Saturday Reflection on….Depravity?
One of the issues that keeps coming
up in our Saturday morning men’s group concerns our utter inability to win
God’s favor/ deserve God’s grace/ by our own power make something of ourselves/
or somehow work stuff out righteously/ sanctimoniously/ religiously and have it
all together and be one cool righteous dude in God’s eyes. (I’ve tried to put a few variations of the
same theme together here). Is it
necessary, helpful or useful to be constantly reminded of our fallen nature in
order to keep our egos in check? I’m
going to venture this: It may be
helpful to some, but not helpful to others, depending on where they are coming
from. I have found that a preoccupation
with my own depravity doesn’t empower me in my faith journey.
Years
ago, when I was a kid, I didn’t have a huge problem with having a big ego. I also did not have a lot of negative role
modeling in my life. I did not attend a church where I saw
a lot of hypocritical bigots or arrogant bastards who sanctimoniously strutted
their self-righteousness before my eyes as they jockeyed for position in
whatever social situation that floated their boat. I didn’t have a huge ego that needed to be
knocked down a few steps. Most egos
revolved around prowess on the ball field.
I was a scrawny, severely myopic, asthmatic introverted non-athlete, who
read fantasy for fulfillment. That
about summed me up. When I came to
embrace the gospel message, the Holy Spirit didn’t need to drum it through my
head that I wasn’t going to be winning God’s favor through my own efforts. I didn’t need to be told I was a worm, a
toad, a jerk, or any other form of a loser in order to be aware of my spiritual
need for Jesus. I had been shown all my
life what the merciful, loving nature of a father was like through my own
earthly father. When I transferred that
partial understanding of love to the greatest and prime source of all LOVE, I
got it, I understood it, I was transformed by it. And so began a life of faith in which Jesus
gradually, lovingly brought me out of being a mere introverted dreamer to
someone who could participate in God’s good work.
G. K.
Chesterton once wrote: “One can hardly think too little of one’s self. One can hardly think too much of one’s
soul.” This is a paradoxical truth: our own precious egos are dross, excrement,
refuse fit for fire; yet our souls are worth dying for by the Author of All
Existence and Creator of All Glory.
These two ways of looking at our human nature are vital, and the balance
must be maintained. But there are
tricky ways we can fall into the trap of thinking too much of our selves,
whether positively or negatively. To go
about bemoaning your own worm-hood or toadiness, or jerk-osity really doesn’t
bring any glory to God. It’s still
self-focused. Whether on the one hand
you think of yourself as an asshole, fool, jerk, loser, worm, or maggot, or on
the other hand you think of yourself as an Adonis, Apollo, God’s gift to
mankind and the ladies, or as one totally righteous dude, you still are
thinking of yourself too much. Where
then is the salvation from this self-obsession? It is in this: To let Jesus get on with the
job He’s best at: healing you from
whatever has kept you in the prison of your own ego. Become the member of the body of Christ He
wants you to be. Take up the duty of
performing the functions the Body of Christ needs you to do. Stop excusing yourself for doing too poorly
or boasting you’re doing it most excellently: just bear the fruits of the Spirit that God intends
you to bear. No, of course not: it
isn’t particularly awesome of you to do good works (as if you somehow did it on
your own). But it is expected that we
will cooperate with the Head of the Body and work out our salvation and sanctification with fear
and trembling. “For we are God’s
workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
(Eph. 2:10). The more one looks away from the mirror and
gets on with keeping one’s eyes on Jesus, the more one forget it’s actually
himself on the journey. This
self-forgetfulness (in the best sense of the word) is a kind of freedom.
I
shared this morning that I believe God is easy to please, just hard to
satisfy. What I mean is this: God takes pleasure in us. After all we are His creation. He is pleased with the most insignificant
step we take away from our mirrors of either self-recrimination or
self-idolization. He is pleased when we
utter thanks, express love, and feel
enjoyment while walking through a forest or strolling barefoot on a beach. Yet He will hardly be satisfied with the work
He is doing within us and through us until we reach maturity, the fullness of
the stature of Christ. (Ephesians 4:13) God very much intends that we bear fruit
worthy of the gospel. To focus on our
fallen-ness or foolishness means we
haven’t moved on with things. Aren’t we
saying that God isn’t a very good Savior if we are still wallowing in our own
sin? Doesn’t Jesus save us from our sins? If we’re still obsessed with our
sinfulness, then he certainly hasn’t separated our sins very far from us, has
He? You see what I mean? Although it may seem like this a correct
self-deprecating acknowledgment of one’s own depravity, it really is cowardice
and avoidance of the clarion call of a victorious Savior: Either He is your Lord and Savior and
General, and is effectively leading you out of sin, or He’s not very good at
it. You see? When we wallow in our sins, decades after
receiving Christ as our Savior, we insult Him.
We mock our Lord. We aren’t
giving Him glory. We’re saying: “You
see, it didn’t work. I’m still a
worm.” And that is devil talk. Satan smack. We need to proclaim: “Enough of it,
already!”
We are
meant for GLORY. We ARE empowered to
work wonders, encourage the downtrodden, bring hope to the hopeless, feed the
hungry, visit the sick, hug the children, be “answers to prayers” in difficult
situations, preach good news, give thanks in all things, and marvel at God’s
good Creation. And by golly, I’ve seen
it replayed over and over in our congregation.
I SEE IT weekly, if not daily.
The hurting are tenderly cared for, the hungry are fed, the disheartened
are encouraged, the friendless are befriended, the sick are healed, and the
broken-hearted find hope and joy, right here in McMinnville. We are a New Creation. The old is dead, the new has come.
