Our faith is not a static, unchanging thing, an acceptance of truth that springs fully formed into existence and then remains at that state of being forever. Rather, because it involves a relationship as well as an intellectual acceptance, and because even that intellectual acceptance must be continually renewed and strengthened to survive the natural changes of our emotions, bodies, and environment, faith must be living and dynamic. If we do not feed it with truth, or support it against the weight of negative emotions, or encourage it with reminders of the work of God in our past, it will eventually wither and decrease, and in so doing will draw our hearts away from God. For faith is what pulls us toward Him; it is the tow-line reaching from our hearts to His. Thus, if we neglect that cable - if we fail to make it fast around our hearts, or if we allow the storm to fray it and choose not to repair the damage - our pull toward God will not be as strong, and we will find ourselves drifting in the seas. And without His guidance, our souls are very likely to run aground or capsize: in short, to shipwreck.
So, then, it is crucial for us to intentionally nurture and build up our faith. How do we do this? First, and most essentially, we choose to believe. Critical thinking does not injure faith, but dogmatic skepticism will. So having come already to the conclusion that Christianity is true (as we must have, if we've reached this point of strengthening and maintaining our faith), we need to approach the Bible, Christian teachings, sermons, songs, and so forth with an attitude of belief - of receiving all that is true and that we can understand into the depths of our hearts, of accepting those truths with willingness to change our attitudes and actions in response to them. All the outward signs of faith, the Bible studies and Scripture memorization, the regular attendance at church, will not strengthen our faith if we have hardened our hearts to their influence. But of course those things are also important! They are the means by which we take in the truth that will strengthen our faith.
When we have set our wills to believe, and are feeding our faith a steady diet of truth from the word of God, we are in a good position, but nothing in this world is secure. Our emotions may rise up in a storm too great for our will to resist, and threaten to sink our little ship of faith, or our circumstances may seem to belie God's promises of everlasting love and faithfulness and scatter secret doubts and falsehoods into the midst of our faith. This, I think, is when it is extremely important to have the support and encouragement of the church - the community of other faithful Christians willing to help us make it through the rough waters with our ship intact. Outside the emotions in our head or the situations in our lives, they can keep reminding us of the goal towards which we're sailing, and encourage us with their glimpses of the glory and beauty of the One we're following on this voyage even when we can't see Him ourselves.
Conversely, we have the privilege and responsibility of so encouraging our fellow Christians in their faith. As the book of Hebrews says, "exhort one another daily, while it is called 'Today'" (Heb 3:13). In other words, we should give encouragement at the moment we see it is needed, and even if we don't know that it is needed, instead of postponing it for some more convenient future time. Our encouragement of others should be a regular part of our lives - an outpouring of our love for them as our brothers and sisters in Christ, which desires to see the growth of their faith and their knowledge of God - not something we do sporadically or for special occasions. We must not take faith for granted, ours or anyone else's - it is something worth fighting for, and therefore something that must be fought for if it is to endure.
Showing posts with label spiritual warfare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spiritual warfare. Show all posts
Monday, April 30, 2012
Friday, April 20, 2012
Fighting for joy
Sometimes in the midst of life it is difficult to see the big picture. Life is often compared to a journey or a path, through which we are traveling, but it can frequently seem more like the endless futile circles of an eddy off the main course of a river: coming from nowhere, going to nowhere, and doing nothing meaningful in the interim. If it is a path, we don't seem able to see either the progress we've made so far or the goal ahead, and maybe even the direction the path is going.
When we feel this way - or at least, when I feel this way - it can be incredibly easy to lose hope. The past feels hopeless first because it is unchangeable, but also because it can seem to be a lost and straggling road, meandering through worthless endeavors in pursuit of meaningless goals, and because so often we feel that God has done nothing in our lives through all those years - that we have not grown, that we have not born fruit, that He has not accomplished any of that transformational change in which we find life, joy, and love. Burdened with the weight of past futility, it is hard to find reason for hope in the present; even when we do something well, when life is full of happiness and light, when the people we love have the same love for us in return, and when we feel close to God and excited by our deepening relationship with Him, the curse whispers in the back of our minds: "It is a passing dream; it is all an illusion; in the deepest core of reality, no one loves you and nothing you do will ever amount to anything." If we listen to that diabolical voice, it will veil the eyes of our heart to the goodness of God and murder the happiness and love we so deeply desire to know and to share. And it will begin to poison our hope for the future as well, by making us believe that in our truest being we are utter failures, worthless creatures incapable of ever achieving the great and beautiful visions we once had.
How can we, as Christians who are commanded to rejoice always, fight against this vision of the world and of ourselves, against these emotions that threaten to destroy whatever true hope there actually is for our lives? The first step, which seems too obvious to mention for those who have never been there, but which may appear almost impossible to those who are overwhelmed with this sense of futility and despair, is to desire joy. It is easy to say that we desire joy - after all, who wouldn't choose joy, light, and love over despair, darkness, and pain? But look at your heart and your mind in the middle of the black mood. When the little merry whispers come bringing you news of great joy, do you want to listen to them? Do you choose to listen to them, or do you push them aside so you can hold on to the darkness and the anger? I realized this week, for probably the first time in my life, that I am often doing just that - thrusting away the very light and love that my heart is crying out for, so that I can hold on to the blackness in my mind. And if we find ourselves choosing, my friends, to hold on to the hatred and the pain, then we have shown ourselves capable of choice in those moments of seemingly overwhelming despair. We are not thoroughly overwhelmed; we are not left without hope. For we still can choose.
After wanting joy, then, comes the desperately difficult task of choosing joy in every moment that the darkness tempts us. This is where we learn to be vigilant against sin (for despair is a sin, since it sets itself up against the true hope that is in Christ), to strengthen our wills and minds and bodies in fighting for the kingdom (for even these small battles in our minds, that seem to have no larger meaning or value, are battles waged for the kingdom of God against the power of sin and Satan), and to trust more deeply and completely in the grace and love of our Lord. This is where we discover the power of truth and the wonder of joy, the strength of hope and the might of faith, as we employ them in our service as weapons of war and see our foes defeated before us - and it is where we discover the riches of the grace of God as He forgives and restores every time we fall before them. He is the ultimate conqueror, after all, and will lead us in triumph; He will not forsake us, He will not stop loving us, and He does not consider us failures, no matter how purposeless our lives may seem. In Him, if we choose it, is joy unending, joy that is stronger than any pain or blackness. It was not idly, as an impossible ideal, that Paul wrote for us to rejoice always in Christ, and we can fight to grasp and keep that joy, vibrant and strong and beautiful, in our lives. And so we must fight, if we are to know and to follow God.
When we feel this way - or at least, when I feel this way - it can be incredibly easy to lose hope. The past feels hopeless first because it is unchangeable, but also because it can seem to be a lost and straggling road, meandering through worthless endeavors in pursuit of meaningless goals, and because so often we feel that God has done nothing in our lives through all those years - that we have not grown, that we have not born fruit, that He has not accomplished any of that transformational change in which we find life, joy, and love. Burdened with the weight of past futility, it is hard to find reason for hope in the present; even when we do something well, when life is full of happiness and light, when the people we love have the same love for us in return, and when we feel close to God and excited by our deepening relationship with Him, the curse whispers in the back of our minds: "It is a passing dream; it is all an illusion; in the deepest core of reality, no one loves you and nothing you do will ever amount to anything." If we listen to that diabolical voice, it will veil the eyes of our heart to the goodness of God and murder the happiness and love we so deeply desire to know and to share. And it will begin to poison our hope for the future as well, by making us believe that in our truest being we are utter failures, worthless creatures incapable of ever achieving the great and beautiful visions we once had.
How can we, as Christians who are commanded to rejoice always, fight against this vision of the world and of ourselves, against these emotions that threaten to destroy whatever true hope there actually is for our lives? The first step, which seems too obvious to mention for those who have never been there, but which may appear almost impossible to those who are overwhelmed with this sense of futility and despair, is to desire joy. It is easy to say that we desire joy - after all, who wouldn't choose joy, light, and love over despair, darkness, and pain? But look at your heart and your mind in the middle of the black mood. When the little merry whispers come bringing you news of great joy, do you want to listen to them? Do you choose to listen to them, or do you push them aside so you can hold on to the darkness and the anger? I realized this week, for probably the first time in my life, that I am often doing just that - thrusting away the very light and love that my heart is crying out for, so that I can hold on to the blackness in my mind. And if we find ourselves choosing, my friends, to hold on to the hatred and the pain, then we have shown ourselves capable of choice in those moments of seemingly overwhelming despair. We are not thoroughly overwhelmed; we are not left without hope. For we still can choose.
After wanting joy, then, comes the desperately difficult task of choosing joy in every moment that the darkness tempts us. This is where we learn to be vigilant against sin (for despair is a sin, since it sets itself up against the true hope that is in Christ), to strengthen our wills and minds and bodies in fighting for the kingdom (for even these small battles in our minds, that seem to have no larger meaning or value, are battles waged for the kingdom of God against the power of sin and Satan), and to trust more deeply and completely in the grace and love of our Lord. This is where we discover the power of truth and the wonder of joy, the strength of hope and the might of faith, as we employ them in our service as weapons of war and see our foes defeated before us - and it is where we discover the riches of the grace of God as He forgives and restores every time we fall before them. He is the ultimate conqueror, after all, and will lead us in triumph; He will not forsake us, He will not stop loving us, and He does not consider us failures, no matter how purposeless our lives may seem. In Him, if we choose it, is joy unending, joy that is stronger than any pain or blackness. It was not idly, as an impossible ideal, that Paul wrote for us to rejoice always in Christ, and we can fight to grasp and keep that joy, vibrant and strong and beautiful, in our lives. And so we must fight, if we are to know and to follow God.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Hidden evils
None of the things that appealed to Eve about the forbidden fruit were bad. She saw, rightly, that it was an attractive fruit that would be good to the taste, and that beyond those normal qualities of a good fruit it would also increase her wisdom and knowledge, and make her more like God. Obviously it isn't bad to enjoy good food, nor on a higher level is it bad to desire and seek after wisdom and knowledge. Indeed, those are things that God gives us and wants us to enjoy; there are even hints in the Bible that we will become so much like God that we can be called gods (see Psalm 82 and John 10). So from a purely rational perspective - proceeding strictly from observable facts and ignoring direct revelation - it would be perfectly fine to eat that fruit. But the key part of that is ignoring direct revelation. All these things looked good, and were good, and were things God was prepared to give to Adam and Eve in His own good time and manner, but it was wrong for them to try to obtain them in their own way by eating the fruit.
I think we are tempted by many similar fruits today: things that logically seem good, that from every perspective except one make sense for us to pursue, but from that one perspective are strictly and clearly forbidden. There might be choices we have to make in which one path seems the best from financial, prudent, and personal angles, but involves sacrificing our conscience or shirking one of the responsibilities God has given us (such as a child's submission to his parents or a wife's to her husband, or of anyone to some duty or charity for which he or she is specifically and uniquely responsible). No matter how attractive that path may seem, if it requires some other disobedience, it is the wrong path; it is forbidden fruit, and no amount of rationalization can correct it. And that can be hard to accept, sometimes! Particularly if ambition or pride enters the game, it can be hard to turn away from something that seems so good, so right, so much like something God would want us to have. But it is essential. It is, at times, the cross we must carry as followers of Christ, through which we learn to deny ourselves as He denied Himself to carry out His Father's will.
I think we are tempted by many similar fruits today: things that logically seem good, that from every perspective except one make sense for us to pursue, but from that one perspective are strictly and clearly forbidden. There might be choices we have to make in which one path seems the best from financial, prudent, and personal angles, but involves sacrificing our conscience or shirking one of the responsibilities God has given us (such as a child's submission to his parents or a wife's to her husband, or of anyone to some duty or charity for which he or she is specifically and uniquely responsible). No matter how attractive that path may seem, if it requires some other disobedience, it is the wrong path; it is forbidden fruit, and no amount of rationalization can correct it. And that can be hard to accept, sometimes! Particularly if ambition or pride enters the game, it can be hard to turn away from something that seems so good, so right, so much like something God would want us to have. But it is essential. It is, at times, the cross we must carry as followers of Christ, through which we learn to deny ourselves as He denied Himself to carry out His Father's will.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Praying against temptation
After Jesus had the Passover dinner with His disciples (which we now remember as the Last Supper), He went to the Mount of Olives to pray, and told His disciples to pray also, that they might not succumb to temptation. But they didn't pray. He prayed in such agony of spirit that, according to the gospel of Luke, His sweat became like drops of blood; Matthew says He was deeply distressed and sorrowful. After all, He knew what was about to happen! Because He desired to obey His Father's will, however, even more than He wanted to avoid the suffering into which He was about to surrender Himself, He prayed, fervently and earnestly.
A little ways off, His disciples slept. They didn't sleep simply because they were tired and out late and didn't realize the distress that Jesus was in: Luke tells us that they slept from sorrow. He had just told them at dinner that He would be betrayed, and suffer, and die; that He would leave them; and that one of them, Peter, would deny Him at the moment of truth. And so although they didn't fully understand what Jesus was talking about - their responses to Him in the book of John make that clear! - they could certainly tell that something was wrong, and that something great and dreadfully sad and painful was forthcoming. So sleep offered them a welcome escape from the sorrow and the bewilderment. Instead of having to wrestle with their worries and fears, with all that they didn't understand, and with Jesus' obvious sorrow and ominous warnings, they could rest in peaceful oblivion. I'm sure it seemed like a good solution - the easiest choice, the most pleasant path.
But because they slept at that moment, they didn't pray. And because they didn't pray, then, in the empty moments before the Pharisees and priests came with their servants and guards to take Jesus away, their hearts and minds were not prepared, not fortified by faith, to endure the fear and sorrow to come. They did not pray, as Jesus had taught them, for God to keep them from temptation - and so when temptation came, they fell. What seemed like the easy road, the escape from pain, ended up leading them into even more sorrow and pain. Peter runs into the night alone, bitterly weeping, not just for the arrest and imminent death of his Lord, but for his own denial of his Lord and friend.
It made me wonder how often I've chosen to pursue an escape or distraction instead of praying - how frequently I simply try to avoid the worries and the sorrows of life by ignoring them, instead of facing them head on in prayer and seeking the strength and the grace of God to help me deal with them - as well as how often that choice not to pray has resulted in sin, as it did for Peter. For the world is full of paths that promise an escape, that offer peace and happiness without the unpleasant task of coping with and fighting the pains and sorrows and fears of reality. I know I've used Facebook, Pinterest, blog-surfing, and even programming to numb or ignore feelings I don't want to deal with, instead of taking them to God with prayer and supplication; lest you think technology is the prime foe, I can tell you that I've done the same with books, homework, and projects - anything that distracts the mind and heart from the real issue can work. It doesn't seem like a bad thing to find peace in these distractions, and it probably isn't always a bad thing. But when it takes us away from prayer, when it leads us to seek peace and comfort in anything other than God, when it leaves us in a happy drugged stupor at the moment the trial comes, instead of strengthened in faith and prepared to hold fast to God - then it is a bad thing, leading to increased sin and multiplied sorrow.
So let us pray! Let us learn from Jesus and His disciples (as positive and negative examples, respectively), and pray in the midst of the worries and sorrows of life, the bewilderment and the suffering, that we may not enter into temptation, but may be protected against sin and strengthened for righteousness.
A little ways off, His disciples slept. They didn't sleep simply because they were tired and out late and didn't realize the distress that Jesus was in: Luke tells us that they slept from sorrow. He had just told them at dinner that He would be betrayed, and suffer, and die; that He would leave them; and that one of them, Peter, would deny Him at the moment of truth. And so although they didn't fully understand what Jesus was talking about - their responses to Him in the book of John make that clear! - they could certainly tell that something was wrong, and that something great and dreadfully sad and painful was forthcoming. So sleep offered them a welcome escape from the sorrow and the bewilderment. Instead of having to wrestle with their worries and fears, with all that they didn't understand, and with Jesus' obvious sorrow and ominous warnings, they could rest in peaceful oblivion. I'm sure it seemed like a good solution - the easiest choice, the most pleasant path.
But because they slept at that moment, they didn't pray. And because they didn't pray, then, in the empty moments before the Pharisees and priests came with their servants and guards to take Jesus away, their hearts and minds were not prepared, not fortified by faith, to endure the fear and sorrow to come. They did not pray, as Jesus had taught them, for God to keep them from temptation - and so when temptation came, they fell. What seemed like the easy road, the escape from pain, ended up leading them into even more sorrow and pain. Peter runs into the night alone, bitterly weeping, not just for the arrest and imminent death of his Lord, but for his own denial of his Lord and friend.
It made me wonder how often I've chosen to pursue an escape or distraction instead of praying - how frequently I simply try to avoid the worries and the sorrows of life by ignoring them, instead of facing them head on in prayer and seeking the strength and the grace of God to help me deal with them - as well as how often that choice not to pray has resulted in sin, as it did for Peter. For the world is full of paths that promise an escape, that offer peace and happiness without the unpleasant task of coping with and fighting the pains and sorrows and fears of reality. I know I've used Facebook, Pinterest, blog-surfing, and even programming to numb or ignore feelings I don't want to deal with, instead of taking them to God with prayer and supplication; lest you think technology is the prime foe, I can tell you that I've done the same with books, homework, and projects - anything that distracts the mind and heart from the real issue can work. It doesn't seem like a bad thing to find peace in these distractions, and it probably isn't always a bad thing. But when it takes us away from prayer, when it leads us to seek peace and comfort in anything other than God, when it leaves us in a happy drugged stupor at the moment the trial comes, instead of strengthened in faith and prepared to hold fast to God - then it is a bad thing, leading to increased sin and multiplied sorrow.
So let us pray! Let us learn from Jesus and His disciples (as positive and negative examples, respectively), and pray in the midst of the worries and sorrows of life, the bewilderment and the suffering, that we may not enter into temptation, but may be protected against sin and strengthened for righteousness.
Friday, December 2, 2011
This means war
I have to confess that sometimes I live as if I were a materialistic naturalist.
By this I mean that I think and act as if matter is all there that there is, and as if all things can be explained naturalistically and thus all problems can be solved naturalistically. I remember that I have a spirit as well as a body (although I don't always think about it very much), and I remember God who is the uncreated self-sustaining Spirit, but I don't give much though to angels or to demons. Most emphatically, I act as though angels and demons have no influence over my life or over the world I live in. Considering that we're in the middle of a spiritual war, with the eternal destinies of human souls at stake, that's probably not a good attitude for me to assume. But I honestly haven't thought about spiritual warfare very much at all, beyond some vague idea that the whole thing is a nice metaphor for being a good person and a diligent follower of Christ.
Over the past few days, having had the issue brought to my attention from at least three separate sources, I've been thinking that maybe it is more than just a metaphor. I don't like thinking that way! The thought of malicious spiritual beings bent on my destruction, active and unseen in the world around me, is extremely unsettling. I like this world where what can be seen or otherwise scientifically verified is all that exists, besides God - where all things proceed by natural laws, and known inputs lead to known outputs, and nothing is out of place or uncontrollable. It is very comfortable, you know? Acceptance of a spiritual reality is in a sense truly a release of control, because while we can often control nature we cannot control the actions of spiritual beings whose very existence is only tenuously revealed to us. For someone like me that is absolutely frightening.
But when I seriously look at the Bible I see that, despite my fears and despite my ingrained way of thinking, there is a real spiritual war going on. In 2 Corinthians 10 we see Paul saying that even though we are in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh, but fight with weapons that are mighty in God for "casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God." Similarly, in Ephesians 6 he tells us that we are struggling against the "rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places". So the armor that he tells us to wear in the following verses is more than a metaphor - it is truly spiritual armor that protects us in this war in which we find ourselves. I think that may be one of the purposes of the book of Revelation, actually - to show us the reality of the spiritual war that is going on all around us, so that we might be strong in battle instead of ignorant sheep wandering towards slaughter.
Coming to Revelation, though, one finds more than just a vivid picture of the reality and significance of this spiritual war. We see that the war will end, and we see that God will win, and we see that all things shall be made new in beauty and glory and peace. Essentially, we see that there is a hope to live for, because of the greatness of our God! It might be frightening and unnerving here and now to think of fighting and struggling with evil spirits in our everyday lives, but it doesn't need to be, because of the power of our God and our confidence that He is indeed on our side. If we have placed our faith in Him, He holds our souls safe even as we fight on the front lines of the war.
This almost makes me want to laugh in the face of the demons! Ha! Bring it on! My God is greater than you and you are doomed and already defeated! I'm not afraid of you, or anything you can do, because God is on my side! I'm not sure that is the most beneficial or humble response though... :) One thing is certain, though - it is better to live and fight and be vigilant against sin in the strength of God then to passively cower in fear and try to make everything comfortable and controlled.
By this I mean that I think and act as if matter is all there that there is, and as if all things can be explained naturalistically and thus all problems can be solved naturalistically. I remember that I have a spirit as well as a body (although I don't always think about it very much), and I remember God who is the uncreated self-sustaining Spirit, but I don't give much though to angels or to demons. Most emphatically, I act as though angels and demons have no influence over my life or over the world I live in. Considering that we're in the middle of a spiritual war, with the eternal destinies of human souls at stake, that's probably not a good attitude for me to assume. But I honestly haven't thought about spiritual warfare very much at all, beyond some vague idea that the whole thing is a nice metaphor for being a good person and a diligent follower of Christ.
Over the past few days, having had the issue brought to my attention from at least three separate sources, I've been thinking that maybe it is more than just a metaphor. I don't like thinking that way! The thought of malicious spiritual beings bent on my destruction, active and unseen in the world around me, is extremely unsettling. I like this world where what can be seen or otherwise scientifically verified is all that exists, besides God - where all things proceed by natural laws, and known inputs lead to known outputs, and nothing is out of place or uncontrollable. It is very comfortable, you know? Acceptance of a spiritual reality is in a sense truly a release of control, because while we can often control nature we cannot control the actions of spiritual beings whose very existence is only tenuously revealed to us. For someone like me that is absolutely frightening.
But when I seriously look at the Bible I see that, despite my fears and despite my ingrained way of thinking, there is a real spiritual war going on. In 2 Corinthians 10 we see Paul saying that even though we are in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh, but fight with weapons that are mighty in God for "casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God." Similarly, in Ephesians 6 he tells us that we are struggling against the "rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places". So the armor that he tells us to wear in the following verses is more than a metaphor - it is truly spiritual armor that protects us in this war in which we find ourselves. I think that may be one of the purposes of the book of Revelation, actually - to show us the reality of the spiritual war that is going on all around us, so that we might be strong in battle instead of ignorant sheep wandering towards slaughter.
Coming to Revelation, though, one finds more than just a vivid picture of the reality and significance of this spiritual war. We see that the war will end, and we see that God will win, and we see that all things shall be made new in beauty and glory and peace. Essentially, we see that there is a hope to live for, because of the greatness of our God! It might be frightening and unnerving here and now to think of fighting and struggling with evil spirits in our everyday lives, but it doesn't need to be, because of the power of our God and our confidence that He is indeed on our side. If we have placed our faith in Him, He holds our souls safe even as we fight on the front lines of the war.
This almost makes me want to laugh in the face of the demons! Ha! Bring it on! My God is greater than you and you are doomed and already defeated! I'm not afraid of you, or anything you can do, because God is on my side! I'm not sure that is the most beneficial or humble response though... :) One thing is certain, though - it is better to live and fight and be vigilant against sin in the strength of God then to passively cower in fear and try to make everything comfortable and controlled.
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