The Necessity of Non-reciprocity

One day in eternity future, sin will be nothing more than a vague memory. The pain of our offense against others, the woundedness we taste when sinned against, the angst over something being so wrong with our world, and the longing for God’s great work of grace to be completed in us will give way to glorious and delightful liberation into wave after wave of passionately-pursued holiness . . . for the joy of living in harmony with this God who set his love upon us.

But now, as Paul mentions in Romans 8, we who have tasted the first fruits of this redemption still long for the culmination of the fulness of all that Jesus has procured for those for whom he died. We live between the “no condemnation” for our sins because of Jesus’ death and sacrifice and the “no sin remaining” in our lives as the final dimension of that marvelous cross-work is brought to fruition.

And living in that in between time, I have thinking about the various kinds of reasons why God might leave us, struggling as we do, with sin. Over the last few posts, I have reflected on some of what the Scriptures have to say about the presence of sin in our lives and in the world, the power of God’s transforming grace, and the hints found in the Biblical texts as to some thoughts as to why sin has not yet been eradicated fully in from our souls.

As I have been pondering these things, there is at least one more dimension to the reasons for remnant sin that stirs in my thinking–and it brings some sense to why God permits or allows sin to remain in the lives of others with whom I am seeking to do life well.

These thoughts find anchor in Jesus’ words to his followers as recorded for us by Luke:

If you  love  those who  love  you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners  love  those who  love  them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners in order to receive back the same amount. But  love  your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for he himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men. (Luke 6:32-35)

Here is what strikes me as so radical about this statement: If my relationships are reciprocal–if those I love love me back in some kind of equal measure–than I will not be able to grow up to love like the Father loves.

This means that those relationships wherein I will have the best opportunity to genuinely reflect the Father’s love–whether they be friend, or family, or spouse, or children, or co-worker, or fellow-follower of Jesus–will be just those relationships where there is some lack of reciprocity, some refusal to return good back for the good I do, some shortfall in the reciprocation of love I have bestowed. In other words, where sin inhibits the full expression of love back to me I will find my greatest opportunities to grow to love like God loves–love the way he is growing me up to love.

So although God will, in his grace and goodness and sovereign time, bring an end to all sin at some future moment of glorious restoration, for now there is this benefit that accrues to us in the remnant of sin that is experienced in our relationships with others–it is our chance to grow to love!

Something More Than “Personal”

My tendency is to think that the struggles I face with sin in my life are something “just between me and Jesus.” Clearly there must be some sense in which this is true. I am the one responsible for my sinning; Jesus is the one to whom I must turn in order to experience the forgiveness that he has procured for me through his life, death, and resurrection (1 John 1:9). But am I right in thinking that my sin is solely something with which I should wrestle on my own, in isolation, as something of a “lone ranger” saint? Could it be that addressing sin, even in my own life, should be something more than “personal”?

In the past few posts, I have been thinking out loud about the ongoing nature of the struggle that followers of Jesus face in dealing with their sin. I have been trying to think well–think biblically–about the reasons that might account for the persistence of sinning without reducing it all to “if it’s meant to be [that is, if I am going to be personally holy], than it’s up to me!” That thinking tends toward making sanctification [the big theological term for practical experiential holiness in life] the results of “works” rather than a “grace through faith” proposition–and that is something that seems to be to be quite at odds with the Gospel.

I have suggested, in one of those earlier posts, that perhaps one of the reasons that sin persists in the life of a followers of Jesus is that he or she is approaching the sin problem as it if were to be addressed individually, without any “connectedness” to the body of Christ, the community of faith. Embarrassed as we are by sin (or, perhaps, embarrassed as we ought to be would be better), we are reluctant to be candid and open with others about our struggles. But, as we thought about this in that earlier post, the possibility was raised that without the Spirit-gifted input of others in the body, we might not find the deliverance we desperately long for.

This idea was anchored, to some degree, in Paul’s words to the followers of Jesus in Galatia:

Brethren, even if anyone is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, so that you too will not be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:1-2)

Followers of Jesus can be “caught” in sin and the restoration needed comes through the gentle ministry of other followers of Jesus. This is one way we bear one another’s burdens.

Continuing to think along these lines, I realized that there are a number of places in Scripture where I am invited to think about the need to address issues of sin in something other than a “me and Jesus” approach. For example, in the letter to the Hebrews we read:

But encourage one another day after day, as long as it is still called “Today,” so that none of you will be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. (Hebrews 3:13)

That is a startling call . . . if I am reading it correctly. The implication is that we can resist the hardening effects that often come through deceptive sin through our speaking into one another’s lives. In other words, I can find freedom from sin’s deception through the encouragement of others. And the flip-side of that leads me to think that I might, in fact, be stuck in the deceptiveness of sin if I do not invite or welcome the encouragement that might come to me through others.

To the degree that this is true, I need to begin thinking a bit differently about how I deal with sin in my own life. Perhaps victory over particular sins will not come simply through my personal pursuit of holiness, as I look to Jesus. Seeing as Jesus has placed me in a community of faith, seeing as the Spirit gifts others in this community of faith for the purpose of ministering in his wisdom and power into the lives of others, and seeing as I have blind spots and weaknesses that could well be addressed by the strengths and insights of others, it just might be that the growth out of my sin and into greater experiential holiness will happen only as I give myself to life lived in genuine open relationship with others.

As I begin to see this, I wonder if this is the kind of thinking that is behind the words of James:

Therefore, confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another so that you may be healed. The effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much. Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain on the earth for three years and six months. Then he prayed again, and the sky poured rain and the earth produced its fruit. My brethren, if any among you strays from the truth and one turns him back, let him know that he who turns a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins. (JAmes 5:16-20)

Will my healing–perhaps physical, perhaps healing of soul–come through the effective prayers of others, others to whom I have willingly confessed my sin and my need for a fresh experience of grace? Will my turning in freedom from sin–my rescue from that which has crippled me–come through the prayerful extension of grace through others who long to aid me in that turn, others to whom I have willingly confessed my sin and my need for a fresh experience of grace?

I Want To Do It By Myself!

It can be cute when you are first watching a child learn to walk or color or dress himself or climb up the slide. You can often hear something like, “I want to do it by myself.” And there is a certain sense in which that is a good and healthy thing.

But when it comes to the spiritual life, I am coming to see that an attitude of self-sufficiency might actually be more harmful than healthy. And, perhaps surprisingly, I do think that this might have something to do with why we sometimes end up stuck in our dealings with some particular sin. (Yes, I am continuing to think out loud about this subject . . . why God allows those who are followers of Jesus to remain seemingly stuck in their sin.)

Let’s start with a big overarching idea–one that, unfortunately, doesn’t seem to grip many believers these days. In Ephesians 4, Paul makes it clear that friends and followers of Jesus constitute one “body” (Eph. 4:12), that each member of that body has a part to play in the life of other members of that body (Eph. 4:16 ), and that for the body–and, hence, for the individual believers–to grow up into spiritual maturity these members need to be relating to one another in love and truth-based relationships (Eph. 4:13, 15). That must mean that on some real and deep level no one is going to come to maturity on his own or by herself.

How does this relate to the issue of sin? Maybe we need to ask: How does my settled confidence that I can handle this by myself, thank you very uch, push against this idea of life as part of a body?

Notice what Paul tells the friends and followers of Jesus in Galatia:

Brethren, even if anyone is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, so that you too will not be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:1-2)

Apparently (as we all know!) fellow-followers of Jesus can be “caught” in sin; we can fall into the trap. When that happens, the “spiritual” ones are supposed to step in to aid in bringing about restoration; “spiritual” referring not to those who think they are “all that,” but those who are depending on and in step with the Spirit. And this seems to be part of what it means to bear one another’s burdens.

So, let’s say that I am struggling with a particular sin. I feel “caught” and don’t feel I am making much headway. What is Jesus’ design for helping me find restoration? Well, from what we have been told in Ephesians and from the picture presented in Galatians, perhaps I really need to invite another brother or sister or two into the struggle so that they can “bear the burden” with me and aid me in finding the restoration that I desperately want.

And if that is the case, then could it not be that as long as I keep trying, desperately and on my own, to resolve this particular sin problem I have without leaning into the “body life” that Jesus intended that the Lord might just not bring me resolution or restoration? As serious as my sin is, my unwillingness to have it addressed in the context of the life of the body as Jesus designed, may be a bigger issue . . . and my particular sin might be left to trouble me until I lean more fully into the life Jesus intends.

Yes, the sin in my life is serious. I am not suggesting that we resign ourselves to living with unresolved sin issues. But which is the more crippling sin? The particular “vice” that has a vise grip on my soul or my obstinate independent streak that (wrongly) insists that I don’t need anyone else to grow in life with Jesus?

OK . . . Wait . . . What?!?

Habakkuk, the Old Testament prophet, has a concern (as voiced in chapter one of the book bearing his name); he wants to know what God is going to do about the evil he sees in Israel. God’s reply is that he is going to bring in the Chaldeans to afflict the Israelites so as to discipline them and correct them. I can imagine Habakkuk’s internal reaction to hearing that news . . .

“OK, Lord, you are going to do something. I see that. And you are going to use the Chaldeans. But . . . wait . . . let me think. The Chaldeans are even more wicked than those, Lord, you are going to correct! What is going on here? This doesn’t sound so good after all!”

What God is going to do in the life of the nation of Israel is use the sinfulness of the Chaldeans to call Israel’s attention to its own neglected sinfulness. God will use the sin of the Chaldeans in a sinless way to call Israel to repent of her sin. Pretty amazing . . . and a picture of one of the ways we might want to think about why God permits or allows sin to continue in our lives.

In an earlier post, I begin thinking out loud about why God permits sin to continue in the life of a follower of Jesus. The Lord is at work to complete what he has begun (Philippians 1:6); he will not fail in bringing us into a full and complete conformity to the character of Jesus (Romans 8:29). And God’s work in us is not merely to get our behavior to conform, he is moving to change both our will and our living and bring both in line with his own good intentions (Philippians 2:12-13).

In this sense, in a profound way, we must recognize that our growth in maturity is not simply a matter of our own good intentions and attempts at living holy, but our growth in holiness is as much a work of grace as is our initial salvation. We press on to maturity, so far as God permits or allows (Hebrews 6:1-3).

So, why does God allow this or that particular sin, in my life, that I long to be free from to continue un-conquered? Why not bring me the freedom I believe I am pursuing? The picture of what was happening in Habakkuk’s day might provide one way to think of this (but not the only way . . . more to come in future posts).

God permitted the sin of the Chaldeans to bring the focus onto the overlooked sin of the Israelites. He did that on a national level. Could he not do that on a more personal level?

The idea? That God allows or permits “sin A” in my life even though I would like to get past it because by allowing it to continue God can use it to call my attention to my overall need for him to deal with other sin in my life . . . perhaps a “sin B” that I don’t really see or want to look at. Victory over “sin A” will only be allowed when I have come to fully own the whole problem of my sin, which includes “sin B” which I tolerate or over which I don’t feel the same distress.

Now in no way does this lead us to think that we could or should be complacent about sin. Any sin, all sin, disrupts our fellowship with God and leaves us in a state wherein we cannot experience the richness and joy of life in Jesus.

But are we willing to admit the possibility that our struggle with some particular “sin A” is perhaps not the most serious obstacle to our holiness and that God withholds the grace that would bring us victory there in order to drive us to himself in greater desperation so that he might address all our sin, even that which we either don’t see or don’t want to address?