In light of the conversation I’ve been having with Jean and others about a previous post, and also in light of thinking a little recently about change (sparked, in particular, by reviewing a course dealing with porn addiction, and also by reading Tim Chester’s You can change), I feel a strong desire to write again about defensiveness and the work of the Holy Spirit.
Let me say up-front that I always find this tricky to get right. The Holy Spirit is sovereign, and does his own work in his own time irresistibly (e.g. John 3:1-8). Yet the Scriptures also call on us to be responsible and not to grieve the Spirit (Eph 4:30). How to make sense of this in every detail I am not quite sure. What I am sure of is that the Spirit, who gave us both these passages, speaks through the New Testament to remind me regularly to live wholeheartedly for righteousness—whether in the injunction to put off the old man (Col 3) or the reminder to listen obediently when he speaks (Heb 3-4). While I cannot always make sense of the tension, the Spirit leaves me in no doubt about what I should do with it: listen when he speaks and walk where he leads.
But what I find often happens is that I hear the word of God and I feel the old clench in my stomach. God is asking me to do something that grates against my personality—something that I’m going to find uncomfortable. It’s always at around about this time that the rationalizations begin. There are lots of possibilities, aren’t there—for example, the preacher hasn’t really understood the passage, or that applies to another part of the body; all the arms out there need to hear that, but I’m a foot. But I think what I experience most of all is fear—fear that this is going to be hard—that I will try and fail—and so it’s easier to find an excuse. What do I need to do? I need to preach the gospel to myself again.
What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? (Rom 8:31-32).
What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him! (Luke 11:11-13).
And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified. (Rom 8:28-30).
God has declared his love for me and his commitment to my good in ways that I can never fathom or hope to match in my response to him. He has given me his own Son unto death, and his Spirit to dwell in my heart to transform me and bring to work in me the power of the resurrection. Why on earth, then, do I respond to his word by self-protection and self-deception? Why do I fear the pain that putting this word into practice will bring if I can be certain of God’s intention in the pain to make me like Jesus? Yep, I definitely need to hear the gospel again (and again and again and again). When God asks me to change me life, it’s for my good. Why would I ever doubt this?
