Discernment, Direction & Devotion
By: Jolene Macaluso
Marvel’s recent popular movies like ‘Spider-man: Into the Spider-verse’ and ‘Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness,’ render the philosophical physics theory into a more tangible concept for the average human being. After their release, the idea of ‘the multiverse’ grew rapidly in intrigue and commonality because of the human appeal of the concept: the thought that each individual decision, each choice that we make, could bear such significant weight that entire alternate universes might spring into existence following the chain reaction of paths not taken. On the one hand, this concept brings a newfound attention and appropriate level of responsibility to our smaller decisions. On the other, we fall into the chasm of agonizing over the teeniest decisions because of that nagging question: what if…?
After the curious child’s refrain of ‘why,’ the question of “what if?” arises with greatest frequency in life. Anxious minds toss it to and fro between varying scenarios, trying desperately to determine the best one so we can confidently step forward without fear of failure, or of the unknown. But rarely does mere will prevail, and we often stress to no other end than prematurely unraveling our telomeres.
Human beings are not computers, so analytical action (and language) falls short of the complexities of the human condition and emotion, not to mention the unknown variables of life. Unpredictable. Chalk it up to that, and call it a day. We can’t know, so why try? This latter attitude treats life as if we live in the Matrix, and each decision truly doesn’t matter, since it’s all programmed anyways, determined for us in a Deistic, Clock-maker kind of singular world.
Too much human responsibility and not enough: the impossible balance to strike. Yet life demands that we
must try. Without getting carried away on a sea of anxiety or allowing ourselves to become passive, we must strive to find a way to walk the invisibly thin line of responsibility and trust. We must ask the ‘what ifs’
and the ‘whys’ so that, like a spider web caught in the sunlight, the light of truth may reveal the line we are
to follow.
We must seek answers because we’re made to. “All human beings stretch themselves out to know,” as Aristotle
observes in his Metaphysics; to know that which God veils.
It is the glory of God to conceal things, but the glory of kings to search things out (Proverbs 25:2).
Most often, we frame this as a question of discernment. Sometimes, it’s a bigger question, like which job we
should pursue after college or who we should marry. Those are the predictable ones, even if the answers feel
anything but predictable. As Christians, we constantly seek to know God’s will in both the predicted aspects
of life and those unpredictable ones, and this is good. It is to God’s glory and our own that this search be
made—and that it should even exist.
Like a father reading his favorite book to his daughter for the first time, God delights in our search, in
our curiosity for what’s to come, in our hunger for the written words familiar to Him but new to us. As we
trustingly sit on His knee and lift our hand to His to hurry the turning of the page, we unknowingly glorify
Him with our unspoken trust, our subconscious joy, and our desire for the next part paralleling His to bring
its coming.
That fine line of discernment between the Matrix and the Multiverse comes when we walk in the direction of
the narrow gate and when we devote ourselves to God.
“…Hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day
our daily bread…” The Lord’s Prayer is a prayer of discernment. Christ perfectly modeled for us the human
alignment of our will with God’s in this prayer and in His life. He prayed for the cup of the Cross to pass from
Him if possible, but, if not, for God’s will to be done, that He might glorify the Father and the Father
glorify Him as He redeemed all those the Father gave Him.
We can pray for undesirable things to pass us by and desirable ones to come our way, so long as we conclude
with acknowledging and desiring God’s sovereign will. He perfectly holds His sovereignty and our
responsibility in balance, and He is the Giver of all good things.
Like watching those movies for the first time, in the end, it will all make a glorious kind of sense—far more
satisfying than the conclusion to the Matrix or Doctor Strange—and we will praise God for the perplexing gift
of discernment.
