It’s Not You, It’s Me

By Erik Raymond

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“I regret that too often my reflex is to look outward and identify potential problems with others without looking to myself.”

God has a multitude of arrows in his quiver that enable him to hit his mark. Sometimes he does so in surprising, even humbling, ways.
Over the last 18 months or so, during our Sunday morning service, I have frequently noticed the words on the screen were a bit out of focus. “I wish we could get that to sharpen up,” I would think to myself. Every now and then I actually would think about mentioning it to the slide team, but figuring it sounded petty. I would just forget about it.
Last week, however, I was pleasantly surprised. In middle of the first song, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The letters were crisp. “This is great,” I thought. “I didn’t even have to say anything.” Filled with the joy that comes from the unexpected small victories in life, I turned to look up in the balcony to see who was running slides. I wanted to encourage him after the service for his “good work.”
As I turned to look back and see who was there, I had to make an adjustment; my brand new glasses were sliding a bit.
Then it hit me: It wasn’t the slides. It never was. It was me all along! My eyes have been progressively getting worse and the words on the screen were getting more and more fuzzy and pixelated. I turned back around and felt about 2″ tall. Then I laughed at myself. The arrow hit the mark.
This moment serves a powerful analogy for our growth in grace. So often we recognize a problem but assume that the issue is with those around us before considering that we may actually be the ones who need an adjustment.
One person may complain that there are not enough volunteers in a particular ministry. But are they actively serving? If so, are they actively recruiting to come and help? If so, are they approaching people in a loving, understanding, compassionate way?
Someone may say that a church is unloving. But have they actively attempted to change the culture that they perceive? Have they spoken to others about this (because this is what love does)? Have they initiated relationships? Have they opened their home to welcome others in? Have they prayed for a change in this area?
A person may complain about a lack of conversions in the church and the state of society. But have they actively prayed for the ministry of the Word? Do they actively make and take opportunities for the gospel? Do they go out to others with the goal of bringing the gospel to them?
One may say that they feel disconnected at church. But what are they doing to try to connect with others? Do they open their home to welcome others in? Do they carve out time in their schedule to meet with and encourage others in the church? Do they pray for a greater sense of community?
We could go on and on. The point is clear: It is easy to observe problems with other people but it is difficult to see it in ourselves. You only have to be human to identify problems, but you have to be mature to work to fix them.
My reflex with the slides is comical and even somewhat understandable given the scenario of not having an eye exam for 20 years. However, I regret that too often my reflex is to look outward and identify potential problems with others without looking to myself. Call it a spiritual stigmatism or a log in our eye or whatever—the point is clear: maturity rolls up its sleeves and gets to work.  

Erik is a pastor at Emmaus Bible Church (EmmausBibleChurch.org), a church plant south of Omaha. Converse with Erik on Twitter at @erikraymond. More from Erik Raymond or visit Erik at http://www.ordinarypastor.com/

God Isn’t a Bully. God Is Love.

By Jarrid Wilson

“God, although disciplinary when needed, is a loving and caring Lord.”

God isn’t out to get you, nor is he relentlessly searching for a reason to condemn you. God is constantly seeking for opportunities to show you love and grace. He’s anything but the bully people make him out to be. 

God Isn’t a Bully

Does the Bible talk about God’s wrath? Yes. But does this mean God is a wrathful being looking to seek and destroy anything that comes in his way? Nope. God, although disciplinary when needed, is a loving and caring Lord. The Bible is full of examples that showcase this truth. So, although God can be tough when needed, we must also understand that God’s grace is a welcoming embrace and his love is a comforting environment.
God isn’t a bully, yet so many people use “turn or burn” tactics to scare people into a relationship with him. It’s not biblical, and I believe God is shaking his head at the detrimental ways being used on behalf of his name. When people do this, they are portraying God to be someone he’s not, and for centuries we’ve seen individuals use God’s name as a tool to bully those that differ from them. Although God does have some very clear lines as to what is biblical and what isn’t, this doesn’t mean we are to showcase our beliefs in a hateful or prejudicial way. God isn’t a bully.

God Is Love

Love is that thing that everyone talks about but very few will ever truly put into action. It’s the fuel that we are called to live by, and it’s the very reason Jesus’ body was brutally broken upon that splintered tower of a cross. It’s unbeatable, unrestricted and hands down one of the greatest attributes of Jesus that anyone could ever harness. Love will transform the way you see life, and it will radically invade the way you see others. God showed us love by sending his one and only Son, Jesus (John 3:16). He is the definition of love itself.

“But anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love.” —1 John 4:8

He First Loved Us

God created the heavens and the earth, and then loved us enough to create us in His own image. He didn’t have to do this but he did, and that’s what is so intrinsically beautiful about our existence. We were all made unique, for a purpose and destined to share his love with those we come across. We love because God first loved us. We love because God is love, and that love is the oxygen that fuels our soul. 

God isn’t a bully. God is love. 

Jarrid Wilson is a husband, pastor and author relentlessly sharing the love of Jesus. More from Jarrid Wilson or visit Jarrid at http://JarridWilson.com

Why God Doesn’t Remove Our Sinful Cravings Immediately

By J. D. Greear

 

Every Christian I know has had the experience of coming up against the same sin—again—and wondering, “Will this struggle ever end? Why doesn’t God just remove this?” (If you haven’t had that experience, just give it time.) This seems to be a frustration common to all believers, and not just with sin, either. When we experience any prolonged suffering or pain or discomfort, we have to ask, Why?
This isn’t the question of a skeptic trying to prove that God doesn’t exist—the famous apologetic “problem of evil.” No, this is the personal question of a believer trying to discern what in the world God is doing with the continued struggles in his life. It is the question of someone who reads, “For those who love God, all things work together for good,” and is trying to reconcile that theological truth with her present circumstances.
One of the most surprising insights into this question comes from Judges 3. Tucked in between the stories of Othniel and Ehud is a statement that most Christians skip right over. But if we took this truth to heart, we’d have a renewed courage to face our struggles: “Now these are the nations that the LORD left, to test Israel by them, that is, all in Israel who had not experienced all the wars in Canaan. It was in order that the generations of the people of Israel might know war, to teach war to those who had not known it before” (Judges 3:1-2).
Why did God leave struggles for his people, Israel? Israel’s struggle was tangible and obvious: It came in the form of enemy nations and their armies. So why didn’t God drive them out?
In one sense, as the book of Judges pounds into our heads over and over, the enemy nations are there because Israel didn’t believe God enough to drive them out. But that’s not what Judges 3 says. No, here we see that God left them there to test Israel so that they might learn to fight wars.
God wanted to give Israel the land of Canaan. But apparently, he wanted to do it through struggle. So he continued to test them, to see if they would believe him, to teach them to trust him in their fight. He does the same with us, though (as Paul reminds us) our battle isn’t against flesh and blood, but against spiritual powers. Why doesn’t God remove our struggles when we become Christians? Because he wants us to keep relying on his grace, not on our flesh. As Paul said, some of the weaknesses and trials in our lives are there—by design—to keep us humble.
What this means is that sometimes God allows us to struggle with a lesser sin to keep us from a greater one—pride. Because if you or I were immediately cured from certain sins, we’d become insufferably proud. I know that God has done that with me, specifically in my marriage. The first couple years of my marriage were a struggle for both my wife and me. We had a lot of junk that needed to be exposed. But when I look back, I’m thankful for that time, because it keeps me from becoming self-righteous when I look at problems other people have in their marriages. Struggle is a constant way of driving the proverb “There, but for the grace of God, go I” into our hearts.
John Newton, the author of “Amazing Grace,” understood this from experience as well. He grew frustrated by the continued sin in his life, until it dawned on him that any remaining sin kept him in desperate need of grace: “The riches of his mercy,” he said, “are more illustrated by the multiplied pardons he bestows upon me, than if I needed no forgiveness at all.”
The persistence of pain in our lives—especially the pain of battling against sin—shouldn’t make us complacent. God didn’t leave the Canaanites so that Israel would eventually get comfortable with them being around. It was just the opposite: He left the Canaanites so that Israel would learn to fight.
So when you are tempted to despair because you continue to struggle, remember what God is doing through your circumstances. Look to Christ, whose resurrection guarantees victory. Look to Christ, who fought for you when you were his enemy. Look to Christ, the only Savior who can give you the strength to stand, and who will pick you up every time you fall. Look to Christ, and fight.

J.D. Greear, Ph.D., pastors the Summit Church in Raleigh-Durham, NC. Tagged by Outreach magazine as one of the fastest growing churches in America, the Summit has grown in the past 8 years from 400 to over 5,000 each weekend. The Summit Church is deeply involved in global church planting, having undertaken the mission to plant 1000 churches in the next 40 years. J.D. has authored Breaking the Islam Code and the upcoming Gospel: Recovering the Power that Made Christianity Revolutionary. More from J. D. Greear or visit J. D. at http://www.jdgreear.com

Pastor, Love Your Wife

By Matt Tully

 

This is a guest post by Dave Furman and is part of Pastor’s Wife Appreciation Month. Dave is the pastor of Redeemer Church of Dubai. His wife, Gloria, is the author of The Pastor’s Wife: Strengthened by Grace for a Life of Love.

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Walking the Talk

One might think it would be easy for a pastor to love his wife. A pastor preaches on marriage often enough to know how a husband should love his wife, right? Ignorance is certainly not an option.
We also see pastors exhorting couples during wedding ceremonies on how to have a healthy marriage. In fact, this afternoon I am writing these words while still wearing my suit and tie from a wedding ceremony I just conducted. All who were present heard me challenge the new couple to honor God in their marriage.
But what about pastors? How should a pastor love his wife? I’ll mention the three things I told the couple today in our wedding ceremony. I think these points are especially relevant for pastors, and I’m guessing you’ll see why once you read them!

Pastors, walk with God.

This is foundational to any marriage. Whether things are going well or you’re in a tough time, the most fundamental question you need to ask is: Am I worshiping God?
You would think this would be easy for a pastor to do. You’re around theological books all day, telling other people how their marriages should go, and preaching sermons on the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ. But pastor, how’s your soul? Are you walking with the Lord?
We need to remember that the biggest problem in our marriages will not be our busy ministry schedule, or our circumstances, or even our wife. Our biggest problem in our marriage is our own sin. It is only when you are walking with God that you have something positive to give to your spouse.
The Spirit empowers us to love our wives sacrificially, be kind even when we’re hurt, and be generous with our energy even when we feel drained. Don’t let your soul run on fumes, give everything to your congregation and have nothing left to give to your wife. Love God with all your heart or else everything about your marriage will eventually crumble.

Pastors, remember your wedding day.

Surely you’ve officiated plenty of weddings, but do you remember your own wedding day? And I’m not asking if you remember what kind of flowers decorated the ceremony. (Roses! We had roses. Someone please tell my wife that I knew that random fact.) And I’m not asking if you remember all the food and the fellowship. Or the order of service in the ceremony.
What you ought to remember is this: the most important thing that happened on your wedding day. You made a covenant. You made a covenant promise before God, your wife and witnesses that you would, by God’s grace, love your wife until death do you part. Feelings of love come and go. Your marriage can’t be fueled by feelings. It can only be sustained when you elevate your covenant to God and each other over your feelings and emotions.
Remember the unbreakable promise you made. As far as I know, you made no covenant or vow when you took over your pastoral position, but you did when you wed your wife. Don’t neglect her. Remember your wedding day.

Pastors, embrace the church together with your wife.

Just like the other members of your congregation, you need to have people in your life who know what’s going on in your marriage. Walk in the light. Don’t fake it with the church and don’t encourage your wife to “just get it together” in public.
Be honest about your struggles. Open your hearts up to the people around you. Allow your wife to be a healthy church member and not a woman who is placed on a pedestal for all to stare at. Allow your wife to have healthy friendships in the church without the fear that she’ll expose you for being an imperfect husband and pastor. Together with your wife, enjoy being a part of the church you shepherd.
In summary: Love the Lord with everything you’ve got. Love your wife. And together with your wife, love the Bride of Christ.  

More from Matt Tully or visit Matt at http://www.crossway.org/blog

We Complain Because We Forget

By Steven Lee

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I am stunned every time I read the story of the Exodus. How can the people of Israel complain like they do? How could they be so ignorant, so stupid, so forgetful?
The God of the universe had just tossed around the most powerful man on the face of the earth like a toddler with a rag doll. God didn’t just humble Pharaoh; he broke his spirit and revealed Pharaoh’s impotence. A slave people and their God left him and his nation in shambles. This display of power sent vibrations throughout the world, inspiring fear and awe.

The Deadly Disease of Spiritual Amnesia

Yet Israel’s response to this spectacular deliverance from Egypt is not mainly praise, worship and whole-hearted trust. Instead, Israel responds with grumbling—complaining, murmuring, quarreling. “No water, Moses! Where’s the beef, Moses? I have blisters on my feet, Moses. Who died and made you boss? Are we there yet, Moses?” Spiritual amnesia set in quickly and covered the eyes of Israel’s hearts. So soon had they forgotten God’s gracious and miraculous deliverance?
This spiritual amnesia—forgetting God’s deliverance and provision—is a deadly disease. The people of Israel, on the heels of unthinkable miracles, with their pockets full of Egyptian jewelry, grumble at their less-than-five-star accommodations in the desert. This wasn’t just headache-induced grumbling or low-blood-sugar complaining. This was faithlessness. It is the heart that says, “I know better than God. If only he would follow my plan.”

Why We Complain

And yet that’s my heart and yours. “Where’s the dinner, honey? Leftovers again? Where’s the protein? Is that all you got done today? Can you change the dirty diaper? What’s this sticky stuff on the chair?” I can be just like the people of Israel. “I know you’ve forgiven all my sins at the cross, rescued me from eternal conscious torment and given me everlasting joy in your presence, but all we have for dinner is Ramen or Cheerios.”
Grumbling, whining and thanklessness are not ultimately the heart’s responses to circumstances, but to God. Israel grumbled at their enslavement, grumbled when Moses came on the scene and still grumbled as they wandered safely in the wilderness. Their complaining wasn’t rooted in their scenery, but their heart.
The same is true for you. A heart of gratitude and thankfulness isn’t dependent on your bank statement, doctor’s diagnosis or the praise you receive for a job well done. Thanklessness and grumbling—regardless of your situation, even your suffering—reflect your heart. They are sin. Spiritual amnesia is a deadly disease that threatens your faith and your joy more than any cancer. It penetrates to the core and rots your heart from within.

Chemotherapy of the Soul

How can we guard ourselves from this spiritual forgetfulness? How can we root out the cancer that threatens our joy and faith? Very simply, the antidote is to remember. Remember God’s gracious deliverance and redemption. Establish it in your memory. Memorialize it. Paint it on the walls of your house. Journal it and reread it each morning.
God gives us this pattern in the Exodus. Israel has just been given their menu for the next 40 years: manna from heaven. Gather six days, a double portion on the last, and rest on the Sabbath. But then God commands Moses to take an omer of manna (about two quarts) and keep it in a jar as a reminder of God’s faithfulness (Exodus 16:32–33).
There are two miracles here. The obvious is that God fed a couple million people with manna from heaven for 40 years. No gluten allergies, no low-carb diet and no lack of vital nutrients. God sustains his people miraculously to teach them he can and will provide their daily bread—everything they need.
The second is that the manna in the jar did not spoil as it normally would (Exodus 16:20). God kept the manna from spoiling to remind Israel that he not only keeps manna from spoiling, but that he will keep his people alive, even in the wilderness. This jar of white flakes was to be an enduring reminder that God provides. He provides in the Exodus from Egypt, and he provides in the desert wasteland.

We Must Remember

God is saying the same thing to you. If you’re inclined to grumble, to be thankless or to complain about our circumstances, God graciously reminds us that we must remember his gracious redemption and provision.
Take a moment and look back on God’s fingerprints all over your life:

• Remember how God has protected you from making a shipwreck of your life.
• Remember how God graciously let you grow up in a godly family.
• Remember how God awakened you to the ugliness of your sin.
• Remember how you walked away from that terrible car crash.
• Remember how your wife, sister or mom survived breast cancer.
• Remember how you had mentors and key friends guide you in your faith.
• Remember how he sustained you during that season of unemployment.
• Remember how God miraculously healed you.
• Remember that impossible prayer request that God answered.
• Remember how you had no money and an envelope just showed up in the mail with exactly the amount you needed.
• Remember how the gospel came alive as it never had before.
• Remember God.

The antidote to spiritual amnesia is making every effort to recall and remember God’s gracious deliverance. The fact that you—a sinner who was an enemy of God—are now a beloved child is a miracle. Don’t let that wonder ever fade. Remember.
Let this act of remembering awaken in you joy in God and a deep sense of gratitude that God loves you, knows you and keeps you.  

Steven Lee (@5tevenLee) is the pastor of small groups and community outreach at College Church in Wheaton, IL. He earned his M.Div. from Bethlehem College & Seminary in Minneapolis, MN. More from Steven Lee or visit Steven at http://www.desiringgod.org

7 Suggestions for Raising Boys Who Welcome Your Input as Adults

By Ron Edmondson

 

People ask me all the time for advice on raising girls, and honestly, I’ve got some, but they all involve a shotgun and long ankle-length dresses, so you probably don’t want that. Just kidding. I always wanted a daughter, but God gave me boys.

And I think He knew what He was doing. Imagine that!
I’ve learned a few things about ministering to men—and understanding myself more—by raising boys. One thing I’ve learned is that boys are desperate for wisdom. They crave it. They want someone to speak into their life—save them from making the wrong decision.
But, equally true, they are often either too timid to ask for it or they just never know to do so.
(Someone told me guys seldom ask for directions either, but I’m having a hard time believing that one!)
I’m close to my two adult boys. We’ve walked through a lot of life together—mine and theirs. They are on their own, have good careers and live healthy, productive lives. They love other people with grace. Best of all, they both love and pursue Jesus actively. I couldn’t be more proud as a dad.
Gratefully, and the subject of this post, they still call me for the major decisions they make in life.
I didn’t have a great relationship with my dad when I was their age. I wanted the type of relationship with my sons where they would always feel welcome and ready to learn from my experience. I’m blessed to say both my boys call me often, sometimes daily in certain seasons of their life. They want my help making life decisions. I can only credit God’s grace with that blessing.
Even still, I’ve observed there is something in them that wants to appear not to need the help at times. Something in a guy resists the need for help—even when we desperately need the help.
How do you get your sons to want to come to you for wisdom, long after they leave home?
I get asked that a lot. I have a few thoughts.

Here are seven suggestions for raising boys:

Do activities they want to do—I spent lots of time with my boys, but I did that by assuming their interests. If it was baseball or wrestling, I loved and lived what they loved. I know dads who try to get their boys to love fishing or golf because they love fishing or golf. I simply chose my interests around theirs.
Stay close—Boys grow to become men. That sounds simple, but it’s huge to remember. They want to be independent. Some days they don’t want you around as much as others. (That may sound appealing for a moment when they are colicky as infants, but believe me, you will miss them.) I tried to stay close enough that I was there when they were ready for me. Ephesians 6 says not to exasperate the children. I simply tried not to get in the way of their growth pattern, but to always be available when needed. I found I was “needed” more often that way. And the funny thing, it almost seemed like they tested whether I was going to be there when they called.
Be fully present—Like all men, I always had plenty I could be doing. I tried to let the boys’ time be the boys’ time. Children know when you’re not really being attentive. There were times my boys told me I needed to put my phone down. I listened. I wanted them to feel I was listening to what mattered to them. If my boys wanted to kick a soccer ball or throw a baseball, I did it, no matter how tired I was from a long day. And it’s amazing how much more a boy will engage in conversation when a ball is involved.
Offer wisdom more than solutions—This is huge. I explained this more in THIS POST, but I tried to help my boys form a paradigm for finding an answer rather than always giving them the answer. Honestly, this is harder. It’s easier just to do something sometimes. Give the answer and move on. Solve the problem. But they don’t grow that way. And they learn to use you as a crutch rather than develop into independent young men. Boys want to find their own way. They like solving the mystery, creating a new path and discovering the answers on their own. I wanted them to always have access to me for the wisdom of experience, but to develop the ability to make wise decisions apart from me.
Love their friends—My boys knew their friends were always welcome in our house. They knew I’d fix them lots of pancakes on Saturday morning. They knew we stocked our fridge with every drink their friends might like, just in case our house was the hangout house for the night. They knew the doors were always wide open for anyone they brought through them. Honestly, we didn’t always approve of their choices in friends, but we talked them through it and tried to steer them toward better friends. But we never turned away their friends. This did two things. It protected their hearts toward us. And it helped them learn principles of grace. Over time, we discovered that if we were building wisdom into their lives in other areas they would discern for themselves the wisest choice in friends.
Give solid boundaries—We were a house of grace, but boys need structure. Let me repeat that—before someone gets hurt—boys NEED structure. They need someone to tell them when they’ve gone too far in how they talk to their mom. They need someone who will counsel them when they are falling behind in school—and hold them accountable to do better. They need to know there is someone who will pull them aside and discipline them when they do wrong—and be consistent in that discipline.
Let them explore—Boys are risk-takers. Most likely we have steered it out of them if it’s not there. It’s innate. They use potty language and wrestle and bounce balls that break lamps and pee places you never thought someone would pee. They’ll jump off something and you’ll likely end up in the emergency room a time or two. But that’s part of being a boy. And discovering. And growing courage and faith and the ability to be a man. Of course, there’s a line. And I wasn’t great at finding that line. You can’t let them be too stupid. (Although one of my favorite Proverbs says, “Surely I’m too stupid to be a man.”) But you should let them be boys. That includes exploring. And that’s a word to moms and dads.
There are probably other suggestions I could share, but if you are raising boys, you probably need to go break up a fight or stop them from jumping off something. We can talk more later!
What suggestions do you have for raising boys?  

Ron Edmondson is a pastor and church leader passionate about planting churches, helping established churches thrive, and assisting pastors and those in ministry think through leadership, strategy and life. Ron has over 20 years business experience, mostly as a self-employed business owner, and he's been helping church grow vocationally for over 10 years. More from Ron Edmondson or visit Ron at http://www.ronedmondson.com/

The Dead End of Sexual Sin

By Rosaria Butterfield

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Unbelievers don’t “struggle” with same-sex attraction. I didn’t. My love for women came with nary a struggle at all.
I had not always been a lesbian, but in my late 20s I met my first lesbian-lover. I was hooked and believed that I had found my real self. Sex with women was part of my life and identity, but it was not the only part—and not always the biggest part.
I simply preferred everything about women: their company, their conversation, their companionship and the contours of their/our body. I favored the nesting, the setting up of house and home, and the building of lesbian community.
As an unbelieving professor of English, an advocate of postmodernism and poststructuralism, and an opponent of all totalizing metanarratives (like Christianity, I would have added back in the day), I found peace and purpose in my life as a lesbian and the queer community I helped to create.

Conversion and Confusion

It was only after I met my risen Lord that I ever felt shame in my sin, with my sexual attractions and with my sexual history.
Conversion brought with it a train wreck of contradictory feelings, ranging from liberty to shame. Conversion also left me confused. While it was clear that God forbade sex outside of biblical marriage, it was not clear to me what I should do with the complex matrix of desires and attractions, sensibilities and senses of self, that churned within and still defined me.
What is the sin of sexual transgression? The sex? The identity? How deep was repentance to go?

Meeting John Owen

In these newfound struggles, a friend recommended that I read an old, 17th-century theologian named John Owen, in a trio of his books (now brought together under the title Overcoming Sin and Temptation).
At first, I was offended to realize that what I called “who I am,” John Owen called “indwelling sin.” But I hung in there with him. Owen taught me that sin in the life of a believer manifests itself in three ways: distortion by original sin, distraction of actual day-to-day sin, and discouragement by the daily residence of indwelling sin.
Eventually, the concept of indwelling sin provided a window to see how God intended to replace my shame with hope. Indeed, John Owen’s understanding of indwelling sin is the missing link in our current cultural confusion about what sexual sin is—and what to do about it.
As believers, we lament with the apostle Paul, “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me” (Romans 7:19–20). But after we lament, what should we do? How should we think about sin that has become a daily part of our identity?
Owen explained with four responses.

1. Starve It

Indwelling sin is a parasite, and it eats what you do. God’s word is poison to sin when embraced by a heart made new by the Holy Spirit. You starve indwelling sin by feeding yourself deeply on his word. Sin cannot abide in his word. So, fill your hearts and minds with Scripture.
One way that I do that is singing the Psalms. Psalm-singing, for me, is a powerful devotional practice as it helps me to melt my will into God’s and memorize his word in the process. We starve our indwelling sin by reading Scripture comprehensively, in big chunks and by whole books at a time. This allows us to see God’s providence at work in big-picture ways.

2. Call Sin What It Is

Now that it is in the house, don’t buy it a collar and a leash and give it a sweet name. Don’t “admit” sin as a harmless (but unhousebroken) pet. Instead, confess it as an evil offense and put it out! Even if you love it! You can’t domesticate sin by welcoming it into your home.
Don’t make a false peace. Don’t make excuses. Don’t get sentimental about sin. Don’t play the victim. Don’t live by excuse-righteousness. If you bring the baby tiger into your house and name it Fluffy, don’t be surprised if you wake up one day and Fluffy is eating you alive. That is how sin works, and Fluffy knows her job. Sometimes sin lurks and festers for decades, deceiving the sinner that he really has it all under control, until it unleashes itself on everything you built, cherished and loved.
Be wise about your choice sins and don’t coddle them. And remember that sin is not ever “who you are” if you are in Christ. In Christ, you are a son or daughter of the King; you are royalty. You do battle with sin because it distorts your real identity; you do not define yourself by these sins that are original with your consciousness and daily present in your life.

3. Extinguish Indwelling Sin by Killing It

Sin is not only an enemy, says Owen. Sin is at enmity with God. Enemies can be reconciled, but there is no hope for reconciliation for anything at enmity with God. Anything at enmity with God must be put to death. Our battles with sin draw us closer in union with Christ. Repentance is a new doorway into God’s presence and joy.
Indeed, our identity comes from being crucified and resurrected with Christ:

We have been buried with him through baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have become united with him in the likeness of his death, certainly we shall also be in the likeness of his resurrection, knowing this, that our old self was crucified with him, in order that our body of sin might be done away with, so that we would no longer be slaves to sin. (Romans 6:4–6)

Satan will use our indwelling sin as blackmail, declaring that we cannot be in Christ and sin in heart or body like this. In those moments, we remind him that he is right about one thing only: Our sin is indeed sin. It is indeed transgression against God and nothing else.
But Satan is dead wrong about the most important matter. In repentance, we stand in the risen Christ. And the sin that we have committed (and will commit) is covered by his righteousness. But fight we must. To leave sin alone, says Owen, is to let sin grow—“not to conquer it is to be conquered by it.”

4. Daily Cultivate Your New Life in Christ

God does not leave us alone to fight the battle in shame and isolation. Instead, through the power of the Holy Spirit, the soul of each believer is “vivified.” “To vivicate” means to animate, or to give life to. Vivification complements mortification (to put to death), and by so doing, it allows us to see the wide angle of sanctification, which includes two aspects:
1) Deliverance from the desire of those choice sins, experienced when the grace of obedience gives us the “expulsive power of a new affection” (to quote Thomas Chalmers).
2) Humility over the fact that we daily need God’s constant flow of grace from heaven, and that no matter how sin tries to delude us, hiding our sin is never the answer. Indeed, the desire to be strong enough in ourselves, so that we can live independently of God, is the first sin, the essence of sin and the mother of all sin.
Owen’s missing link is for believers only. He says, “Unless a man be regenerate (born again), unless he be a believer, all attempts that he can make for mortification [of sin] … are to no purpose. In vain he shall use many remedies, [but] he shall not be healed.”
What then should an unbeliever do? Cry out to God for the Holy Spirit to give him a new heart and convert his soul: “Mortification [of sin] is not the present business of unregenerate men. God calls them not to it as yet; conversion is their work—the conversion of the whole soul—not the mortification of this or that particular lust.”

Freed for Joy

In the writings of John Owen, I was shown how and why the promises of sexual fulfillment on my own terms were the antithesis of what I had once fervently believed. Instead of liberty, my sexual sin was enslavement. This 17th-century Puritan revealed to me how my lesbian desires and sensibilities were dead-end joy-killers.
Today, I now stand in a long line of godly women—the Mary Magdalene line. The gospel came with grace, but demanded irreconcilable war. Somewhere on this bloody battlefield, God gave me an uncanny desire to become a godly woman, covered by God, hedged in by his word and his will. This desire bled into another one: to become, if the Lord willed, the godly wife of a godly husband.
And then I noticed it.
Union with the risen Christ meant that everything else was nailed to the cross. I couldn’t get my former life back if I wanted it. At first, this was terrifying, but when I peered deep into the abyss of my terror, I found peace.
With peace, I found that the gospel is always ahead of you. Home is forward. Today, by God’s amazing grace alone, I am a chosen part of God’s family, where God cares about the details of my day, the math lessons and the spilled macaroni and cheese, and most of all, for the people, the image-bearers of his precious grace, the man who calls me beloved and the children who call me mother.  

Rosaria Champagne Butterfield is a former tenured professor of English at Syracuse University. After her conversion to Christianity in 1999, she developed a ministry to college students. She has taught and ministered at Geneva College, is a full-time mother and pastor’s wife, and is author of Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert (2012) and Openness, Unhindered: Further Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert on Sexual Identity and Union with Christ (2015). More from Rosaria Butterfield or visit Rosaria at http://www.desiringgod.org