Human Destiny

“We want to control our own destiny.” That statement still echoes in this writer’s ears long after hearing it spoken by an elderly woman testifying before a committee of state legislators.

Those words give expression to a zeal for political and social change that many spiritual traditions of the world would endorse. What the woman said can be understood as a form of love for one’s neighbor, a love that traditions such as Judaism and Christianity, among others, highly approve.

It can also be understood as the expression of a need for political and social independence, a spirited refusal to be written off, or even patronized, by those in power. One can only applaud this assertion.

But, on a deeper level, none of us, however powerful, can control our own destiny. At least, that is how persons deeply grounded in spirituality would see it. Instead, they would locate personal destiny in the hands of God.

Another expression of destiny centered in the individual person came more recently in the final statement of Timothy McVeigh, executed for his mass murder in Oklahoma City. As his last testament, he chose a famous nineteenth century poem by the Englishman William Ernest Henley to express his view of human life.

The best known lines of that poem are the last two: “I am the master of my fate / I am the captain of my soul.” These sentiments express a romantic viewpoint popular in the Victorian era when Great Britain was riding high and the sun never set on its empire. Looked at now, these sentiments sound naïve and thoroughly unrealistic. It was sad to hear Mr. McVeigh using them for his farewell, rather than words that might express at least a measure of regret at his monstrous deeds.

Is human destiny ours to manage or does it ultimately depend on the work of a higher being? That is the crucial issue vital for each person to determine. Modernity seems almost to require the answer that we are in complete charge of ourselves. However, huge numbers of people have discovered a different answer.

Two of the classical teachings in the Western tradition of spirituality that bear on the question have been called providence and abandonment. Both names are admittedly old-fashioned these days but the reality underlying them remains vital for many people who are searching for ways to ground their lives in the deepest reality.

Providence might be translated as divine caring. It is closely joined to God’s action in creating the world. It means that God cares about the world and watches over it with solicitude. The fall of a sparrow, the welfare of each human being matters to the maker of all creatures.

Jesus gives poetic expression to these ideas in the Sermon on the Mount. There he speaks of the God who takes care of the lilies of the field whose splendor is “greater than Solomon in all his glory.” He urges his followers to put aside anxiety and instead trust to the Father of all creation.

Applied to personal spirituality, providence is related to the effort to decide what God wants of us. As one theologian sees it, providence is practical: it helps one “to discern God’s will in accordance with time and circumstance, to attune oneself to his calls, to distinguish between trials sent from God and devilish temptations, and to persevere in faith even through severe struggles.”

The other theme, abandonment, can be understood as letting-go. It is closely related to providence because it means the surrender of self to God. It implies a trust that God will take care of you, no matter what lies in store.

Jesus serves as a  model  of letting go, especially when he abandoned himself to the Father as he suffered on the cross. That is the meaning of his words “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” These words from a Hebrew Psalmswere probably known to Jesus as he grew up at home and may have often formed the content of his prayer.

Many other people committed to spirituality have used these words as a daily theme in their prayer. Those especially who have suffered serious illness have had recourse to this way of confiding in God. Though this kind of letting go may seem extreme and even irrational to people for whom God remains distant and uncaring, these words have brought peace of soul to many in times of stress and hardship.

Richard Griffin