“O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? I thank God—-through Jesus Christ our Lord!…There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus…”
And yet, I’ve been thinking a lot about sin lately. Partly because it’s the New Year and I tend to take deep stock of my life at the end of each 365-day turn of the calendar. How has God worked? Where is warfare necessary to clean up spiritual clutter and debris and re-establish a peaceful, clean, and glad soul? And partly because I have so much of it, sin, that is, and I hate it, though not as much as I want to. I tend to loathe it more in others than I do in myself. I can pinpoint it so easily in my husband and in my children, but when introspecting, I sometimes hurry through and make concessions and justifications and rationalizations for things God definitely abhors. Not the gray. Not the doubtful. The black versus the white. How many times have I asked the Lord to cleanse me, but did not follow with the hard work required for mortification of my flesh? Shallow and quick repentance is fairly easy, but it doesn’t get to the fundamentals of my heart—that it is deceitful and desperately wicked, often bearing false witness to me about my motives—making me proud with self-righteousness. So much so that God says, “Who can know it?” Certainly not I, the one who is sometimes able to be a master of hiding, deceit, refusing to be laid bare before the mirror of God’s Word. I get so weary of it, the doing, the glossing over, the confession, then the replay a few days or even hours later. I can blame it on no one else. It is I—I who chooses to sin instead of submitting to the control of the Spirit. Who will deliver me?
Which all brings me to Romans 8. And to Romans 7 before it. Chapter 7 tells me I’m double-minded about my sin. I have a love-hate relationship with some of my failings. And it tells me that Jesus is the only one who can free me from its mastery. It’s not in my will-power to do this. I’m grandly comforted because, believe me, I’ve tried on my own.
Then comes Romans 8. The pinnacle. It relieves my lingering fears, my doubts, my lack of assurance of being His. It gives me confident hope. It lifts my head, with Paul, to lofty praise for my Savior who frees me, not just from sin’s master/slave relationship but from ever being condemned for it. Because of what He did for me in His perfect life and substitutionary death, He and I now share life, He in me, me in Him. Praise to my Father in heaven who loved me so much He sent His Son to condemn my sin in His own flesh, not in mine. Praise to the blessed Holy Spirit who powerfully enables me to set my mind on Himself and holy things, giving me life and peace and the promise of being raised on the last day. I am no longer in slavery to the sin which deceitfully creeps in as I make, what appears to me in the moment, inconsequential wrong choices here and there. And sometimes the sin seems to charge in, as if unbidden, unannounced, with full fury. But sin is no longer my master, I’m told. I do not need to sin. The Spirit gives power to put to death these sins of the flesh. I need no longer be in dread of my Father. I need not hide nor dress myself in scant fig leaves.
I have been adopted into His family, my heart crying out to my benevolent Father, “Papa!” It is that intimate…that sweet. And when I fail again and again I am told that the Spirit helps me in my weakness, in my sometimes soul agony. Even when my lips fail me with words, I am told He intercedes for me with groanings too deep to utter.
The thing about true love is that it will not endure rivals. Sin is the enemy to true love on both sides. First, God, who loves and is jealous for His own children whom He has chosen, will not allow us to continue in iniquity because it displaces Him in our lives. He who is utterly sinless must reign supreme. Second, we ourselves will not keep allowing sin as the direction, the practice of our lives because that would signify we do not belong to the Savior. It is antithetical to whom we are. “For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law, indeed it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God. You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to Him.” Praise God for the tension in me when sin rears its ugly head for it is a proof of my sonship. The Spirit in me creates that agitation, grants godly sorrow and repentance, cleanses and preserves me for the Father and the Son. (Study 1 John for more on this.)
Half the time I do not know “the why” of the Lord allowing these struggles of my heart, but I’m promised that no matter what His design, what the particular lesson to be learned, even in my sin, He is the Always Good, it is for my good, making me more like Jesus than the last struggle effected. Why? He chose me to be His daughter in eternity, He called me to Himself in time and space, He made me right with Himself, and He will make me fully pure and perfectly holy when transitory earthly life ends and I am ushered into His presence. He is readying me for eternity with Him, cleansing me, changing me, making me more and more into the image of His Son.
“What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?” He won’t bring any charge against us. He won’t condemn us for our sin. After all, “Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Nothing, nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. We are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, not things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Not even our sin, if we are His. God has set us free because He was satisfied with His dear Son’s life and death in our place. He took our sin and God’s wrath. In exchange, we wear His white robes of righteousness.
I still get frustrated. I still confess my sins. I weary of my weakness and imperfect love for my Savior, depleting me of the joy of my secure fellowship with Him—and so I ask Him to give me strength and conviction and discernment to notice the “little foxes” creeping into my heart which, if left unchecked, will eat me up. I repent more quickly and deeply. I take steps to avoid the pitfalls which lunge me into my favorite sins. I work hard to stop sinning, knowing that it is God who is working in me to even want to stop falling short of His glory, of grieving Him, and giving me the power to change lest I think transformation is from me. (Philippians 2:12-13) I pray for Him to overwhelm me with His love and patience and preserving power on my behalf, assured that nothing will separate me from His love. And because He will never condemn me due to my status in His Son, I desire to not sin. I want to please Him and put Him on display in my life as an evidence of gratitude and love.
We are “more than conquerors”, says Paul, when we are born again. More than? “Super conquerors”, says one pastor. He gives power through Christ to overcome our sin, our distresses, outward onslaughts, inward stresses and temptations, and keeps us for Himself, never, ever to be lost.
Tell someone what great things He has done for you.
Soli Deo Gloria
Love,
Cherry
“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me bless His holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits—Who forgives all your iniquities…Who redeems your life from destruction, and crowns you with loving kindness and tender mercies, Who satisfies you with good so your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.” (Psalm 103:1-5)