How Can I Change?/Tools of the Trade (II)

From Gospel Translations

Self-Denial and a Life of Discipleship

A few years ago Fritos introduced an extremely hot Jalapeno chip. I tried to conceal my pleasure that, since the kids couldn’t stand them, I wouldn’t have to share.

At the store my children would ask, “Hey, Dad, why are we getting that kind? We don’t like them!” I know, thought I. That is precisely the point.

Within months, Fritos discontinued that flavor...no doubt on orders from above.

The famous Chinese Christian leader Watchman Nee once wrote, “Let us remember that the one reason for all misunderstanding, all fretfulness, all discontent, is that we secretly love ourselves.”^[1] I can only add that with some of us, it’s no secret. We may attempt to hide our selfishness, but it inevitably bubbles up to the surface. Far better to heed Jesus’ call and address this self-love directly.

Then he said to them all: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.” (Lk 9:23-24)

Each day in Christ’s school of discipleship holds fresh opportunity for self-denial. Why is this much-forgotten key to the Christian life so important? Because it overcomes selfishness, making it possible for us to love God and others.

One arena in which selfishness gets exposed pretty quickly is marriage. I have often said to my wife (only half facetiously), “Honey, it’s not that I don’t love you. My problem is that I just love myself more.” Fortunately, God provides us with a custom-fitted cross for the removal of such attitudes.

Don’t be fooled by the psychobabble that teaches we must first learn to love ourselves in order to become whole. Nowhere in Scripture are we commanded to love ourselves. We love ourselves too much as it is. In fact, we give ourselves the benefit of the doubt in almost every possible instance. We blame conflicts on others while flattering ourselves for having noble intentions. If we only extended to others the same grace we grant ourselves...what a wonderful world it would be.

When Jesus said one of the requirements for eternal life was to “love your neighbor as yourself,” he was not suggesting that self-love was in any way deficient. Rather, he was saying “love your neighbor as you (already) love yourself”—and that’s a whole lot of loving. But it will not come naturally. It may be one of the most unnatural things you ever do. Loving others comes only as we practice self-denial along the pathway of discipleship.

Self-denial and love intersect at the point of serving. Jesus gave us the supreme example by going to the cross on our behalf. That was the ultimate act of selfless service. But all during his life he put the needs and welfare of others before his own. Whether washing his disciples’ feet or feeding hungry multitudes, our Lord led by example. In Philippians 2, Paul could point to Jesus’ serving, self-denying attitude as one all Christians should emulate.

Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant.... (Php 2:4-7)

Another book in this series, Disciplines for Life, discusses in detail the various biblical ways we may practice a life of discipleship. Spiritual exercises such as fasting, consistent prayer, and confession require effort. But they are well worth it, promising rewards now and in the life to come.

Trials Along the Way

It was one of Job’s counselors who accurately surmised, “Man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward” (Job 5:7). That’s been our lot ever since the Fall. Many of those difficulties, of course, result from our own sin and foolishness. On more than one occasion I’ve traced a headache to tension caused by my own stubborn persistence in worry. When Clara and I experience friction in our marriage, more likely than not my selfishness is to blame. We shouldn’t be surprised when we suffer the consequences of our sinful behavior. However, the Lord can graciously use even these for our growth in godliness if we will repent and seek to learn from them.

But what about those trials—those Joseph scenarios— for which we are not responsible? It’s unlikely we’ll be sold into slavery by our family members, but there are times when others sin against us, or when we suffer afflictions just because we live in a fallen world.

Joseph saw the big picture. He recognized his eternal destiny and the destinies of those around him. Consequently, he was able to appreciate the way God sovereignly directed his life’s circumstances. As he told his brothers, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Ge 50:20).

When things seem to go against us, we must realize our Father has a purpose in mind and is primarily interested in our response. As a matter of fact, it’s not too much to say God engineers difficulties in order to urge us onward in dependent trust upon him:

Remember how the Lord your God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. (Dt 8:2-3)

Who humbled and tested the Israelites, bringing them to a place of hunger? Was it Satan? No—it was God. Why? So they would know how much they needed an ongoing, vital relationship with him. Pause a moment to let this sink in: God is prepared to sacrifice your short-term happiness in order to achieve his eternal and gracious purpose in you. As a genuine Christian, you “must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God” (Ac 14:22). Don’t confuse your Father’s loving discipline for cruelty or neglect.

Joseph learned what we all must learn: “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Ro 8:28). Not some things, or even most things. All things. Even in cases of rape or childhood sexual abuse or birth defects or terminal illness, the sovereign God always has a redemptive plan that will lead to his greater glory.

To understand Paul’s statement here, we must focus on God’s agenda, not our own. His purpose is that we be conformed to the image of his Son. Thus, hardships or injustices—though not seemingly favorable to us—qualify as “good” because they serve to make us more like Christ.

This is not easy to accept or understand. I wouldn’t fault you for asking, “But how can Paul claim that all things work together for my good? I see many things working for me, but many others that seem to be working against me.” Let me try to answer that with an illustration.

Before the advent of digital timepieces, a watch’s inner workings consisted of a number of cogs, some turning in a clockwise direction and others counter-clockwise. At first glance it might seem unlikely that anything useful could result from such an arrangement. But when the mainspring was wound, though the wheels turned in opposite directions, they all worked together to move the hands of the watch forward.

So it is with God’s providential ordering of the universe ...and of our lives.^[5] We need to realize God is so interested in our spiritual growth (sanctification) that he is willing to sacrifice our temporal happiness to secure eternal blessings for us.

It’s easy to be a Christian when things are going well. But in the heat of difficult circumstances, some doubt they will be able to maintain their allegiance to Christ. Often, as a young Christian, I would read of Peter’s denial of Christ and wonder if I would someday do the same. Perhaps you’ve had similar thoughts. The fact is, however, that Jesus prayed for Peter and through grace restored him to a place of great usefulness.

The reason we persevere as Christians is because God himself preserves us:

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one. (Jn 10:27-30, emphasis added)

It is hard to imagine a more emphatic and reassuring declaration of protection.

“The doctrine [of perseverance] declares that the regenerate are saved through persevering in faith and Christian living to the end, and that it is God who keeps them persevering,” writes J.I. Packer.^[7] God’s Word tells us that Jesus Christ saves “to the uttermost” everyone who comes to God by him (Heb 7:25 NKJV).

Thus, every Christian may have assurance that he or she will persevere, not because of any individual’s own strength or ability, but because God is faithful to preserve us.

The Place of the Law

Christians are often confused about the role God’s law has in sanctification. I’ve heard some people loudly proclaim, without any qualification, that the law has been done away with—and good riddance. And I’ve heard just the opposite from others whose agenda for reforming society includes the wholesale re-institution of Old Testament law, administered much as Islamic law is enforced in some fundamentalist Moslem countries today. As I see it, neither extreme does justice to the New Testament’s teaching on the subject.

Before we go any further, though, let’s clarify what we mean by “the law.” I’m indebted to theologian Bruce Milne for the following description:

By “law” is here meant the fundamental Old Testament moral prescriptions summarized in the decalogue [Ten Commandments]. Old Testament ceremonial laws have been superseded in the sense that Christ has fulfilled them; Old Testament social legislation ceased to be normative in the sense that the church has replaced the theocracy of Israel. Principles underlying both ceremonial and social laws have continuing relevance and application.^[8]

Milne’s definition represents the distillation of a great deal of closely reasoned theological study. It makes important distinctions between the use of the law now and the way it was applied during the Old Testament era. It also takes into account the utter significance of the person and work of our Lord, whose coming, though in accord with the law, resulted in a thoroughly new awareness of what that law means. Scripture shows the transition we’ve made from slaves of the law to sons: “But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights of sons” (Gal 4:4-5).

Milne has effectively refuted the would-be reformers seeking to institutionalize Mosaic laws, but we still need to address those who consider the law null and void. Is the law an ongoing help or an outdated hindrance?

The un-unequivocal answer to this question is...both. If we view the law as a means to right standing with God (justification), then we’ll be hindered from true sanctification as the Pharisees were. They failed to see law-keeping was never intended to justify us, not even under the Old Covenant. On the other hand, if we understand God’s purpose for the law, then it remains a useful tool in our pursuit of sanctification.

The law has always represented the character of God, reflecting his interest in holiness. And the Ten Command- ments still serve as the effective summary of God’s moral and ethical expectations of the human race.

Let’s pose another fundamental question: Why did God give these “moral prescriptions” in the first place? If the law was never intended to justify us, what is its purpose?

To restrain evildoing. According to Scripture, the “law- ful use of the law” serves to curb the spread of evil (1Ti 1:9-11 NAS). Because lawlessness threatens both individu- al godliness and society, some check on it is essential. In this regard God’s law corresponds to secular criminal law.

To show us our sin. “Where then lies the point of the law? It was an addition made to underline the existence and extent of sin until the arrival of the ‘seed’ to whom the promise referred” (Gal 3:19 Phillips). As the New English Bible puts it, the law was added “to make wrong- doing a legal offense,” that is, to make men clearly aware of the distinction between good and evil. Or as William Hendriksen states, “to bring about within his heart and mind an awakened sense of guilt.”^[10] J.B. Phillips expresses it well in his translation of the Bible: “It is the straight- edge of the law that shows us how crooked we are” (Ro 3:20). Once it has exposed our true nature, the law can accomplish its next crucial purpose.

To bring us to Christ. “Before this faith came,” wrote Paul, “we were held prisoners by the law, locked up until faith should be revealed” (Gal 3:23). Trying to fulfill the law’s demands is a futile task. And that, in fact, is the very revelation the law is intended to bring. It exists to show us our sinful, weak, and desperate condition. “Therefore the law has become our tutor to lead us to Christ, that we may be justified by faith” (Gal 3:24 NAS). Once we’ve bat- tered our legalistic selves silly against the law’s unyielding demands, we will be ready “to turn to God and to his Son Jesus Christ for pardon and power.”^[11]

To serve as a guideline for godly living. Like guardrails along a highway, the law is designed to keep us from going off course. It also clarifies the course we ought to pursue. Torah, the Hebrew word for “law,” has several meanings, including “the sort of instruction a good parent gives his child.”^[12] God as our Father wants to spare us unnecessary difficulties. If we want to live smart, we’ll keep his law.

Once we come to Christ, our relationship to the law changes radically. Our motive for obeying its decrees is no longer fear but gratitude. When we realize that the God who created, redeems, and sustains us with unmerited grace is worthy of our joyful obedience, we will say with the psalmist, “Oh, how I love your law!” (Ps 119:97).