I Can Do It!

I confess: I like coffee. No . . . I LOVE coffee. When I was a kid, I used to wonder why my parents kept a pot on the stove all the time (obviously before Keurig) and were constantly pouring another cuppa. But having become a man and put away childish things, I now have a deep appreciation for that black stuff. My morning routine, without fail, includes a very early trip to the kitchen for my wake-up jolt. Then I am set, eyes wide open, senses charged, brain in gear, ready for the day.

I have another morning routine that took me years to habituate but brings me great joy. I take that cup of coffee to my favorite chair, open my Bible, and read and pray. It’s so wonderful to draw close to God in the morning while it’s still quiet in my life. Afterwards, I often feel like I have recharged my spiritual batteries and am ready to face the challenges of the day. God’s talked to me and I have talked to Him. Yes! That’s what I need to get Him to bless me all day long, right? Wrong!

While there is nothing improper about having a quiet time alone with God first thing in the morning—in fact it is refreshing to the soul and vital to spiritual growth—it is wrong to see that practice as a morning dose of spiritual caffeine. The mental trajectory goes something like this: “Ok, I have checked that off the list, a requirement to be met so that I can be right with God and he will make the day go better.”

There are serious problems with that line of thought, and no doubt very little reflection is needed to see them. The greatest flaw has to do with its twisted approach to sanctification, the idea that I can be holy by doing stuff (like “having morning devotions”). I can get up early enough, I can make time for this act, I can maintain this regimen habitually, God must be very pleased with me and my “work” for Him in this way. Now, this is actually quite subtle, because it uses such a wonderfully blessed practice and turns it into a work, a good mark, a badge of distinction to make me feel holy.

The upstart is that, with this attitude toward Christian living, I become the effective one, the worker, the one who gets the job done. Even though I give lip service to trusting in God, my confidence really is in myself—I am doing this. The sad fact is that I can extend this line of thought to just about any really good, profitable, kingdom-oriented activity such as witnessing, giving, serving the poor, going to church, or helping my neighbor. The moment I begin to evaluate any of those in terms of what I am doing and how God must be pleased with me, I mentally put God in debt to me, making Him owe me what I want (e.g. an easy day).

But what happens when things don’t go well? What if His plans for me that day include some discomfort, some disappointment, even some suffering? “God, you are letting me down. I’ve had my time with you this morning, I read the Bible and prayed. I even spent an extra 15 minutes reading two more chapters. Why are you doing this to me?” I become frustrated with God and miss some greater plan he has for my life, a plan that does not necessarily make things easy for me. My self-sufficiency is challenged, my joy is sapped, and disappointment sets in. If I don’t change my thinking, eventually I become cynical and gradually, little by little, draw further away from God. Dryness, dreariness, apathy set in.

How do I avoid this approach? After all, it is so natural, so ingrained in us all to look within ourselves for all the fortitude we need to succeed in life. But the Word of God gives us a radically different viewpoint, one which is counterintuitive. Consider for instance the Apostle Paul. He was remarkably prepared to be one of the greatest, most dynamic and effective leaders Christianity has ever seen. So I get up early to spend time with God. But, have I preached to thousands who have never heard the gospel? Have I been imprisoned for my faith? Have I suffered beatings and shipwrecks? I have I started numerous churches? Has God spoken so directly to me that I have seen heavenly visions and had his Word given through me? That’s pretty heady stuff, and God was determined to keep Paul from getting too full of himself.

2 Corinthians 12:7-10 tells of Paul’s struggles along this line, as God so irrationally limited this choice servant, giving him a “thorn” in his flesh. The great lesson this brought to Paul, the very one that will turn our religious works into genuine kingdom service, is that everything depends upon God. He is the one who does the work through us. “When I am weak, then I am strong.” Other places, Paul expressed it like this, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

In a recent message, my pastor quoted from an email he received from one of our fellow church members who has obviously wrestled with this same issue. He wrote:

I wanted to comment on an understanding I have come to hold more clearly that has helped me to grow in apprehension of the love of Christ and his goodness for me. It was frustrating for me to think that I could be a Christian and struggle so much in this area. I had the impression that it was much easier for others and that I was somehow messed up, compounding the problem. In my struggle I was especially aware of all my failings but not able to experience the fruit of the Gospel. It did not seem to matter how much I heard it or read it or prayed about it. But God worked slowly over years.

One passage that helped me was 2 Cor. 12:9-10. I understood that my weakness brought me to a point of utter dependency and that was turned into a real strength. [It] seems obvious in retrospect, and something I had always known but the difference was that it was revealed to me in a deep way at a heart level. I further understood that to ‘progress’ I had to stay right there-utterly dependent on Christ for all. I cannot will to do or do his will of my own will, but only in his power can I do anything.

Upon reflection, I realized I had been influenced by our Western/Macho/American ‘get-er-done’ culture, to my detriment. I have been having conversations with others about this and see so many aspiring to holiness apart from Christ . . . without knowing it. I now think of sanctification as the process of drawing more and more dependent on Christ for everything we think, do and are.”

This line of dependent thinking should not only drive our personal lives, it must also be central to how we “do ministry.” At Westlake Christian Academy, we are surrounded by talented, dedicated faculty and staff, all of whom, from a human standpoint, are quite capable. In fact, God has blessed me myself with an array of talents, training, and experience. And so we are tempted to press on in our flesh, attempting to do spiritual warfare with mere earthly weapons. But we must resist this impulse at all costs. We must constantly be drawing near to God’s throne to find his grace to help us, for we are desperately in need. However successful or prosperous we become, we are always in his debt, not the other way around. Those who are acquainted with our ministry have heard this reminder time and time again: pray, pray, pray.