5 Loopholes We Use to Excuse Sin

Will Anderson

When it comes to owning sin, humans can be fiercely stubborn. We come up with all sorts of excuses to downplay sin and avoid true repentance.

It’s easy to mouth the words of an apology, to others or God, while feeling out possible loopholes that leave room for future indulgence. We’re spiritual Houdinis, contorting and twisting our way out of true repentance. We’re actors who specialize in scenes of contrition, whose apologetic masquerades are little more than roles we play to get off the hook.

The Puritan Richard Sibbes, in The Bruised Reed, summarizes our resistance well: “It is a very hard thing to bring a dull and evasive heart to cry with feeling for mercy. Our hearts, like criminals, until they be beaten from all evasions, never cry for the mercy of the judge.”

For some of us, our cry for God’s mercy is long overdue, but our evasions keep us from real repentance. Here are five common loopholes we use to excuse sin.

1. Momentary Mourning

When it comes to repentance, the ups and downs of emotions fail us. Now, emotions are God-ordained and can be a genuine symptom of deep, lasting repentance. As we come to the cross in confession and find grace there, tears are often inescapable.

But emotions don’t always tell the truth. They can become another loophole, a way of looking sorry on the surface while we internally avoid the painful purging of idols God desires. As Jeremiah wrote, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” (Jer. 17:9).

The craftiness of the human heart creates a dangerous concoction of half-hearted remorse, using external repentance to mask inward apathy. It’s a strategy of self-deception: If we convince ourselves we’re repentant, the guilt we feel loses its sting.

It’s not that we’re totally without remorse—our hearts may be heavy in the moment. But when the sun of temptation rises again, our sorrow quickly evaporates in the blaze of indulgence.

Are our tears a vain attempt to mediate our own atonement, or do we embrace the cross of Christ in all its sin-crushing, affection-stirring wonder? May our tears flow from God’s endless fountain of grace, not from the streams of our fickle emotion and fleeting repentance.

2. The Percentage Plea

Sometimes we pit our righteous deeds against our sinful deeds. We draw up a spiritual pie chart to prove how our obedience far outweighs the tiny sliver of sin in our lives. We crunch the numbers, convinced they’re in our favor. If we get most things right, God will surely excuse the few things we get wrong.

The deception is twofold.

First, it overestimates human righteousness, anchoring it in what we do rather than in what Christ has done. In Romans 3:9–20, Paul makes clear the impossibility of building any case of innocence based on our works. Elsewhere he says our salvation is not something to earn but to receive (Eph. 2:8–9).

Second, it underestimates the corrosive nature of sin. It’s hazardous to assume the sliver of darkness in our lives can exist cozily alongside the light (in reality it’s probably more than a sliver anyway).

In Scripture, sin is never portrayed in neutral terms, as if it can be fenced in. Instead it’s pictured as yeast that grows steadily through dough (Gal. 5:9; 1 Cor. 5:6–7). Its appetite is insatiable. When we downplay its presence, sin’s growth is guaranteed.

Sin’s appetite is insatiable. When we downplay its presence, sin’s growth is guaranteed.

3. Institutional Cynicism

Ours is an age of institutional suspicion. No one wants to be told how to live. Autonomy is king and authority is foe. Any mandate to holiness is dismissed as yet another instance of the institutional church’s legalism.

The hypocrisy of “holier than thou” religious authorities—who are often exposed in the same sins they decry—thus becomes an excuse for individuals to treat their own sin lightly, allowing the church’s flaws to become a loophole for excusing their own.

Does our disdain for evangelical “holiness” jargon cripple our commitment to growing in Christlikeness? Is our eye-rolling at self-righteous believers a self-justifying strategy for holding on to sin?

As always, Jesus shows the way. He verbally skewered the legalists of his day (Matt. 23)—while taking holiness seriously. He refused to be manipulated by the judgmental and superficial Pharisaicalism of his day—while also proclaiming: “Go and sin no more” (John 8:11). He rescued the law from the abusive hands wielding it—while calling his disciples to follow its intent according to his Father’s heart (Matt. 5:17–20).

We must do the same.

4. Hiding in the Herd

Human community can be both a gift for our growth and an inhibition to it. Like Adam and Eve as they ate from the tree, there’s a herd mentality in all of us—a tendency to be influenced, led, and shaped by each other in destructive ways.

Community can be insular and bias-confirming, when we defend everything in our camp and judge those in other camps. Whatever is common becomes comfortable, normalized, justifiable. Evangelicals are not immune to this problem. We can easily fall into categories of “us versus them,” or Christians vs. the culture, blinded to how we’ve simply Christianized the same secular practices we claim to detest.

As we benefit from the beauty and life of Christian community, let’s also check the motives, habits, and presuppositions of our tribe. This is hard and courageous work, but in the end the status quo of evangelicalism is not always the way of Jesus.

Is community our crutch, a way to excuse sin because we’re “not the only ones”? Are we afraid to stand out and content to blend in, even when we sense we’re being disobedient?

As we benefit from the beauty and life of Christian community, let’s also check the motives, habits, and presuppositions of our tribe.

5. The Giftedness Game

A mentor once shared that his greatest moments of temptation come on the heels of success. As a gifted pastor and communicator, he recognizes in the aftermath of a great sermon, with the affirmation of his people ringing in his ears, he sometimes feels entitled to reward himself in sinful ways.

My mentor’s honesty is instructive for us all. Are we quietly convinced God cares more about giftedness than character? Do we imagine our “indispensability” in God’s kingdom affords us special privileges to dabble in rebellion?

Our friends and colleagues may applaud our gifts. The world may admire our success. But God’s eyes are fixed on our hearts. What does he see?

We must not let our accomplishments outpace our character. Our résumés do not excuse our rebellion. By God’s grace, may our public obedience accurately reflect our private habits.  

We must not let our accomplishments outpace our character. Our résumés do not excuse our rebellion.

Look Back as You Move Forward

How do we stop the evasive maneuvers? What can we do to stop the cycle of seeking loopholes that excuse sin rather than truly owning it and turning from it?

We must daily rehearse the gospel to ourselves. We must saturate in the simple, profound truth of the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. And we must not limit the gospel to something Jesus did in the past, but as something Jesus is also doing in our present. It’s not just Christ alone for salvation, but also Christ alone for transformation.

In his book Center Church, Tim Keller writes:

The gospel is not just the ABCs but the A to Z of the Christian life. It is inaccurate to think the gospel is what saves non-Christians, and then Christians mature by trying hard to live according to biblical principles. It is more accurate to say that we are saved by believing the gospel, and then we are transformed in every part of our minds, hearts, and lives by believing the gospel more and more deeply as life goes on.

The more we absorb the gospel, the less necessary each loophole becomes. In Christ, we don’t have to manufacture remorse for sin. Instead, Jesus’s sacrifice floods our hearts with affection for him. As we gaze at Calvary, it becomes impossible to trivialize our sin. Our good works are exposed as insufficient. Our cynicism is melted away. We’re freed from conformity to others. We come to see success not as license to sin, but as grace to undeserving rebels.

Our rebellion is indeed stubborn, but the love of Christ is more stubborn still. As we yield to the excavating work of the Spirit, saturated in the truth of the gospel, our loopholes will fall away.

Will Anderson (MA, Talbot School of Theology) is a pastor and writer who lives in Austin, Texas, with his wife, Emily.

Posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/5-loopholes-excuse-sin/

Find the Point of Entry

Stephen Kneale

We’re coming into that time of year when we are under attack. I don’t mean spiritually; Satan doesn’t particularly abide by the seasons. No, our house is currently under attack from ants. Every year, they find some way in. Through some crack in the wall or gap in a floorboard. Every day we hoover them up and, the next, come down to find them swarming in again.

As I was trying to remove the latest incursion, I was given some simple but effective advice. Find where they are coming in and focus preventative measures on the point of entry. I was able to follow a line of ants to a tiny gap near the front of our house. We have initially put down washing up liquid (they seem not to like it) which is keeping them at bay. This is tiding us over until we can get some ant powder to ensure they don’t keep coming back.

But sin seems to have a similarly persistent habit of encroaching on us. We may find ourselves falling into sin again and doing little more than the spiritual equivalent of hoovering up the ants. We sin, we repent, but the very next day, there it is back again. We think we have dealt with it, we think we have resolved the problem, but really we have only cleared up the mess left from the latest iteration. And so, unsurprisingly, it happens again, and again, and again. It’s not that we don’t want rid of it, it’s just that the only tool we ever reach for is one that deals with the problem after it has arisen.

Just like with our ant problem, we need to find the point of entry and enact some preventative measures. If we know we are prone to particular sins, its not much good simply clearing away as and when it happens. We might be repentant, and genuinely mean it, but its not going to do much in the long run to stop it happening again. And if we know we are prone to such sins, genuine repentance means more than just cleaning up after the fact but putting ourselves in a position, and putting things in place, to limit the possibility of it happening again.

In other words, we have to find the point of entry for the sins to which we are prone and lay the spiritual equivalent of ant powder to prevent it getting in. There comes a point at which, knowing we are tempted to certain besetting sins, we are dicing with death if we aren’t willing to inconvenience ourselves enough to stop falling into it. That is not to say you will necessarily never see that sin again – just as my laying ant powder doesn’t mean I will never see another ant inside my house – but it does make it that much less likely and evidences a desire to mortify it.

If Jesus can talk seriously about hands chopped off and eyes gouged out if they cause you to sin (cf. Matthew 5:29f), why should we be any less serious about it? If your internet connection causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. Better to lose your ISP than to enter Hell with your wifi password. It’s no good insisting that you need the internet (or even, your computer) for your work. The prostitutes who came to Jesus, no doubt, had similar concerns. If your ministry is causing you to sin, stand down and do something less visible. Better to end your ministry than to enter Hell with your pastor’s contract. It’s no good insisting your church will probably fall apart if you leave. No doubt the early church viewed the apostles as they were martyred similarly.

We are, by nature, self-justifying creatures. Any sin to which we are prone may come with excuses. The circumstances under which we repeatedly find ourselves falling can readily be justified as necessary. Yet a repentant heart would do what is practicable to inconvenience itself enough to minimise repeat occurrences. There comes a point at which, if we’re not willing to do so, we are proactively giving sin a foothold and evidencing a heart that is happy to indulge sin. And that, dear reader, is a treacherous path indeed.

We will all have besetting sin this side of glory. None of us will free ourselves from sin influence in this life. As such, we must find the points of entry and take preventative measures before we find ourselves infested. Some of that will be positively stepping into our time with the Lord, being honest with him in our prayers about our struggles, seeking to surround ourselves with those who will encourage us to press on in the church. But some of it might involve placing ourselves in positions where the sins to which we are prone will have a much harder time gaining entry. It may mean doing what some would consider drastic because we don’t want to dishonour the Lord.

If we’re frequently failing to honour the Lord in our existing circumstances, we have to ask whether we love the Lord more than we want the thing causing us to sin. A genuine love for the Lord will mean we want to honour and glorify him more than we want anything else. For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

Posted at: https://stephenkneale.com/2019/05/22/find-the-point-of-entry/

The Kingdom of God is for Sinners

by David McLemore

Jesus goes down by the sea and calls Levi, the tax collector, to follow him. Soon after, Jesus is sitting in Levi’s house, reclining at the table with his friends. The Pharisees want to know “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

Jesus’ answer is simple: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.” It’s a common-sense answer, a proverbial quote known far and wide: a doctor must go to the sick. What good is a doctor who never does? But, coming from the mouth of Jesus to the Pharisees in front of his new tax collector and sinner friends, the answer had a different slant. It posed a question even as it affirmed a truth. It was as if he was saying, “Do you understand your sickness? Do you understand the sickness of sin? Do you understand the illness of the soul? Do you understand that no good you’ve done or could ever do will remove the evil of sin from your heart? Do you understand my salvation?”

We are all diagnosed with a sickness unto death and the sinners and tax collectors he sat among saw it. They saw their sickness. So, they welcomed the Physician.

But the Pharisees didn’t. They were concerned with the optics of it all. How could a rabbi sit with those people? Jesus says he can because it’s the entire reason for his coming: to call not the righteous, but sinners. Reclining with the tax collectors and sinners, while it proved to be bad optics for his budding ministry, was the precise reason for his ministry. He was not there for those who had no need of him; He was there for those who had a great need for him.

So here’s the question we need to answer: Do we sense a personal need for Christ or do we think we’re doing fine? Do we need a Physician or can we heal ourselves?

The Bible makes it quite clear that no one is righteous, but there is a difference between affirming that biblical truth and feeling the need for a rescue. A religious person can recognize the evil inside while thinking better behavior will atone for it. But the one for whom Christ came recognizes that no good from within can atone for the sins of the heart. The Bible is screaming to us from Genesis 3 onward that we need a rescue. We need a Savior.

There are really only two types of people in this world, no matter the religion. There are those who know their need for a savior and those who see no need for one. The kingdom of God exposes both.

We see the difference in this narrative. There are two sets of people: we have Levi and his buddies on the one side and the Pharisees on the other.

What do we know of Levi? We know from other parts of the Bible that he’s also called Matthew, the author of the gospel. We also know from this passage that he was a tax collector. Tax collectors in that day were seen as unclean people. Many of them were Jews, and to get the job, they bid the amount of tax revenue they could take in to the Roman government. The open jobs went to the highest bidder. Some taxes were fixed and you couldn’t charge more than the going rate, but others had looser definitions. Tax collectors would take advantage, collecting their quota and pocketing the excess. They were traitors to the Jewish people they extorted.

The Pharisees would have nothing to do with such men. They avoided fellowshipping with such people to maintain their ritual purity and they considered reclining with those unversed in the Law, such as these “sinners,” to be a disgrace. But Jesus didn’t seem to mind. Apparently, they were the ones for whom he came. The Pharisees didn’t like that. They are the bad guys in this story, no doubt.

But is there not a Pharisee in us all?

Somewhere, deep in our heart, there is a prejudice against others. Yes, the Pharisees didn’t associate with sinners and tax collectors, but the sinners and tax collectors didn’t associate with them, either. They were of separate worlds, and that was fine with each side. In every one of us, there is a world in which we live and world in which “those people” live, isn’t there? And if “those people” were to come in this room right now, their presence would make us uncomfortable.

In God’s kingdom, there isn't "us" and "them." There’s just us and Jesus, and we have to deal with the mercy he’s shown to all. Notice Mark says the disciples were with Jesus in Levi’s house. I wonder what they thought about Levi when Jesus called him? I wonder what they thought about entering his house with all those tax collectors? Remember, the first disciples of Jesus were fishermen. They worked hard to make a living. Remember, too, that it was beside the sea working in his booth that Jesus called Levi. That must have taken the disciples back to their fishing days when they would come to shore, and a man like Levi—maybe even Levi himself—sat in his booth, taxing the fish they caught. And now here is this man among them—one who, if he himself had not extorted them, his certainly friends had. What would they do with this? What kind of rabbi is this Jesus?

Well, it turns out, he’s the kind that saves sinners. What we see in the calling of Levi is Jesus’ continued call of the unclean, unwanted, even despised people into his kingdom. Levi was not a man any other rabbi would have wanted. The Pharisees didn’t, but Jesus did! So he went and got him.

In response, Levi invited Jesus home for dinner. When you realize Jesus doesn’t just tolerate you but wants you, it changes everything. For a man cast outside the religious circles of his day, a rabbi who wanted him to follow him was unthinkable. When Jesus came along, Levi couldn’t help but invite him among his friends and Jesus wasn’t above attending.

Years later, another sinner, this time a Pharisee, would also understand Jesus. In speaking to his disciple, Timothy, the apostle Paul said that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom—notice this personal pronoun—“of whom I am the foremost.” Charles Spurgeon notes that between that word "saves" and that word "sinners," there is no adjective. It matters not that you are a tax collecting sinner or a murderous sinner or an obedient-to-tradition sinner. All that matters is that sinners are in the world and you are among them. That’s what Jesus is saying! He came for the sick; are you sick enough for Jesus?

We do not need simply better behavior; we need a rescue. We need a Savior. We need one who will dine with sinners and befriend them and that’s who we have in Jesus.

We have two options before us: we can stand at the door questioning Jesus’ methods or we can join his party raging inside. We can be like the elder boy in the parable of the prodigal son, angry that we’ve always obeyed but never received, or we can be the prodigal enjoying the welcome home. Jesus is saying, “Your brother has come. It’s fitting to celebrate and be glad. The dead are alive! The lost are found! Come, join the party.” Jesus came not to call the righteous, but sinners.

Are you sick enough for the Good Doctor, Jesus? If so, rejoice! The kingdom of God is at hand, and it’s coming for you!

Editor's Note: This post originally appeared at David's blog, Things of the Sort, and is used with permission.

David McLemore

David McLemore is part of the church planting team at Refuge Church in Franklin, Tennessee. He is married to Sarah, and they have three sons.

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/the-kingdom-of-god-is-for-sinners

It Was Your Sin that Murdered Christ!

By Tim Challies

Sometimes it does us good to consider the sheer sinfulness of our sin. Sometimes it does us good to consider what our sin has cost. Perhaps these words from Isaac Ambrose will challenge you as they did me.

When I but think of those bleeding veins, bruised shoulders, scourged sides, furrowed back, harrowed temples, nailed hands and feet, and then consider that my sins were the cause of all, methinks I should need no more arguments for self-abhorring!

Christians, would not your hearts rise against him that should kill your father, mother, brother, wife, husband,—dearest relations in all the world? Oh, then, how should your hearts and souls rise against sin! Surely your sin it was that murdered Christ, that killed him, who is instead of all relations, who is a thousand, thousand times dearer to you than father, mother, husband, child, or whomsoever. One thought of this should, methinks, be enough to make you say, as Job did, ‘I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.

Oh, what is that cross on the back of Christ? My sins. Oh, what is that thorny crown on the head of Christ? My sins. Oh, what is the nail in the right hand and that other in the left hand of Christ? My sins. Oh, what is that spear in the side of Christ? My sins. What are those nails and wounds in the feet of Christ? My sins. With a spiritual eye I see no other engine tormenting Christ, no other Pilate, Herod, Annas, Caiaphas, condemning Christ, no other soldiers, officers, Jews or Gentiles doing execution on Christ, but only sin. Oh, my sins, my sins, my sins!”

These words from Joseph Hart seem fitting:

Many woes had Christ endured,
Many sore temptations met,
Patient, and to pains inured:
But the sorest trial yet
Was to be sustain’d in thee,
Gloomy, sad Gethsemane !

Came at length the dreadful night:
Vengeance, with its iron rod,
Stood, and with collected might
Bruised the harmless Lamb of God:
See, my soul, thy Saviour see
Prostrate in Gethsemane !

There my God bore all my guilt:
This, through grace, can be believed;
But the horrors which he felt
Are too vast to be conceived:
None can penetrate through thee,
Doleful, dark Gethsemane !

Sins against a holy God,
Sins against his righteous laws,
Sins against his love, his blood,
Sins against his name and cause,—
Sins immense as is the seal
Hide me, O Gethsemane !

Here’s my claim, and here alone;
None a Saviour more can need :
Deeds of righteousness I’ve none;
No,-not one good work to plead:
Not a glimpse of hope for me,
Only in Gethsemane.

Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
One almighty God of love,
Hymn’d by all the heavenly host
In thy shining courts above,
We adore thee, gracious Three,—
Bless thee for Gethsemane.

posted at: https://www.challies.com/quotes/it-was-your-sin-that-murdered-christ/

Killing Sin by the Spirit

By Steve DeWitt

For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” (Romans 8:13 ESV)

The key phrase here is, “put to death the deeds of the body.” The Greek word for put to death is used 11 times in the New Testament, 9 for actually killing people.[1] One example is Stephen, the first martyr, who was put to death. Same word. This is not a nice word. This is a bloody word. A word of execution. It simply means, kill it. Legalism says, stop it. Romans says, kill it. This requires a posture toward sin that is much more like an assassin. Ruthless. Cold, hard hatred of sin.

Jesus said the same when he said, “if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off.” (Matthew 5:30) It is not physical dismemberment, but a spiritual dismemberment that sees sin as leading to death. It is an abuse of grace that makes us OK with sin thinking, I’m going to heaven anyway. That is an incredibly dangerous posture toward sin and calls into question if we truly understand Jesus shedding his blood for that sin.

We should think of sin like cancer patients think of their cancer. The fighter-types hate cancer. What if you talked with someone after a bout of cancer and they said,

I miss my cancer. Oh, I remember when I had lots of cancer. Such freedom I felt. Those were the days. Wow, the cancer parties were incredible! Many of my entertainment choices celebrate cancer. I remember driving for my chemo treatments—those were great days. If only I could have another chemo day. Cancer made me so happy.

When you talk with cancer patients, they’ll tell you the only way to beat cancer is to declare war on your cancer. When you see a bald woman wearing a wig, or a scarf on her head, respect her; she went to war. You must kill those cancer cells. How many of them? All of them. You hate it. You are willing to deal ruthlessly with it. Change your diet. Change your lifestyle. Stop your smoking. Whatever. You will shoot chemicals and radiation in your body to kill cancer. The courage in those cancer wards comes from people who don’t want to die, they want to live!

Romans 8:13 says, hate your sin. Hate it. See it as creating death in you. Don’t coddle it. Don’t ignore it. Go to war with your sin. You can’t defeat cancer by loving cancer and you can’t overcome sin and temptation by loving your sin. There is an old word that describes going to war and killing sin. Mortify it. When you see that word, it means, kill zone. DEFCON 1. Going nuclear. Annihilation. Is this the posture of your heart toward your sin?

Scripture quotations are taken from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Permanent Text Edition® (2016). Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

© 2019 by Steve DeWitt. You are permitted and encouraged to reproduce and distribute this material in any format provided that: (1) you credit the author, (2) any modifications are clearly marked, (3) you do not charge a fee beyond the cost of reproduction, (4) you include Bethel’s website address (www.bethelweb.org) on the copied resource.

Posted at: https://stevedewitt.org/2019/03/10/killing-sin-by-the-spirit/

Cut Off Your Hand: How Far Will You Go to Save Your Soul?

Article by Jon Bloom

Losing a sense of God’s holiness is the first warning sign of entering a spiritually dangerous place.

Externally, everything might look fine: Our families might be well, our ministries might be flourishing, we might be receiving recognition and walking powerfully in our spiritual gifts. But inwardly, we’re wandering.

External phenomena do not reliably indicate our spiritual health. Families and ministries can struggle and go wrong for reasons that have nothing to do with our spiritual states. And history is full of examples of men and women who exercised spiritual gifts with great power for a period of time — even when involved in gross secret sin. Besides that, externals are usually lagging indicators of spiritual decline. By the time our decline starts surfacing, it often has reached a serious state.

What to Watch

The thing to watch is our sense of God’s holiness.

“The loss of the sense of God’s holiness always produces the loss of the sense of sin’s sinfulness.”

I don’t mean our doctrinal knowledge of God’s holiness. That’s something we might affirm and even teach when secretly we are in a place of decline. The doctrine of God’s holiness is real to us only when we have real fear of God. And one clear evidence of this is our fear of sin. The loss of the sense of God’s holiness always produces the loss of the sense of sin’s sinfulness. When God is not feared, sin is not feared.

A tolerance of habitual indulgence of sin — a lack of fear over what slavery to sin might imply (John 8:34) — is an indictor that the fear of God is not governing us. And when we are in such a state, Jesus tells us what we need to do: cut off our hand.

Absolutely Terrifying Reality

Matthew 18 is a sober read. Jesus gets very serious about the extremely horrible consequences of sin. And he says this:

Woe to the world for temptations to sin! For it is necessary that temptations come, but woe to the one by whom the temptation comes! And if your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life crippled or lame than with two hands or two feet to be thrown into the eternal fire. And if your eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye than with two eyes to be thrown into the hell of fire. (Matthew 18:7–9)

Note the words eternal fire in verse eight. For most of the history of the church, some have asserted either some form of ultimate universal salvation for everyone or ultimate annihilation of the lost. But for the entire history of the church, the vast majority of Christians and the vast majority of the church’s most eminent and reliable theologians have affirmed that what Jesus and the apostles taught about hell is eternal, conscious punishment. Those three words describe an absolutely terrifying reality.

Metaphor, But No Hyperbole

I used the words “extremely horrible” and “absolutely terrifying” very carefully and intentionally. They are among the only fitting words we have to describe hell, the eternal death that is the wages of sin (Romans 6:23). No one wants to experience this. And it will be the reality experienced by everyone who is a slave to sin and not set free by the Son (John 8:36).

“If we don’t reverence God as holy in our private lives we are on a perilous path that leads to destruction.”

That is why Jesus uses the extreme metaphor of cutting off our hand and tearing out our eye. Extreme danger calls for extreme measures of escape. Yes, the mutilation imagery is a metaphor, but it is not hyperbole. We know it is a metaphor because the literal loss of a hand or an eye doesn’t get to the root issue of sin. But radical and painful amputation of stumbling blocks out of our lives may be the only way to escape falling headlong into sin’s insidiously deceptive snare.

We may need to “mutilate” — chop off — a habit, a relationship, a career, certain personal freedoms, whatever is causing us to stumble. Because far better that we enter life having lost those things than kept them and lose our souls (Luke 9:25).

Cut Off Every Hand

When we lose the sense of God’s holiness, Jesus’s warnings in Matthew 18land lightly on us. We reason that such a warning is for someone else. We don’t seriously think it applies to us. Nor do we seriously think it applies to other brothers and sisters who are characterized by worldly concerns and pursuits and are rather numb when it comes to sin.

We might take consolation that our affirmation of orthodox doctrine, external affirmations, and “fruitful” labors demonstrate we’re on the right path. But if in the secret place, we’re tolerating sin, tolerating relative prayerlessness, tolerating a lack of urgency over lost souls, it is an indicator that something is wrong. If we don’t reverence God as holy in our private lives, we are on a perilous path that leads to destruction (Matthew 7:13).

“A tolerance of habitual indulgence of sin is an indictor that the fear of God is not governing us.”

Jesus provides us the cure to this deadly infection: cut off every hand that is causing you to stumble. And he really means it. “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your heart” (Hebrews 4:7). Whether we have just ventured on to this road or been on it way too long, the time is nowto repent and take the extreme measure to amputate whatever is entangling our feet in sin (Hebrews 12:1). We must plead with the Lord and do whatever it takes to see the fear of the Lord restored in our hearts.

Choose Life

For the Christian, the fear of the Lord does not compete with our joy in the Lord. Rather, it’s a source of our joy in the Lord. Isaiah prophesied this about Jesus: “And his delight shall be in the fear of the Lord” (Isaiah 11:3). Jesus delighted in the fear of his Father, and God wants us to enjoy this delight too. Because “the fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, that one may turn away from the snares of death” (Proverbs 14:27). And “the friendship of the Lord is for those who fear him, and he makes known to them his covenant” (Psalm 25:14).

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10). Conversely, losing the fear of the Lord is the beginning of foolishness. The reward of such wisdom is eternal life (John 3:16) and fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11). The reward of such foolishness is absolutely terrifying.

When we notice a diminishing of our healthy fear of God, the loss of a sense of his holiness, that is the time to take action. Let us repent by cutting off every foolish hand and, as Deuteronomy 30:19 says, choose life.

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 have five children and make their home in the Twin Cities.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/cut-off-your-hand?fbclid=IwAR1imRst4w_BUYraBBq_tNkY9ZGiB6M78GQTEFS3K17hKgBHfKupWUjsW0Y

Recipe for Repentance

Article by Josh Squires

There are fewer deceptions that are more confounding than that of false repentance. When someone pretends to confess and turn away from sin, but in the depths of his heart means only to appease anger and escape consequences, it leaves in its wake an especially sensitive kind of confusion and pain.

“Do they really mean it?” is a question that I’m asked frequently. My response is that I do not know for sure, and I am vulnerable to deception. However, genuine repentance tends to be more like mountains on the horizon than a pit on the path — that is, it tends to be easily discernible and not something for which you have to be on the lookout. The more you feel like you have to go find it, the less likely it is authentic.

Why Do We Repent?

“My bad.” Those words got me out of more trouble as a young man than any other two-word combination I can imagine. Guys especially have a tendency to think that repentance almost solely consists of admitting a fault. Once the fault has been admitted, even if in the most lexically concise way possible, the assumption is that everyone should just get over it and move on.

However, when repentance is given the short shrift, so is the relationship that is supposed to be repaired. Our repenting of sin is the first step toward rebuilding trust with those whom our sin has harmed or affected. If we seem irritated or rash in our repentance, then the wound which that sin created can stay open and become infected with bitterness.

More than that, the reason that we prioritize repentance is because our Lord and Savior tells us to (1 John 1:9). The gospel is on full display when we repent. Its light shines forth for us as we perceive our moment-to-moment need of a gracious Savior, and it penetrates into the painful darkness of others as it illuminates the route to restoration grounded in the good news of a holy God. As Tertullian once said, “I was born for no other end but to repent.”

The famous seventeenth century pastor Thomas Watson wrote a treatise on repentance with six “ingredients” to show us what genuine repentance looks like.

1. Sight of Sin

By this, Watson means that we rightly perceive ourselves as sinners. How often have you heard the phrase, “I know I’m not perfect but . . . ” which in nearly every circumstance means, “when it comes to this, I’m perfect!” Genuine repentance starts with the understanding that we are desperate sinners whose sin touches nearly everything we do (Romans 3:10). It means that we should not be surprised when we find it necessary to repent, nor should that exercise undo us.

2. Sorrow over Sin

This ingredient is the element of lament for our sin as we see its effect on ourselves, on others, and on God. As David cries, “The sacrifices of God are . . . a broken and contrite heart” (Psalm 51:17). This is the element which is most easily observed and therefore most often counterfeited. As Watson observes some are sorrowful “not because sin is sinful, but because it is painful.”

3. Confession of Sin

Again Watson writes, “Sorrow is such a vehement passion that it must vent. It vents itself at the eyes by weeping and at the tongue by confession.” Confession should focus on oneself and one’s own sin. It should not look to mitigate, excuse, rationalize, or blame. Genuine repentance takes ownership of the pain that our sin has caused both in its particulars and generalities.

While preferred that confession is always voluntary on the part of the penitent, it is not uncommon for confession to flow from the fact that the Lord has graciously let us be caught in our sinful ways. However, if confession results only from the times that we are involuntarily caught in our sin, then this is no repentance at all.

I cannot count the number of philanders, gossips, addicts, and gamblers whose confessions became a serial event — always confessing to exactly what they’d been caught doing and no more. Our confessions, while they do not have to go into exacting detail, must not leave grand portions of our sin concealed.

4. Shame of Sin

“Blushing is the color of virtue,” says Watson. All sin makes us guilty, and that guilt is only removed at the cost of the blood of God himself, who voluntarily took on flesh and lived a perfect life never once ceding to temptation, though tempted by the prince of lies himself. He voluntarily clothed himself in that very sin and took on the wrath of God — hell itself! — at Calvary. If that does not make us ashamed when we sin, nothing will! May there be in our communities of faith more blushing and less boasting when it comes to sin (Ezra 9:6).

5. Hatred of Sin

“Christ is never loved till sin is loathed.” Genuine repentance reflects something of God’s wrath. God’s anger burns at sin, and for those who do not trust in Christ alone for salvation, they will experience this firsthand upon death. It is not just a historical anger but an eternal one.

When we get angry at our own sin, we are reflecting something of God’s holiness and purity to those around. This hatred of sin in oneself, when genuine, is never too far from the surface. It usually only takes a little agitation to yield significant expression. When someone’s anger is focused primarily on others’ sins and not his own, it’s typically a sign that repentance is a mere performance.

6. Turning from Sin

Repentance means little if it does not result in reformation. This is the ingredient of repentance that takes the longest and can be the most excruciating for all involved. Will you raise your voice again in anger? Will you look at something inappropriate when no one else is around? Will you talk again about someone else’s flaws just so you can feel accepted?

Scripture tells us that we must not only repent but that we must also actively turn from the sins we commit (Ezekiel 14:6). If we repent without a sincere desire to keep from engaging in that same sin in the future, then one or more of the ingredients above are missing. That said, if we turn from sin in our own strength, we will fail. We will lose both the motivation and the energy for the fight that the conflict against sin requires of us. Instead, if we turn not to our own efforts but to God, we will find ourselves more and more refreshed by his grace and have the catalyst to see sin beaten.

Repentance is a key part of the Christian life. It never feels good — and if it does, you’re doing it wrong — but it is necessary. It’s what reminds us of our need for grace while displaying our growth in grace to the world around.

Josh Squires (@RevJASquires) serves as pastor of counseling and congregational care at First Presbyterian Church in Columbia, South Carolina. He and his wife have five children.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/a-recipe-for-repentance

If They Fell, So Can You

How Sin Seduced the Strongest, Wisest, and Godliest

Article by Garrett Kell 

She sat across from me with fingers pressed into her forehead. “How did I get here?” she groaned.

Jackie had been a faithful wife for many years. Yet she found herself ensnared in a sinful pit with no way out. Her web of lies had become a suffocating trap. She never imagined she would go this far, and now she saw no way back.

“Whether we are a pastor or housewife, we are all in danger of being wooed, outwitted, and overpowered by sin.”

Sadly Jackie’s situation is not uncommon. Whether we are a pastor, president, or housewife, we are all in danger of being wooed, outwitted, and overpowered by sin. Yet we often do not feel the danger until it is too late. Sin is like a seductress who lures her unsuspecting prey with flattering assurances (Proverbs 5–7; Hebrews 3:13). Like a spider, she sets her trap and waits to pounce on those who play in her web.

But God does not desire us to be consumed. He warns us of sin’s schemes by recording the fall of others who were tempted as we are. Few examples are more sobering than those of Samson, Solomon, and David. They are tragic tales of strong, wise, and devoted men who were overcome by the power, trickery, and allure of sin.

Sin Is Stronger Than You

The life of Samson was marked by triumph and tragedy. Born to godly parents and empowered by God, he was set up to be a deliverer Israel desperately needed. Prior to Samson’s downfall, his supernatural strength was unmatched. No army or enemy was able to defeat him.

But sin could. Seduction weakened him to willingly surrender his secret source of strength (Judges 16:17). When his locks were clipped, he rose to fight, but “he did not know that the Lord had left him” (Judges 16:20). The spider had spun him up, and he was too weak to defend himself. His physical state mirrored his spiritual one. He was blind, broken, and crushed under the consequences of compromise.

Samson’s strength blinded him to his own weakness. The unseen enemy in his heart plotted mutiny — and Samson never saw it coming. As he fed his lust, he strengthened it. As he stoked his pride, he invigorated it. As he submitted to his flesh, it fortified against him. Apart from God’s strength, Samson didn’t have a chance.

What can we learn from Samson’s fall?

1. Sin feeds on power.

“Sin overpowered the strongest man. It can take you out, too.”

We are tempted to think that the more powerful we become, the better we will battle sin. But the exact opposite is true. The more power, influence, or prestige we possess, the more temptable we are. The strength of sin feeds on our sense of strength. This is why we are warned that “pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18). In weakness, we feel our need for God, but when we are strong, we lack that saving sobriety.

2. Sin flourishes in isolation.

Samson was almost always alone. He had no need for others. He had things under control. But his isolating pride set him up to be ambushed by the prowling lion. Isolation is the enemy of spiritual strength because it separates you from those God has provided to help you. We are not all strong at the same time. We need others to press us into the light of humility and honesty. Samson didn’t see a need for that kind of help — he was too strong.

Sin overpowered the strongest man, and it can take you out, too.

Sin Is Smarter Than You

Solomon’s reign began with love for God and his gift of unparalleled understanding. He wrote thousands of proverbs and authored inspired words of Scripture. But his heart had turned away to forbidden alliances, lovers, and idols (1 Kings 11:1–8).

Solomon had matchless wisdom, yet was outsmarted by sin’s schemes. The tempter sowed seeds of compromise that eventually sprouted and choked his discernment. He counseled others to lean not on their own understanding, yet he did not take his own counsel.

“Solomon had matchless wisdom, yet was outsmarted by sin’s schemes.”

His collection of forbidden horse chariots may have been well-intentioned, but they revealed a distrust in God’s care (Deuteronomy 17:16; 1 Kings 10:26). He made alliances with foreign kings that were sealed with wives who brought idols into his home (Deuteronomy 17:17; 1 Kings 3:1; 11:3). He thought he could keep the compromise under control (2 Chronicles 8:11), but eventually they outnumbered him a thousand to one. It seems Solomon thought he could work the system, but in the end he was eaten by it.

What can we learn from Solomon’s fall?

1. Sin wants you to trust your own wisdom.

Solomon knew what God said about multiplying wives and horses and riches. Yet he thought he was wise enough to handle it. This is part of sin’s scheme. The tempter assures you that you are wise enough to see when you are in trouble. He wants you to think you’re safe, even while indulging in sinful exploration (Ecclesiastes 1–2). You’ll be assured that you can keep things under control — after all, God is with you.

2. Sin wants you to underestimate small compromises.

The tempter has a crafty plan to patiently have you grow content with small compromises. “It’s just one look.” “A little won’t hurt.” “It’s not as bad as what they are doing.” If Satan cannot tempt you into a great sin, he will settle for a small one, because he knows that small sins pave the way to greater ones. Callousness grows in small degrees. Fear of God does not disappear all at once. You slowly become disillusioned with sin’s severity, and then you wind up with a thousand idol-worshiping housemates. Don’t assume something similar can’t happen to you.

Sin outwitted the wisest man, and it can outsmart you, too.

Sin Can Woo You

Few people have known the sweet fellowship David had with God. His delight in God marked the lines of his songs and the steps of his life. Whether in trial, trouble, or celebration, David’s heart was always oriented toward enjoying God.

“Temptation most often enters through a door intentionally left open.”

Yet even those who love God can be wooed away from him. We do not know why David stayed back from battle that spring afternoon. Yet as he strolled aimlessly on his palace roof, his unattended heart fell prey to forbidden beauty. Rather than flee, he lingered. A look, a longing, an inquiry, adultery, lies, conspiracy, murder, and attempted cover-up. David would repent and find forgiveness from God, but the consequences of his sin sent incalculable ripples throughout the kingdom (Psalm 51).

The hot coals of David’s heart for God had grown cold with complacency. He had been strong for so long, yet he hit cruise control. His affections for God diminished and the tempting beauty of sin ignited his flesh. He played roulette with sin, and the thrill quickly turned to devastating destruction.

What can we learn from David’s fall?

1. Sin has a deceptive beauty.

We must remember that Satan wears the disguise of an angel of light (2 Corinthians 11:14). He is a master at twisting good things God made and using their beauty to luring our hearts into forbidden waters. The power of sin is found in its presented beauty. The affirmation of adultery. The safety of a lie. The enjoyment of stolen treasure. Remember that the tempter lays before our eyes the beauty of the bait, but hides the hook that ensnares us.

2. Seek sin and you shall find it.

Temptation most often enters through a door intentionally left open. If you aimlessly wander in the wilderness near the tempter’s house, you can be certain you will get a visit from him. This is why we are warned to “make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires” (Romans 13:14).

Sin wooed the worshipful king, and it can woo you as well.

Jesus Is Stronger, Wiser, More Beautiful

God has given these examples to us that we might be instructed and warned to not fall into the same temptations (1 Corinthians 10:11–13). Yet we must not only avoid their example, but find help from the man who is greater than them.

“Jesus is stronger than Samson, wiser than Solomon, and more devoted than David — and in him, we find help.”

Our sinful weaknesses need not lead us to despair. Instead, they can lead us to hope in the one who is greater than our sin. Jesus bound the strong man to set us free (Matthew 12:29). Jesus outsmarted the tempter by clinging to the wisdom of the Scriptures (Matthew 4:1–11). Jesus rejected sinful exaltation by drinking the cup of humiliation (Matthew 26:39).

Jesus was tempted as we are, yet he endured without sin. His life was righteous and his death satisfied his Father’s just requirements. His resurrection gives us liberation, and his intercession grants us help in our weakness. Jesus is stronger than Samson, wiser than Solomon, and more devoted than David — and in him we find help to resist the tempter’s snares.

Garrett Kell (@pastorjgkell) is married to Carrie, and together they have five children. He serves as pastor of Del Ray Baptist Church in Alexandria, Virginia.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/if-they-fell-so-can-you?fbclid=IwAR1OV0YgbNXtFbOIfFO7JdHZ3XAXlDqOKdN4EJ7ZFMKxzNxYVDoTeZAfRBA

A Destructive Daily Habit

Article by Rush Witt

Living a just and holy life requires one to be capable of an objective and impartial evaluation of things. - St. Augustine (354–430)

There is a giant problem in East Africa: snails. Lissachatina fulica, giant African land snails, originated in Kenya and have traversed as far as Asia and the Caribbean. They can wreak major havoc. In fact, in the United States, it’s illegal to possess one of these little critters. Illegal!!

Though they seem weak compared to other wildlife (at their adult height, they are slightly taller than a tennis ball),[1] these African snails live long, reproduce quickly, and perpetrate their evil work under the cover of darkness. Creeping in unnoticed, they devastate crops, forests, coastal areas, and cities. They also carry an insidious disease that is deadly to humans. In vain, hunters have levied against them all manner of quarantine, chemical warfare, and predatory creatures. Even flamethrowers were no use.

Diehard snails! How can such a small creature cause such a widespread problem? It takes only a little time and a little neglect.

Diehard Sins

This post is about sins. Not the ugly, notorious sins we have come to know and hate. But the little, daily sins. The snail-sized sin habits that slither undetected in the shadows, beneath a fire-resistant shell, and eat up our lives from the inside out. This book is about the sins that nag us, resist our spiritual treatments, and persist beyond all our measures to contain them. The subtle sins. The respectable and acceptable sins. The resilient and relentless sins. The diehard sins.

In spy novels, the silent assassin learns to live incognito, waiting and plotting his deadly deeds. Our sins can be very much like that. We hustle through life while they escape our notice and fester just beneath our noses. Either we don’t recognize them as sins because they’re commonplace in our lives or cultures, or we know that they’re sinful but have given up on changing them. With the passage of time, we accept them as a disappointing, natural part of life. These sins are hard to fight because they are concealed from us.

Puritan pastor John Owen provides this ominous warning: “Be killing sin or it will be killing you."[2] For many Christians, the sins that “will be killing” us are not the million-dollar sins like murder or rape. We often have sufficient reason to avoid them. Rather, the hidden faults that fly under the radar—at the lower altitudes of our hearts—are the sins that cause us the most trouble. If we are not alert, we practice them day by day and they burrow into our lives like lice. And once they are settled in, extermination becomes all the more difficult.

I have known people with a deadly peanut allergy. Even a whiff of peanut butter constricts their airways and immediately endangers their lives. The most serious allergies don’t even allow the sufferer enough time to reach a doctor for help, meaning that the person must remain ever ready to jab himself with a shot of medicine in order to reverse the violent reaction. The fight against sin carries a similar quality. We depend on pastors, counselors, and other Christian friends to give us wise counsel. But we also need a growing ability to minister the Word of God to our own souls. Immeasurable hope and help await you as you learn to kill the diehard sins that plague you, because, no matter how deep your sin struggle runs, there is hope through Christ and His Word.

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

Newspapers of the 1920s offered readers “the gift that keeps on giving”: the Victor Micro-synchronous Radio Console with Electrola. Happy families tuned in to the Victor- Radio every night, and their delight continued on and on. Although I was not aware of it at the time, the Lord gave my wife and me a gift much like this. (No, it wasn’t a radio.) Two years into our marriage, during an exceptionally hard time, He called us to biblical counseling through the care of a faithful pastor.

Despite growing up in a faithful Christian family, my wife had walked a dark path. Amid life-dominating despair and recurring panic attacks, she had twice attempted suicide. She had been hospitalized in prominent psychiatric wards and had received nearly every psychiatric treatment available, including electroconvulsive therapy (an option of last resort). Soon after our marriage, we moved seven hundred miles from home in order to go to seminary—two broken people who were intimately acquainted, yet disappointed, with the full gamut of psychiatric help—and there we heard for the first time about the grace of Christ and the sufficiency of His Word for the care and cure of sinful, suffering souls like ours.

We were confused, amazed, and panicked all at once. This was very new to us. The next few weeks of class were especially eye-opening and challenging. We faced new truths about the nature of our persistent problems. These truths were hard to hear, and we didn’t immediately respond well. But by God’s grace, we scraped together what little courage we had and reached out to the professor of the class for help: “We’ve never heard any of this before, and we really need to talk to you.” He abounded with generosity and understanding. The next Friday we entered a simple yet life-changing season of gospel-centered, grace-driven biblical counseling.

There were good days and bad days. Sometimes the truth was a sweet salve for our souls; other times we spewed our medicine and stomped off in disgust. In small, hesitant steps, we found hope, help, and lasting biblical change. The colors of our world became brighter as God’s truth renewed our minds. The fingers of depression and anxiety that had relentlessly gripped my dear wife (and me too at times) were pried away. The process of change was sometimes unpleasant and often slow—but, looking back, we wouldn’t wish it any other way. Through it, we received lasting benefits.

The transformation God worked in my wife and me through biblical counseling compelled me to discover ways to instill Christ-centered hope in the lives of others. With each step toward becoming more competent in the care of others, I became a more competent counselor of myself. The Scriptures rang true: all the trials and temptations addressed in my counseling were common to man—common even to me (see 1 Cor. 10:13). In every case, I gave the people who I counseled the same comprehensive counsel of God’s Word that I myself needed. And I counseled myself in the same ways. The gift of biblical counseling that I received many years ago has kept on giving to me, helping me in my own walk with Christ.

The Three-Part Plan

My method of caring for others through counseling and discipleship is simple. When ministering to another person, I use a three-fold plan: enter his world, understand his need, and then bring Christ and His answers to the person.[3] It is by no means simplistic, but it is simple. As you will see in this post, I have adapted this method of ministry to others and presented it as a tool for fighting sin and caring for our own souls day by day. With practice, it has become second nature to me, and I hope it will become second nature to you too.

1. Enter with joy into your struggle against destructive daily habits,

2. understand your real needs in the fight, and then

3. bring Christ and His provisions to bear on your beliefs and desires.

The three steps of the plan are specifically drawn from Matthew 9:35–36, but they more broadly represent Jesus’s entire ministry. In an unassuming passage of his gospel, Matthew gives a glimpse of Jesus’s normal mode of ministry.

Jesus was going through all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every kind of disease and every kind of sickness. Seeing the people, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd. (Matt. 9:35–36)

On a mission of love, Jesus entered our world by His incarnation and even walked our streets. He would actively traverse the cities and villages. Jesus routinely spent time with people and entered into the dark and difficult experiences of life. The Lord of glory did not remain in His regal, heavenly home; rather, He condescended into our fallen world—born in a manger, living in poverty, and working with His hands. Though sinless, He was tempted as we are and suffered a cruel atoning death. Many people may love me, but none would stoop down in such a magnificent way for me. Jesus entered my world and yours.

As one of us, Jesus understands our true needs. Every thoughtful person has some sense of our common spiritual problem. Every person knows that there is a God “with whom we have to do” (Heb. 4:13; see also Rom. 1:21). But the blinding influence of sin hides the true nature of our need from view. In the light of a doctor’s knowledge, a patient’s crude self-diagnosis falls flat. Our Great Physician understands our need. When Jesus went through the villages, He understood the people He encountered. He saw their sinful, distressed, and broken spirits. He saw sheep in need of a shepherd.

What is so impressive about a shepherd? A shepherd understands his sheep. As in Psalm 23, the divine Shepherd knows the whereabouts of His sheep, the dangers they face, the nourishment they lack, and the restoring care they need. The Lord understands the people into whose world He enters.

Not only that, Jesus brings His provisions and resources. By His perfect knowledge, understanding, and wisdom, He not only cared for people’s broken, diseased bodies but also brought help for their souls. Jesus counseled the people who He met in the cities and villages. He taught them biblical truth in their synagogues, and He ministered the good news of His kingdom to their souls.

Ultimately, He brought the people Himself. In the synagogue or on the street corner or house-to-house, Jesus and His disciples didn’t present a program or tool for changing lives. Jesus didn’t create an app for fixing life problems. He brought Himself—His perfect person, His unstoppable power, His eternal promises and purposes. Jesus entered our world, understood our need, and brought to us His power and grace.

Editor's Note: This is an excerpt from Witt's book, Diehard Sins.

Notes

1. ^ “Giant African Snail,” USDA APHIS, last modified June 4, 2018, https:// www.aphis.usda.gov/aphis/ourfocus/planthealth/plant-pest-and-disease-programs /pests-and-diseases/giant-african-snail/ct_giant_african_snail_home.

2. ^ John Owen, The Mortification of Sin (1656; repr., London: Banner of Truth, 2004), 5.

3. ^ I learned this approach to ministry from my mentor, Robert Jones. He applies it to counseling others; I am adapting it for personal growth. If you skipped over the foreword that he wrote for this book, please read it. 

Rush Witt

Rush Witt is lead pastor of Paramount Church in Bexley, Ohio, and author of A Strategy for Incorporating Biblical Counseling in North American Church Plants. Along with his pastoral responsibilities, he works as Acquisitions Editor for P&R Publishing and as Chaplain for the Bexley Police Department. Rush is a certified biblical counselor with the Association of Certified Biblical Counselors. Rush has an MDiv and DMin from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. Rush and his wife Kathryn have five children. 

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/a-destructive-daily-problem

Romans 7: The Mature Christian

Article by Jordan Standridge

My doctor told me that he isn’t satisfied with containing the cancer in my body he wants to eradicate it. When he said that I realized that we should have the same attitude with our sin, we shouldn’t contain it we should kill it!

Those were the words of Ed, a man in my church who has stage four cancer raging through his body.

I really appreciated his perspective. Despite the fact that he hates the fact that he has cancer, he hates something else even more–sin.

I’ve been thinking about what Ed said ever since. I recently had the opportunity to preach on Romans 7, and I’ve been struck with the similarities between what Ed said and what Paul is saying in this passage.

The issue I’ve been considering, though, is the seeming dichotomy we face as believers. We are to kill sin in our lives, but no matter what we do, sin will always be present until our very last breath.

Romans 7 is one of the most controversial passages in Scripture as far as debates are concerned. The big question people ask is, is Paul referring to a believer as he talks through Romans 7:14-25? Even among those who agree that he is speaking about a believer, there is much debate as to whether the person described is a mature or an immature Christian.

I take the view that this is describing the type of Christian we should all strive to be. This, in other words, is the most mature of believers, and I have four reasons why.

Paul Hates His Sin

Paul is very clear that he doesn’t want to sin. He hates it. That is in direct opposition to how he describes non-Christians just four chapters earlier. In Romans 3:10-23, he describes unbelievers as not being able to do good. As being swift to shed blood. As people who do not seek after God. In Romans 1, he lists an incredible list of sins, and then declares that unbelievers practice those things and give approval of those who do them! Paul does not seem to believe that unbelievers have the capacity to hate their sin. In fact, I would go as far as to say that unbelievers are blinded as to the extent of their sin.

In Philippians 3, Paul, on the other hand, describing himself before Christ, though he had kept the law perfectly. He says that he was blameless as far as the law is concerned. He didn’t hate his sin before Christian, he was completely blinded to it. In Romans 7, it’s a different story. He says in verse 15, “I do the very things I hate.” In verse 19, “the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.”  In verse 21 he says, when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand.” These are the words of someone who hates sin and wants to please God.

One of the ways you can know that you are a Christian is if you hate your sin. Of course, everyone hates the consequences of sin, but believers–those who have received a new heart–hate the fact that their sin displeases their Savior.

Paul is Humble

True humility is an impossible trait for an unbeliever to possess because true humility only comes when you believe in the God of the Bible. The God of the Bible demands that you believe three things about yourself. That you are a sinner (Rom. 3:23), that you deserve hell for eternity for your sin (Rom. 6:23), and that you believe that you can’t contribute one iota to your salvation (Eph. 2:8-9).

Paul is marked by humility throughout Romans 7. He calls his actions evil in Romans 7:19, 21. He says that, “nothing good dwells in me” (Rom. 7:18). He calls himself a “wretched man” in Romans 7:24. This is a humble man who realizes that without the Lord’s help he can’t be saved nor can he be sanctified.

Another way that you can know that you are a Christian is through your humility. You needed to be supernaturally humble to be saved in the first place, but humility continues and marks your life once you receive a new heart.

Paul is Happiest When Holy

One of the things that struck me about studying Romans 7 is that Paul is happiest when he is holy. This man is despairing in his present state.

In verse 22, Paul shouts a truth that is only true for born-again believers. He says, “For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being.” Like the man in Psalm 1, His delight is in the law of the Lord. He understands that true joy is only found in those who listen to God’s Word.

Psalm 32 is a great example of this. David experienced turmoil because he was a child of God. When he kept silent about his sin, his body wasted away. But when he confessed his sin, it produced gladness and much joy (Psalm 32:11).

One of the ways that you can knowyou are a Christian is if your love for Jesus causes you to desire holiness above all else. Obeying God’s Word is the desire of your heart.

Paul is Hoping in Heaven

Because Paul’s greatest goal in life is holiness, his greatest desire is Heaven. After walking through the despair of the Christian life, the knowledge of the fact that he will never be fully successful in his quest to put to death the deeds of the flesh, his only solution for it all is to rejoice in the deliverance found in Jesus Christ. (Rom. 7:25)

The Christian’s greatest desire on earth is to be with his Savior in Heaven. Our Savior will wipe away our tears, remove all pain, and will do away with the consequences of sin in our lives. Sin is the root of all problems that we face in this life, and a true Christian can’t wait to be with Christ in perfect holiness.

Joni Eareckson Tada, who has constantly battled pain throughout her life, said it best when she said,

“Don’t be thinking that for me in Heaven, the big deal after I get to see Jesus is to get my new body, no, no, no I want a glorified heart! I want a glorified heart that no longer twists the truth, resists God, looks for an escape, gets defeated by pain, becomes anxious or worrisome, manipulates my husband with precisely timed phrases…”

Joni vocalizes our greatest sentiment as believers. That to live is Christ and to die is gain (Phil. 1:21). Non-believers cannot comprehend this fact. Paul, according to Romans 7, must be a Christian because he hates sin, he is humble, he’s happiest when holy, and he reminds us that his greatest hope is in Heaven where Jesus is, sin is eradicated and holiness is the way of life.

True believers long for Heaven for many different reasons, but the greatest of which is that they will be with Jesus and worship Him without any sin holding us back.

Do you long for Heaven?

Posted at: https://thecripplegate.com/romans-7-the-mature-christians-struggle/