To Will and To Work
We’ve packed our bags and moved into 2021. What is it that you’re hoping hasn’t followed you here? We all want this year to be a better year, but if we’re honest we also find ourselves wondering: “If I am entering 2021 with my baggage and my sin, maybe it won’t be any better than 2020?”
After a long year of living with yourself, what is it you’re hoping to have unpacked in 2020 and left there for good?
Most of us can sift through our thoughts and quickly list off the flaws we’d like to shed. For me, the first thing that comes to mind is my unwarranted agitation with my children. I begin my day early to read my Bible and pray, only to be interrupted five minutes later by the pitter-patter of small feet. Frustration rises in me like steam as I can foresee the tired tears echoing around our house by noon because the six-year-old woke the three-year-old an entire hour too early. I quickly close my morning prayer as the footsteps grow louder and closer:
Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, you have brought me safely into this new day: Preserve me with your mighty power, that I may not fall into sin, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all I do direct me to the fulfilling of your purpose; through Jesus Christ my Lord. Amen. (Phyllis Tickle, The Divine Hours: Prayers for Autumn and Wintertime)
Irony swells as I attempt to wrestle my children back to bed, only to listen to my tone of voice expire into anger and accusations. My words feel more like a sprinkling of pixie dust—a wish, a happy thought—than a powerful prayer.
I know the truth Paul speaks in Romans 8:1, “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” As I repent of my sin before the Lord and my children, I am overwhelmingly grateful that God is “faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). At the same time, I feel weakened knowing that I will repeat my errors again and again. Paul’s words from Romans 7 speak loudly in my heart, “For I do not understand what I am doing, because I do not practice what I want to do, but I do what I hate” (Rom. 7:15).
Maybe this feeling of being stuck in the muck and mire of the flesh is familiar to you too?
This thin space between Romans 7 and 8 is where most of us spend our Christian lives. Our emotions can feel like a pinball bouncing between sorrow and joy, repentance and restoration, sinfulness and sainthood. There are certainly some beneficial aspects of this, as Paul says, it is the kindness of the Lord that leads us to repentance (Rom. 2:4).
“This thin space between Romans 7 and 8 is where most of us spend our Christian lives.”
Repentance is a mark of true Christian faith. Thanks be to God, we know our sinfulness. Still, is there any hope for obedience, or must we wallow in our sinful state forever?
To Will
Amidst the ups and downs of this past year, I was afforded unexpected time to dig into an important and life-altering doctrine—the doctrine of Union with Christ.
Kyle Worley defines the doctrine of Union with Christ like this:
Union with Christ is the believer’s identification, participation, and incorporation with, in, through, and into the life, the death, the resurrection, the ascension, and the heavenly session of Jesus Christ. (Knowing Faith Podcast, Episode 36 @ about 7 minutes)
Union with Christ teaches us that if we are “in Christ” (Eph. 1:3–14; Col. 2:10–15) our identity is no longer found in our old, sinful selves, but in the perfection of the person of Jesus. This means when we want to rightly understand ourselves and our neighbor (whom we are to love as ourselves) we first go to Genesis 1 and 2: we are made as image-bearers of God, in his likeness, and given dominion to rule over creation as vice-regents and priests displaying God’s beautiful, communicable attributes throughout the world.
Then, we look to Genesis 3: in Adam, all of humanity falls from grace into a state of sinfulness. We still possess the innate desire to rule over the now cursed creation but we will do so for our own glory and at the expense of the created order and other image-bearers.
The image of God in us is disfigured beyond our ability to repair, but God promises restoration through a savior. Jesus Christ, the image of the invisible God (Col. 1:15) condescends to take on human flesh at the incarnation. He walks out perfect obedience and then dies a victorious death upon the cross, affirming his triumph over sin, death, and Satan in his resurrection.
Jesus is the new image to which we are conformed, the new Adam, the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. When we are found to be “in him” through faith, we are cleansed from sin and given his identity as our own! Michael Bird puts it like this, “sin is no longer my true master, and sin is no longer the source of my true identity. I am defined by my love for the Father, my union with Christ, and my possession of the Spirit” (Evangelical Theology, 544).
This is what Paul meant when he said, “I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Gal. 2:20).
“The Jesus in the Gospels is who we are as new creations; his life is our life; his death our death; his resurrection, our resurrection.”
The Jesus in the Gospels is who we are as new creations; his life is our life; his death our death; his resurrection, our resurrection. We participate in his life when we live what theologians call “the cruciform life”: a life marked by taking up our cross and following him (Luke 9:23). This is good news proclaimed to those held captive by sin! The same Spirit that led Jesus through his wilderness trials (Matt. 3), proclaimed in word and deed that the Kingdom of God has come near (Matt. 3:2), and raised Jesus from the dead is the same Spirit that has graciously been poured out on you and me!
To Work
Now comes the balancing act, the lingering question, what do I do to live in light of this? What action must I take to see this truth change my day-to-day life?
Paul encouraged the Philippian believers to “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling,” but followed the statement with, “for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Phil. 2:12–13).
So which is it? Is sanctification my work or God’s? Paul’s answer to this is simply, “yes.”
A few summers ago my husband noticed a board on our back deck that needed to be replaced. He measured the length of the board, gathered his supplies, cut a new board, stained it, and then returned to the deck and tore out the old, weathered wood. The racket woke our oldest son, Cooper, who was two at the time. Our sleepy toddler wandered out onto the back porch. Noticing the wood and tools, he asked if he could help.
With great patience my husband helped our two-year-old place the new wood in the correct spot and gather the appropriate screws for anchoring it. Then, taking our son’s hand into his own, he showed him how to hold the drill and squeeze the trigger to secure the new board into place. Once the project was finished, my husband had our son jump on the part of the deck they had just fixed to demonstrate that their work was done.
For weeks following this project, whenever my son had a friend over he would drag them to our deck and show them how to jump on the new board. While he did, he would proudly say, “Coop-coop build this!”
Did Cooper build that little portion of our deck? Yes, he really did! At the same time, it wasn’t really his work; it was his father’s. His father’s knowledge and plan was what set him to work and roused him to a state of wakefulness. His father guided his hands and held them through each motion. A fuller picture of this scene shows that the work that was accomplished truly bore my husband’s name, but from a child-like perspective it was my son’s first attempt at handiwork.
This is similar to our experience of Christian obedience. It is walking according to the plan of the Father as we live out the new-creation life by abiding in the Son, all through the power of the Spirit.
This year, we may not be able to leave all our pesky habits and weighty sins behind us; but, there is hope for victory over these things. As you seek to walk in obedience, picture your loving Heavenly Father leaning over you as your faulty little hands place wood and screw together to build up his kingdom here on earth as it is in heaven (Matt. 6:9), doing the good work he has prepared in advance for you to do (Eph. 2:10).
Melissa Davis lives in Columbus, Ohio with her husband, Chad, and their three young children. For the past five years she has authored and led Bible studies within the local church context. It is Melissa‘s greatest passion and joy to draw others into God’s redemptive story through the careful study of Scripture. Other writings and teachings by Melissa can be found at: http://trivillagewomensbiblestudy.blogspot.com/.