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Thursday, 19 June 2008

Fight fire with fire

I have a resource to share that I came across today. It concerns the mental warfare between holy and unholy desire. We know from experience and from Scripture that the battle that really counts is fought not in our visible behaviors and audible words, but in the unseen chambers of our minds and hearts, where a lifelong war is fought for our thoughts and desires. God's will or our will? God's thoughts or our thoughts? Desiring God or desiring me/that car/that woman/that relationship?

Well, this resource specifically concerns temptations of a visual nature. Guys, I think this might be helpful for you. I've heard some people say that, on the average, men think about sex every 6 minutes. Sadly, sometimes this is not far from the truth. Our sex-saturated culture is a lethal weapon in the hands of a Devil with crosshairs on our eternal souls.

Visual temptation is strong. Very strong. It isn't enough to just look away. The image remains in the mind, unless it is replaced in its schema by an alternative image.

Try this: try not thinking about a black cat. Don't think about it. Try as hard as you can to avoid having an sort of image whatsoever of a black cat. Resist any mental images that even remotely resemble a black cat.

If you're like me, you probably didn't fare very well at not thinking about the black cat. Unless you immediately thought about something else.

So here's a suggestion. Why not fight fire with fire? If Satan throws a visual image to incite lust, why not parry the lunge by straining our thoughts in another direction, at another visual image, say, of Christ crucified? What could be more incompatible with lust?

Here are some helpful words from John Piper (in Pierced by the Word) to help you focus your thoughts:
Demand of your mind that it fix its gaze on Christ on the cross. Use all your fantasizing power to see His lacerated back. Thirty-nine lashes left little flesh intact. He heaves with His breath up and down against the rough vertical beam of the cross. Each breath puts splinters into the lacerations. The Lord gasps. From time to time He screams out with intolerable pain. He tries to pull away from the wood and the massive spokes through His wrists rip into the nerve endings and He screams again with agony and pushes up with His feet to give some relief to His wrists. But the bones and nerves in His pierced feet crush against each other with anguish and He screams again. There is no relief. His throat is raw from screaming and thirst. He loses His breath and thinks He is suffocating, and suddenly His body involuntarily gasps for air and all the injuries unite in pain. In torment, He forgets about the crown of two-inch thorns and throws His head back in desperation, only to hit one of the thorns perpendicular against the cross beam and drive it half an inch into His skull. His voice reaches a soprano pitch of pain and sobs break over. His pain-wracked body as every cry brings more and more pain.
*bows to pause in prayer*

My friends, that was the price of our sin. That is how serious rebellion against God is. That is how much God loves us.

I'm not saying focusing on those particular images will grant you instant victory in whatever battle against temptation you are facing.
I am saying that we need to fight violently, to do more than "look away" or "pray". We need to somehow lift our eyes from the mire of our sin and temptation and behold the glory of our Savior. We have hope that doing this will connect us to the Grace that will save us.
But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect [or contemplate] the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. (I Corinthians 3:16-18)
A work in progress...

The lights are starting to come on.. As I like to say it, I think the Holy Spirit is finally getting through my thick skull: It's a process, my dear child.
Perfectionist me wants Joel to be free from sin, spectacularly loving, brimming with faith, bubbling with joy in Jesus, yesterday.
In some distant, cognitive sense, I have known this to be unrealistic, and perhaps unscriptural. But that knowledge has not been saving knowledge. My life testifies that I still believe in instant perfection. Tonight, I believe God is beginning to take me out that dreary wasteland into His garden of delightful Grace. :)

I thank God for writing, for His word, and for faithful standard-bearers of that glorious word such as Martin Luther, John Piper, and David Powlison.

Listen to the words of Martin Luther. They ring with wisdom that comes from God, and bring healing and redirection to the miracle of grace:

When our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, said
‘Repent,’ He called for the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.
This life, therefore,
is not righteousness but growth in righteousness,
not health but healing,
not being but becoming,
not rest but exercise.
We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it.
The process is not yet finished, but it is going on.
This is not the end but it is the road.
All does not yet gleam in glory but all is being purified

These words join with Powlison's to speak that the Christian life is to be a lifestyle of repentance, a process of turning and repenting, daily, on many fronts, in many theaters of life, as the Father, the Living God faithfully and tenderly crafts His dear children into the glorious likeness of His Son.

Paul said that "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 1:6). Did you catch that? Until the day of Christ Jesus. We are not finished yet. Not until we see Christ.

So we are works in progress, sinners becoming saints. We fall down, but we get up, for a saint is nothing but a sinner who falls down, and is picked up by grace (Prov 4:16).

May these words wash over your soul with healing waters if you are plagued with guilt daily over your sin and your imperfections. May you find through these words rest, quietness and unqualified and desperate trust in the unfailing Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Know with the confidence of saving faith that God is working. He is faithful, even when we are found faithless (2 Tim 2:13).
Living for reward...

So I think one general rule in interpreting the Bible is that repetitions emphasize something significant. When Christ says "verily verily", He's saying, "LISTEN UP. DON'T MISS THIS."

Well, here's a nice little phrase that repeats 3 times in Matthew 6:

"And your Father who sees in secret will reward you."

To be honest, I think these verses stand out more now that I've been exposed to Ps John Piper's exposition of Scripture, arguing that our primary purpose in life is not to "glorify God and enjoy Him forever", but to "glorify God by enjoying Him forever." An oversimplification of the compelling theology of "Christian hedonism", but not too far off the mark.

In any case, one thing that grows out of the theology of Christian hedonism is an obsession with desiring and enjoying God (ergo the name Desiring God Ministries). And so in our reading of Scripture, we Christian hedonists cannot help but notice the phrase "for the joy that was set before Him" in Hebrews 12:2:

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."

And again, in Matthew 5:11-12, where we are given the reason for our rejoicing in tribulation:

"Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you."

And finally, this morning, I couldn't help but notice in Matthew 6, a great discourse on what true righteousness should look like, Jesus begins, in the very first verse, by saying this:

"Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven."

So again we have that ubiquitous idea of reward. The idea here, I think, is that our righteousness is rightly motivated by reward. The righteousness that Christ both models and preaches is not "altruistic", "right for its own sake".. It's motivated by reward!
But that's selfish, you say!

*shrugs*

Look at the Scriptures, I reply. Really look. That idea of "reward", it's all over the place. It's hard to ignore.
But what is that reward?

Here's a thought I had this morning. One of the places that Christ says "And your Father who sees in secret will reward you" in Matthew 6 is when He's talking about prayer. And He's contrasting "right prayer" with the prayers of the hypocrites, who "love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by others" (v5). Jesus says, verily verily, that they already have their reward. What is their reward? To be seen by others.
What kind of goal is that for prayer???

Imagine the alternative - what Jesus is implying by His use of the word reward. Jesus doesn't say anything about prayers being answered. He talks about reward. Both types of prayer get rewarded. The hypocrites get noticed. That's their reward. But those who pray in their closets, to their Father in secret? What is their reward?

I contend that their reward is communion with the Father.

That is the reward that I think should motivate our righteousness.

I pray that you will begin and continue to know the reward that is our Father in heaven. =)
On being grateful and happy

Editor's note: For those who want to skip my chiong-hei-ness, you can skip to the bolded main point. =p

Aight, I think it's time that I put some of my own thoughts up here. I was reading David Myers' Psychology Through the Eyes of Faith (a general psychology primer + relevant faith perspectives) tonight, and was reminded of one thing that Social Psychology says about human nature: our judgments of our states of being are relative.

To a point, relative judgments are warranted and based in objective reality. Take income and purchasing power for instance. In middle-class America, if I pocket $1200 a month, I'm pushing the floor of the middle class. In middle-class Malaysia, if I pocket $1200 (approx. RM4k) a month, I'm comfortably above the midpoint of the middle class. If I pocket that same amount a month in, say, Indonesia, I'm filthy rich. $1200 a month living in Palo Alto, California might very well put me in the poverty danger zone.

But when it comes to judgments of happiness, numbers are only a small part of the equation. Here's where the relative factor really comes into play. I remember my parents, and countless others from their generation, telling of how they looked forward to and enjoyed so much the rare occasions when they would be able to eat meat at a meal. Days without meat were endured, or perhaps passed over, as ordinary. I imagine myself in their shoes and conclude that my pre-meal prayers would be especially fervent and grateful if there was meat on the table. Compare that to my present: I take it for granted that I'll get to eat meat everyday. If I don't get to eat meat for a day, I don't get unhappy necessarily, but I definitely expect to eat meat the next day. If that doesn't happen for a while, I'll probably consider myself a little unfortunate, and might find my happiness level a little down. Granted, this example might not strike a chord with everyone.. I love food very much, so that was the first thing I thought of. =p

Here's another one. I am often struck with unhappiness over the quality of music I can make. This used to happen a lot more, back in the day when I would watch video after video of drummer/pianist/bassist prodigies blowing me out the water with their mad skills. I would daydream and ask God why I didn't have perfect pitch/perfect rhythm/a better bass/a better voice, yada yada yada.

Wow. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I do get depressed sometimes, when I'm "not playing well." Imagine that. For crying out loud, I can make music! There's no doubt about that. I'm not boasting here - God deserves the credit for the gift he's given me. You know how genes work, right? We have zero control over our genes. In future, our parents might, in which case we could thank them in addition to God for whatever talents we had, but.. even then, there would be no cause for boasting in talent. So I boldly proclaim that I am gifted musically, and give God all the credit for that.

But I digress.

Last Sunday, I heard a voice pierce through my complaining mind, reminding me that there are many people for whom hearing pleasant sounds issue from a musical instrument under their conscious control is an alien experience (which is Joel-speak for "some ppl can't play music wan!!!" =p).

And I was grateful. And happy.

So that's kind of how it works. If my current position can be compared favorably to another position, then I can be happy. At least that's how it works according the "relative rule" (I made that name up).

Now, to my main point. What I thought of and wanted to share was this: Christians should be the most grateful and the most happy, because we know that we deserve nothing but wrath and spiritual death, and anything seems better compared to that. If I know that I deserved hell, it becomes possible to be thankful for anything. Wahhh so absolute??
I stand by it. Think about it. Eternal torment vs irritating flies. Which one is worse? Eternal torment vs bad grade in class. Which one is worse? Eternal torment vs death of a close friend. Ouch. That was a low one. But the comparison still holds for me. The point is, I ought to be thankful in everything, just as the Bible commands (I Thessalonians 5:18), and I can do this because the Holy Spirit and my experience of grace helps me to see what was coming to me (Death), and everything that actually does come to me seems infinitely better than that.

Make sense?
Gutsy Guilt

I discovered the scriptural concept of "Gutsy Guilt." It's been a great blessing to me, and I want to share it with you. I was exposed to this concept in a John Piper sermon on "Fighting for Joy", but "Gutsy Guilt" is explained beautifully in the following is an excerpt from John Piper's sermon "How to Deal with the Guilt of Sexual Failure for the Glory of Christ and His Global Cause", delivered to a massive conference of youth at Passion 2007. Be blessed. Our God is to be worshiped and adored! =)

_________________________________________________________

And what will you say to him? I conclude with my second point, Trusting Christ to the hilt with gutsy guilt. Micah 7:8-9 is a picture of what you say to your enemy when he scoffs at your defeat. Here is what you say. My summary of these words is to call them gutsy guilt. I call it that because the believer admits that he has done wrong and that God is dealing roughly with him. But even in a condition of darkness and discipline, he will not surrender his hold on the truth that God is on his side. Listen to these amazing words. Mark them. Memorize them. Use them whenever Satan tempts you to throw away your life on trifles because that’s all you’re good for.

Rejoice not over me, O my enemy; when I fall, I shall rise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me. I will bear the indignation of the Lord because I have sinned against him, until he pleads my cause and executes judgment for me. He will bring me out to the light; I shall look upon his vindication. (Micah 7:8-9)

This is what victory looks like the morning after failure. Meditate on it long and hard when I am gone. Learn to take your theology and speak like this to the devil or anyone else who tells you that Christ is not capable of using you mightily for his global cause. Here is what you say:

“Rejoice not over me, O my enemy.” You make merry over my failure? You think you will draw me into your deception? Think again.

“When I fall, I shall rise.” Yes, I have fallen. And I hate what I have done. I grieve at the dishonor I have brought on my king. But hear this, O my enemy, I will rise. I will rise.

“When I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me.” Yes, I am sitting in darkness. I feel miserable. I feel guilty. I am guilty. But that is not all that is true about me and my God. The same God who makes my darkness is a sustaining light to me in this very darkness. He will not forsake me.

“I will bear the indignation of the Lord because I have sinned against him, until he pleads my cause and executes judgment for me.” O yes, my enemy, this much truth you say, I have sinned. I am bearing the indignation of the Lord. But that is where your truth stops and my theology begins: He—the very one who is indignant with me—he will plead my cause. You say he is against me and that I have no future with him because of my failure. That’s what Job’s friends said. That is a lie. And you are a liar. My God, whose Son’s life is my righteousness and whose Son’s death is my punishment, will execute judgment for me. For me! FOR me! And not against me.

“He will bring me out to the light; I shall look upon his vindication.” This misery that I now feel because of my failure, I will bear as long as my dear God ordains. And this I know for sure—as sure as Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is my punishment and my righteousness—God will bring me out to the light, and I will look upon his righteousness, my Lord and my God.