Conservatism, the Protestant Dilemma, and the Theocratic Element

Conservatism, the Protestant Dilemma, and the Theocratic Element

This post was inspired by what was for me an eye opening piece at American Reformer by Timon Cline titled, “Can Protestants be Conservative?”  I’ll explain what he means and lay out some of his arguments below, but this piece is really about setting up why Cline’s question is a perfect way to phrase the question and the dilemma it raises for we who espouse the Protestant faith. When I first saw the question it made no sense to me, but now it does, and hopefully before I’m done it will to you too. I encourage you to read his piece as well. He takes many of his arguments from a book published in 1962 by Clinton Rositer called, “Conservatism in America: The Thankless Persuasion.” I haven’t read it yet, but it will be interesting to devel into Rositer’s perspective on the development of modern conservatism and it’s rebirth after the World War II. Liberalism’s dominance after Roosevelt and the War was absolute, and conservatism thought something of a joke and not taken seriously by America’s cultural and political elites.

In order to make sense of Cline’s question, and set up the answer to it, we’ll first take a look at my journey through conservatism.

I’ve been a conservative since shortly after I “pulled the lever” for Jimmy Carter in my first presidential election in 1980. There’s a story behind that lamentable choice. As my name indicates, I’m Italian and grew up in a thoroughly Americanized Italian home and family. The two sides of my family couldn’t have been any different. My dad’s side was crazy, like every stereotypical over-the-top Italian family we’ve seen in movies or on TV: loud, boisterous, argumentative, especially when the alcohol flowed. By contrast, my mother’s side was as calm as a summer pond on a still day. My dad was born in Brooklyn early in the Depression, and his outlook on life in large part determined by it. Given Italian immigrants we’re almost all Democrats, they were a proud Roosevelt Democrat family. Italian also meant Catholic, and although my dad didn’t start out a faithful church goer, as I grew up he wouldn’t miss a Sunday Mass.

All this lead to my dad’s identity being rooted in three words I’d often hear him say: He was an Italian, Catholic, Democrat, and he would never change! And he didn’t. I went away to college in the fall of 1978 pretty much apolitical. I guess I was a registered Democrat, but didn’t think much about it. Of those three words my dad used, one was about to change. I became a born-again Christian not long after I arrived at Arizona State University, something that would not make my dad a happy camper. I couldn’t do much about the Italian part, but by the time of the 1980 election I would not be long for the Democrat word either. Given my ignorance I had no conviction one way or the other, but since I guess I was a Democrat, I should vote for the Democrat, and why Carter got my vote. He would be the last one. The morning after Reagan won I was in the student union watching Reagan’s news conference, and the more he talked, the more I realized I was probably a conservative Republican, and that’s how it all started. I didn’t know at that time I would have decades ahead of experiencing conservative futility and frustration, but I was all in.

My political journey really started when I came across Francis Schaeffer’s, The God Who Is There, sometime in 1980. Realizing my Christian faith applied to all of life, including politics, was a game changer for me. The campus organization I came to faith through was typical of a Pietistic kind of fundamentalism focused on “spiritual” things like Bible reading, evangelism, Scripture memory, lots of Scripture memory, and fellowship with other Christians. All that really counted was my relationship with Jesus, and the worldly stuff while maybe important, wasn’t a priority. Schaeffer began to change that, along with his once Christian and conservative son Franky. It’s through the latter that I learned about National Review Magazine and the Wall Street Journal editorial page. These became my teachers about the conservative movement, along with reading books that taught me what conservatism is. It all sounded great to me, but as time passed I noticed nothing seemed to change. The liberals continued their march through the culture, and we only seemed to conserve their gains, albeit maybe a little more slowly.

The Culture Wars and Conservative Futility
I’ll never forget watching Pat Buchanan at the 1992 Republican convention in Houston, and hearing the words “culture war” I think for the first time. For your average politically engage conservative, Buchanan was mostly an embarrassment. Bill Buckley, one of my conservative heroes, more or less accused him of being an anti-Semite. He had run for president against George Bush, but couldn’t gain any traction. The Bush campaign gave him a prime time slot to make his case for Bush, and his own vision for America. It’s one that looked increasingly prescient as the years wore on. It’s known as “The Culture War Speech,” which is a war mainstream Republicans wanted nothing to do with. What Buchanan understood, and Republicans didn’t, was that conservatives didn’t start the war. And what was most profound about his insight was that it wasn’t about culture per se, but about religion, about what Americans believed fundamentally about the nature of reality. A little more than halfway through the speech he lays out the case:

Yes, we disagreed with President Bush, but we stand with him for the freedom to choose religious schools, and we stand with him against the amoral idea that gay and lesbian couples should have the same standing in law as married men and women.

We stand with President Bush for right-to-life, and for voluntary prayer in the public schools, and we stand against putting our wives and daughter and sisters into combat units of the United States Army. And we stand with President Bush in favor of the right of small towns and communities to control the raw sewage of pornography that so terribly pollutes our popular culture.

We stand with President Bush in favor of federal judges who interpret the law as written, and against would-be Supreme Court justices like Mario Cuomo who think they have a mandate to rewrite the Constitution.

My friends, this election is about more than who gets what. It is about who we are. It is about what we believe, and what we stand for as Americans. There is a religious war going on in this country. It is a cultural war, as critical to the kind of nation we shall be as was the Cold War itself, for this war is for the soul of America.

That last paragraph was a planting-a-flag moment in American history, and a moment of clarity against the entire American political and cultural establishment, and they despised Buchanan for it. Around Reagan’s reelection in 1984 I got involved in Republican politics in California. I experienced even then how mainstream Republicans, who called themselves “moderates” looked down on we “social conservatives.” The 80s was the era of the Moral Majority, which inspired those pesky conservative Christians to become politically engaged, and the cultural elites from both sides of the political spectrum were none too happy about it.

The problem I didn’t quite see at the time, and what Cline exposes, is that the modern conservative movement is thoroughly secular. This doesn’t mean there were not deeply religious people involved, but that they bought into the myth of neutrality, that America’s liberty was based on a pluralism where Christianity had no more right to influence government policy than any other religion. Basically, and Cline points this out, modern conservativism was classical liberalism, an Enlightenment project that saw religion as a primarily personal issue, and religion in the public square as fundamentally divisive. America’s founders negotiated that tension, but given late 18th century America was thoroughly Protestant, and Calvinism dominant, Christianity informed everything about how the Republic was founded and governed.

I was not well versed on the history of conservativism or the conservative movement, having seen it as primarily a post-World War II phenomenon, but I learned from Cline it started well before that. Therefore, I assumed conservatives and conservatism was mostly on the side of we social conservatives because it sure sounded like they were. But as the 90s gave way to the 2000s and George W. Bush’s administration, I started to experience some cognitive dissonance. The 2006 midterm elections where Republicans got shellacked was like a gut punch. No matter what we do nothing changes, and the liberals and their progressive project marches on. Maybe conservatism slowed it down a little, but it almost seemed like conservatives and liberals were on the same page. I didn’t think that at the time, but suspicion was brewing up in me like a kettle on the boil. I concluded the reason we don’t get anywhere is that we ignore culture and think the answer is politics. So I went all in on the culture, but politics is important because as a wise older man once told me, it’s the distribution of power in a society.

After Obama was elected, the first Marxist president, the pessimism set in. I realized I probably wasn’t a conservative given their futility, but what was I? I thought about libertarianism, but that was a secular dead end. Maybe I was a classical liberal after all. I was hanging around some guys who embraced that moniker, but I realized it was too secular for me too, so now what? Trump! He reoriented everything for me, the very last person on earth I thought could do such a thing. At the time I had subscribed to National Review magazine, and had done so since the early 80s, and in February ’16 I got the infamous anti-Trump issue of the magazine in the mail. On the cover were big bold gold letters that stated, “AGAINST TRUMP,” and below the names of the contributors, a who’s who of the conservative movement. Some of since repented, but most of them got TDS so bad they could never recover. It was that day as I was trying to read some of it that I knew the conservative movement had been conning me all along, which is why I now call it, Con inc.

Conservatism’s Theocratic Element: Against Protestants
I finally came to understand that the fundamental problem with conservatism was that it bought into the secular myth of neutrality, that America, or any nation for that matter, could be governed without any overt political reference to God, and specifically the Christian God. Cline explains how this process of de-Protestantizing conservatism developed in the late 19th century with industrialization and waves of immigration, much of it Catholic. The changes coming after the Civil War were monumental as America was developing into an industrial world power. The religiously conservative rurally agrarian society prior was becoming an industrial city based country. As conservatism became less overtly Protestant, it became more classically liberal, or what Rossiter called “laissez-faire conservatism,” and thus more individualistic, libertarian, and secular. This was when conservatism lost its “theocratic element,” meaning there was no longer, according to Cline, “any positive moral, religious vision for society.”

The new conservatism would be more ecumenical, part of a “Judeo-Christian” tradition, less Protestant as it was in America’s first century. By the time of the development of the modern conservative movement, it became primarily a Catholic and Jewish driven movement. It wasn’t until the above mentioned Moral Majority that conservative Protestants declared their relevance again, but they were not exactly welcomed. Today we see this dynamic play out in movement conservativism’s aversion to anything smacking of “Christian nationalism.”

If you read the founding fathers you will find they were all, even the most supposedly Deistic among them, completely comfortable with the primacy of Protestant Christianity as the worldview and moral driver of the republic. When Adams said the following he was speaking about Protestant Christianity:

Because We have no Government armed with Power capable of contending with human Passions unbridled by morality and Religion. Avarice, Ambition, Revenge or Gallantry, would break the strongest Cords of our Constitution as a Whale goes through a Net. Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.

This was axiomatic for the first hundred years of the Republic, but secularism slowly took over, and conservatism went right with it.

What was most revelatory for me was the transformation among conservatives of the role of government. I always assumed per Reagan’s quip, that the government that governs least governs best. Since liberty was now defined primarily in economic terms, minimalist government became the default conservative position. Cline explains it well:

The purpose of government was always stated in purely individualistic terms. This was the minimalist, nightwatchmen theory of the state. Government was merely the umpire there to call foul if the rules of the game were violated. The state was decided not an active instrument of leadership, and was certainly not charged with social happiness. The goal was to reduce government’s relevancy and size to such a degree that, as Grover Norquist would say, it could be drowned in a bathtub.

One of the things Donald Trump exposed, ironically enough, is the secular-Protestant divide in modern conservatism. Traditional (as we’d see them now) laissez-faire conservatives despise Trump. A robust executive who exerts moral leadership over the nation is not at all welcomed. This is why conservatism developed, as Rossiter termed it, “an intense cult of the Constitution” rising to the level of “a second holy writ.” Reading those words was shocking to me because I assumed that cult was the normal state of affairs. Cline counters:

Whereas the actual framers had been ambivalent about the Constitution as a pragmatic mode of governance, the new conservatives sacralized it. Now the parchment was “great and sacred,” and inviolate, immutable even. “In short, the Constitution was a closed book by which Americans must live henceforth and forever,” and this closed book was a “catalogue of limitations rather than a grant of powers.” In need of an interpretive key and inspirational hermeneutic, the Declaration of Independence was rediscovered as the philosopher’s stone.

This gave us a new clergy, men, and now women, in black robes, judges became the new high priests. As Cline aptly puts it, “The move was not to suggest a moral, directing power to government, but rather the divinity of absolute restrictions against such activity.”

What I discovered reading Cline’s piece is that the reason modern conservatism is a loser political philosophy is because while it lost “the theocratic element,” the left never did. They understand what conservatives forgot a long time ago: there is no morally neutral place from which to govern a society. The left is driven by a moral force that will not be stopped, while the secular right is powerless to stop them. That is, until Donald J. Trump showed us what conservatism could and should be. It’s crazy for me to write that sentence, let alone think that thought, but God used Trump to reveal what I’d been wondering about for a very long time, why Con Inc. proved to be a con. Once I discovered this I realized modern conservatism was just liberalism in a skirt, and Cline confirmed that.

Protestants are finally debating the “theocratic element” and breaking out of the secular trap. Nobody knows where this is going to go because it is a complicated subject and everyone has an opinion, but at least we’ve started a journey that had to be made. Conservative Protestantism needs to be back at the center of the conservative movement and American public life. It’s our American heritage and we need to fight for it.

Epistemology and the Fall: The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil

Epistemology and the Fall: The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil

Knowledge is better than ignorance, knowing than not knowing, as you can appreciate when you see the pilot enter the cockpit on a flight you’re about to take. Or when you see the surgeon and medical professionals wheel a loved one into an operating room. Or let’s say you’re lost in a place you’ve never been without a map, nowadays without your phone able to display Waze or Google Maps because there is no cell service. You’re nervous because it’s dark and you’re alone and low on gas. What you would give for the knowledge that comes with cell service or a map now. Yet sometimes ignorance is better than knowledge, as when bad guys want to do harm but don’t know how to use a weapon. Or a child not knowing how difficult their life is going to be. Then we might use a saying we’re all familiar with—ignorance is bliss.

Yet at the very beginning of our faith, it’s genesis we might say, is a prohibition by God not to eat from a tree he called “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” It’s fascinating that what is philosophically called epistemology, the study of knowing, has been central to our religion from the very beginning. That this tree is right next to another tree, one God called “the tree of life,” is also something to ponder. And as we learn in Genesis 2, these two trees were in the middle of the garden, not out on the periphery or in some random location. Whatever is in the middle or center of something is of the most importance, and in some way life and knowledge are connected. We don’t know in verse 9 when we’re told this what the relationship between these two might be, if there is any at all, but I suspect there must be given their proximity. We know specifically that knowledge at least has an inverse relation to life in that it can cause death. We’re told after “The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it,” he gives the man this warning:

“You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; 17 but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die.”

It may be the act of disobedience to God is what causes the death, or the knowledge itself. Most seem to think it was a kind of test, that the prohibition was a probation, a trial to see if man could be trusted with such knowledge. He could not, as we know.

Again, we’re not told, and over the millennia there has been much speculation as to what this might mean. It could be both knowledge and disobedience, in that disobedience to God is what made man’s awareness of evil a reality and thus caused death. It seems man was created not to have knowledge of evil because everything God created was very good. There was no evil in the world prior to the fall, but evil existed in the universe, in the non-material world because Satan had already fallen. We’re getting into mysteries beyond the ability of the finite human imaginations to comprehend.

It is clear from the rest of Scripture, however, and common sense, that knowledge itself is not the issue given we are exhorted continually to grow in our knowledge because knowledge is a good thing. For example, the Lord says through Hosea that “my people are destroyed from lack of knowledge” (Hos. 4:6). And we see from Proverbs that wisdom is knowledge rightly applied. It very much depends on what kind of knowledge we’re talking about, knowledge of what and how it is used. So if we go back to the garden we might conclude that man already had and could grow in his knowledge of the good, like the God’s creation in order to rule over the earth, to fill and subdue it. They couldn’t do that without knowledge. That means we’re left with the conjunction “and,” or the connection between knowledge and evil. It is knowledge about evil that was the issue, knowing what evil is. Another way to put that is, man would now have the knowledge of taking God’s good creation and perverting it, turning good into evil.

You Will Be Like God: Knowledge and the Fall
We’re not told, but we can speculate if man had passed the test, he could then be trusted with such knowledge, and have access to the tree of life forever. This understanding seems to fit because the tree of life is at the beginning and end of the Bible. There are four references to it in the book of Revelation, three of those in the last chapter. The first reference is in chapter 2:

To the one who is victorious, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God.

Adam and Eve lost that right to paradise because they chose to disobey God. Satan knew if he could get man on his side in his rebellion, he would have a better chance to take down God who he saw as the usurper, the one who had taken his rightful throne as ruler of the universe. Talk about hubris. He was the one created by God, not God by him. So the first thing he does is question God’s command, “Did God really say?” When Eve answers the question, then Satan calls God a liar by contradicting him, “You will not certainly die.” Then he attacks his character, “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” The implication is that God is petty and jealous and doesn’t want man to have what he has.

This threefold attack is at the center of every sinful human being; question God, accuse him of lying, then attack his character. Man’s motivation at the center of his being now became the same as Satan’s; he wants to take back his rightful throne, to be the one calling the shots, to determine what is good and evil, to be like God. So, knowledge itself is not the issue, but who gets to be God.

22 And the Lord God said, “The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.” 23 So the Lord God banished him from the Garden of Eden to work the ground from which he had been taken. 24 After he drove the man out, he placed on the east side of the Garden of Eden cherubim and a flaming sword flashing back and forth to guard the way to the tree of life.

An important question when thinking about these things is the nature of evil, what it is. This was Augustine’s dilemma, who writes about his struggle trying to figure out what evil is in his Confessions. Early in his life he was taken in by the Manicheans who believed good and evil were two distinct and equal forces in the world doing battle against one another vying for our loyalty, light verses darkness. Over time he realized that made no sense because he could never find something evil that was not first good perverted. In other words, the Bible’s account made more sense, that God created everything good, including knowledge, and man’s rebellion caused him to take the good thing God created and pervert it, use it for evil ends.

So what happened in the fall is that man now had the knowledge to misuse God’s good creation towards his selfish ends. Instead of allowing God to dictate the meaning of things and their use, man would do whatever he wanted. He would now live in the subjective world of his own meaning creation, rather than living in and discovering the objective meaning of God’s creation. This orientation is a definition of sin Augustine gave us, and Luther emphasized as well, “incurvatus in se,” in Latin, or being curved in on ourselves. For me it is the perfect definition, a self-orientation, instead of a God and others orientation, and ourselves in that context. Knowledge now became something we possess to build our own kingdoms, to be our own sovereigns, sitting on the throne of our lives for our glory. What could go wrong!

We see immediately how the horrible effects of this orientation began to manifest themselves. Adam and Eve didn’t die right away like God seemed to threaten; physical death would be later and be inevitable. But it was a kind of spiritual death. The first bit of knowledge they have is that they are naked. It hadn’t occurred to them before that was even an issue, but now it causes fear, specifically of God. So the first thing they do is sew fig leaves together and make themselves loincloths, which is a poignant expression of the futility of man’s efforts to escape the judgment of God. From that moment on, all history is one long story of human beings furiously sewing fig leaves to try to cover themselves from God’s wrath and judgment, and earn his favor; it doesn’t work. The world’s religions express this futility in a myriad of ways, but they can’t heal the chasm between sinful human beings and a holy God.

Then instead of communing with God when he comes “walking in the garden in the cool of the day,” they hide “themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.” All religion is basically man hiding from God because he is our judge, jury, and executioner. No wonder we hide. Then in the very next chapter Cain kills Able, and it starts.

Thankfully, God had a plan and we’re given what’s called the protoevangelium, or the first declaration of the gospel in history. God promises the seed or offspring of the woman, Christ, will bruise or crush the serpent’s head, and redemptive history starts God’s millennia long process of reconciling himself to man, to save the world, and knowledge would be integral to that project—we’re given a book filled with it. But the serpent wouldn’t stop his deceits in the garden.

Knowledge and the Creation of the Modern Secular World
It’s no surprise we’re told that “the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made.” His deceits would manifest themselves in a variety of ways, and in the modern world he would use epistemology to bring down Christendom and turn it into a secular paradise more resembling a dystopia. I’m semi-obsessed with the history of ideas, and in the development of the modern West, knowledge and knowing is a central feature. It goes back to the ancient Greek sources that inspired Western intellectuals, but the ancients were primarily looking to discover the world as it was, while moderns were looking to remake the world; big difference.

As I’ve written about many times, it all started with a pious Catholic French philosopher, René Descartes (1596-1650). He was concerned about the growing skepticism developing in Europe, and decided to address it. He started by doubting everything that could be doubted, and came to the conclusion the only thing he couldn’t doubt was his own existence because of his own thinking. So he came up with a phrase so powerful it transformed the medieval world of Christendom into the modern world of secularism: I think therefore I am, or in Latin, cogito ergo sum. Speaking of orientations, the entire Western world began to shift form a God centered outward orientation, to a self-centered inward one. Talk about big differences—it was Satanically brilliant! This was the beginning of modern philosophy, and the so-called Enlightenment, an ironically named movement if ever there was one. With the development of rationalism, for the first time the world was given an epistemology based on human reason alone. The way we come to know is solely through our minds and thinking, our reason, which to Western cultural elites in due course made revelation unnecessary. Man would now get to determine good and evil on his own, no God required.

It didn’t take long for the the Satanic threefold attack to begin. It started with the questioning of God and his word. It wasn’t long before Baruch Spinoza (1632–1677), a the Jewish Portuguese Philosopher, decided Moses was not in fact the author of the Pentateuch. At the time this was highly controversial, and he was excommunicated from his Jewish community in Amsterdam for his troubles, but it wouldn’t be controversial for long. In the 18th century skepticism about the Bible increased, and philosophers started accusing God of lying, did he really say? French philosopher Voltaire (1694-1778) was the first to go public, so to speak, of directly attacking God’s character. After the terrible Lisbon earthquake in 1755 in which over 50,000 people lost their lives, he wrote a poem basically outlining the problem of evil, something no one would have thought to do before the Enlightenment. The late 18th century saw the rise of Deism and a God having nothing to do with the Bible. Then with the 19th we have a great flowering of open rebellion against God.

Once naturalism, nature is all there is, was accepted as axiomatic, unquestionable dogma, the Satanic floodgates opened. This all happened among intellectuals and cultural elites, and then slowly flowed down into the rest of Western culture. German philosophers like Kant and Hegel developed systems of thought that made the God of the Bible superfluous, although they weren’t themselves atheists. This gave rise to Marx and Darwin, and German biblical criticism, which treated the Bible as just another human fiction, more or less. This then fed something called liberal Christianity which was rationalism cloaked in religious garb, and secularism, society without God, became the worldview of Western culture. It took some time in the 20th century for the full flowering of a God-less view of reality to fully take over the culture, but by the infamous 60s the victory of Satan was complete. Now man had total moral autonomy, and over a hundred million people were killed in the process, but that was a small price to pay for man finally becoming “like God.” We’re now living in the rubble of epistemology without God.

But a funny thing happened on the way to John Lennon’s Imagine paradise. All the people were not living in peace. There was no brotherhood of man or the world living as one. Without God life was exactly what we would expect—a hellhole. And an increasing number of people want nothing to do with it. Being God isn’t as easy as it looks, and an increasing number of people want the life only God in Christ can provide, reconciliation to their Creator, and the blessings that comes along with it.

Ephesians 2 & 3: God’s Sovereign Almighty Power for Our and the World’s Salvation from Sin

Ephesians 2 & 3: God’s Sovereign Almighty Power for Our and the World’s Salvation from Sin

After being a born-again Christian for five years, one night by God’s providence I was introduced to Reformed theology, what some call Calvinism. In its broad contours it goes back to the great Bishop of Hippo (North Africa), Augustine (354-430), who emphasized man’s inability to save himself and God’s sovereignty in our salvation from sin. If you read through his Confessions, it’s clear who’s in the driver’s seat when it comes to God saving him from pride and paganism. I remember forty years ago like it was yesterday, going home that night after this introduction and opening my Bible to Ephesians. The gentlemen I’d just met and who would become a friend with profound influence on my life, suggested I read it, especially the first two chapters.

Up to that point, unlike Augustine, I saw my salvation and relationship to Christ as something where I was basically in the driver’s seat, and I clearly shouldn’t have been allowed on the road. I couldn’t have explained any of this given I had no understanding of theology, but that night as I read Ephesians, I saw it immediately and wondered how I’d missed it all those years. Now, instead of seeing my Christian faith in black and white, all of sudden it was in color, or having been trying to read about my faith in a foreign language and coming across an English translation; it all made sense now. Instead of me seeking after God and trying to be a good Christian, The Hound of Heaven had been seeking me and transforming my heart from within. Jonathan Edwards said our seeking and finding God doesn’t happen after a search on our part, but that our seeking and finding him starts with him seeking and saving us. This  was upside down and inside out from how I perceived things just earlier that same day.

Chosen and predestined in Christ: Spiritual Resurrection from the Dead
I’d probably read these words of Paul several times but somehow missed that God chose us in Christ before the creation of the world—I didn’t choose him; I couldn’t have, I wasn’t born yet! I realized my choosing him was because he first chose me; he initiated, I responded. That’s the way it always is in our relationship to God. As Paul says, God pre-determined, or predestined us, to be adopted as his sons through Christ, to be his heirs, even before we were born. I had nothing to do with any of it because it was all of his unmerited favor. And again, Paul says we were chosen because we were predestined, and that God had this all planned that it might happen “in conformity with the purpose of his will.”

All I could think of as I was reading and meditating on these words, as if for the first time, was the picture my new friend shared with me about how I might understand this process. I used to see salvation as if I were drowning in a pool, bobbing up and down in the water crying out for help. The gospel was the life preserver someone threw to me, I grabbed it and was saved! But now I realized I’d actually been dead, at the bottom of the pool, and God had to supernaturally raise me spiritually from dead, bring me to spiritual life so I could believe, so I could trust in Christ. This radical change in orientation, in perspective, changed everything for me.

Reading Ephesians 1 and 2 more than forty years later brings all that vividly back to life, and I see more than ever how The Hound of Heaven has molded and shaped me, transformed me, sometimes kicking and screaming, but wonderfully, amazingly, incredibly. I now see soteriology, our salvation from sin, not just as the immediate grace given to open our once blind eyes to God’s mercy and Christ’s merits for us, but as the lifelong transformation process we were promised in Christ. We are told that was Christ’s mission when Joseph was given his name, Jesus, by the angel in a dream (Matt. 1):

21 She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

I come back to this verse repeatedly because to me it says it all: he will save us, not try, not offer, not make it possible, but actually save us from our sins. This salvation, as the great hymn Rock of Ages says, is the double cure for sin from both its guilt and power. Reading Ephesians again reminded me that salvation is primarily about God and his work for, in, and through us. It’s not about me!

Ephesians 2 makes the contrast even more obvious. Paul brings death into the picture, and not merely as a metaphor, but as a spiritual reality. He tells us we are dead in our “transgressions and sins,” bottom of the pool, not flailing away in the deep end. Because of the way we lived, we were “by nature deserving of wrath.” Because we were unrepentant sinners, God was our judge, jury, and executioner. Then there is a world transforming conjunction, a “but” to reveal our transformation to a new life, all by the power of God. We had literally zero to do with it, and I will quote the full passage:

But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. 10 For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Paul could not be clearer that a resurrection from the dead is the spiritual reality of salvation. And not an escape by the hair of our chinny chin chin, but raised up to a royal position in Christ to the very right hand of God! And if Paul could not be any more explicit, he says, “and this is not from yourself.” I’ve heard people say since it’s a gift then we have the choice to accept or reject it, but nobody rejects the gift of a king. If it were because of our choice, then we would have something in which to boast. Look how smart I am; I made this choice and you didn’t. Regardless of what anyone’s theology is, everyone knows our salvation is the providential sovereign work of Almighty God. Nevertheless, Christians thinking they are making it “fair,” insist we must have the ability to accept or reject the offer. Dead people do not have that choice.

The History of a Man Centered Faith: How We Got Here
When I was a young Christian I would never have said my faith was “man centered,” but that was the implication of the theology I didn’t even know I had. I believed I was drowning in my sin, not dead in it, when God saved me. Once I became a Christian I believed that accountability implies ability, that if God commands something we have the innate ability to do it. Ever since Augustine, and even before, no Christian believed, nor did the Catholic Church teach, that we had the innate ability to obey God’s law. Despite much Protestant invective against Catholicism over the centuries, the Catholic church has never taught we can be saved by our obedience to the law. Grace is thought of differently in Catholic theology, but it is still grace.

No, the blame for a man centered faith rests at the feet the Protestants. After Luther and Calvin set the Reformation on a thoroughly Augustinian trajectory, the Arminians in the 17th century started to push back against that. They still defended the grace of God in salvation, but they had opened to door to Christians seeing salvation as primarily about our faith, our choices, our decisions, about us. Those things are of course involved, but they are only in response to the mighty resurrection power Paul talks about in chapter 1:

18 I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, 19 and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength 20 he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms.

When Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead it was a one-way deal, as is our salvation. That deal not only saves us from God’s wrath and the guilt of sin, but also from its power in our lives, what we know as sanctification. If we are one of God’s chosen ones he came to save from our sins, that’s going to happen whether we like it or not. And since God’s law is now written on our hearts, we will like it very much.

By the time of the First Great Awakening in the mid-18th century the cracks in the providential sovereign salvation damn began to form. It would become much more apparent in the Second Great Awakening a hundred years later, but our choosing and less God’s saving power began to be emphasized. Slowly but surely the focus shifted and now it was up to us. John Wesley was the theological turning point. He despised Calvinism and decided to lose his friendship with Whitfield over it. He believed that perfect holiness was attainable for the Christian, and that meant the Christian would not commit any known sin. You can’t get much more man centered than that. Holiness in the Christian life basically came down to our will, which is a fragile piece of machinery upon which to base the Christian life.

As the 19th century developed, Wesley’s influence could be seen far outside of the fields of Methodism, the movement and denomination he essentially founded. The various strains of Evangelical Christianity that participated in the Second Great Awakening fully embraced the Wesleyan understanding of Christianity. What came to be called Revivalism embraced a salvation that turned on a person’s decision. Each human being in this understanding has “free will,” so we are able to accept or reject the offer. Out of this Awakening several strains of Wesleyan perfectionism developed known as Holiness Movements like The Higher Christian life and Victorious Christian Living. The great 19th century evangelist D.L. Moody put it perfectly: “Whatever the sin is, make up your mind that you will gain victory over it.” 

That didn’t seem to work real well for me because I was in two minds about sin, and in many ways I still am. If defeating sin is about “making up my mind,” I may as well check out before I begin. That was basically the first five years of my Christian life, and it was a constant battle against guilt and shame. Even in the late 70s and into the 80s, perfectionism was still in the Evangelical air I was breathing, and I was not pulling it off to say the least. I’m currently reading Augustine’s Confessions, and this was the battle he experienced more before he became a Christian. Whenever it happens, it’s a battle for all Christians. Paul shares the same struggle in Romans 7 and asks, “Who will rescue me from this body of death?” His answer?

25 Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

But thanks be to God because he planned a salvation in Christ for his people that wasn’t up to us or our wills or abilities, but up to his resurrection power, and the Holy Spirit whom he would send to live in his people, as John says, to “tabernacle among them.” Our enduring faith is nothing less than God dwelling with us, in us, his people, now and forever.

The Difference Between Being a Parent and a Grandparent

The Difference Between Being a Parent and a Grandparent

I’ve thought about this a lot since we became grandparents over four years ago. As our kids were growing up and entering adulthood, I encountered people who had become grandparents tell us what’s great about being a grandparent is that you can enjoy your grandkids and then send them home. That seemed kind of hard-hearted when I heard it, or they didn’t really appreciate what they had, but I understand what they were saying now.

Raising children is a young person’s game and it’s a lot of work, especially when they’re young. Our daughter and son-in-law have three kids four and under, and it’s a challenge to say the least. My wife experiences it daily during the week as she sits the kids with our daughter who works from home. Praise God they live five minutes away and she can do that, but it’s a grind for a grandparent, even more exhausting than for the parents. It’s an incredible blessing and she loves it, but when she comes home at the end of the day the benefit of being a grandparent is obvious.

I was inspired to write this when I saw a post on Twitter/X where a guy whose children are just entering adulthood asks:

Don’t we all miss our babies? Does this feeling come back when you become a grandparent?

It depends on what feeling he’s talking about, but yes, we most certainly do miss them, which I’ll muse on below, but for us being grandparents is a completely different feeling.

I remember vividly how I felt when our daughter finally decided to make her entrance into the world after a grueling labor for my wife. I loved her instantly; it was total and complete. I had previously told my sister that I liked children and all, and looked forward to having them, but nothing prepares you for the love and emotion welling up inside you when it’s your child. My first thought through the flowing tears was, “There is a God!” It was by far the most profound thing I’d ever experienced in my 31 years of life. God is the only explanation for new life. As a Christian, knowing these feelings are in some way analogous to how God the Father feels about us, his people in Christ,  is incredibly comforting given how terribly imperfect we all are. Do we love and feel any less emotionally connected to our children because they are rotten little scoundrels sometimes? Well, I guess that depends when you ask the question, but having children teaches us unconditional love, and that is what God the Father poured out on us his children in Jesus on the cross.

But back to this-worldly realities. After a couple of days at the hospital, we were almost shocked they were letting us take her home. I thought, nobody’s coming with us? Somehow, she survived, obviously. I remember spending time just looking at her asleep in her crib and marveling. It was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen! I’d get emotional with the marvel of it all, of God giving us this little creature, of letting us co-create with him a new life on earth and for eternity. Just entirely too heavy.

Thinking about this reminds me of this passage from a book by Whitaker Chambers. He became famous in mid‑20th century Cold War America because of his association with convicted Soviet spy and American government official, Alger Hiss. In his magisterial autobiography Witness, Chambers tells the story of his life, including his conversion from atheistic communism to Christianity. The profound turning point in his journey came from something you’ll never guess: His daughter’s ear. Every parent knows how exactly he felt, even if it doesn’t lead them to Christ, which it should.

My daughter was in her highchair. I was watching her eat. She was the most miraculous thing that had ever happened in my life. I liked to watch her even when she smeared porridge on her face or dropped it meditatively on the floor. My eye came to rest on the delicate convolutions of her ear—those intricate, perfect ears. The thought passed through my mind: “No, those ears were not created by any chance coming together of atoms in nature (the Communist view). They could have been created only by immense design.” The thought was involuntary and unwanted. I crowded it out of my mind. But I never wholly forgot it or the occasion. I had to crowd it out of my mind. If I had completed it, I should have had to say: Design presupposes God. I did not then know that, at that moment, the finger of God was first laid upon my forehead.

Unless you’re a parent you have no idea what these feelings for your little children are like. It’s the purest emotional love imaginable. I see it in my daughter now as she beams when she’s with them, holding them, or even talking about them. It’s so incredibly special to see this experienced in the next generation, to relate to exactly how she’s feeling, and also, sadly, how fleeting it is.

The Depressing Passage of Time
This is another huge and inevitable difference between being a parent and a grandparent. When you’re in the middle of raising children, you have no clue how fast it goes. You catch glimpses of it, of course, but nothing prepares you for the thief that is time. It steals our lives from us once second at a time and we don’t even realize it until we find it impossible to believe. Where did it go? How did I get here so quickly? The birth of a child, as any grandparent can tell you, seems like a hundred years ago and yesterday at the same time! It’s crazy, and only those getting closer to the end than the beginning can fathom its mystery, an unsolvable one. As Augustine said, everyone knows what time is, but when asked to describe it, we’re rendered mute.

The mystery of time and its passage is an obsession with me, as anyone who knows me will tell you. After our first grandchild was conceived, I turned to my wife and said, “In the year 2,100 she’ll be 78!” and she replied, reasonably, “Can you just let her be born first?” Good point. Well, that little one is now well on her way to 2,100, and she only has 74 years to go! Be here before ya know it! Now she’s as cute as a button, an impossibly cuteness cute. It just rips your heart out. The is where parents and grandparents are on the same page. Your grandkids are clearly the most adorable on the playground; isn’t it obvious! But her already being four is a reminder of how swiftly time is moving along. Now a little girl, before you know it she’ll be a teenager, and then a grown woman. It makes our daughter sad, a common feeling among parents, maybe more for mothers than fathers.

We have neighbors who have two boys who walk to and from the bus stop every day during the school year; I’ve been watching them for six years. One morning I was outside with our grandkids while my wife stopped by the house with them on the way to the park. The youngest of the two boys and his mother were passing on the way to the bus stop, and I said to the mom, “Wow, he’s becoming a little man!” and she replied, “I know! And it makes me so sad.” Welcome to the club! You want to capture time in a bottle like Jim Croce sang, to hold on to these moments forever, but they slip away as if like a child on the playground taunting you.

I’m reminded of this every day. A couple years ago we got this thing called a Frame, which is basically a slideshow within a picture frame. As we’re walking around the house, in and out of the backyard, closing and opening the nearest window, we see on the rolling display a kind of kaleidoscope of our lives, years or decades passing as one picture slides into the next. When I see our kids as children or teenagers, the family on memorable trips, more than once I’ve turned to my wife and said, “That’s depressing.” She agrees. Even though old people, like I am now, try to warn us when we’re young how quickly it goes, to appreciate it now because before you know it . . . . , we have no idea until it happens.

Solomon in Ecclesiastes says that God has put eternity into the heart of man, which is why we get sad when we begin to realize just how fleeting life is. We want to somehow capture forever these moments in bottle, and we know we can’t: the wages of sin . . . . In that sadness we perceive something of the reality of eternal life which in this “body of death,” as Paul calls it, we can’t have. But thanks be to God! As he also says, we will have it, and one day will be, as John tells us, where there is “no more death or mourning or crying or pain” for the old order of things will have passed away, praise God! Right now, this longing for eternity, as C.S. Lewis said about all human longing and desires, implies there is something existing that will fulfill it. That sure hope is what allows us not to be consumed by our sadness, and enjoy those fleeting moments God has so graciously granted us.

Mind Over Matter is Not a Cliché: Living as the Image of God

Mind Over Matter is Not a Cliché: Living as the Image of God

One of the most powerful things in the world is the human mind. God created a marvel of inconceivable engineering that produces a phenomenon going well beyond the mere matter of the machine running it, the brain. These two things, the immaterial mind and the material brain, have been a topic of much debate in the history of modern philosophy. Or how is it that an immaterial mind interacts with a material brain. Atheist/materialist philosophers, those who believe only the material exists, believe the mind is the brain, or it is merely the mechanical processes of the brain accounting for what we call the mind. Yet, the thing this mind creates or reflects, consciousness, appears to be far more than the sum of its parts. Atheist philosopher, Thomas Nagel wrote a short book titled, Mind & Cosmos, to grapple with this issue and concludes it is impossible for the mere matter of the mind to account for consciousness. Here is how he explains the issue:

Even if there is a residual problem of exactly how to account for consciousness in physical terms, the orthodox naturalistic (materialist) view is that biology is in principle completely explained by physics and chemistry, and that evolutionary psychology provides a rough idea of how everything distinctive about human life can also be regarded as an extremely complicated consequence of the behavior of physical particles in accordance with certain fundamental laws. This will ultimately include an explanation of the cognitive capacities that enable us to discover those laws.

Shazam! How convenient, and all this by chance. As I taught my kids growing up, and will now be teaching our grandchildren, when confronted with something insanely complex and amazing beyond human comprehension to grasp, they should proclaim out loud, Praise Chance! It’s a sly way to mock the pretensions of atheist/materialist claims.

Nagel raises the difficult question of where those “fundamental laws” came from, not to mention the material stuff that for no reason at all turned into the “extremely complicated” brain that somehow magically produces mind, or consciousness. Nagel admits the atheist/materialist has no answer in the subtitle of his book: “Why the materialist neo-Darwinian conception of nature is almost certainly false.” Yet, Nagel is still an atheist! As I like to say, wanting to be your own God is a powerful motivator to deny the obvious.

One of the powerful aspects of apologetics, defending the veracity of Christianity, is called explanatory power, what best explains something, or is the most potent explanation for something. What Nagel is saying is that the atheist/materialist explanation for the brain, and the entire cosmos, is extremely weak. Yet he still rejects the obvious explanation, Almighty God. Whenever I have difficulty believing this whole God things is true, wondering if life after death is real, if the resurrection of the dead is actually going to happen, I look outside. That causes me to think to myself, or say out loud, there is absolutely no way the universe and the world and everything in it is a product of chance. Impossible! We must always consider the alternative when we’re wondering and doubting. Something has to be true. Either it is God who created everything, or nothing “created” everything out of nothing for no reason at all. In the title of the book by Norm Geisler and Frank Turek, I Don’t Have Enough Faith to be An Atheist.

There are several ways we can see and experience the evidence of how powerful the mind is specifically because we’re made in God’s image. We’ll address a couple of those below.

Mind Over Matter: Being Made in God’s Image
The Imago Dei, Latin for the image of God, is why our minds have such incredible power. Our minds are in some derivative way analogous, and similar to, God’s mind. It’s crazy trying to wrap our minds around the truth of that statement, but until we do, we’ll tend to think like the atheist/materialist, that the mind is simply a function of molecules and cells and synapses. We’ll miss the incredible spiritual, immaterial power the mind and consciousness have over the material world even though the evidence is all around us. What do I mean by power?

To give us the answer in a biblical sense we’ll look at the Apostle Paul who uses the word power three times in Romans 1. First let’s look at the Greek word Paul uses, δύναμις-dunamis. It’s the word from which we get our English, dynamite. The extended meaning from Strong’s is helpful:

force (literally or figuratively); specially, miraculous power (usually by implication, a miracle itself) — ability, abundance, meaning, might(-ily, -y, -y deed), (worker of) miracle(-s), power, strength, violence, mighty (wonderful) work.

Each use of the word is related to God. First in verse 4, he tells us God appointed Jesus in or with power to be the Son of God by his resurrection from the dead. Christ by the power of God defeated death, something that has haunted human beings since the fall, all of whom despise, hate, and fear it, and know it’s wrong, that somehow it shouldn’t be. God by his power took care of it, Christ being the first fruits, as Paul says in I Corinthians 15, and then the rest of us to follow in the resurrection.

Next Paul declares the gospel is “the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes.” Our salvation from sin, our reconciliation to God, is a spiritual resurrection of going from being dead in sin to alive in Christ by the power of God. The physical reality of God’s bringing Jesus back to life is manifested in a spiritual reality of the resurrection of our souls, the center of our being. The reason the New Covenant is better than the Old according to Jeremiah (chapter 31), is that the law is no longer stuck on tablets of stone, but God himself now in Christ puts his law in our minds and writes it on our hearts. That supernatural spiritual reality now reflects itself out into the material world through us.

Lastly Paul uses the word power related to God’s creative power in the material world.

20 For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so they are without excuse.

The very essence of God’s divinity, his God-ness, can be seen in every material thing he created which as we know from Genesis he created out of nothing—now that is power! All he had to do was speak, and it was. Speaking of Abraham in Roman 4, Paul says in verse 16:

He is our father in the sight of God, in whom he believed—the God who gives life to the dead and calls into being things that were not.

The ESV translates that last clause as, “who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist.” You can’t get more powerful than that! And while we can’t call things into existence that don’t exist, because we are made in God’s image, we can take the raw material he’s given us and transform it into new and marvelous things.

Mind Over Matter: Transforming the World
When I use the phrase, “mind over matter,” I mean that literally. Our minds are above matter, over it, superior to it. We, contrary to the atheist/materialist, are not the same as matter, merely a function of matter, but superior to it in a way the whole is superior to the sum of its parts. You can take the parts of a car and put them in a pile, but you’re not going to have a car. In a similar manner, our brains when put together by God produce something superior to just the material parts making up our brains. This was the plan from the beginning. When God created man, male and female he created them, he set them over his creation, to rule and have dominion over it, to fill the earth and subdue it. Got gave them the raw material, something out of nothing, now they were to take that and make something out of everything.

This was a slow process, but started happening right from the beginning, and often in ways that did not result in blessing. Early in the story, the people God had created built a tower, not in humility and gratitude to God, but to in effect be like God, so that “nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them.” After God “scattered them over the face of the whole earth,” they built cities and places they could live that would protect them from the dangers of the wilderness and other peoples. This was just the beginning of the dominion mandate being fulfilled, most of it, however, not in humility and to the glory of the creator God. For that, God chose one man out of all the peoples of the earth through whom blessing would come to all those peoples. We know him as Abraham, and the people he gave birth to, the Hebrews.

The transformation process of this fallen world, paradise lost, would take 2,000 years before it could really begin in earnest and the possibility of paradise being restored become a reality. Unfortunately, the mindset of most Christians is Pietistic, otherworldly, focused more on heaven than on this material world. That, however, is a mistake. The gospel wasn’t an escape project from this world, but a transformation project of it.

The contrast of the earth and the peoples in it from BC to AD is stark, from law to gospel, from the letter to the spirit. Everything spiritually changed, man now reconciled to God, when Christ accomplished his mission and was coronated as King sitting at the right hand of God. The day he poured out his Spirit at Pentecost everything then materially changed. In other words, man’s spiritual transformation in his relationship to God would be manifest in the material world on this earth. Initially, it wasn’t apparent how radical that transformation would prove to be in passage of time, but the change was like coming across Mount Everest in a desert. The ancient world was a brutal place where the primary goal of existence was survival. In moral terms, might made right. Whoever had the biggest sword or the biggest army determined right and wrong, and there was no appeal to anything higher, no recourse to challenge the powerful. This unpalatable fact of existence was why so many of the poor and powerless were attracted to Christianity in the early centuries of the church—now their lives counted. They were no longer cogs to be ground down in a pitiless machine. Slowly, surely, inevitably, Christianity changed everything.

Mind Over Matter: The Body
The power of the mind over matter can also been seen in the material that makes up our bodies; the connection is a powerful one. The human body is an almost infinitely complex system that works in response to our environment, which includes our mind’s control over our bodies, again the immaterial controlling of the material. Most of that happens without our being aware of it, which is called the autonomic nervous system and is driven by the brain. But our minds, our conscious thoughts, can override the system as well, for good and for ill.

I have a good example of how this works from when I was in college. I went to Arizona State University, and my parents and little brother came to visit one time, and we went to the Grand Canyon. My dad decided we would take a ride on donkeys down a trail to the bottom of the canyon, and it was terrifying. I’ll never forget being on that donkey with a cliff to our immediate right, and it must have been hundreds of feet down. I could see the donkeys in front of me stepping within inches of the edge, and I asked the guide if it was dangerous. He said, “They don’t want to fall any more than you.” That was definitely not comforting. My stomach was gurgling all the way down, and I barely made it to the outhouse and immediately lost 10 pounds. I don’t think I’ll do that again! It was my mind driven by fear that caused my intestines to do what they did—that is mind over matter.

Our bodies are a marvel of divine engineering meant to respond to perceived threats in our environment, to stress or danger. We have adrenal glands that produce two hormones that flow into our bodies when we’re confronted by a threat, adrenaline and cortisol. These threats, like riding on donkeys on a narrow path, can be real, or just a figment of our imagination. For the guides who had probably done that trip down hundreds of times, there was no fear, and no need of an outhouse when they got to the bottom. There was no actual threat, but my fear was very real. Mind over matter means it doesn’t matter, no pun intended, if the threat is real or not, the response of the adrenal glands will happen anyway.

These hormones and our bodies that produce them are di. With adrenaline, our pupils dilate to let more light in to better see our surroundings. Our skin turns pale as blood vessels receive a signal to divert blood to areas more in need of our blood’s oxygen, such as our muscles, so we can fight or run away. Our heart pumps harder and faster to deliver more oxygenated blood to areas most in need, like our muscles, and our blood pressure also increases. It even affects our liver where stored glycogen is converted to glucose to provide more energy. Our breathing changes to help accomplish all these things as well. Our minds perceive threat, and all this happens immediately.

After adrenaline does its job, the hormone cortisol continues to respond to perceived stress in our environment or in us. Whether the threat is real or not, the result is the same, adrenal glands pouring cortisol into our bloodstream. When these are needed, they can be lifesaving, when they are not, they can be health destroying. Panic attacks are something I have a little experience with, and it’s disturbing what happens to your heart rate when you think something is wrong. Fear will do that to us. Or if we have something we have to prepare for, and little time to do it, stress and thus cortisol does its thing. For a limited time that’s okay, but living in perpetual stress or anxiety will mess up our bodies.

The good news is that God has given us the power of our minds over matter. We don’t have to live in constant stress because we can trust God. Jesus commands us not to worry, or to be anxious. Paul commands us not to be anxious about anything, which means we can trust God with everything in our lives, every moment of every day. The great struggle of my life is whether I trust God or not. My favorite verse in this regard comes from Isaiah 26:

You will keep in perfect peace
him whose mind is steadfast,
because he trusts in you.

Perfect peace is possible, but only in Christ, knowing God’s perfect love for us, and goodness to us, in all things. That is the path to true mental, emotional, and physical health.