The Enemy Within

    For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For 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 within me.
    So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin.  (Romans 7:14-25 ESV)

There is a tendency amongst some evangelicals to blame negative outcomes, poor judgement or blatant or not-so-blatant sin on external forces, most often demonic "oppression". Less than ideal outcomes end up being the fault of a will-o'-the-wisp bent on frustrating our best efforts. At the risk of offending some of my well-intentioned brethren, I must say that I find it amusing that people who should know better would say this. Sure, I believe the Forces of Darkness are at work--the Scriptures are very plain about this. But I don't believe that these forces have the power to force their will on us, causing us to take courses we would otherwise not take. I believe they have the power to influence us and lure us with any temptation available, yet I remain convinced that the choice is always ours. We choose to sin. We choose to make bad decisions. We listen to those proverbial voices from each shoulder and decide for ourselves.

There is another verse found in Jeremiah 17:9 which reads, "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?" (ESV). This more accurately explains where the true darkness is to be found: the human heart. Now this, the heart, is metaphorical in this sense and isn't the muscular organ responsible for pumping our blood. Instead, it refers more to the soul of a person:  the mind, will and emotions, or those intangible parts of us that have no physical form yet exist nonetheless.

It would indeed be convenient if we could blame our actions on external forces. However, drawing this conclusion requires that we disregard what is obvious to us all. The one common factor in all of our downfalls, mistakes and sins is us.

Even though I, too, often succumb to idiotic notions that my decisions can be reasonably blamed on someone or something else, I know what's really going on. There are times I reflect on a past action, marveling that the idiot that did that thing was me. Usually, it seems a foreign notion that I can fall to such levels of depravity. My shame swells when I see that I am not only capable of such bad stuff, but that I often choose this path against everything that I know and believe.

Things most often kept in check can sneak out at weak moments and show us just how deceitful and sick our heart really is. Weak moments: there is the flaw. We have weak moments, moments when our personal desires clash with what is right or good, and desire is the victor. We become weak when we begin to meditate on those things that are not conducive to right thinking. If I have a particular weakness that centers around lustful thoughts, then I need to become extra vigilant when the things that fuel these thoughts cross my path. If my guard is dropped in these moments, then that right jab will most likely connect with my glass jaw and down I go.

It might be considered unkind or unloving to say such things. After all, this is a frontal assault on self-esteem. How are we going to feel good about ourselves when we are confronted with the notion that our sinfulness is a buck that we cannot pass. I believe it is more harmful when we ignore reality and grasp for the vapors of our own self-righteousness. Dealing with the truth of this matter directly, even when the subject matter is unpleasant and unflattering, leaves us in a territory much closer to where we should be.

 

Why I Go to Church

I just read a post from a fellow xangan:  "Why I Don't Go to Church". (OK, so I just skimmed over it. I found the animated gifs very distracting. Sorry.). After reflecting, I wanted to offer an alternative view. It is my hope that my story may offer another perspective, a picture of what real faith looks like.

This fellow's story is a story I've heard many times: people who feel a need to explain why they aren't people of faith. I'm not absolutely sure why people feel the need to explain this. I figure that some have truly been searching, just in the wrong places, and they really hope to find something real in the future. Others are more mean-spirited, wanting to denigrate people of faith, painting them as idiots, doofuses, rubes, hicks, or generally unsophisticated wanderers, grasping after snake oil to bring healing and/or meaning to their dull lives. Yet others just don't seem willing to consider the existence of God. They live a totally concrete realm where there is no room for faith in the unseen or intangible.

Well, we're all religious. That's a fact. We place our faith in a plethora of things. Often it is God, or something like him; a deity bigger than ourselves with power and knowledge greater than ours. More often than not, the object of our faith is ourselves. We believe in our own abilities to direct our own destinies and in our own abilities to discern right from wrong, good from bad. There is also more unorthodox approaches to faith, which end up being a goulash made up of God-worship and self-worship, where no real devotion exists at all. In the midst of all these are those who place their faith in a system that is relativistic, where disparate belief systems have an equal position in reality and truth. However, I digress. This was not to be a treatise on religion or faith in general. It is a testimony on my faith and why active church membership and attendance is central to that faith.

I believe there is one God, and that He happens to be the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, as well as the Twelve Apostles, Paul and others who have followed them. I believe that He has existed into eternity past and is the Creator of all that exists. I believe that He is not only Creator, but is Sustainer as well. Our daily existence would not be possible without His intervention or His guiding hand.

I also believe that this God exists in perfection. He is perfectly holy. He is perfectly just. He is perfect in His love and in every other aspect of His character.

As He is perfectly Holy, he requires that His children be holy also (Lev. 11:44). Well, the initial problem is that we're not holy. We're born into sin. We continue in that sin until we change our course. It's this condition of being sinners from the beginning that separates us from God. He is holy. We are sinners. Until we deal with our sinfulness, we have no right to approach God's throne.

God's perfect attributes don't trample on one another. In other words, God, being perfect in love, won't be so loving that he overlooks our sinfulness and denies His holiness. Also, He wouldn't be only holy and deny His loving nature. The multiple facets of God's nature cannot be fathomed by humans who exist in a world of perfect imperfection. Nothing we know or see is absolutely perfect. It's all flawed, so we cannot understand a Being that isn't flawed and that exists in absolute perfection. Also, it's hard to grasp how God can be loving and allow evil in the world or how he can be loving and still punish people for their sin. Such contrasting characteristics seem irrational and illogical. Some skeptics use these notions to excuse their disbelief in this God; they cannot understand or believe that such a being is possible.

Well, God, being the loving God He is, made possible a way for us, His sinful, rebellious creation, to restore our fellowship with Him. He sent His son to earth, as a human, to live amongst us as our example, and ultimately to die unjustly for our sins. This paid the price for all who avail themselves of its benefit with their own personal faith. Faith, in this case, doesn't mean intellectual assent. It means a belief that is evidenced by a change of heart, a redirection of focus and a reversal of life direction. It means not just believing, but standing on what you believe.

Most everyone has heard this story. I heard it many years ago. I saw who I was, where I was in relation to God, and reached out to Him for deliverance. It's been said that once you see the truth, you cannot "unsee" it. I've found this to be my experience. Once God revealed this to me, it became real and tangible. My forgiveness was effective. It restored my relationship with my Creator and I began to see things that had been hidden before. I was, in reality, a new creation.

So why do I go to church? I go because I must. I am compelled to gather with those who have experienced this forgiveness. We, as a body, are drawn to worship God and to celebrate the redemptive work of Jesus. We are commanded as believers to gather in this way (Hebrews 10:24-25), however we would almost certainly gather even if the imperative didn't exist. It's instinctive for believers to want to be with one another, especially when we live in an environment that is becoming increasingly hostile toward denominations and faith communities that hold to non-relativistic absolutes such as the Bible.

That is why I go to church.

Many will snicker, sneer or scoff at all this, and that's OK with me. I don't feel compelled to convince others that I'm right and they're wrong. I will gladly tell my story to any who would want to hear it, yet if you fail to agree with me on matters of faith, when you discover that what I say is actually true, the consequences are yours to bear.

Faith actually isn't as nebulous as some might think. In the light of eternity, it is actually rather weighty.

 

300K

This morning, on the way to work, my little truck rolled over 300,000 miles.

I've passed the 300K milestone in only one other vehicle, our last Suburban, which cratered at 315K. My Nissan pickup, now at 300K, is showing no signs of slowing down yet. Sure, it has signs of its age, as do I, but it and I keep on going in spite of dings, dents, creaks and sags. 

It's a 1995 King Cab with a V-6. Prior to buying this one, I had always wanted a truck just like this one. I don't regret the purchase. The only thing better would have been if I had been able to buy it new. You see, I bought it used, with 94K already on it. It had been wrecked before, but had been repaired and looked and functioned as if it had never been injured.

I bought it from a Jordanian named Sonny in Arlington. He ran a tire shop/used car lot and was training to be a manager of a Chili's restaurant in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. I saw an ad in Truck Trader magazine and called him. Since the photos in Truck Trader were black-and-white, when I called I asked him what color it was. "Maroon," he said, rolling the 'r' with his strong Middle-Eastern accent. I believed it to be a good deal at the time, but never imagined that I'd put another 200K+ on it. Welcome surprises!

When I bought the aforementioned Suburban, it already had 140K on it. I've rolled several other vehicles over 200K, and I look forward to seeing my little Nissan pickup eclipse the Suburban and beat 315K.