I spent many years believing this: That although weʼre saved by grace and grace alone, that from then on the job of making ourselves holy is ours. We ask God to help us, of course, every step of the way. But the job is ours. Lots of evangelical preachers and writers teach this without batting an eye, and they never for one moment consider it contrary to a life of faith because they emphasize that we must trust God to help us.
It sounds so good—what could possibly be wrong with it? This teaching acknowledges that the law of God is right, it puts emphasis on obedience to Godʼs laws, and it strongly advocates calling on God for help. How could it be wrong?
Like many Christians, I accepted this teaching right away and got right to it. Here is what it was like for me. It was as if I picked up a huge book containing the righteous law of God, heaved it up on my shoulders, and tried to obey every word of it. NOT to save myself; I knew I was saved—but to Go On in the Christian life, for "sanctification." I knew that everything written in the book was true. There were thousands of things I should think/say/do to be like Jesus, and thousands more I SHOULDN'T think/say/do to be like Jesus. All were right and true. I agreed wholeheartedly with God that every law was right, and I wanted to obey it all. I planned to obey it—I worked at obeying it—I thought about it, read it, took notes on it, memorized it.
And Iʼm not talking about silly stuff like lists of goodie-goodie rules. I mean the real stuff, like acting with love towards people and having self control—the stuff in the Bible.
However, I made poor progress. With effort (and also with the benefit of good upbringing and other advantages not of my own doing), I could sometimes keep myself from some types of overt sins, but I was disappointed in my attitudes and inclinations, which seemed relentlessly wrong and resistant to any improvement. There may have been fewer sins, but my overall SINFULNESS didnʼt seem to change. I was clearly not headed toward becoming a trophy in Godʼs trophy case of righteousness. Letʼs just say I did a lot of pedaling for not much forward progress.
The problem with making oneself holy—as I discovered after many years—is itʼs impossible. Iʼm convinced that anyone who sincerely attempts this will be brought to despair. Itʼs no more possible to become holy through oneʼs own effort—even frequently asking God for help—than it would be to move the Sahara Desert using a teaspoon. A person can try to do it—turn blue with the effort—but in the end all heʼll have is a little pile of sand, and the Sahara Desert will be as good as untouched.
But what other option is there? To NOT try to do the right thing? To NOT desire holiness? To go ahead and follow my sinful inclinations and not worry about it?
On the face of it, there only appeared to be two options: Option One (what I'll call "self-sanctification"), to try hard to obey the righteous requirements of God in every way, praying for help. Option Two, to quit trying and no doubt sink immediately into even worse sinful mire. This is the dilemma I found myself in.
I now believe there is another way, taught through the whole of the Bible, for becoming holy. Itʼs called “walking in the Spirit,” (also called “putting on Jesus,” “having Christ in us” “being led by the Spirit,” “being rooted and built up in him,” etc.). I believe Option One is wrong, not at all because itʼs wrong to obey God or that the law of God is wrong in any way, but because itʼs not the method God tells us to use or has in mind for us—not to mention the fact that it doesnʼt work at all.
The single focus—the one “work”—of walking in the Spirit is to fix oneʼs eyes on Jesus. Itʼs quite a shift, from the LAW to the law -MAKER.
Instead of thinking, “What would Jesus do?” I go to Jesus and ask, “What should I do?” When Jesus gives an instruction (perhaps pointing to some point of the same moral law that has before been so oppressive), I obey—and I am able to obey—because what Jesus asks is ACHIEVABLE.
There is a very big difference between self-sanctification and walking in the Spirit. In the first, I grind out partial obedience to yet one more tiny law (with ten more volumes crushing me down, some not even opened yet). When walking in the Spirit, I donʼt in any way reject the law (I still wholeheartedly agree with it), but instead of embracing a legal system—a THING—Iʼm embracing a PERSON, and this person is the one who provides whatʼs needed. Itʼs quite a difference. The difference is as great as the difference between being in bondage and being
in love.
When walking in the Spirit, I make no attempt to change my old human nature—I consider it hopeless. If I find myself in an ugly fit of selfishness, I give no thought to changing my nature. I simply turn my eyes to the Holy Spirit and show it to him, acknowledging that indeed—as the Bible teaches—my old nature is beyond hope. If he instructs me to some action of love, he will need to import his love into me—and he will. He wonʼt change me into a paragon of loveliness—he will simply import into me the love he has in great supply, enough to do what he asks me to do. I wonʼt have anything to brag about when I do it, since I will have done it only in his power and with his resources.
But then again, the horrible weight of the law is off my back. This is what I call a good deal.
Notice that my GOAL—holiness—is the same. Ever since I was redeemed and God made my spirit alive, I have agreed with him that his way is good and right. When walking in the Spirit, I want to be holy and like Jesus more than before—not less. I end up obeying more—not less—because when I was trying to obey the whole law I was paralyzed with failure. I donʼt answer to the WHOLE OF THE LAW—I answer to my own private TUTOR, who unravels the law for me in his own way and in his own timing—a tutor who loves me and who is lover, companion, and friend as well as tutor. When Jesus asks me to do something, I am able to do it. Itʼs a wonderful thing to no longer be under a shitload of condemnation.
A couple further notes:
1. In my case, I could not free myself from self-sanctification even after I could see I was trapped by it. I mean it when I say COULD NOT. I had to ask God to free me. (Kind of funny—I had to fix my eyes on the Holy Spirit and ask for his direct help, so in a sense I had to walk in the Spirit to be freed to walk in the Spirit! Fortunately the "work" of walking in the Spirit is easy enough to be done even by someone trapped in self-sanctification.)
2. Iʼve noticed that some Christians are not temperamentally inclined to suffering from self-sanctification, and some even seem to be happy, successful self-sanctifiers. I donʼt get it, but I know God made many varieties of temperaments and deals with us in a variety of ways according to how heʼs made us.
For me, getting free of self-sanctification—though I do slip back into it from time to time, but getting free of it for the most part—has made more of a difference in my life than anything else I can think of.
Sanctification; or, the Highway to Holiness by Walter Marshall is the first book I've found that deals with this trap of self-sanctification and walking in the Spirit. I highly recommend it and look forward to posting blogs with notes on the major chapters.
