This is the third in our continuing
series of excerpts from the book “The Sacred Romance” by Brent Curtis
and John Eldredge (published by Thomas Nelson © 1997)
If God’s
experience of being “married” to us, who are His Beloved, is sometimes
that of being tied to a legalistic controller in the ways I’ve described
in the paragraphs on anesthetizing our heart, at other times it is more
like that of being married to a harlot whose heart is seduced from Him
by every scent on the evening breeze. In our psychological age, we have
come to call our affairs “addictions,” but God calls them “adultery.”
Listen again to his words to the Israelites through Jeremiah: “You are a
swift she-camel running here and there, a wild donkey accustomed to the
desert, sniffing the wind in her craving—in [your] heat [how can I]
restrain [you]? Any males that pursue [you] need not tire themselves; at
mating time they will find [you]. Do not run until your feet are bare
and your throat is dry” (Jer. 2:23-25). God is saying, “I love you and
yet you betray me at the drop of a hat. I feel so much pain. Can’t you
see we’re made for each other? I want you to come back to Me.” And
Israel’s answer, like that of any addict or adulterer is: “It’s no use!
I love foreign gods, and I must go after them” (Jer. 2:25).
Perhaps we can empathize with the ache God
experienced as Israel’s “husband” (and ours when we are living
indulgently). Having raised Israel from childhood to a woman of grace
and beauty, he astonishingly cannot win her heart from her adulterous
lovers. The living God of the universe cannot win the only one He loves,
not due to nay lack on His part, but because her heart is captured by
her addictions, which is to say, her adulterous lovers. Many of us have
had the experience of not being able to bridge the distance between
ourselves and others. Whether the distance is caused by unhealed wounds
or willful sin in our lover’s heart or our own—we experience their
rejection as our not “being enough” to win them. Unlike God, we begin to
think of ourselves as having a problem with self-esteem. Whereas God
became even more wild in his love for us by sending Jesus to die for our
freedom, most of us choose to both become and take on lovers that are
less wild. We give up desiring to be in a relationship of heroic
proportions, where we risk rejection, and settle for being heroes and
heroines in the smaller stories where we have learned we can “turn
someone on” through our usefulness, cleverness or beauty (or at least
turn ourselves on with a momentary taste of transcendence).