Proverb 13:19

“A desire accomplished is sweet to the soul,
But it is an abomination to fools to depart from evil.”

This Proverb seems to be stating the obvious when it says that “a desire accomplished is sweet to the soul,” but it’s actually much more sophisticated than that. In his book Surprised by Joy, C.S. Lewis said “joy is an unsatisfied desire that is more desirable than any other satisfaction.” In other words, desires can be tricky. They bring delight and are pleasant but they can also be the breeding grounds for such things as greed, envy and lust in our hearts. They can produce both life and death. Therefore, it can be more pleasant to forego certain desires than it would be to fulfill them. Plus, not all desires created equal. Some are more desirous than others, which leaves us to arrange the desirers according to their degree of desirableness and decipher which to attain and in what order. 

Is my desire for a slice of pizza equivalent to my desire for a spouse? Hardly. But suppose it was. Wouldn’t that be indicative of something inside my heart? Just as the fact that I long for a spouse far more than I do a slice of pizza is indicative of something else in my heart. Both desires belong to me, and thus reveal something about me. And then there’s my general desire for food. Perhaps that one is the most desired thing of them all. Or you might say I desire to live above all. What then, of eternal life? A desire can be traced, you see? It can reveal my ultimate ideals. It can show me my gods. 

Some desires are inherent. Like the desire to uphold the law written on our hearts (Romans 2:15). Shame and remorse are evidence of that desire. Or the necessities like oxygen and nutrition. We desire these deeply, as well as the more subtle every day niceties like beauty and scents, sounds and flavors. There are ranks when it comes to our desires. 

But some things are true of all desires, as a quick study of the Hebrew word taavah points out: they satisfy, delight and charm; they are something we wish for, can turn into something we covet and have the inclination to lord a heart with lust. 

So an internal war wages to obtain the things we wish for, yet to simultaneously ward off their rulership. There’s an interesting Hebrew phrase, qibrowth hat-Ta’a-vah, which translates “graves of the longing, a place in the desert”. I wonder if this isn’t referencing the desires we must lay to rest—like those of the Jewish people who longed to return to slavery in Egypt when they found themselves in the desert. Egypt is no Promised land. Nor are the second-class desires we mistake for  the first-rate kind. In a sense, certain desires have to be put to death and buried in the grave. 

Or, are they so buried once they’re achieved—a thing of the past because the desire is fulfilled and thus extinguished? After all, a desire accomplished is what the Proverb calls sweet to the soul. It is “accomplished” when it comes to pass, is fulfilled. The Hebrew definition equates something “accomplished” to a beacon as opposed to a thing buried in dirt and covered in darkness. It’s root hava’ contrasts qibroth hat-Ta’a-vah, as it means “to breathe.” When something is accomplished, it takes on an existence, almost like a living thing.

So a desire fulfilled shines like a bright beacon and is given life; in a sense, it turns on. It lights up the way for sailors as they search the seas for land. A fulfilled desire lights up and reveals the way. Therefore, it is sweet. It is pleasant and agreeable. I love the visual painted in a Hebrew synonym for “sweet”. Arab: to braid, i.e. intermix, technically, to traffic (as if by barter); or give to be security (as a kind of exchange).

In the way that a braid—three (or more) separate pieces weave in and through each other—to display something beautiful, so do our desires.If we weave them just so, they become like a piece of art. So we barter and exchange those less desirable things (people, opportunities, tasks, etc.) for those more desirous. We weave and tuck and pull, putting every desire in its place. Sometimes we barter even the most desired things and bury the carnal longings for the ultimate joy and satisfaction of the soul—the breathing thing.

If accomplishing [a desire] is to breathe and the soul is a breathing creature, you could say that fulfilling our desires is the very thing that revives. Turns it on. Gives it breath in it’s lungs. The word for soul comes from naphash which illuminates this as a passive act—that we are actually breathed upon. 

I wonder, then, if the spirit of God, who breathes his life into us isn’t using our unique and inherent desires for the very purpose of pleasing and refreshing us. For reviving our souls to new life. I wonder if our desires aren’t much more than something that fulfills us. But something that resuscitates the dead back to new life when they are properly bartered, ordered and braided. Or if it is simply pointing to the fact that He is the ultimate desire—the only thing that gives life, offers breath and beauty and lights up our world with wonder. Or what if we are his ultimate desire? That by breathing life into us, we accomplished his desire? I wonder if all of these can be true at once? 

The bottom line is this: there is something in our desires that is worthy of pursuit. It may not always be clear what we are to pursue, or how to go about the pursuit. Maybe that’s what a lifetime is for: deciphering their proper order.

Certainly, though, the enemy tries to capitalize on these passions and distort our desires; unwind the braid, return the wares, deplete the beauty and siphon the joy. Offer endless empty pleasures in their place. Erect invisible temples for the walking dead to pay their homage to idols associated with these pleasures. Christen their offices and bedrooms, vehicles, wardrobes, relationships and dishes with fervid and volatile desires. Induct them into hell’s quarters with subtle perversions. He twists the truth, mimicking the beautiful braid with lies that can hardly be detected. For they, too, seem to be beautiful. Or at very least, pleasant.

Here’s where the next part of the Proverb comes in to play, showing us how to clear the confusion, narrow the path and continue on The Way:

A fool would think a departure from evil to be morally disgusting and abhorrent—an abomination. It’s rare that you see someone abhorring righteousness outright, though. It’s far more common, rather, for such a fool to be more subtle and discreet than that. More in keeping with the traditions of the father of lies: repugnance of virtue is disguised. Shame dresses up like pride, men dress like women and evil hides its motives behind these costumes. Terms like love, compassion, equality and acceptance make them sound virtuous. So much so that one can deceive themselves. And be blind to their own idolatry They would think it foolish to depart from their evil ways. And they would loathe anyone who embraces virtuous things, asserting that it’s an abomination to be “hateful” and “unloving”. How’s that for a wolf in sheeps clothing?

It’s no wonder the modern person is making all kinds of alterations to their external body (piercings, tattoos, breast augmentations, liposuction, butt implants, botox, mastectomies and genital prosthetics). There is something lurking from within that tries to hide behind these external facades. 

But we were warned of such heresies:

Isaiah 5:20-21 says “woe to those who call evil good, and good evil; who put darkness for light, and light for darkness; who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!”

Romans 8:7 says “the carnal mind is enmity against God; for it is not subject to the law of God, nor indeed can be.”

Proverbs 21:2 says “every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the Lord weighs the hearts.”

And Jeremiah 17:9 would remind us that “the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.”

But this isn’t about those people. And if I read it as such, I become one of those people, if, on the off chance, I wasn’t already one of their kind. Because I’ve missed the plank in my own eye. For there are evil things I think good. There are laws I have not kept. I think my sins are justified. My heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked.” What about the modest clothes I hide behind when my heart is raging with lust? What about the kind words I speak when I am filled with anger and rage? Lest I think myself a saint, I ask myself these questions. 

“Now the works of the flesh are evident, which are: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lewdness, idolatry, sorcery, hatred, contentions, jealousies, outbursts of wrath, selfish ambitions, dissensions, heresies, envy, murders, drunkenness, revelries, and the like; of which I tell you beforehand, just as I also told you in time past, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.” (Galatians 5: 19-21)

That is the point. Not that their hearts are those things. For if I can identify the wickedness in my heart, I can invite the promises of God to begin his transformative work and turn this heart of stone into flesh; to accomplish the greatest of all desires and bind it to him. To accomplish something sweet to the soul, indeed.

So, we’re all heretics. (To be sure, if I don’t identify as a heretic, yet have engaged in any of the activities listed in Galatians 5 above, I’ve outed myself as such. I’ve exposed my double-mindedness). What now? The danger, I see, is when we call the evil we are doing “good”. When we embrace it. When we accept it and assume departing from it is an abomination. This is silly and stupid. We puff ourselves up with foolish and pious thoughts that we have it figured out. 

But God would have us struggle with the answers. He would have us wrestle with the notions of good and evil that we might prevail against the latter. He told Jacob, “your name shall no loner be called Jacob, but Israel; for you have struggled with God and with men and have prevailed.” He wasn’t named for his righteousness as the conservatives would have it nor for his compassion, as the liberals would suggest. But he gives us a new name when we identify the evil in our own heart and ensue a battle against it. It’s a hardship. But if we give up the fight, that’s the equivalent of embracing evil—and that’s when we’re in danger.