As I’ve grown older and God has mercifully continued to work his amazing process of sanctification in me, I’ve realized the number one sin of my existence has nothing to do with morality. It’s easy for Christians, me included, to fall into the trap of thinking conformity to external moral standards is proof of sanctification. In reality, that is only tangentially true. What Jesus transformed in our redemption and accomplished on the cross is what Paul called “the inner man” (2 Cor. 4:16, Eph. 3:16. Rom. 7:22,23). This was a radical change from everything that came before because until Jesus, religion was about external conformity, not inner transformation. That is still the case, and a temptation for every Christian. I heard Tim Keller say once that every human being is by nature “religious,” meaning we naturally think favor with God is earned by moral performance. In fact, the gospel often terrifies us. Which is why the gospel is so counter intuitive to us, and the greatest news ever.
As I’ve learned this truth, I’ve realized my real sin issue is trust, or the lack thereof. That is, my greatest sin is that I don’t trust God. This manifests itself in all kinds of deleterious ways. When Paul says, for example, that Christ is my righteousness, do I really believe that (i.e., trust him). Or do I look at my pathetic attempts to live up to the greatest commandment, to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, strength, and mind. The former brings peace, the latter frustration, guilt, and despair. Or beyond theology to life, when “stuff” happens, do I trust him. This is especially hard because like most people I tend to define my life by circumstances. Good circumstances, good life. No hassles, no worries, no challenges, I’m happy. Actually, I stopped believing that quite a while ago, but it’s always a temptation. Over time as I’ve come up against what I’ve come to call “trust challenges,” God has impressed upon me a verse from Isaiah 26:3 that doesn’t leave much wiggle room when it comes to trusting in him:
You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.
If I trust in God I will have perfect peace; if I don’t have perfect peace, I don’t trust God. See what I mean about wiggle room? It’s almost Manichean, either/or, one or the other, no in between, because, well, it is one or the other. Not the Christian heresy of Mani, but a stark dichotomy of human psychology where two opposite states of mind cannot coexist; either we trust, or we do not trust. And we know which is which in our relationship to God if we have perfect peace, or not; there is no almost perfect peace.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been really good at this whole perfection thing. Hey, it’s not my fault! I was born this way. I find that when challenges come up in my life, which is quite often, I’m tempted to not trust God. So, when something especially challenging came up not too long ago, I realized the either/or nature of trust, and strangely enough Isaiah 26:3 became a great comfort instead of a verse that mocked my inability to trust him. I was acutely aware that I had a choice; did I want to fret and worry and wonder what could possibly, maybe happen, or just not worry about it. Obey Jesus, or not. I felt a certain kind of agency, that I had the ability to trust because it was such a stark choice.
As I considered this, I thought to myself, how do I measure up when the trust challenge comes along? Do I trust him or not? Am I going to worry about tomorrow, or the next 15 minutes for that matter? Do I really believe he is the sovereign Almighty God of all reality? Do I fully buy into Romans 8:28, that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose”? Or am I tempted to believe it’s 98 percent. Two percent, and we don’t get perfect peace. I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t say it would be easy; it shouldn’t be. God told Adam because he ate of the tree he told him not to eat that life would be really hard, full of thorns and thistle, painful toil, and the sweat of our brow.
So, when the trust challenge comes, what do we do? I would suggest taking some advice from the Apostle Paul:
6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
The hardest part is thanksgiving. When things aren’t going our way, the last thing we want to do is give thanks. Why in the world would we be thankful for our misery? For suffering, sorrow, or pain? For frustrations and the innumerable petty annoyances in life? The answer is as simple as it is hard, and I’ve learned, the hard way (when I got beyond the typical knee jerk emotional reactions, and worst of all, self-pity) that the most important thing I can do in the face of a trust challenge is give thanks to God. And, there is one important minor fact: we are commanded to! Paul again give us a command, not a suggestions, “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” You want perfect peace, give thanks—in all circumstances. Nothing is more honoring to God, and I should not have to explain to any Christian why.
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