This post is part of the ‘Radical Simplicity Series’ confronting futile ways we seek to get our life on the right path. Exposing and addressing these matters of the heart is significant to what’s ahead for the Church. For context, if you haven’t already, you can read the first installment here.
Do you have the personality type that enjoys learning about your personality type?
Do you want to discover the real you and find the answers to difficult questions like: who am I, what is my main purpose on this planet, and which career path is compatible for me?
If your heart is thumping in anticipation for a pop-personality-quiz, I can relate, but this isn’t the blog for that.
Up until a few years ago, scanning results from personality tests was exhilarating. However, I haven’t taken another test or quiz since my Enneagram experience.
For those not familiar, the Enneagram (ennea = nine) is a categorizing system that uses nine personality types represented on a diagram to illustrate their interconnection. Alongside describing behavior and ability, it shows the selfish motives lurking behind them, exposing deep-rooted idols of our hearts.
After years of practicing the Enneagram, I was exhausted and losing faith when God offered me the red button—a nuclear option—to quit it all.
Here is how it came to that . . .
Who am I?
In preschool, I discovered that my three loves—pink, strawberries, and cuddling stuffed animals—matched me with the traits of my favorite character, Strawberry Shortcake. This news gave me confidence and a little pep in my step. Suddenly, I felt like a big girl who belonged in a story. I was hooked!
In middle school I graduated to the Which Disney Princess are You? quiz and teenage angst got real.
Princess Belle? I guess I relate to her—I stand up for myself, have brown hair, and I want adventure in the great wide somewhere (I want it more than I can tell)! But my nose isn’t stuck in a book (her most iconic trait), it’s stuck in sports. Why not Ariel collecting whosits and whatsits, or Jasmine with her wanderlust? Can I be more than one princess?
Will I ever sort out such a complicated identity?
The experience led me to ask deeper questions: Who am I? Where do I fit? Where does self-esteem come from?
I was God’s kid, but that tiny bit of identification seemed too simple-minded; definitely not enough to build a whole life on. Like Eve, tempted and hungry for more information, I found the world was eager to feed me from its tree of knowledge.
The allure of self-knowledge: confidence and meaning.
Over the next decade, I checked family histories and bloodlines, attended self-help conferences (you can read my thoughts on self-help here) and took a handful of popular personality tests in hopes that the pieces would eventually reveal the whole picture of me.
Each new find had a fresh perspective and gave a boost of, “Now-I-Know!” energy. But just like middle school, I still didn’t know how to sort myself.
Still searching for more.
By my late twenties, I was ready to get serious. No more splashing in the kiddie-pool of personality-pop-psychology; I pulled off the swimmies to climb the high-dive.
Celebrating my strengths: too easy. I was ready to mourn my sins.
Using strategic letters or entire words to describe myself: overkill. I was ready for a single number.
Modern tests: old-news. I was ready for ancient mysticism. . . I was ready for the Enneagram.
After taking the leap, I stayed in the same pool for the next decade.
The reality of self-knowledge: it restricts childlike faith.
The pool wasn’t a joyful, care-free pool; it felt more like a steam-filled hotel hot-tub shared with old men making quiet, unintelligible small talk. I was encouraged to appreciate all the truth I was learning and soak in it, but also cautioned against diving too deep.
Number types, wing numbers, integration, disintegration, being present and naked (or something like that), the vocabulary alone would keep me busy for months! The possibilities for understanding were boundless!
In place of testimonies, we shared book and pod-cast suggestions. Instead of light-hearted conversations about God’s goodness, we commiserated over our sinful motives.
With a sincere desire to know God more, I listened when prominent enthusiasts of self-knowledge promised it was the way to Him. Why wouldn’t I dive deeper?
I had a new goal: live each moment as my true self. However, I still didn’t have a handle on her, so I kept seeking. Since I knew better than to consult a horoscope, or dial a psychic hot-line for answers, I listened to weekly podcasts, attended talks and conferences, read books, and kept seeking.
The Enneagram was my own “Christian” zodiac; the lens I saw my world through.
I didn’t vocalize my appraisals of others, but I still had them. Honestly, I enjoyed secretly typing other people’s personalities. Perhaps you do to? Maybe you’ve already sorted me through your preferred categorization—words, letters, symbols, astrological sign, or number—I can’t defend myself, you probably hit the nail on the head!
But, “Therein lies the rub,” as they say. Much of what I discovered about myself was true.
The mystique and the trap of truth.
I’m not pitching self-knowledge is a lie, and therefore a waste of time. Quite the contrary!
Findings from tests like the Enneagram may be true, but it’s not the knowledge of good and evil that sets us apart from the unbeliever. “You believe there is one God? Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.” (James 2:19 NIV)
The pitch is: the truth of self-knowledge is not the Truth that sets us free. We are set apart because we call on Jesus Christ—a resurrected person—to set us free.
And while truth-seeking leads many to Jesus, once they come into relationship with Him, should we disciple them to continue the search?
As listening to God became an intellectual practice, I no longer approached Jesus or His word eagerly like a child, ready to explore, wonder, and ask my questions. Before I knew it, the Enneagram—seeking integration (perfection) along with avoiding dis-integration (isolation)—had all my attention. Joy and faith withered as inner contemplation and skepticism bloomed.
The fruit of self-knowledge: doubt and hopelessness.
One afternoon, while listening to a podcast on the importance of knowing my Enneagram Wing Numbers, I was overcome by a deep sense of hopelessness.
Over ten years of ‘progress’ in my Enneagram journey, yet I felt like a novice—no closer to making sense of it all.
I was exhausted, but couldn’t rest.
Questions and doubts swirled, but I didn’t capture, rebuke, or cast them down as if they were thoughts planted by the enemy. I reasoned they were deeply thoughtful, theological questions that a person of my age and maturity in the Lord should be asking. I kept the questions to myself (as if He didn’t know).
Why doesn’t Jesus talk about my root sin? Or mention my personality? Maybe it’s all on me to discover and act on them, and then He’ll trust me to navigate these deeper issues.
Is He holding out on me? Maybe He’s waiting to see how serious I am about being close to Him.
This is good news, right?
The Gospel of Jesus was looking less like good news for the poor, broken, and weary, and more like good, worthwhile, hard-work for the learned, academic, and wise. I believed God valued and required the inner work, but I wondered how my unbelieving friends and neighbors would ever accept this life as ‘good news’. I wasn’t enjoying “Christian living”, so how would they?
Months went by with no relief. Then one night, I finally cracked. As if the personality-pool had been given a command to drain itself, confessions flooded out of me to Jesus.
“I feel my search for true identity is keeping me from feeling close to you, but how can that be? I’m doing all of this to feel closer to you—isn’t this what you want?”
That’s when Jesus offered me an option I didn’t know was available:
“No Merry, I don’t need any extra information to be close to you, and you don’t need it to draw close to me. I know you intimately, and I’ll tell you who you are as you stick with me. Would you like to finally trash all of the self-knowledge fluff you’ve accumulated?“
I’d never heard such good news! Heavy weight and pressure across my shoulders, neck, and back immediately lifted. Like a child saved by my hero, I jumped into my Father’s arms of love.
Truth is relational.
Jesus is alive and speaking! He offers Himself as Truth we can relate with, feel, and hear.
Spending time in the presence of Truth (instead of knowledge) and beholding Him (instead of myself), I get caught up in the grand story where He gets all the glory for what He makes of me.
He doesn’t need anything we bring to the table! We don’t need to present our knowledge, skills, abilities, or self-awareness to Him. We’ve already been chosen, and He knows how to accomplish His plan through us. All He needs is a child-like partner, ready to enjoy the adventure together.
Jesus has the words of life. Come as a child, behold Truth, and let Truth embrace you. The answers to your questions of identity, purpose, meaning and belonging are discovered only in relationship with Him.
