Put Off Self Will, Put On God’s Will

The New Man: Part 5

By Sandra Salib


Walking into an Orthodox church is an overwhelming experience – the incense, the candles and architecture never fail to grab your attention, transporting you to another place – a heavenly sanctuary, the House of God. Slightly elevated, ornamenting the walls of the church are icons, saints who are the exemplars of the spirituality we strive for, seemingly peering at the people entering. It is often said that these saints are amidst the church congregation, praising and praying with us, but they appear to reflect a spirituality which seems so above us, so distant and out-of-reach. We sit in church pews, longing for change, yet as soon as we walk out of the heavy, wooden doors, we are back in the world, as if returning to reality from a dream, unscathed. 

It wouldn’t be contentious to say that our world today is a busy one. We’re occupied – working, studying, going out, getting fit – and while all these pursuits seem to be for our own growth and development, it puts us in a selfish oblivion, so distracted that we fail to consider anything that lies outside of our personal bubble. 

The saints we see in icons are amidst us. To this day, 260 million Christians around the world are persecuted for their faith. They are martyrs of the present day. Needless to say, improving their lives isn’t in the question. Having a life at all is what consumes their minds. 

Everything they’ve wanted – their desires, passions, hobbies – are all trivial. Their own will means nothing – they are subject to the will of another without question. 

We are lucky enough, in the Western world, to have the liberty of choice. We have the freedom to believe what we want to believe and do what we want to do. 

But to choose to submit your will to another? 

In a world that upholds the autonomy of the individual, that can be hard. Very hard. It’s almost like social suicide. You are fortunate enough to get to choose what you want, lay out your whole life for yourself, and then you’re going to let someone dictate your life for you? It doesn’t make sense. And who are you going to listen to? A supernatural being in the sky who you’ve never seen? It’s a hard pass. 

But is this who our God is? Is this how we, as his children, see him?

Our God is a loving, kind Father. Our God is all-knowing and all-powerful. Our God shepherds us and guides us to the path where we should go. He cares for us, and knows the details of our futures more than we could imagine. 

This isn’t how we see His Son. Jesus, begotten of the Father, came down from heaven so that we may have a personal relationship with him. He lived a life of humility, and submitted His life to the Father as an example for us.

This isn’t how we see the Holy Spirit, who moves through our hearts like the wind, leading and guiding us as a soft breeze, whispering where we should go. 

Of course, we know God is a mighty, powerful being. But the way in which he so freely loves, and gives, and has compassion, surely does not characterise a fire-and-brimstone, wrathful entity. It illustrates an image of a God who walked upon a fork in the road and, like us, had a choice. There wasn’t even much of a choice at all – He knew the journey would be difficult. He knew he would be spited and spat upon by generations upon generations of these creatures whom He loved and created. But this God, who we push to the side, this very God took the narrow path, and submitted His power and glory for us. 

When we put on God’s will, we put on the armour of God: the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shoes of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit. 

But we must also feel protected by this armour and let our guard down, to let God’s Spirit move through us and guide us. So that we can be still, and listen. To put away our pride and to feel prepared, as the five wise virgins, as the faithful servant waiting for his masters’ arrival, as the wedding guests dressed appropriately for the great banquet. We need to take off our self will, to let go of the wheel and trust that God will lead us to the path where we should go. 

To live as God intended us to will always be one of the greatest struggles for man. But our life is a path full of decisions. And when we come across a fork in the road, we should see Christ running, without hesitation, down a rocky, narrow path and never looking back. With His hands raised, calling out your name, running to bring you in His fatherly embrace. For He, a deity, submitted all for our weak, mortal selves so that we could have salvation. Is submitting to Him for our own selfish good not the least we could do in return?