Boy, temptation sure is rough. But the victory has been won. Pray God that I might never forget that fact. There's a quote somewhere by John Piper that runs along the lines of, "We should be glad our hope in salvation lies not in our deeds or faith, but in God's unwavering pursuit to magnify His glory." By no means is it verbatim, but the point is made clear.
My heart/head (because the two are so oft indistinguishable, for me) is now telling me: Persevere, not to resist sin and not so that I can feel good about myself; but persevere so that God might be glorified through it. And goodness gracious is it difficult.
Another wise man once said:
"No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good. A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. After all, you find out the strength of the German army by fighting against it, not by giving in. You find out the strength of a wind by trying to walk against it, not by lying down. A man who gives in to temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness - they have lived a sheltered life by always giving in. We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it: and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means - the only complete realist." - C.S. Lewis
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.
Hebrews 4:15
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Regret Not
This past week has been really tough. It's the first section of time in recent memory where I am honestly not doing spiritually well - and I guess that in itself is something to praise God for; that at least as far as I can tell, I generally feel at least content in my relationship with Him. But this is the first time in a long time that I can legitimately say I'm not doing well spiritually. I'm sure future-Peter might not remember exactly what I'm going through now, simply because I'm not entirely sure myself. It feels like it came out of nowhere - after a great CFC Revival weekend, a Sunday special praise and another coming up this weekend, I'm almost surprised I'm feeling this way. But nevertheless it is the case.
So being entirely unsure why I'm feeling this way - and thereby also a little confused as to how exactly I actually am feeling, I'm also entirely sure how to write about it. But I guess I'll just go down the list. The one sensation that keeps coming back to me, like a song that's stuck in your head that you can't get out, is regret.
Regret: what an ugly word. What an ugly emotion. Yet what a human condition it truly is. There are things I've done that I'm far less than proud of, and there are people I've mistreated in ways I would die for to be able to go back and remedy. I still have those struggles - I think. I can't exactly compare the present to the past. But the past is still there: and so I regret. But the past is still there: so regret is untouchable. So since I don't know - since humanity doesn't know - how to attack it, to remove it from its lofty, sneering seat, I am content to let it run its course in my mind and spirit. Regret plays a scorched earth wargame that I am too scared to win: because I'm sure now, on some level, I don't want to win.
But regret is not repentance. Regret is selfish in the highest sense. Not that sorrow or want for recompense is selfish, but in the sense that - at least for me - regret makes me play God. Regret says, "You could have done better. You could have done different." And so, I selfishly think that 'next time', I will do better. I will do different. And I will do good. Regret makes me see my past in a way as to plan to control my future with an iron fist - in only a way that I want to. If I can fix everything, nothing can ever go wrong. And if I can make it so nothing ever goes wrong, then I'll be God. And then I'll never have to die. And yet, I don't have even the slightest control over even the slightest parts of my life or myself. Regret never ends.
Repentance is in the same way selfless in the highest sense. Not that in view of my sin I suddenly give myself to the poor and needy, but in the sense that repentance requires nothing but humility. Repentance says, "You did not do better. You did not do different. But turn to God, and He will." I've been told on multiple occassions that repentance means literally 'to turn'. Yet how can I do that, knowing now that I have in the past (and will likely continue to) turn to the wrong things, and altogether fail to 'turn' at all? It seems clear to me that that's a bad question. It's not up to me whether or not I want to or I should repent, but it's wholly in view of God's infinite glory that repentance is absolutely necessary, that it's in fact the only option. If repentance only comes halfway, it turns into regret. But repentance in its completeness is knowing that I will never be able to do it on my own. Repentance in its completeness is knowing that without God, I will lose that scorched-earth game. Repentance is knowing that God never ends.
And if that's not a 'new song' of praise, I don't know what is.
"Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." Isaiah 1:18
So being entirely unsure why I'm feeling this way - and thereby also a little confused as to how exactly I actually am feeling, I'm also entirely sure how to write about it. But I guess I'll just go down the list. The one sensation that keeps coming back to me, like a song that's stuck in your head that you can't get out, is regret.
Regret: what an ugly word. What an ugly emotion. Yet what a human condition it truly is. There are things I've done that I'm far less than proud of, and there are people I've mistreated in ways I would die for to be able to go back and remedy. I still have those struggles - I think. I can't exactly compare the present to the past. But the past is still there: and so I regret. But the past is still there: so regret is untouchable. So since I don't know - since humanity doesn't know - how to attack it, to remove it from its lofty, sneering seat, I am content to let it run its course in my mind and spirit. Regret plays a scorched earth wargame that I am too scared to win: because I'm sure now, on some level, I don't want to win.
But regret is not repentance. Regret is selfish in the highest sense. Not that sorrow or want for recompense is selfish, but in the sense that - at least for me - regret makes me play God. Regret says, "You could have done better. You could have done different." And so, I selfishly think that 'next time', I will do better. I will do different. And I will do good. Regret makes me see my past in a way as to plan to control my future with an iron fist - in only a way that I want to. If I can fix everything, nothing can ever go wrong. And if I can make it so nothing ever goes wrong, then I'll be God. And then I'll never have to die. And yet, I don't have even the slightest control over even the slightest parts of my life or myself. Regret never ends.
Repentance is in the same way selfless in the highest sense. Not that in view of my sin I suddenly give myself to the poor and needy, but in the sense that repentance requires nothing but humility. Repentance says, "You did not do better. You did not do different. But turn to God, and He will." I've been told on multiple occassions that repentance means literally 'to turn'. Yet how can I do that, knowing now that I have in the past (and will likely continue to) turn to the wrong things, and altogether fail to 'turn' at all? It seems clear to me that that's a bad question. It's not up to me whether or not I want to or I should repent, but it's wholly in view of God's infinite glory that repentance is absolutely necessary, that it's in fact the only option. If repentance only comes halfway, it turns into regret. But repentance in its completeness is knowing that I will never be able to do it on my own. Repentance in its completeness is knowing that without God, I will lose that scorched-earth game. Repentance is knowing that God never ends.
And if that's not a 'new song' of praise, I don't know what is.
"Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." Isaiah 1:18
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