The Idolatry of Spiritual Laziness

Jared Wilson

Let’s talk about laziness. Laziness is idolatry. It is closely related to its opposite—workaholism. Both the sins of laziness and workaholism are sins of self-worship. The behavior looks different, but the root idolatry is the same. And the problem we face is that the law cannot do for either of these sins what grace does. There is no saving power in law. Further—and this is the crucial point in this particular discussion—there is no sustainable keeping of the law apart from the compulsion of grace. We can (and should) command repentance from sin, but it is grace that enables repentance and belief that accompanies it. Repentance problems are always belief problems. When we are set free from the law’s curse, we are set free to the law’s blessings. The difference-maker is the gospel and the joyful worship it creates. Any other attempt at law-abiding is just behavior management.

So we cannot cure spiritual laziness by pouring law on it. God turns dry bones into living, breathing, worshiping, working bodies by pouring gospel proclamation into them. When we truly behold the gospel, we can’t help but grow in Christ and with the fruit of the Spirit. Paul captures the essence of this truth in 2nd Corinthians 3:15-18:

Yes, to this day whenever Moses is read a veil lies over their hearts. But when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.

The law cannot lift the veil. It cannot supply what it demands. But when, by the power of the Spirit, we turn to behold the Lord—not just see Him, but behold Him—the veil is lifted and we are transformed bit by bit, so long as we are beholding. This is not self-generated. It comes, Paul says, “from the Lord who is the Spirit.” Vicky Beeching’s song “Captivated” captures this truth well with these lyrics:

Beholding is becoming, so as You fill my view
Transform me into the likeness of You.

According to 2nd Corinthians 3:15-18, beholding is becoming. See how Psalm 119:18 relates “beholding as becoming” to obedience: “Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law.”

What must happen for a lazy person to be able to become diligent? He must behold the wondrous things in God’s law. Does he just decide to do that? No. Okay, well, yes…sort of. But he must be moved to decide to be diligent from a force outside of himself. His eyes must be opened by the Spirit. And in this opening, the law and his keeping of it become wondrous, not tedious. This is really what we’re aiming for with gospel centrality, and it’s what gospel wakefulness [super]naturally produces: obedience to God as worshipful response, not meritorious leverage. We are fixing our eyes on the finished work of Christ, so that we may be free, and therefore free to delight in the law, not buckle under it.

Religious people can’t delight in the law like the psalmists do. They have to be set free—and feel free—from its curse first. This is where accusing gospel centrality of facilitating antinomianism becomes nonsensical. Generally speaking, people aren’t lazy because they think they’re forgiven for trespassing the law; they’re lazy because they think the law doesn’t apply to them. The truth is that we worship our way into sin, and we have to worship our way out. When people are lazy (or restless), they do have a sin problem, but the sin problem is just a symptom of the deeper worship problem. Their affections are set somewhere else. And wherever our affections are set is where our behavior will go.

So gospel wakefulness does not mean or produce laziness. But what gospel wakefulness does to the work of obedience is something we cannot muster up of our own power. It is the difference between driving our car and pushing it. Or, better, it is the difference between seeing the Christian life as a rowboat and seeing it as a sailboat.

Posted at: https://servantsofgrace.org/the-idolatry-of-spiritual-laziness/

Burn Your Boats: A Warning About FOMO

Article by Aimee Joseph

Columba was a sixth-century abbot who left his native Ireland with 12 men to bring the good news to the Picts, a pagan people in Scotland. The missionaries founded an abbey on Iona, which would become a vibrant center of literacy and faith for centuries to come.

But shortly after reaching Scotland in an animal-hide-wrapped wicker boat, Columba did something drastic. He knew he and his companions might be tempted to leave when life became uncomfortable or dangerous. And so, the story goes, Columba burned the boat.

After reading about this single-minded commitment, I’ve began noticing how, by contrast, I like to keep my options open, just in case.

One of the hallmarks of my generation is an aversion to commitment. We suffer perpetual FOMO (fear of missing out) and, more seriously, struggle to commit to a marriage or a career. In a world full of potential paths, we have a hard time picking one and remaining on it.

Let Me First Bury My Dad

But while the fear of commitment is trendy, it’s nothing new. Jesus himself engaged would-be disciples with similar struggles:

He said, “Follow me.” But [the man] said, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” . . . Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” (Luke 9:59, 61).

While these requests may sound understandable, it’s helpful to know that the first man’s father may not have been dead—or even close to dead. In the culture of the day, “Let me bury my father” was often used in an idiomatic way to express, “Let me get my family and personal life in order.” Put in 21st-century terms, it might sound something like, “I’m interested in following Jesus more seriously, but first I want to find a spouse and get some traction in my career.”

One of the most common phrases I hear from would-be disciples on college campuses carries a hint of that first-century hesitation: “When I have children of my own, I’ll make Christianity a bigger part of my life.”

When called to Christ, we sometimes want to hedge our bets, to buy ourselves a little more time. But such responses—even when expressed warmly and kindly—reveal a heart not captured by the wonder that the God of the universe is personally inviting us to himself.

Don’t Look Back

Both men in Luke 9 have a desire to follow but a reluctance to commit. Jesus’s respective responses bear particular poignancy in our FOMO culture:

Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God. (Luke 9:60)

No one who puts his hands to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God. (Luke 9:62)

Jesus didn’t mince words, nor did he lessen the cost of discipleship. He didn’t lower the bar or paint a rosy picture of a life spent following and proclaiming him. He didn’t alter the truth to expand his audience or make a hard pill more palatable to swallow.

Jesus was in the business of full disclosure. But he also knew the sweetness and rewards of a life centered on him would far exceed the inconvenience and discomfort.

In essence, when we decide to follow Jesus, we must burn—and keep burning!—the boat. Tensions and temptations will meet us on this path. We’ll be tempted to look back, and turn back, to an easier way of life. But from the outset, Jesus summons us to commit to him.

Burn the Boats

Columba and his crew had to burn the vessels that might have tempted them to escape back to the familiarity of kin and country. Likewise, each new disciple of Christ has a boat (or fleet of boats) that might lead back to a life more lucrative, more culturally celebrated, or simply more comfortable.

For some, a former relationship that trumped Christ is the boat that beckons backward. For others, the approval of unbelieving family continually whispers, Don’t be a religious fanatic. Loosen your grip on Christ, just a bit. Often in our money-minded culture, the boats that demand burning would drift us back to a more padded retirement fund or some financial frivolity.

Whatever their shape or style, any boats that lead us away from following Christ must be burned as often as they’re built. While this sounds overwhelming and almost impossible, remember that the One who asks for a commitment to himself, his Word, and his ways has also fully committed himself to us.

Committed to Us

Before we were born, before time was wound, the Son of God was committed. He knew he would leave it all so we could have it all in him. Even now, he gives us his Spirit to work within us, coaching, convicting, and comforting.

When we have Christ, we have not missed out on anything. We have gained everything.

By his grace and his power, may we burn the boats that might take us back to a comfortable and cross-less life. May we fix our eyes on him who has gone before us (Heb. 12:1–2). And may we find courage in his constant commitment to us: “Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20).

Related:

• Why Christmas Is the Antidote to FOMO (Sam Allberry)

Aimee Joseph works alongside her husband, G’Joe, who directs Campus Outreach San Diego. They love watching college students brought from lost to leaders through Christ in the church for the world. Parenting three little boys keeps her busy; writing on her blogand studying the Word keep her sane. She has a passion to see women trained to love God and his Word.

Posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/burn-boats-warning-fomo/

Adulting Is God’s Will for You

Article by Shar Walker

It only takes a few likes and shares for a word to become a brand-new hashtag, accompanied by memes, T-shirts, and paraphernalia. I noticed this with the word “adulting.”

“Adulting”—a verb form of “adult”—typically refers to a person (usually a millennial) doing an action (often mundane) that an adult would do. For instance, someone might say, “Paid my bills on time; I’ve done my adulting for the day.” This is my generation’s way of acknowledging, and sometimes making fun of, our entry into adulthood.

“Adulting” jokes expose the pulse of my generation. While most of the comments are of course in jest, at the sentiment’s heart seems to be a sluggishness to grow up, to take responsibility, and to do things we don’t want to do.

God’s Word directs Christians to a higher calling. Here are four biblical pursuits that speak to our generational fear of adulting.

1. Pursue Self-Control

When adulting is a choice, you can put it on or take it off at will. When I feel like paying my bills, I’ll pay them. When I feel like getting a steady job, I’ll start applying.

It’s all too easy to lack motivation in our everyday lives, leading us to neglect tasks that are important but not urgent. But the biblical virtue of self-control summons us to greater responsibility. Self-control isn’t just abstaining from bad thoughts or actions, but also pursuing what is good—even if it’s hard or not exhilarating.

The Bible frequently exhorts us to practice self-control in our words and in our works (Prov. 16:32; 18:21; 2 Pet. 1:5–9). The two offices in the local church—elder and deacon—require self-control (1 Tim. 3:2; Titus 1:8). All of us are to be fervent in spirit, not lacking zeal (Rom. 12:11).

Unlike optional adulting, self-control calls us to be faithful in the tasks of life we may not want to do, but are still responsible to perform.

2. Pursue Hard Work

In Genesis 2:15, the Lord places Adam in the garden to “work it and keep it.” Adam is to tend and care for his home. For all of us, work is a daily task.

Even though work has been cursed, it’s not a curse.

Of course, sin’s curse spoiled everything, including the ground, rendering work toilsome (Gen. 3:17–19; Ecc. 2:17). Because of the fall, our work is now often frustrating. But even though work has been cursed, it’s not a curse. Work existed before the fall, and it will be fully redeemed at Christ’s return.

While often burdensome, work is from God’s hand and ought to be done for God’s glory (Ecc. 2:24; 3:12; 3:22; 5:18–20). As we remember this purpose, we mustn’t assume we can hastily microwave our work, coasting by in sluggish apathy. As we labor in a fallen world, we are to do so with zeal and motivation (Prov. 19:24), with care in small tasks (Prov. 24:30–34), with humility (Prov. 26:16), with diligence (Prov. 13:4; Gal 6:9), and with vigilance (Eph. 5:15–16).

So let’s not despise our normal, everyday responsibilities—those unglamorous tasks we think of as “adulting.” Though we may desire to do great things for the Lord, it’s easy to forget that the greatest work has already been finished for us at the cross, and that God wants to be faithful where he’s intentionally placed us.

The greatest work has already been finished for us at the cross.

Each day, no matter how mundane, is an opportunity to experience the Lord’s renewed mercies (Lam. 3:22).

3. Pursue Discipleship

Discipleship involves sharing our lives with one another. As Paul tells the believers in Thessalonica, “We were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves” (1 Thess. 2:8).

I recently picked up The New York Times bestseller Adulting: How to Become a Grown-Up in 468 Easy(ish) Steps, written by 28-year-old Kelly Williams Brown. Some of the steps to becoming a grown-up include: buying bulk toilet paper, doing weekly cleaning, being aware of current events, and not wearing wrinkled clothes.

But the beauty of gospel discipleship is that we have far greater resources than a book of tips to teach us how to live. In the church, those who are younger learn from older saints (and vice versa) how to honor God with our lives. God has given us a precious resource for adulting: gospel community shaped by his Word.

4. Pursue Wisdom

In a society that fights against the inevitability of aging, the Bible champions wisdom that comes from years of faithfulness to God.

When I talk to godly older saints, their words drip with the wisdom and understanding that only come from decades of walking with the living God (Job 12:12; Prov. 16:31). And while their bodies waste away, their inner self is clearly being renewed each day (2 Cor. 4:16). This is wisdom worth pursuing.

In God’s kindness, he gives both his Word and also the fellowship of his saints equip us to “adult” well. Even on days when we feel we just can’t.

May we heed the warning to not be content with childish ways, and may we seek the wisdom that allows us to discern good from evil, and what’s good from what’s best (Heb. 5:11–14).

Shar Walker lives in Lynchburg, Virginia, with her husband, Paul, and works on staff with Campus Outreach Lynchburg as the regional women’s director. he is a contributing author in Joyfully Spreading the Word: Sharing the Good News of Jesus (Crossway/TGC, 2018).

Article posted at:  https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/adulting-gods-will/

Lay Aside the Weight of "Not Feeling Like It"

Article by Jon Bloom

What do you not feel like doing today?

You know what I mean. It’s that thing that’s weighing on you, which you know would honor God because it obeys his law of love (John 15:12), or is a work of faith (2 Thessalonians 1:11), or puts “to death the deeds of the body” (Romans 8:13). You know it would be good for your soul or body or family or vocation or neighbor or church.

But you don’t feel like doing it. You know that God promises you more blessing if you do it than if you don’t. But you’re struggling to believe it because it feels difficult. It’s like you have weights on your ankles. You don’t want to muster the energy, and every distraction glows with attraction.

The Strange Pattern of Progress

While it’s true that this is our indwelling sin of which we must repent and fight to lay aside (Hebrews 12:1), the experience of “not feeling like it” can become a reminder of a gospel truth and give us hope and encouragement in this battle.

“If we want true joy, we must walk by faith in a promised future and not by the sight of immediate gratification.”

Think about this strange pattern that occurs over and over in just about every area of life:

• Healthy, nutritious food often requires discipline to prepare and eat while junk food is convenient, tasty, and addictive.

• Keeping the body healthy and strong requires frequent deliberate discomfort while it only takes constant comfort to go to pot.

• You have to make yourself pick up that nourishing but intellectually challenging book while popping in a DVD is as easy and inviting as coasting downhill.

• You frequently have to force yourself to get to devotions and prayer while sleeping in or reading the sports or checking Facebook is almost effortless.

• Learning to skillfully play beautiful music requires thousands of hours of tedious practice.

• Excelling in sports requires monotonous drills ad nauseum.

• Learning to write well requires writing, writing, writing, and rewriting, rewriting, rewriting. And usually voluminous reading.

• It takes years and years of schooling just to make certain vocational opportunities possible.

You get the idea. The pattern is this: the greater joys are obtained through struggle and difficulty and pain, while brief, unsatisfying, and often destructive joys are right at our fingertips. Why?

Why the Struggle and Difficulty and Pain?

Because God, in great mercy, is showing us everywhere, in things that are just shadows of heavenly realities, that there is a great reward for those who struggle through and persevere (Hebrews 10:32–35). He is reminding us almost everywhere to walk by faith in a promised future and not by the sight of immediate gratification (2 Corinthians 5:7).

“Greater joys come through struggle and difficulty, while brief and often destructive joys sit at our fingertips.”

Each struggle becomes an invitation by God to follow in the faithful footsteps of his Son, “who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2).

Those who are spiritually blind only see futility in these struggles. But for those who have eyes to see, God has woven hope — faith in his future grace — right into the futility of creation (Romans 8:20–21). Each struggle becomes a pointer saying, “Look ahead, past the struggle itself, past the temptation of the puny, vapor joys to the great, sustained, substantial Joy set before you!”

Endurance, Not Indulgence

So today, don’t let “not feeling like it” reign as lord (Romans 6:12). Rather, through it see your Father pointing you to the reward he has planned for all who endure to the end (Matthew 24:13). Let it remind you that his call is not to indulgence but endurance.

Then lay this weight aside and run with faith the race he has set before you.

This light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:17–18)

Jon Bloom (@Bloom_Jon) serves as author, board chair, and co-founder of Desiring God. He is author of three books, Not by Sight, Things Not Seen, and Don’t Follow Your Heart. He and his wife live in the Twin Cities with their five children.

Article posted at:  https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/lay-aside-the-weight-of-not-feeling-like-it