Scripture and of the Church shows models who speak cogently and forcefully. We don’t subordinate our will to the will of everyone we meet. Still less do we defer to the collective will of any group. On the contrary, knowing what’s right and wrong–based on the standard of Scripture and of the Church, rather than on a code of convenience–we have the courage to stand firm, and to protest.
We don’t see what lies around the bend into the future. But the message of redemption is that when we align our will with God’s will–even when we’re not sure where that’s going to take us–a whole new vista opens up. There is a path forward, through whatever terrain we find ourselves in, over the horizon and into eternity.
(“We can but trust God,” says the parson in Dorothy Sayers’ The Nine Tailors. Read it once for the detective story. Then come back to it for the flashes of spiritual insight.)