So far in this book, I’ve had more to say about our enemy, Satan, than I’ve said in my whole life thus far. I’ve known Christians who seem obsessed with Satan, attributing their inability to find a good parking space to his direct opposition. I’ve tended to the other extreme, acknowledging his existence but marginalizing the fact that we live our Christian lives in opposition to a terrible enemy.
In affliction, it becomes painfully clear that we have such an enemy to contend with. The troubles themselves can be attributed to many things. Financial troubles, for example, can be attributed to poor choices by ourselves or others, poor health, the world economy, or being born into a poor family. Broken relationships can be attributed to external conflicts, differences in upbringing or disposition, and past sins by ourselves or others.
But whatever the root cause of our troubles, they seem to energize Satan who torments us with lies, threats, and accusations. He points to our misery as proof that we are not loved by God. At times, our misery is so great that he seems to be telling the truth.
Those who are dearly loved by God sometimes find themselves in profound misery. The bitterness of our circumstances creates bitter misery. But in such times, we are no less loved by God than at any other time and no less loved than those enjoying happier circumstances. At every moment, God is zealously working for our good, motivated by the love that moved him to make Christ sin for us so that we could become the righteousness of God.
Even those who accept this can be surprised by the depth of the misery in which God’s dearly loved children sometimes find themselves. Satan will point to the depth of our misery as proof that God doesn’t love us. Granting that Christians sometimes suffer, he’ll point to the depth of our suffering and say, “but they don’t suffer like this.” This, too, is a lie designed to discourage and paralyze us.
The truth that comes from God makes it clear that God’s dearly loved children sometimes suffer terribly.
Elijah suffered terrible mental anguish while he was running from Israel’s king and queen, who wanted to kill him. Just a few days earlier, God had given Elijah the courage to confront the false prophets who supported them as they abused their power and led God’s people in the worship of false gods. Despite the dramatic intervention of God on that day, Elijah was filled with despair as he fled.
But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he prayed that he might die, and said, "It is enough! Now, LORD, take my life, for I am no better than my fathers!” And there he went into a cave, and spent the night in that place; and behold, the word of the LORD came to him, and He said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah? [1 Kings 19:4, 9]
Elijah played a unique role in his generation, speaking for God as he confronted the leaders of a wayward nation. But as they sought his life, he showed that, in fact, he was just an ordinary man who was being used in extraordinary ways. He ran, he hid, and he lost hope. He lost his desire to live and prayed to die.
God’s people sometimes feel like this in times of great trial.
I’m not an Old Testament scholar and I haven’t studies the sociology of ancient cultures, but I have to believe that hiding in a cave is negative in all cultures and at all times. Elijah sat by a brook and prayed to die. Then, he went to a cave and sat down.
David seems to have spent a lot of time hiding in caves. One such occasion is mentioned in 1 Samuel 22:1, “David therefore departed from there and escaped to the cave of Adullam.” It was in this cave that David wrote Psalm 57, where he says he will hide in the shadow of God’s wings until his calamities have passed by.
Certainly the gloomiest of the Psalms is Psalm 88. This psalm was written by Heman the Ezrahite, a wise and respected man who lived at the same time as Solomon. In describing the wisdom of Solomon, 1 Kings 4:31 says that he was even wiser than Heman. Yet this good and wise man wrote this gloomiest of psalms, which begins: O LORD, God of my salvation, I have cried out day and night before You. Heman still has faith that God is the not only the God of salvation but the God of his salvation. But there is no other positive language in this psalm that speaks of a soul full of troubles in a man put by God in the lowest of pits, alone in darkness and terror.
Charles Spurgeon, commenting on this psalm, spoke of himself when he wrote that “he who now feebly expounds these words knows within himself more than he would care or dare to tell of the abysses of inward anguish.”
Like Elijah, this psalmist seemed to look forward to his own death. “It is a sad case,” writes Spurgeon, “when our only hope lies in the direction of death, our only liberty of spirit amid the … horrors of corruption.” Spurgeon goes on to write about the depths of sorrow and sadness in which God’s children may sometimes be found:
How low the spirits of good and brave men will sometimes sink. Under the influence of certain disorders everything will wear a somber aspect, and the heart will dive into the profoundest depths of misery. It is all very well for those who are in robust health and full of spirits to blame those whose lives are sicklied over with the pale cast of melancholy, but the evil is as real as a gaping wound, and all the more hard to bear because it lies so much in the region of the soul that to the inexperienced it appears to be a mere matter of fancy and diseased imagination. Reader, never ridicule the nervous and hypochondriacal, their pain is real; though much of the evil lies in the imagination, it is not imaginary.
The inward assaults of Satan are no less dangerous and wearying than those he sends in our outward circumstances. Heartache can be more crippling than an amputated leg or a broken arm. Though our torments lie in the realm of the imagination, they are not imaginary. Nor are they of our own making.
Commenting on Psalm 40, Spurgeon writes:
In the grim gloom the soul is haunted with phantom fears, while horror peoples the place which is empty of human beings; the heart is worried with evil imaginations, and pierced with arrows of distress; grief takes hold of the spirit, and alarm conquers hope.
Godly people sometimes find themselves in deep sorrow. To those blessed with inexperience in such things, the psalm and Spurgeon’s commentary sounds exaggerated. “Those who know this bitterness by experience will sympathize,” writes Spurgeon, “but from others it would be idle to expect pity, nor would their pity be worth the having if it could be obtained.”
Few may sympathize with those who suffer so deeply. Few will, but one is enough, since that one is Christ himself. Spurgeon notes that “[i]t is an unspeakable consolation that our Lord Jesus knows this experience right well, having, with the exception of the sin of it, felt it all and more than all in Gethsemane when he was exceeding sorrowful even unto death.”
In your deepest of sufferings, you are not alone. Those used by God in great ways knew great anguish. Christ himself knew the feeling of being sorrowful even unto death. Our high priest is not one who is unable to understand and sympathize with our troubles. No, Christ himself was tempted in every way that we are. The only difference is, he faced it without sin. He did this for us.
In the depths of sorrow and misery, remember that Christ himself suffered the very same way. You are not alone in your misery.
Satan will point to the depth of your affliction as proof that God no longer loves you and maybe never did. But the Bible was written by godly men moved by the Holy Spirit. Psalm 88 was written by such a man. David Dickson, a Sixteenth Century Scottish pastor wrote this about Psalm 88:
Such as are most heartily afflicted in spirit, and do flee to God for reconciliation and consolation through Christ, have no reason to suspect themselves, that they are not esteemed of and loved as dear children, because they feel so much of God's wrath: for here is a saint who hath drunken of that cup (as deep as any who shall read this Psalm,) here is one so much loved and honored of God, as to be a penman of Holy Scripture, and a pattern of faith and patience unto others.
Rather than being a sign of God’s disfavor, extraordinary suffering may be evidence of the strength of God in the sufferer. Dickson writes of this, too, in his commentary on Psalm 88:
They are not all men of weak minds and shallow wit who are acquainted with trouble of spirit, and borne down with the sense of God's wrath; for here is Heman, one amongst the wisest of all Israel, (and inferior to none for wisdom, except to Solomon alone), under the heaviest exercise we can imagine possible for a saint. …When it pleaseth God to exercise a man of parts, of great gifts and graces, he can make his burden proportionable to his strength, and give him as much to do with the difficulties he puts him to, as a weaker man shall find in his exercise, as appeareth in the experience of Heman.
In other words, if God allows suffering to come in proportion to the strength he has given us, great suffering may be taken as a sign of great grace. To whom much has been committed, much will be required. These words should bring comfort to those who feel like God, in their trials, is asking a lot of them. It is a token that much has been committed to you.
It is another evidence that you are not alone.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Feeling of Affliction
In the mind of most Christians, the book of Job goes something like this: God allowed Satan to do really bad things to Job. Then, things got better again and Job ended up with twice as much stuff as he had in the beginning.
This is the setting and context of the book, but it accounts for only about 5 percent of the total narrative. The main message is found in the other 95 percent of the book that lies between those two bookends beneath the discourses of Job and his friends as they struggle to make sense of the intense suffering of an apparently good man.
These men make a lot of long speeches about God and try to relate what they know about God to the troubles of Job. Their theology is basically sound but they still get everything all wrong. They reach faulty conclusions, not because their theology is inaccurate, but because it is inadequate. The message of Job is this: God is inscrutable. He is too big to fit into any of our theological boxes. No matter how well-constructed, they cannot prevent God from stepping outside their framework to surprise us.
Job and his friends gather to speak when God surprises them with Job’s terrible affliction. They are silenced when God surprises them again, by speaking for himself.
When God speaks, he doesn’t address any of their arguments, because these men were asking all the wrong questions. Instead, God poses a few questions of his own. Who are you and why are you questioning me? Have you given one moment’s thought to what the creator of this universe must be like? Why are you surprised that you don’t understand my actions? Like the audience watching a reporter floating in the flooded streets of Wayne, New Jersey, they’re astounded when God himself comes splashing through the scene.
When God speaks, the truth snaps into focus with stunning clarity. Job felt abandoned and alone, but he was every moment in the care and presence of the infinite and eternal Presence. The men who came to help Job ended up asking for Job’s help. However, many questions appear to remain unanswered for Job and his friends. There is no there is no indication that Job or his friends ever knew why these terrible things happened.
There are two other lessons in this book. The first is this: our affliction can be attributed to the work of both God and Satan. Satan, motivated by cruel hate for God and all that is his, intends to steal, kill, and destroy. But Satan is created by God and subject to God’s authority. He can do nothing except that which God allows, and God allows only that in which he is working for good.
When Joseph’s brothers sold him as a slave into Egypt, they were motivated only by jealousy. Years later, when he and his brothers were reconciled, Joseph told them the truth that although they meant to do harm, God used it to do good. Joseph and his entire family were saved from a terrible famine by the spiteful acts of Joseph’s brothers.
Although all of our affliction can be traced back to Satan and the sin that he introduced into our experience, he uses our affliction as an occasion to accuse us. He points to our misery as evidence that we’re not really loved by God. This lie is addressed by the other lesson in the book of Job: while it is true that “those who sow in tears shall reap in joy,” sowing and reaping are separated by a season of blistering heat, terrifying storms, and lots of waiting. The long, agonizing discourses of Job and his friends tell us about the mindset of men and women living between the sowing and the reaping.
In the long seasons of Christian suffering, men and women who are dearly loved by God feel weak, afraid, sad, depressed, and ashamed. They feel alone and abandoned by God. Sometimes, they just want to hide. Sometimes, they feel like they could die. When they pray, God doesn’t always answer their prayers immediately. They worry that he might not answer at all.
This truth reinforced throughout the Psalms.
The Feeling of Affliction in the Psalms
Weakness
Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am weak;
O Lord, heal me, for my bones are troubled. [Psalm 6:2]
My knees are weak through fasting, and
my flesh is feeble from lack of fatness. [Psalm 109:24]
Troubles do not create spiritual weakness, but reveal it. Troubles scatter our illusions of strength and reveal our complete dependence upon God. They show us the good sense of praying that God would give us this day our daily bread. We need God moment by moment.
In trials, our spiritual weakness is often compounded by physical weakness. This is certainly true of those whose trials consist of a struggle with disease and injuries. It is also true of those whose grief robs them of their appetite, sucking the health and strength from their very bones. In the worst of my own sorrows, I lost my appetite and lost almost 30 pounds.
The terrible enemy of our souls is at work against us in all of our troubles. We are no match for him. But God is also at work in all of our trials for our good. And if God be for us, who can be against us? Martin Luther said it well:
Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.
And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us:
The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,
One little word shall fell him.
Fear
The pangs of death surrounded me,
And the floods of ungodliness made me afraid. [Psalm 18:4]]
My heart is severely pained within me,
And the terrors of death have fallen upon me. [Psalm 55:4]
Fearfulness and trembling have come upon me,
And horror has overwhelmed me. [Psalm 55:5]
Faith is not an absence of doubt and fear, but a truth-based response to doubt and fear. In times of trouble, good people are afraid. God has provided everything that I need in my current affliction. I wrote some specific concerns in my journal six months ago and prayed that God would meet my need. I asked for a specific answer and did not get it. In fact, I can think of no good thing that happened in response to my prayers—nothing specific, anyway.
But none of the things I worried about happened. I don’t know why they didn’t happen or how God prevented them from happening. But somehow, in ways invisible to me, he took care of me. He takes care of me today. Now, I see him doing for me some of the things I asked. At this point, his response is just cream, or icing on the cake.
And yet, I’m still afraid. Although God provided in mysterious ways without answering my prayers directly and although I now see him at work in my life for my benefit, I find myself afraid that everything will unravel and that nothing will really work out for my good.
A little thing can send me into a deep attack of anxiety and depression. I find myself gripped, not by rational troubles, but irrational fears. It is as if the very demons of hell are suggesting all sorts of unhappy endings, threatening me, accusing me, and mocking me.
“If you were a real Christian, you wouldn’t feel so fearful. Some Christian you are!” Satan says this to discourage us.
“If you were doing what God wants, you wouldn’t feel this way.” Satan says this, trying to use our fears to turn us from the works that God has called us to. “Just give up,” he says.
“You’re just kidding yourself. Everything will come crashing down around your feet.” Satan works to bring a crippling uneasiness and dread.
I’m nearly sure the most commonly repeated commandment in scripture is, “Fear not.” There is much to be afraid of. Although the love of a mighty God means that we should never be afraid, we often are.
Sadness and Depression
How long shall I take counsel in my soul,
Having sorrow in my heart daily?
How long will my enemy be exalted over me? [Psalm 13:2]
For I am ready to fall,
And my sorrow is continually before me.
For I will declare my iniquity;
I will be in anguish over my sin. [Psalm 38:17 – 18]
I am weary with my crying;
My throat is dry;
My eyes fail while I wait for my God [Psalm 69:3]
I am weary with my groaning;
All night I make my bed swim;
I drench my couch with my tears. [Psalm 6:6]
My tears have been my food day and night,
While they continually say to me, "Where is your God?" [Psalm 42:3]
God’s own children will know long periods of great sorrow. Jesus himself was a man of sorrows, well-acquainted with grief. He wept for Lazarus, he mourned for Jerusalem, he was sorrowful and deeply distressed as he faced the penalty for our sins on the cross.
Joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit’s work in us, but sorrow is not a sin. Godly sorrow brings repentance, turning from sin to God. This is a good thing, turning us from death to life, from the source of sorrows to the source of all gladness.
But in the mean time, we cry until our throats and eyes are dry and our couch is drenched in tears. I am writing these words at 3 a.m. It has become a habit, when I find myself too sorrowful to sleep, to write in this book. I’m making a lot of progress on the book these days.
Shame
My dishonor is continually before me,
And the shame of my face has covered me, [Psalm 44:15]
You know my reproach and my shame and my dishonor;
All my adversaries are before you. [Psalm 69:19]
No one is proud of their weakness, fear, sadness, and depression. No one is proud to be floundering in troubles, especially when those troubles are of their own making. We feel ashamed. God’s own dearly loved children feel ashamed in times of trouble.
It’s now April, and I’ve been talking about my own troubles pretty openly about my troubles since last July. One friend, who had known of my own struggles with anxiety and depression, confessed just yesterday of his own struggles in the same arena. Shame silences us in our affliction, creating an isolation that magnifies our fear, sadness, and depression and that leaves us alone in our weakness.
Somehow, we have to find the courage to ignore our shame and speak truthfully about ourselves to those who love us.
Alone and Abandoned
Reproach has broken my heart and I am so sick.
And I looked for sympathy, but there was none,
And for comforters, but I found none. [Psalm 69:20]
And do not hide your face from Your servant,
For I am in distress; answer me quickly. [Psalm 69:17]
Be not far from me,
For trouble is near;
For there is none to help. [Psalm 22:11]
In times of trouble, I feel alone even in a crowd. I smile in response to the smiles of others, respond appropriately to their conversation, but there is no communion, no human connection. I am alone in my sorrows, no matter who is nearby.
God himself is nearby. His Spirit is in me. But I feel far from God. I’m haunted by fears that he has forgotten me or ceased doing good for me. I know these fears are from Satan, but that makes them no less fearful.
I speak the truth in faith: God is good. He that began a good work in me will see it through to completion. God is faithful. God does not change. He loves with an everlasting love. He who gave his son for me will not withhold any good thing from me.
On some occasions, the Holy Spirit surprises me with refreshing and reassuring affirmations of God’s unchanged affection for me. But much of the time, I feel alone and lonely.
Wanting a Place to Hide
In You, O LORD, I have taken refuge;
Let me never be ashamed;
In Your righteousness deliver me. [Psalm 31:1]
For in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion;
In the secret place of His tabernacle He shall hide me;
He shall set me high upon a rock. [Psalm 27:5]
Be my strong refuge,
To which I may resort continually;
You have given the commandment to save me,
For You are my rock and my fortress. [Psalm 71:3]
You are my hiding place;
You shall preserve me from trouble;
You shall surround me with songs of deliverance. [Psalm 32:7]
The strength and beauty of this poetry makes it easy to overlook the tragic and plain meaning of the words—there are times so bad that God’s dearly loved children just want a safe place to hide. The thought of God’s people looking for a place to hide might shock me if the feeling were not so familiar to me.
Some mornings, I wake up feeling ok. Then, as the reality of my circumstances and the familiar sorrow begins to settle on me, I can barely force myself to get ought of bed to face another day. I catch myself scowling and sighing. I think it was in response to this frame of mind that Augustus Toplady wrote the words,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me
Let me hide myself in thee
Waiting
Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am in distress;
My eye is wasted away from grief, my soul and my body. [Psalm 31:9]
Answer me speedily, O Lord;
My spirit fails! Do not hide Your face from me,
Lest I be like those who go down into the pit. [Psalm 143:7]
For my life is spent with grief,
And my years with sighing;
My strength fails because of my iniquity,
And my bones waste away. [Psalm 31:10]
“Waiting, I wait.” This is the literal translation of Psalm 40:1. Matthew Henry wrote that those who expect to find help from God should be fully confident of finding it. He is powerful enough to help the weakest and gracious enough to help the most unworthy. But they must add patience to their confidence because the relief that always comes does not always come quickly.
When God’s children face affliction, they sometimes face hours of tears and long days of waiting when our body, soul, and spirit waste away. For some of his dearly loved children, the affliction spans years or even a lifetime—those, for example, who are given the special task of raising a child with special needs or those with permanent problems with physical or mental health. Although God’s love is certain, his blessing is ours, his provision is adequate, and his grace is sufficient, there is plenty of trouble for each day of our lives.
Worried That God May Not Answer
Let me not be put to shame, O LORD,
For I call upon you; [Psalm 31:17]
O my God, in You I trust,
Do not let me be ashamed;
Do not let my enemies exult over me. [Psalm 25:2]
No matter how consistently God provides, no matter how many times the Holy Spirit comforts me with supernatural tokens of God’s affection for me, I still find myself tortured, at times, with the haunting fear that things won’t end well for me. Maybe it’s my own sin, maybe the work of Satan, or maybe both, but I worry that God won’t help me.
This completely unbiblical and therefore untrue thought leaves me worried that I’ll be put to shame. Everyone who knows me knows of my trust in God. If he doesn’t come through, I reason, they’ll wag their heads and say “Aha! Aha!” [Psalm 40:15]
I’m not saying it’s right to feel this way. I’m just saying that, in my worst moments, I do.
This is the setting and context of the book, but it accounts for only about 5 percent of the total narrative. The main message is found in the other 95 percent of the book that lies between those two bookends beneath the discourses of Job and his friends as they struggle to make sense of the intense suffering of an apparently good man.
These men make a lot of long speeches about God and try to relate what they know about God to the troubles of Job. Their theology is basically sound but they still get everything all wrong. They reach faulty conclusions, not because their theology is inaccurate, but because it is inadequate. The message of Job is this: God is inscrutable. He is too big to fit into any of our theological boxes. No matter how well-constructed, they cannot prevent God from stepping outside their framework to surprise us.
Job and his friends gather to speak when God surprises them with Job’s terrible affliction. They are silenced when God surprises them again, by speaking for himself.
When God speaks, he doesn’t address any of their arguments, because these men were asking all the wrong questions. Instead, God poses a few questions of his own. Who are you and why are you questioning me? Have you given one moment’s thought to what the creator of this universe must be like? Why are you surprised that you don’t understand my actions? Like the audience watching a reporter floating in the flooded streets of Wayne, New Jersey, they’re astounded when God himself comes splashing through the scene.
When God speaks, the truth snaps into focus with stunning clarity. Job felt abandoned and alone, but he was every moment in the care and presence of the infinite and eternal Presence. The men who came to help Job ended up asking for Job’s help. However, many questions appear to remain unanswered for Job and his friends. There is no there is no indication that Job or his friends ever knew why these terrible things happened.
There are two other lessons in this book. The first is this: our affliction can be attributed to the work of both God and Satan. Satan, motivated by cruel hate for God and all that is his, intends to steal, kill, and destroy. But Satan is created by God and subject to God’s authority. He can do nothing except that which God allows, and God allows only that in which he is working for good.
When Joseph’s brothers sold him as a slave into Egypt, they were motivated only by jealousy. Years later, when he and his brothers were reconciled, Joseph told them the truth that although they meant to do harm, God used it to do good. Joseph and his entire family were saved from a terrible famine by the spiteful acts of Joseph’s brothers.
Although all of our affliction can be traced back to Satan and the sin that he introduced into our experience, he uses our affliction as an occasion to accuse us. He points to our misery as evidence that we’re not really loved by God. This lie is addressed by the other lesson in the book of Job: while it is true that “those who sow in tears shall reap in joy,” sowing and reaping are separated by a season of blistering heat, terrifying storms, and lots of waiting. The long, agonizing discourses of Job and his friends tell us about the mindset of men and women living between the sowing and the reaping.
In the long seasons of Christian suffering, men and women who are dearly loved by God feel weak, afraid, sad, depressed, and ashamed. They feel alone and abandoned by God. Sometimes, they just want to hide. Sometimes, they feel like they could die. When they pray, God doesn’t always answer their prayers immediately. They worry that he might not answer at all.
This truth reinforced throughout the Psalms.
The Feeling of Affliction in the Psalms
Weakness
Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am weak;
O Lord, heal me, for my bones are troubled. [Psalm 6:2]
My knees are weak through fasting, and
my flesh is feeble from lack of fatness. [Psalm 109:24]
Troubles do not create spiritual weakness, but reveal it. Troubles scatter our illusions of strength and reveal our complete dependence upon God. They show us the good sense of praying that God would give us this day our daily bread. We need God moment by moment.
In trials, our spiritual weakness is often compounded by physical weakness. This is certainly true of those whose trials consist of a struggle with disease and injuries. It is also true of those whose grief robs them of their appetite, sucking the health and strength from their very bones. In the worst of my own sorrows, I lost my appetite and lost almost 30 pounds.
The terrible enemy of our souls is at work against us in all of our troubles. We are no match for him. But God is also at work in all of our trials for our good. And if God be for us, who can be against us? Martin Luther said it well:
Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.
And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us:
The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,
One little word shall fell him.
Fear
The pangs of death surrounded me,
And the floods of ungodliness made me afraid. [Psalm 18:4]]
My heart is severely pained within me,
And the terrors of death have fallen upon me. [Psalm 55:4]
Fearfulness and trembling have come upon me,
And horror has overwhelmed me. [Psalm 55:5]
Faith is not an absence of doubt and fear, but a truth-based response to doubt and fear. In times of trouble, good people are afraid. God has provided everything that I need in my current affliction. I wrote some specific concerns in my journal six months ago and prayed that God would meet my need. I asked for a specific answer and did not get it. In fact, I can think of no good thing that happened in response to my prayers—nothing specific, anyway.
But none of the things I worried about happened. I don’t know why they didn’t happen or how God prevented them from happening. But somehow, in ways invisible to me, he took care of me. He takes care of me today. Now, I see him doing for me some of the things I asked. At this point, his response is just cream, or icing on the cake.
And yet, I’m still afraid. Although God provided in mysterious ways without answering my prayers directly and although I now see him at work in my life for my benefit, I find myself afraid that everything will unravel and that nothing will really work out for my good.
A little thing can send me into a deep attack of anxiety and depression. I find myself gripped, not by rational troubles, but irrational fears. It is as if the very demons of hell are suggesting all sorts of unhappy endings, threatening me, accusing me, and mocking me.
“If you were a real Christian, you wouldn’t feel so fearful. Some Christian you are!” Satan says this to discourage us.
“If you were doing what God wants, you wouldn’t feel this way.” Satan says this, trying to use our fears to turn us from the works that God has called us to. “Just give up,” he says.
“You’re just kidding yourself. Everything will come crashing down around your feet.” Satan works to bring a crippling uneasiness and dread.
I’m nearly sure the most commonly repeated commandment in scripture is, “Fear not.” There is much to be afraid of. Although the love of a mighty God means that we should never be afraid, we often are.
Sadness and Depression
How long shall I take counsel in my soul,
Having sorrow in my heart daily?
How long will my enemy be exalted over me? [Psalm 13:2]
For I am ready to fall,
And my sorrow is continually before me.
For I will declare my iniquity;
I will be in anguish over my sin. [Psalm 38:17 – 18]
I am weary with my crying;
My throat is dry;
My eyes fail while I wait for my God [Psalm 69:3]
I am weary with my groaning;
All night I make my bed swim;
I drench my couch with my tears. [Psalm 6:6]
My tears have been my food day and night,
While they continually say to me, "Where is your God?" [Psalm 42:3]
God’s own children will know long periods of great sorrow. Jesus himself was a man of sorrows, well-acquainted with grief. He wept for Lazarus, he mourned for Jerusalem, he was sorrowful and deeply distressed as he faced the penalty for our sins on the cross.
Joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit’s work in us, but sorrow is not a sin. Godly sorrow brings repentance, turning from sin to God. This is a good thing, turning us from death to life, from the source of sorrows to the source of all gladness.
But in the mean time, we cry until our throats and eyes are dry and our couch is drenched in tears. I am writing these words at 3 a.m. It has become a habit, when I find myself too sorrowful to sleep, to write in this book. I’m making a lot of progress on the book these days.
Shame
My dishonor is continually before me,
And the shame of my face has covered me, [Psalm 44:15]
You know my reproach and my shame and my dishonor;
All my adversaries are before you. [Psalm 69:19]
No one is proud of their weakness, fear, sadness, and depression. No one is proud to be floundering in troubles, especially when those troubles are of their own making. We feel ashamed. God’s own dearly loved children feel ashamed in times of trouble.
It’s now April, and I’ve been talking about my own troubles pretty openly about my troubles since last July. One friend, who had known of my own struggles with anxiety and depression, confessed just yesterday of his own struggles in the same arena. Shame silences us in our affliction, creating an isolation that magnifies our fear, sadness, and depression and that leaves us alone in our weakness.
Somehow, we have to find the courage to ignore our shame and speak truthfully about ourselves to those who love us.
Alone and Abandoned
Reproach has broken my heart and I am so sick.
And I looked for sympathy, but there was none,
And for comforters, but I found none. [Psalm 69:20]
And do not hide your face from Your servant,
For I am in distress; answer me quickly. [Psalm 69:17]
Be not far from me,
For trouble is near;
For there is none to help. [Psalm 22:11]
In times of trouble, I feel alone even in a crowd. I smile in response to the smiles of others, respond appropriately to their conversation, but there is no communion, no human connection. I am alone in my sorrows, no matter who is nearby.
God himself is nearby. His Spirit is in me. But I feel far from God. I’m haunted by fears that he has forgotten me or ceased doing good for me. I know these fears are from Satan, but that makes them no less fearful.
I speak the truth in faith: God is good. He that began a good work in me will see it through to completion. God is faithful. God does not change. He loves with an everlasting love. He who gave his son for me will not withhold any good thing from me.
On some occasions, the Holy Spirit surprises me with refreshing and reassuring affirmations of God’s unchanged affection for me. But much of the time, I feel alone and lonely.
Wanting a Place to Hide
In You, O LORD, I have taken refuge;
Let me never be ashamed;
In Your righteousness deliver me. [Psalm 31:1]
For in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion;
In the secret place of His tabernacle He shall hide me;
He shall set me high upon a rock. [Psalm 27:5]
Be my strong refuge,
To which I may resort continually;
You have given the commandment to save me,
For You are my rock and my fortress. [Psalm 71:3]
You are my hiding place;
You shall preserve me from trouble;
You shall surround me with songs of deliverance. [Psalm 32:7]
The strength and beauty of this poetry makes it easy to overlook the tragic and plain meaning of the words—there are times so bad that God’s dearly loved children just want a safe place to hide. The thought of God’s people looking for a place to hide might shock me if the feeling were not so familiar to me.
Some mornings, I wake up feeling ok. Then, as the reality of my circumstances and the familiar sorrow begins to settle on me, I can barely force myself to get ought of bed to face another day. I catch myself scowling and sighing. I think it was in response to this frame of mind that Augustus Toplady wrote the words,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me
Let me hide myself in thee
Waiting
Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am in distress;
My eye is wasted away from grief, my soul and my body. [Psalm 31:9]
Answer me speedily, O Lord;
My spirit fails! Do not hide Your face from me,
Lest I be like those who go down into the pit. [Psalm 143:7]
For my life is spent with grief,
And my years with sighing;
My strength fails because of my iniquity,
And my bones waste away. [Psalm 31:10]
“Waiting, I wait.” This is the literal translation of Psalm 40:1. Matthew Henry wrote that those who expect to find help from God should be fully confident of finding it. He is powerful enough to help the weakest and gracious enough to help the most unworthy. But they must add patience to their confidence because the relief that always comes does not always come quickly.
When God’s children face affliction, they sometimes face hours of tears and long days of waiting when our body, soul, and spirit waste away. For some of his dearly loved children, the affliction spans years or even a lifetime—those, for example, who are given the special task of raising a child with special needs or those with permanent problems with physical or mental health. Although God’s love is certain, his blessing is ours, his provision is adequate, and his grace is sufficient, there is plenty of trouble for each day of our lives.
Worried That God May Not Answer
Let me not be put to shame, O LORD,
For I call upon you; [Psalm 31:17]
O my God, in You I trust,
Do not let me be ashamed;
Do not let my enemies exult over me. [Psalm 25:2]
No matter how consistently God provides, no matter how many times the Holy Spirit comforts me with supernatural tokens of God’s affection for me, I still find myself tortured, at times, with the haunting fear that things won’t end well for me. Maybe it’s my own sin, maybe the work of Satan, or maybe both, but I worry that God won’t help me.
This completely unbiblical and therefore untrue thought leaves me worried that I’ll be put to shame. Everyone who knows me knows of my trust in God. If he doesn’t come through, I reason, they’ll wag their heads and say “Aha! Aha!” [Psalm 40:15]
I’m not saying it’s right to feel this way. I’m just saying that, in my worst moments, I do.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
The Fact of Affliction
The advantages of afflictions, when the Lord is pleased to employ them for the good of his people, are many and great. –John Newton
Christians have troubles. This is evident from the witness of scripture. It is evident from the witness of centuries of human history.
Satan points to the affliction in your life as evidence that you’re not really a Christian. Or he says that, if you are a Christian, that God has stopped loving you in his anger. But this is not true.
If you’re tempted to interpret trouble as a sign of God’s anger, rejection, or absence, look to Jesus, “the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Our faith begins and ends with Jesus Christ, who suffered pain, humiliation, abandonment, and death.
“Think constantly of him enduring all that sinful men could say against him and you will not lose your purpose or your courage.” J.B. Phillips, Hebrews 12:3
If you’re tempted to doubt that God is your father because of your troubles…
…you have perhaps lost sight of that piece of advice which reminds you of our sonship in God:
'My son, do not despise the chastening of the Lord, nor be discouraged when you are rebuked by him; for whom the Lord loves he chastens, and scourges every son whom he receives'.
Bear what you have to bear as "chastening" - as God's dealing with you as sons. No true son ever grows up uncorrected by his father. For if you had no experience of the correction which all sons have to bear you might well doubt the legitimacy of your sonship. After all, when we were children we had fathers who corrected us, and we respected them for it. Can we not much more readily submit to a heavenly Father's discipline, and learn how to live?
For our fathers used to correct us according to their own ideas during the brief days of childhood. But God corrects us all our days for our own benefit, to teach us his holiness. Now obviously no "chastening" seems pleasant at the time: it is in fact most unpleasant. Yet when it is all over we can see that is has quietly produced the fruit of real goodness in the characters of those who have accepted it in the right spirit. So take a fresh grip on life and brace your trembling limbs. Don't wander away from the path but forge steadily onward. On the right path the limping foot recovers strength and does not collapse. Hebrews 12:4-13, J.B. Phillips
This passage has much to say about the suffering of God’s people.
A proper view of suffering will remind us that God is our father, because good fathers correct and rebuke their sons and daughters when it is needed. Many years ago, my second son was grounded. I don’t remember why, on this occasion. With him, it wasn't uncommon. One of his friends wanted him to play and found out he was grounded again. "Why is your so psycho?" he asked. My son told him, “Well, think about it. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want me to turn out... like you.”
We shouldn’t despise our troubles or allow them to discourage us. That’s not to say that we should enjoy troubles. But like Christ, who despised the shame of his death on the cross, we should endure suffering for the joy that is set before us—God is making us into the sort of people who are fit to live with him. He is remaking us into the very image of his son, Jesus, using everything, good and bad, that comes our way to accomplish this great purpose [Romans 8:28-29]. Look ahead to the good thing God is doing in you. Have faith in his promise to make you like his son.
In our troubles, God is sometimes correcting us. (Sometimes, a much greater purpose is being served; more of this later.) As he corrects us, God proves that he loves us and accepts us as his own sons and daughters. No true son ever grows up uncorrected by his father. Satan will say exactly the opposite, but he is a liar and the father of lies, speaking lies as his native language.
It’s the absence of correction that ought to cause you to doubt the legitimacy of your sonship. The wicked, as Asaph writes in Psalm 73, don’t have troubles. They prosper. Their faces are fat. They are always at ease, always increasing in riches. “On the other hand,” he complains, “I’m righteous but I’m continually being corrected. Every morning, I wake up to fresh criticism.” This all seemed pretty unfair until he started thinking about the end of the story—the wicked are happy and prosperous now, but face destruction. The righteous are being guided by the counsel of a loving father who will receive them into his glorious home forever.
When we were children, our fathers corrected us and we respected them for it. Even good fathers are far from perfect, but they do their best to help their children grow up to be good men and women. Often, they did some pretty unpleasant things because they wanted us to have a more pleasant future.
Our heavenly father is just like that, at work in all things, good and bad, for our own improvement.
Our troubles discourage us and make us feel rejected by God when, in fact, they are the evidence of our acceptance by him and of his love for us.
So far, this can sound pretty glib. There is suffering in the world too bitter to be justified by any benefit in this life or any other. There is no human perspective in which the suffering seems acceptable or less than pure evil. At such times, the best you can do is to insist that “Truly, God is good,” maintaining a “deliberate confidence in the character of God whose ways you may not understand at the time.”
With such confidence, we can give into God’s care “sad hearts, difficult circumstances, deep loss, great disappointment,” trusting to find in the God who is a father to the fatherless “our confidence, our hope, our friendship.” [Alistair Begg, a Scottish pastor who somehow ended up in Cleveland, Ohio]
This is the confidence expressed by Rich Mullens in the song, “Bound to Come Some Trouble.”
There's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't nothing to be afraid of
There's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life
But reach out to Jesus hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there
There's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't nothing to be ashamed of
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
Reach out to Jesus hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there
Now people say maybe things will get better
People say maybe it won't be long
And people say maybe you'll wake up tomorrow
And it'll all be gone
Well I only know that maybes just ain't enough
When you need something to hold on
There's only one thing that's clear:
I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't nothing to be afraid of
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life
Reach out to Jesus hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there
Christians have troubles. This is evident from the witness of scripture. It is evident from the witness of centuries of human history.
Satan points to the affliction in your life as evidence that you’re not really a Christian. Or he says that, if you are a Christian, that God has stopped loving you in his anger. But this is not true.
If you’re tempted to interpret trouble as a sign of God’s anger, rejection, or absence, look to Jesus, “the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Our faith begins and ends with Jesus Christ, who suffered pain, humiliation, abandonment, and death.
“Think constantly of him enduring all that sinful men could say against him and you will not lose your purpose or your courage.” J.B. Phillips, Hebrews 12:3
If you’re tempted to doubt that God is your father because of your troubles…
…you have perhaps lost sight of that piece of advice which reminds you of our sonship in God:
'My son, do not despise the chastening of the Lord, nor be discouraged when you are rebuked by him; for whom the Lord loves he chastens, and scourges every son whom he receives'.
Bear what you have to bear as "chastening" - as God's dealing with you as sons. No true son ever grows up uncorrected by his father. For if you had no experience of the correction which all sons have to bear you might well doubt the legitimacy of your sonship. After all, when we were children we had fathers who corrected us, and we respected them for it. Can we not much more readily submit to a heavenly Father's discipline, and learn how to live?
For our fathers used to correct us according to their own ideas during the brief days of childhood. But God corrects us all our days for our own benefit, to teach us his holiness. Now obviously no "chastening" seems pleasant at the time: it is in fact most unpleasant. Yet when it is all over we can see that is has quietly produced the fruit of real goodness in the characters of those who have accepted it in the right spirit. So take a fresh grip on life and brace your trembling limbs. Don't wander away from the path but forge steadily onward. On the right path the limping foot recovers strength and does not collapse. Hebrews 12:4-13, J.B. Phillips
This passage has much to say about the suffering of God’s people.
A proper view of suffering will remind us that God is our father, because good fathers correct and rebuke their sons and daughters when it is needed. Many years ago, my second son was grounded. I don’t remember why, on this occasion. With him, it wasn't uncommon. One of his friends wanted him to play and found out he was grounded again. "Why is your so psycho?" he asked. My son told him, “Well, think about it. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want me to turn out... like you.”
We shouldn’t despise our troubles or allow them to discourage us. That’s not to say that we should enjoy troubles. But like Christ, who despised the shame of his death on the cross, we should endure suffering for the joy that is set before us—God is making us into the sort of people who are fit to live with him. He is remaking us into the very image of his son, Jesus, using everything, good and bad, that comes our way to accomplish this great purpose [Romans 8:28-29]. Look ahead to the good thing God is doing in you. Have faith in his promise to make you like his son.
In our troubles, God is sometimes correcting us. (Sometimes, a much greater purpose is being served; more of this later.) As he corrects us, God proves that he loves us and accepts us as his own sons and daughters. No true son ever grows up uncorrected by his father. Satan will say exactly the opposite, but he is a liar and the father of lies, speaking lies as his native language.
It’s the absence of correction that ought to cause you to doubt the legitimacy of your sonship. The wicked, as Asaph writes in Psalm 73, don’t have troubles. They prosper. Their faces are fat. They are always at ease, always increasing in riches. “On the other hand,” he complains, “I’m righteous but I’m continually being corrected. Every morning, I wake up to fresh criticism.” This all seemed pretty unfair until he started thinking about the end of the story—the wicked are happy and prosperous now, but face destruction. The righteous are being guided by the counsel of a loving father who will receive them into his glorious home forever.
When we were children, our fathers corrected us and we respected them for it. Even good fathers are far from perfect, but they do their best to help their children grow up to be good men and women. Often, they did some pretty unpleasant things because they wanted us to have a more pleasant future.
Our heavenly father is just like that, at work in all things, good and bad, for our own improvement.
Our troubles discourage us and make us feel rejected by God when, in fact, they are the evidence of our acceptance by him and of his love for us.
So far, this can sound pretty glib. There is suffering in the world too bitter to be justified by any benefit in this life or any other. There is no human perspective in which the suffering seems acceptable or less than pure evil. At such times, the best you can do is to insist that “Truly, God is good,” maintaining a “deliberate confidence in the character of God whose ways you may not understand at the time.”
With such confidence, we can give into God’s care “sad hearts, difficult circumstances, deep loss, great disappointment,” trusting to find in the God who is a father to the fatherless “our confidence, our hope, our friendship.” [Alistair Begg, a Scottish pastor who somehow ended up in Cleveland, Ohio]
This is the confidence expressed by Rich Mullens in the song, “Bound to Come Some Trouble.”
There's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't nothing to be afraid of
There's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life
But reach out to Jesus hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there
There's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't nothing to be ashamed of
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
Reach out to Jesus hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there
Now people say maybe things will get better
People say maybe it won't be long
And people say maybe you'll wake up tomorrow
And it'll all be gone
Well I only know that maybes just ain't enough
When you need something to hold on
There's only one thing that's clear:
I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life
But that ain't nothing to be afraid of
I know there's bound to come some tears up in your eyes
That ain't no reason to fear
I know there's bound to come some trouble to your life
Reach out to Jesus hold on tight
He's been there before and He knows what it's like
You'll find He's there
You Are Not Alone: The Suffering of God's People
In times of suffering, you feel alone, but that is not true. You are part of a great crowd of sufferers that includes all of God’s people. God’s people suffer. It’s impossible to look inside the cover of the Bible without seeing this.
We call Hebrews 11 the “honor roll of the faithful.” These are the heroes of the faith, men and women who were “moved with godly fear,” who were tested, who choose “to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the passing pleasures of sin.” God’s people faced the lions, the “violence of fire,” and “the edge of the sword.”
“Others were tortured…had trials of mockings and scourgings, … of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, in dens and caves of the earth.”
It is against this backdrop that the opening words of Hebrews 12 are to be understood.
Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
It is not my point to compare our suffering with the suffering of others. It is simply to remind us that, as we suffer, we are part of a great cloud of suffering witnesses.
You are not alone.
From cover to cover, the Bible is filled with the accounts of God’s loving care of people who suffer. Adam and Eve suffered the loss of a unique, innocent fellowship with God, hiding in shame and being driven from the garden. They also suffered the loss of two sons: one murdered and the other, his murderer. Noah suffered the mockery of a wicked generation and he, too, “lost” a son to the curse of sin.
Abraham and Sarah endured a lifetime of childlessness before God promised them a son; they waited years and years for this promise to be fulfilled. Hannah was inconsolable because of her inability to bear children, as was Rachel.
Isaac family was divided by deception and theft for most of his life. Joseph lived for years as a servant and a prisoner. Judah buried two sons and his daughter-in-law, Tamar, lost two husbands. Although she was twice widowed, Tamar was abandoned by Judah’s family; in despair, she resorted to prostitution to draw attention to this unfairness.
God’s promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was that their offspring would be blessed. Over time they grew from a family to a small nation, consisting of twelve tribes. This happened over a period of four hundred years while they lived as slaves in Egypt in persecution and hard labor. At the time of Moses birth, Egypt’s pharaoh had commanded that every male child be killed.
The LORD said, "I have seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt. I have heard their cry. I am aware of their sufferings.” They were God’s people and they suffered for 400 years.
Under Joshua’s leadership, Israel faced a crushing defeat at Ai because of the sin of one man.
Naomi lost a husband and two sons, Ruth lost a husband, and the two of them came empty-handed into Israel as little more than beggars. Although the great king David would descend from these two women, nothing in their circumstances indicated that God had a special plan for them as Ruth collected the leftovers during harvest.
Then, there is David—the great sufferer. So much of the Psalms deals with David’s faith-struggle in the face of suffering, opposition, and personal failure.
The normal experience of God’s prophets was rejection, persecution, and violent death. The same is true for the apostles, starting with James the brother of John, who was killed “by the sword.”
The persecution of the early church was so severe that they fled in all directions in fear for their lives. Although this was a powerful tool for spreading the gospel, persecution is persecution. Many were killed. Those who were not abandoned much of what was precious to them—family, friends, land, and homes.
Church history tells much the same story. To this very day, God’s people suffer. They cry out to God in their misery and he hears them.
Psalm 88 begins: O Lord, God of my salvation, I have cried out day and night before you. The author had found salvation. He was certain of that fact and certain that his salvation was from God. But the author of this psalm was suffering greatly:
My soul is full of troubles,
And my life draws near to the grave.
I am counted with those who go down to the pit;
I am like a man who has no strength,
Adrift among the dead,
Like the slain who lie in the grave,
Whom You remember no more,
And who are cut off from Your hand.
You have laid me in the lowest pit,
In darkness, in the depths.
Your wrath lies heavy upon me,
And You have afflicted me
This dark psalm offers great comfort to those who find themselves in a similar place and worry that those who are truly God's would not suffer in such a way. Charles Spurgeon wrote about this psalm, saying that those who feel this way shouldn't imagine that a strange thing has happened to them. Instead, they should look around and take comfort as they see the footprints of others who have walked this desert before them. And he offers the revelation that "he who now feebly expounds these words knows within himself more than he would care or dare to tell of the abysses of inward anguish."
To those who suffer, I write: you are not alone.
We call Hebrews 11 the “honor roll of the faithful.” These are the heroes of the faith, men and women who were “moved with godly fear,” who were tested, who choose “to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the passing pleasures of sin.” God’s people faced the lions, the “violence of fire,” and “the edge of the sword.”
“Others were tortured…had trials of mockings and scourgings, … of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, in dens and caves of the earth.”
It is against this backdrop that the opening words of Hebrews 12 are to be understood.
Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
It is not my point to compare our suffering with the suffering of others. It is simply to remind us that, as we suffer, we are part of a great cloud of suffering witnesses.
You are not alone.
From cover to cover, the Bible is filled with the accounts of God’s loving care of people who suffer. Adam and Eve suffered the loss of a unique, innocent fellowship with God, hiding in shame and being driven from the garden. They also suffered the loss of two sons: one murdered and the other, his murderer. Noah suffered the mockery of a wicked generation and he, too, “lost” a son to the curse of sin.
Abraham and Sarah endured a lifetime of childlessness before God promised them a son; they waited years and years for this promise to be fulfilled. Hannah was inconsolable because of her inability to bear children, as was Rachel.
Isaac family was divided by deception and theft for most of his life. Joseph lived for years as a servant and a prisoner. Judah buried two sons and his daughter-in-law, Tamar, lost two husbands. Although she was twice widowed, Tamar was abandoned by Judah’s family; in despair, she resorted to prostitution to draw attention to this unfairness.
God’s promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was that their offspring would be blessed. Over time they grew from a family to a small nation, consisting of twelve tribes. This happened over a period of four hundred years while they lived as slaves in Egypt in persecution and hard labor. At the time of Moses birth, Egypt’s pharaoh had commanded that every male child be killed.
The LORD said, "I have seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt. I have heard their cry. I am aware of their sufferings.” They were God’s people and they suffered for 400 years.
Under Joshua’s leadership, Israel faced a crushing defeat at Ai because of the sin of one man.
Naomi lost a husband and two sons, Ruth lost a husband, and the two of them came empty-handed into Israel as little more than beggars. Although the great king David would descend from these two women, nothing in their circumstances indicated that God had a special plan for them as Ruth collected the leftovers during harvest.
Then, there is David—the great sufferer. So much of the Psalms deals with David’s faith-struggle in the face of suffering, opposition, and personal failure.
The normal experience of God’s prophets was rejection, persecution, and violent death. The same is true for the apostles, starting with James the brother of John, who was killed “by the sword.”
The persecution of the early church was so severe that they fled in all directions in fear for their lives. Although this was a powerful tool for spreading the gospel, persecution is persecution. Many were killed. Those who were not abandoned much of what was precious to them—family, friends, land, and homes.
Church history tells much the same story. To this very day, God’s people suffer. They cry out to God in their misery and he hears them.
Psalm 88 begins: O Lord, God of my salvation, I have cried out day and night before you. The author had found salvation. He was certain of that fact and certain that his salvation was from God. But the author of this psalm was suffering greatly:
My soul is full of troubles,
And my life draws near to the grave.
I am counted with those who go down to the pit;
I am like a man who has no strength,
Adrift among the dead,
Like the slain who lie in the grave,
Whom You remember no more,
And who are cut off from Your hand.
You have laid me in the lowest pit,
In darkness, in the depths.
Your wrath lies heavy upon me,
And You have afflicted me
This dark psalm offers great comfort to those who find themselves in a similar place and worry that those who are truly God's would not suffer in such a way. Charles Spurgeon wrote about this psalm, saying that those who feel this way shouldn't imagine that a strange thing has happened to them. Instead, they should look around and take comfort as they see the footprints of others who have walked this desert before them. And he offers the revelation that "he who now feebly expounds these words knows within himself more than he would care or dare to tell of the abysses of inward anguish."
To those who suffer, I write: you are not alone.
Walking in the Light
I made a few false starts as I tried to write this chapter. I kept thinking about the distinction that scripture makes between the ways of man and the way of God. The ways of man seem right, but end in death. The way of God is narrow, hard to find and hard to stay on, but it leads to life. Those walking in the ways of God emerge undefiled, while those walking in the ways of man emerge unclean. God did not call us to uncleanness, but to holiness.
Then, I continued on the thought that ended the last chapter—that the truth of God is not a collection of facts to be remembered but a way that we are to walk in.
All those things are true, but they are not the point that I need to make in this chapter. I do have one thing to say on the subject before moving on the real point of this chapter: God has saved us so that we can walk in his ways. He does not save us because we walk in his ways, nor does he cleanse us to walk in the paths of uncleanness.
But the real point of this chapter is to reiterate the message of the previous two chapters: we need the truth that comes from God for all of life. This is especially true in times of affliction.
God provides three means of communicating his truth to us, and these three means work together. I wrote about how the truth of God is written in scripture and I wrote about how the Holy Spirit helps us understand the truth that is written in the Bible and to believe that it is true about us.
In this chapter, I want to write a little about how God communicates his truth through the lives of fellow Christians. This is one of the main points of 1 John 1:5-10:
This is the message which we have heard from Him and declare to you, that God is light and in Him is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His word is not in us.
Walking in the light implies not only obedience but outspoken honesty about our disobedience. If we walk in the light, we are cleansed. If we confess our sins, we are cleansed. See the connection?
This passage has much to say about confession.
This is the message which we have heard from Him and declare to you, that God is light and in Him is no darkness at all. It is really hard to imagine a life with God that includes secrets about who we really are. Light shows things for what they really are. The better the light, the more you see.
If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. We naturally prefer darkness to light because we think that, in the darkness, no one will know the uglier truths about us. But God, who knows all things, tells us not to pretend to be sinless. It’s a lie and he knows it.
But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin. Speaking the truth about ourselves is necessary for true fellowship. Christians get the idea that they have to pretend to be something they’re not in order to fit in with the church. That way of life is a thin lie that anyone can see through. It separates us from God and from one another. If you want to be warmly embraced by those who love God most, then be honest about your own sins. The blood of Christ cleanses us from those sins, so it’s ok to talk about them. The fellowship we have in honest relationships with other believers is vital. If we fail to live honestly and lose the fellowship that comes through confession, in times of affliction, the accusing, condemning voice of Satan may be the only one that we hear.
If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. “But what if I confess my sins and people just look down on me?” You should pray for anyone who does that, because they’re deceived and living a lie. Even the followers of Christ are sometimes like that. Those who don’t follow him almost always are.
If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. But God isn’t like those people. If we confess our sins—not just as an occasional act, but as the continuous honesty that this passage calls “walking in the light,” then we get the opposite of what we would expect. We’re afraid we’ll be condemned and seem dirty, but we’ll be forgiven and cleansed. God is faithful to forgive and cleanse, and he’s just in doing so. I love the words “and just.” This means that, in light of what Christ did on the cross, it would be wrong for God to do anything else. God laid all our sins on Jesus. There is therefore now no condemnation.
If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His word is not in us. In case you haven’t gotten the point yet: don’t pretend to be without sin. God knows better. Your wife knows better. Your kids know better. Your dog knows better. Who do you think you’re fooling? Jesus came to save sinners.
So, like the Scottish proverb says, “confession is good for the soul.” On the other hand, silence about our sin is poisonous. Psalm 32 opens with these words:
Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven,
Whose sin is covered.
Blessed is the man to whom the Lord does not impute iniquity,
And in whose spirit there is no deceit.
When I kept silent, my bones grew old
Through my groaning all the day long.
For day and night Your hand was heavy upon me;
My vitality was turned into the drought of summer.
The sins we hide in darkness will eat away at our bones.
I’m not saying that you should openly confess everything to everyone. Don’t apologize to the woman for saying that her child is ugly. Don’t tell your wife about the time you said, under your breath, that her dress really does make her look fat. Confession isn’t to make us feel better at the expense of others. You don’t need to confess to the gossips. You should be careful of what you confess to young Christians who might be tempted to use your weakness to justify their own destructive behaviors.
I think walking in the light of confession involves two things. First, everyone should know enough about your life to be certain that you understand your constant need of mercy and grace. When the details are needed, share them. When they’re dangerous, talk around them. But the sum of your conversation should clearly communicate your own understanding of your own need for a savior, now as much as ever. Second, you should cultivate a few relationships where you can be honest about the sins that God is bringing to your attention most pointedly. When you confess to someone the embarrassing details of embarrassing sins, you are bringing that sin into the light. Everything that was so appealing in the darkness is appalling in the light. When you enter into a relationship of confession with another Christian—keeping that sin in the light—its power over you will weaken. You will be cleansed when you confess.
And now, for my confession. I started this book just after Christmas. Now, it’s Passion Week. Three months into this project, I’m still struggling with all the problems that brought me to this point. I’ve had high moments and low. Almost daily, Satan has haunted me with threats of complete ruin. He tells me God doesn’t hear me, God doesn’t care. Some nights, I wake up and can’t get back to sleep because of the anxiety. Often, I’m not anxious “about” any particular thing. It’s more like a general sense of dread.
But God has promised that he will never leave me nor forsake me. I have seen the reliability of this promise a number of times as the Holy Spirit has convinced me of God’s love for me in my prayers and as I see God’s fatherly care every day. None of the worst of Satan’s threats have come to pass. I have not come to ruin. God has not left me.
A few days ago, I read about the Last Supper. After the meal, Jesus became “sorrowful and deeply distressed.” We think it’s strange when we find ourselves troubled and deeply distressed. But the truth is that Christ had troubles and we will, too.
In his troubles and distress, Jesus walked in the ways of God. For him, God’s path included betrayal, abandonment, false accusations, beatings, mockery and, finally, crucifixion. In his sorrow and distress, Jesus walked this path.
Troubles are not a free pass for disobedience. There are no sick days in the Christian life. It is God’s will for us to continue in the good works that God has called us to, even in times of affliction [1 Peter 4:19].
I lead a Bible study for men and I mentor younger Christian men. I help lead a mission organization, and help out with local ministries, like Prison Fellowship. I am a husband, a father, and an employee. People depend on me.
When I found myself in troubles and fears that I could not bear alone, I didn’t just drop out of these things. Nor did I put on a fake smile and try to hide my sorrows from everyone. But as I continued in all these good works, I told others of my experience of sorrow, fear, and disappointment.
And just like the Bible says, my effectiveness increased. When I am weak, THEN I am strong.
As he died the death that brought us life, Jesus didn’t try to cover up his sorrows. He told his disciples that he was so upset he felt like he could die. He cried out in pain. He told his executioners that he was thirsty. He called out to God, “My God, My God! Why have you forsaken me?”
God also wants us to walk in his ways, even in times of trouble. It’s not enough to read about the way of God in the Bible or even to have the Holy Spirit show us the way by helping us understand what is written in the Bible. God wants us to walk in his ways and to do so honestly, facing our sorrows and calling them by name in prayer and in truthful confession.
Failing to walk in God’s ways in times of trial robs us of joys, magnifies our sorrows, and adds new ones. Some of the greatest joys during this time of great trouble have come through my own acts of service. Even though I need help, I can still help others. Most of my greatest joys over the past few months have come in response to helping others.
Jesus said it is more blessed to give than to receive. This is true in a literal sense—the richest happiness is to be found in giving to others. In times where joy is sorely needed, don’t miss the mother lode that is found in giving yourself away to others.
Walking away from God in times of affliction puts us at a distance from our only source of strength and help. We walk with God when we walk in God’s ways, even when it feels like we’re walking alone. Walking in another way will only magnify our sorrows.
In times of affliction, Satan will speak to us as he did to Job through his wife: why don’t you curse God and die? The temptation to become angry with God or use our sorrows as a justification for sin is self-defeating.
Sin brings only sorrow. New sins bring new sorrows.
Then, I continued on the thought that ended the last chapter—that the truth of God is not a collection of facts to be remembered but a way that we are to walk in.
All those things are true, but they are not the point that I need to make in this chapter. I do have one thing to say on the subject before moving on the real point of this chapter: God has saved us so that we can walk in his ways. He does not save us because we walk in his ways, nor does he cleanse us to walk in the paths of uncleanness.
But the real point of this chapter is to reiterate the message of the previous two chapters: we need the truth that comes from God for all of life. This is especially true in times of affliction.
God provides three means of communicating his truth to us, and these three means work together. I wrote about how the truth of God is written in scripture and I wrote about how the Holy Spirit helps us understand the truth that is written in the Bible and to believe that it is true about us.
In this chapter, I want to write a little about how God communicates his truth through the lives of fellow Christians. This is one of the main points of 1 John 1:5-10:
This is the message which we have heard from Him and declare to you, that God is light and in Him is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His word is not in us.
Walking in the light implies not only obedience but outspoken honesty about our disobedience. If we walk in the light, we are cleansed. If we confess our sins, we are cleansed. See the connection?
This passage has much to say about confession.
This is the message which we have heard from Him and declare to you, that God is light and in Him is no darkness at all. It is really hard to imagine a life with God that includes secrets about who we really are. Light shows things for what they really are. The better the light, the more you see.
If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. We naturally prefer darkness to light because we think that, in the darkness, no one will know the uglier truths about us. But God, who knows all things, tells us not to pretend to be sinless. It’s a lie and he knows it.
But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin. Speaking the truth about ourselves is necessary for true fellowship. Christians get the idea that they have to pretend to be something they’re not in order to fit in with the church. That way of life is a thin lie that anyone can see through. It separates us from God and from one another. If you want to be warmly embraced by those who love God most, then be honest about your own sins. The blood of Christ cleanses us from those sins, so it’s ok to talk about them. The fellowship we have in honest relationships with other believers is vital. If we fail to live honestly and lose the fellowship that comes through confession, in times of affliction, the accusing, condemning voice of Satan may be the only one that we hear.
If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. “But what if I confess my sins and people just look down on me?” You should pray for anyone who does that, because they’re deceived and living a lie. Even the followers of Christ are sometimes like that. Those who don’t follow him almost always are.
If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. But God isn’t like those people. If we confess our sins—not just as an occasional act, but as the continuous honesty that this passage calls “walking in the light,” then we get the opposite of what we would expect. We’re afraid we’ll be condemned and seem dirty, but we’ll be forgiven and cleansed. God is faithful to forgive and cleanse, and he’s just in doing so. I love the words “and just.” This means that, in light of what Christ did on the cross, it would be wrong for God to do anything else. God laid all our sins on Jesus. There is therefore now no condemnation.
If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His word is not in us. In case you haven’t gotten the point yet: don’t pretend to be without sin. God knows better. Your wife knows better. Your kids know better. Your dog knows better. Who do you think you’re fooling? Jesus came to save sinners.
So, like the Scottish proverb says, “confession is good for the soul.” On the other hand, silence about our sin is poisonous. Psalm 32 opens with these words:
Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven,
Whose sin is covered.
Blessed is the man to whom the Lord does not impute iniquity,
And in whose spirit there is no deceit.
When I kept silent, my bones grew old
Through my groaning all the day long.
For day and night Your hand was heavy upon me;
My vitality was turned into the drought of summer.
The sins we hide in darkness will eat away at our bones.
I’m not saying that you should openly confess everything to everyone. Don’t apologize to the woman for saying that her child is ugly. Don’t tell your wife about the time you said, under your breath, that her dress really does make her look fat. Confession isn’t to make us feel better at the expense of others. You don’t need to confess to the gossips. You should be careful of what you confess to young Christians who might be tempted to use your weakness to justify their own destructive behaviors.
I think walking in the light of confession involves two things. First, everyone should know enough about your life to be certain that you understand your constant need of mercy and grace. When the details are needed, share them. When they’re dangerous, talk around them. But the sum of your conversation should clearly communicate your own understanding of your own need for a savior, now as much as ever. Second, you should cultivate a few relationships where you can be honest about the sins that God is bringing to your attention most pointedly. When you confess to someone the embarrassing details of embarrassing sins, you are bringing that sin into the light. Everything that was so appealing in the darkness is appalling in the light. When you enter into a relationship of confession with another Christian—keeping that sin in the light—its power over you will weaken. You will be cleansed when you confess.
And now, for my confession. I started this book just after Christmas. Now, it’s Passion Week. Three months into this project, I’m still struggling with all the problems that brought me to this point. I’ve had high moments and low. Almost daily, Satan has haunted me with threats of complete ruin. He tells me God doesn’t hear me, God doesn’t care. Some nights, I wake up and can’t get back to sleep because of the anxiety. Often, I’m not anxious “about” any particular thing. It’s more like a general sense of dread.
But God has promised that he will never leave me nor forsake me. I have seen the reliability of this promise a number of times as the Holy Spirit has convinced me of God’s love for me in my prayers and as I see God’s fatherly care every day. None of the worst of Satan’s threats have come to pass. I have not come to ruin. God has not left me.
A few days ago, I read about the Last Supper. After the meal, Jesus became “sorrowful and deeply distressed.” We think it’s strange when we find ourselves troubled and deeply distressed. But the truth is that Christ had troubles and we will, too.
In his troubles and distress, Jesus walked in the ways of God. For him, God’s path included betrayal, abandonment, false accusations, beatings, mockery and, finally, crucifixion. In his sorrow and distress, Jesus walked this path.
Troubles are not a free pass for disobedience. There are no sick days in the Christian life. It is God’s will for us to continue in the good works that God has called us to, even in times of affliction [1 Peter 4:19].
I lead a Bible study for men and I mentor younger Christian men. I help lead a mission organization, and help out with local ministries, like Prison Fellowship. I am a husband, a father, and an employee. People depend on me.
When I found myself in troubles and fears that I could not bear alone, I didn’t just drop out of these things. Nor did I put on a fake smile and try to hide my sorrows from everyone. But as I continued in all these good works, I told others of my experience of sorrow, fear, and disappointment.
And just like the Bible says, my effectiveness increased. When I am weak, THEN I am strong.
As he died the death that brought us life, Jesus didn’t try to cover up his sorrows. He told his disciples that he was so upset he felt like he could die. He cried out in pain. He told his executioners that he was thirsty. He called out to God, “My God, My God! Why have you forsaken me?”
God also wants us to walk in his ways, even in times of trouble. It’s not enough to read about the way of God in the Bible or even to have the Holy Spirit show us the way by helping us understand what is written in the Bible. God wants us to walk in his ways and to do so honestly, facing our sorrows and calling them by name in prayer and in truthful confession.
Failing to walk in God’s ways in times of trial robs us of joys, magnifies our sorrows, and adds new ones. Some of the greatest joys during this time of great trouble have come through my own acts of service. Even though I need help, I can still help others. Most of my greatest joys over the past few months have come in response to helping others.
Jesus said it is more blessed to give than to receive. This is true in a literal sense—the richest happiness is to be found in giving to others. In times where joy is sorely needed, don’t miss the mother lode that is found in giving yourself away to others.
Walking away from God in times of affliction puts us at a distance from our only source of strength and help. We walk with God when we walk in God’s ways, even when it feels like we’re walking alone. Walking in another way will only magnify our sorrows.
In times of affliction, Satan will speak to us as he did to Job through his wife: why don’t you curse God and die? The temptation to become angry with God or use our sorrows as a justification for sin is self-defeating.
Sin brings only sorrow. New sins bring new sorrows.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
