GospelDrivenLife

Introspection, Self-suspicion, and the Death of Joy, 3

In my readings today, a wonderful word from Tozer on introspection and joylessness:

While we are looking at God we do not see ourselves -- blessed riddance.  The man who has struggled to purify himself and has had nothing but repeated failures will experience real relief when he stops tinkering with his soul and looks away to the Perfect One.  (Pursuit of God)

Now that, in a few words, is what I have been trying to say in many.

Introspection, Self-suspicion, and the Death of Joy, 2.

Introspection has been a battle in my life for many years.  It may seem strange to call it a battle, but it is.  Why?

When I read the New Testament I do not read an introspective document. When I read the New Testament I do not read a sin focused document. When I read the New Testament I do not read a self-focused, self-serious document.

Clearly the apostles call Christians to put sin to death in light of Christ's work and their union with him. Clearly God calls us to identify sins of words, behavior, and heart that rise in our lives and to put them to death. Clearly we are to put on Christ -- to displace the sins of Adam with the beauty of Christ.

Introspection is a form of self-exploration that looks godly.  It looks godly because it is a quest for sin and sinful motives.  But introspection is self-focused.  Introspection is self-reliant.  Introspection can become all consuming.

What seems to be the pattern for godliness in the NT is identifying visible sinful behavior and sinful motives that can be seen relatively quickly. Paul tells the Philippians that they are to walk by the light they have, and God will reveal more to them as they walk (3:12-16).  This means that the normal Christian progress in putting off sin and putting on righteousness looks more like a walk into brighter and brighter light -- and by means of the Word and fellowship seeing specific marks of the old man that only become evident as the light gets brighter.

Let me give an analogy.  I have a garden behind our house.  In that garden are plants I want there and plants I do not want there.  The ones I do not want are called weeds.  At any time, there is a vast array of weeds germinating beneath the surface of the soil.  But I wait for them to appear, then I pull them out root and all, to the best ability of what I can see.  That is normal growth for the Christian -- my heart is active with sin, and in certain circumstances the depths of my heart's motives sprout in a sin that is obvious to me or to those around me.  At that time I identify the weed and its root, and pull it.

Introspection is a relentless digging for the seeds and early development of weeds below the surface.  Introspection if digging up a spade full of soil and combing through it to find any trace of weeds.  And then to dig up the next.  And the next.  

Sadly, some take Paul's exhortation to examine ourselves before the Lord's Supper as a matter of spade work in our hearts.  Sadly I for years thought that this kind of digging and examination is what it meant to keep my heart, to put sin to death.  I no longer think so.

I am to look to Christ, live in his grace each day.  As i walk through the day, with the Spirit at work in me and sin at work as well, I will sin.  Sometimes the sin is obvious (yelling at the kids), sometimes it is subtle (an angry edge to my voice), sometimes it is apparent only in my thoughts (engaging in a mental argument with someone).  I do not always see my sin even when it is in the daylight.  I need the help of others to see and identify the sin so I can apply Christ to it. 

What does this look like?  It is one situation at a time. Suppose I become angry with my kids and my wife points this out to me.  I see it.  We discuss it and with a little help see that the root of the anger was the kids interrupted my peace and quiet.  I wanted peace and quiet right then. I see the idol of peace and quiet.  I confess it to God, to my kids, ask their forgiveness, and move on.  I m amazed at grace once more.

BUT I AM NOT to start looking for all the ways a love of peace and quiet affects me at every other time in my life.  I am not to call for my wife to have an hour long conversation about all the other idols she sees in my life.  As a matter of fact, it is even OK just to confess to the kids that I spoke sinfully to them.  I may not have time right them to evaluate motive. 

What of these two examples?  The first is self-judgment before God, the latter is introspection.  I am learning to walk in the light and allow sin to become apparent.  I am learning not to turn my eyes inward to explore the cave of my heart.  Rather, I am exploring the depths of Christ's glory.

Introspection, Self-suspicion, and the Death of Joy, 1

Truth is a very dangerous thing in the hands of sinners.  Examples abound, but one of particular relevance to me is a robust doctrine of sin. 

True, if we understand the deceitfulness of sin and its constant working in our lives, it affects how we live the Christian life. There are two clear implications:

1. I may not see the motive of my life so clearly after a quick glance --all a man's ways are clean in his own eyes.
2. Self-suspicion is a legitimate application of this doctrine.

But, seeking to discern the deceitfulness of the heart can become a snare and a trap.  And self-suspicion can be a form of self-righteousness and self-atonement.  Let me explain.

First, it is a snare.  If I understand the nature of the human heart, it is complex and deep.  I am not merely a chemical organism.  I am not behaviorally programmed protoplasm.  I am active -- my inner world is always stirring -- and many of those stirring are beyond my conscious awareness.

What sort of metaphor describes this? I have one. Think "cave" and by that I mean the incredibly complex set of subterranean passages some think may even connect to each other over hundreds of miles.  Cave explorers know there is always more to explore.  So it is with our hearts.

The dangers are simple: I tend to believe that the deeper I go the more powerful will be the insight and its effects, and I am inclined to go exploring because I am fascinated by ME even when it is sinful me.  Last, I explore without the right equipment. 

Here is the truth: If I go on a quest for the "deep issues" of my life I will find more and more discoveries of sin.  But there is no "root sin" per se. Sin is too complex and there is not biblical warrant for the idea of finding some root sin that I can address and fix all others.

I am not called to probe and analyze my heart endlessly. If anything the NT is fairly focused on putting obvious and visible sin to death.  It is fine to ask, "what is going on in my heart?" since fear of man, unbelief, bitterness are heart sins.  But once I see the sin, bring it to the cross and stop the search.

Second, it is self-righteousness.  What do I mean by that?  It is a form of seeking perfection -- of commending myself to God. It is the theological equivalent to the quest for a disease free life.  I am seeking to build something which cannot be built.  And it is self atonement -- a form of severe self-analysis that seems virtuous, but is really a dishonor to Christ.

The real danger of the robust doctrine of sin is to apply it outside a robust doctrine of Christ.  The sun of righteousness must shine brightly for me to see my sin clearly.

But what about self-suspicion? Self-suspicion means that I value the help of others in seeing in me what is not evident to me.  I seek their perspective, but even this can become excessive, and ultimately paralyzing. I will never get to the bottom and if I try I will be ensnared.

What I need is not self study, but cross study -- Christ study.  Endless self analysis (hours and hours of allowing friends to put one on the hot-seat of analysis -- hours and hours of self-probing) will lead to joyless, burdened, sad Christian living.  This is where I am tempted to go with a wrong application of the doctrine of sin.

A friend of mine gave me a t-shirt to help me.  On the front is a picture of a heart with a slash through it -- and the phrase "No heart spelunking".  People stop me all the time and ask what that is -- and when I tell them it is the word for exploring a cave, and that I am called to not study myself they walk away puzzled.  But they need to see the backside of the t-shirt -- where it says that the only antidote mighty enough to deal with my troubled conscience, burdened soul, and the accusings of the devil is the Gospel. 

The Pursuit of Joy

It is quite surprising to think that joy is normal for the believer.  It is not an add-on, an optional widget for the desktop of my soul.  Joy is in the deeps of the gospel operating system. 

I have been reading the life of David, the King.  We know more about this man than almost any other ancient king.  He led a colorful and robust life.  He fought battles, engaged in real sword fights, used a slingshot to kill a bear, was the object of multiple assassination plots, was a scorned kid brother, committed premeditated adultery and murder, saw his family fall apart due to incest and revenge and bitterness.  I am not sure I would want to have him over for dinner -- I am afraid I would not be up for the conversation.

But reading the psalms, the heart of David, I see that this life of suffering and sweat and blood and sin was alive to God.  He saw God in everything. He saw God as the One who enabled him to leap over a wall.  He saw God as the one who trained him as an archer.  He knew the stinging rebuke of God for his sin, and the sweet grace of forgiveness.

But what strikes me in all the language of the psalms is the notion of joy.  Call it gladness or singing, David was a man on a quest for God and joy in his God. 

He says in Psalm 3 that he experienced such joy from God that it was greater than the joy of those who win the lottery or whose team wins the Super Bowl (he speaks of abounding grain and new wine, marks of abundance and prosperity).

It occurs to me that I think that the sort of life David lived, the difficulties he faced, the reasons he had for anxiety or guilt or anger -- these would be joy killers.  But there I see David, fleeing for his life, hounded by his enemies, dancing with joy at the grace of God.

Joy is not an option.  Circumstances do not kill joy.  Unbelief does.  Joy is the serious business of the Christian (thanks to CS Lewis for the idea on that one).

90 Days of Joy and the Serious Life

P J O'Rourke was a favorite humorist of my Dad.  He is secular, irreverent, and very pointed -- and he is a man who delights at making light of our seriousness.  One of his book titles is "All the Troubles of the World."  He pokes fun at people who spend their days worrying about the problems of the world, wringing their hands about it, and conveying their burdens to all who will listen.

Humorists like O'Rourke have lots of material to work with -- the current political leader actually told potential voters that "we cannot save our planet alone, we need your help."  Whoa, that is a bit too serious and grandiose.  Save the planet?  We can't even stop the common cold. 

There is appropriate seriousness but there is also seriousness that is a mark of pride.  Our society cultivates people who are serious about themselves -- and the church does too.  One mark of this: people who are so serious about life have very little sense of humor. They are busy doing important things.  How can they smile?  The world is coming apart.  Global warming is going to ruin us all. There is ijustice in the world. We must do something. There is little place for humor. 

Christians too can be too serious. We can be, to use the phrase again, humorless as a chicken.  We can be serious about our lives, our families, gender roles, leadership, the honor of God, and the preservation of the Gospel.  The mark of the overly serious Christian -- no joy.  Another mark -- hand wringing and pontificating about how terrible things are in the church.

I have been reading the story of King David lately.  There is no way one can read that story and walk away taking our selves too seriously. God is at work -- through bronze age warriors, stumbling leadership, and limited people.  The ark of the covenant is taken and we find that God is quite capable of upholding his honor. I would not want any of these people for friends -- but God does. 

The lesson of OT history is that God will accomplish his purposes in the midst of the mess of our lives. He uses us, but we are rusty tools.  We are not that important.

I find I am tempted to be self serious -- to lose all humor and joy.  My inner thought is that there is too much to do, too many problems to solve, too many errors to correct, too much suffering in the world.  I need to be concerned, serious, intentional. 

Woody Allen poked fun at us years ago when he began his commencement address with words along this line: "We stand at the crossroads of human history.  One road takes us into nuclear annihilation.  The other leads into enviromental catastrophe.  We must make a wise choice." I think there is some perspective here for Christians -- we are always creating catastrophes and disasters and then rising up in our self-righteousness to take them on. We are doomsday specialists.

But I am not necessary. A few years ago I faced cancer, with surgery and treatments.  It came at a time of significant need in the church I served.  But I was knocked out of commission. At first I panicked.  How would the church survive without my leadership?  The answer: it did just fine, even prospered, as God did not have cancer and the Holy Spirit was not on medical leave.

Here is where I applied Lewis -- I am not to allow the problems of the world or church or family  blackmail God and joy. I can see many problems in the world.  But the makers of misery must not win and the joy of Christ must prevail.