Growing up in the church, I was very good about hiding my brokenness. In church culture, it’s okay to have struggled with sin so long as your iniquities are written in the past tense. In fact, if you have an exciting testimony that includes things like narcotics and loose women, your decision to turn to Jesus is lauded as all the more dramatic: evidence of the true power of Christ to win over a heart. I’m not trying to be facetious here, and I’ve been blown away on countless occasions by the drastic life-change that occurs when someone decides to repent of their former ways and follow down the path of Jesus. The point I’m trying to make is this: once you’re in the door, it’s not as easy to talk about the brokenness and sin that still remains. Sanctification is, in a sense, viewed less as a lifelong process and more as an event that’s captured in a moment or a prayer.
Personally, I don’t really have a past tense that excludes Jesus. I knelt down on my knees in my living room when I was in 1st or 2nd grade and asked that Jesus would come into my heart. I remember this moment vividly, and I truly believe that I made an important and life-altering decision at the point in time (young as I was). Here’s what didn’t happen in that moment: I did not suddenly become righteous and obedient to God. Now, you might argue that in a sense I did become righteous – what with atonement theory (1 Cor 6:11) and the work of the cross and resurrection. But in my Christian walk – as a follower of Jesus – I have struggled mightily against the flesh. I’ve had days where I felt I’ve lived a life completely unworthy of my calling. I’ve struggled with gnawing guilt and regret. In short, I am simultaneously a Christian and a broken man.
I now find myself in my mid-twenties working in vocational ministry in a job that I love, surrounded by Godly men and women who consistently encourage me in my walk. But the tendency to hide and to sweep my brokenness under the rug remains. I buy into the lie that I must at least appear to have my crap together, because you aren’t really allowed to have your crap in too much disarray at this stage in the game, especially if you’re getting a paycheck from a church. But in the midst of that lie I am met with a whisper:
The truth will set you free.
The most damaging blow you can deliver to your sin is to expose it. Confess it. Drown it in light.
As I move forward on my journey with Jesus, that is my intention. I want to live a life that’s characterized by transparency, accountability, and a reliance upon the grace of God – not upon my own contrived versions of self-righteousness. We cannot grow spiritually if that which haunts us remains tucked away in the shadows. It must be brought out. This is not easy, and this is counter to our human nature, to be certain. But it is necessary and it is freeing and it is beautiful.
Alright friends, it’s that time of year again. I’ve been on somewhat of a hiatus from blogging regularly on account of writing songs for a full-length record, but I felt the need to pop my head in for a TOP TEN ALBUMS post. Without further ado, here they are:
Now, I realize it’s a bit unfair to pull a quote from a sermon devoid of its context, and I wish I could post the whole video for you to watch. Suffice it to say, I was left uneasy by what Mark had to say. The uneasiness came because I imagined all of the nonbelievers who inevitably watched this video and concluded that God must not want anything to do with them. After all, who in their right mind would desire to draw near to a God who “personally” and “objectively” hates them? If anyone was motivated to repent and change on account of Driscoll’s words, I fear that it was likely due to an overwhelming sense of guilt and a failure to “measure up” to the unattainable standard of holiness demanded by God which is ultimately only made possible by the power of the blood of Jesus. In Romans, we’re told that it’s the kindness of God that leads us to repentance (2:4).
That said, I think there’s something to be learned from all of this. We need to think very hard and very carefully before we throw stones at someone’s decisions relating to ministry and following Christ. Yes, truth and orthodoxy are worth defending. The Bible and the Church fathers and mothers who have gone before us provide us with a firm foundation of truth that we can firmly set our feet upon. But there is a right way to go about defense and debate, and I think we’ve witnessed plenty of the wrong way. There have been personal attacks and slights at Rob’s character that remind me far too much of American politics. It’s so discouraging.
