The Ends of Good and Evil

Of Evil)

Lying is evil. Stealing is evil. Murder is evil. These are functions of the wicked, not of the good.

If all evil behaviors belong to the wicked, and are eschewed by the good, then it logically follows that the wicked will afflict all these evils upon the good, tormenting them even unto death.

To be righteous is therefore to accept all the evil of the world, while denying oneself any opportunity to retaliate in kind. It therefore follows that evil will naturally triumph over good, as it can murder the righteous, but the righteous cannot murder the wicked.

Of Good)

That being said, triumph is good. Resurrection is good. Salvation is good. These are states of the righteous, not of the wicked.

If all good outcomes belong to the righteous, and are denied to the wicked, then it logically follows that the righteous will overcome all the afflictions of the wicked, even being raised from the dead.

To be righteous is therefore to accept all the evil of the world, but then being raised above it all. It therefore follows that good will ultimately triumph over evil, as it can overcome evil, but the evil cannot overcome the good.

Remembering Our Own Goodness

Sometimes we pine in the wilderness of our sin and shame, crying for some act of God to show us that we are still loved, even in spite of our wickedness. And, in some cases, maybe that really is what we need. But sometimes, in those situations, what we really need is to know that we can still love, even in spite of our wickedness.

I discovered this for myself recently, when I felt shut in a small room where I could not feel God’s light, even though all my past experiences told me that He still cared for and wanted me. As I prayed for Him to come and find me, I felt instead the urge to start singing. I was guided to a hymn I had never heard before, My Jesus, I Love Thee, and as I sang my redeclaration of love to my savior I felt my cold heart come back to life.

Knowing that God loves us is good, and is the first great testimony that we all require. But after that, the next great testimony is to know that there is an eternal goodness within us that we cannot kill. We need to remember our own spark of divinity, and have faith in ourselves to be better again. We need to learn, as I did that dark day turned bright, that even in the depths of our greatest shame we still have the ability to exclaim, “if ever I loved thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.”

Called to Wait

I have been guilty of being frustrated when God does not immediately answer the good desires of my heart. If I come to Him in faith, surrender my situation to His care, and believe in His power to do what is right, then why do I not receive the desired results?

And to be clear, I don’t mean going to God and asking Him to give me fame or fortune. I mean asking Him to change my heart, to cure my selfishness and addiction, to mend my brokenness so that I can be a better person. These are clearly good things, ones that I genuinely feel are in alignment with God’s will for me, so why wouldn’t the desire to change be answered with transformation?

Recently, though, I felt this impatience rebuked as I considered the precedent that is set for us in the word of God. I do not feel the scriptures justifies my opinion that God would immediately deliver every good thing that is sought for. Rather, the Bible is full of examples of waiting, sometimes for very long periods of time, before the realization of promised blessings are fulfilled.

Think of Abraham being promised that he would be the father of a great nation, but that not coming to pass for hundreds of years. Think of Jacob having to toil for seven years to marry the woman of his dreams, only to be deceived and committing to serving another seven years for her. Think of Joseph waiting long periods as a slave in Potiphar’s house and then in prison, even though he had done no wrong. Think of Moses trying to help the Israelites, failing, and then living decades in Midian before being called to try again. Think of the Israelites, freed from Egypt, but waiting in the wilderness 40 years before they would receive the Promised Land. Think of Job being left to wallow in his afflictions for a full measure before he was restored. Finally, think of those that Christ healed, and how many of them had been held by their afflictions for years before their deliverance. For the woman with the issue of blood it was twelve years, for the man at the pool of Bethesda it was thirty-eight!

In some of these examples there was a period of waiting because the people were not ready, such as the Israelites wandering in the wilderness. In others, however, there was no personal fault, such as with Joseph, it was simply not yet the right time for his deliverance. So why could not either of these cases be the same with me? Maybe I’m not ready for my deliverance, but if I trust the Lord to prepare me eventually I will be. Or maybe I am ready, but it is not the right time according to the Lord’s wisdom, so I should rest in Him and let the better things come when they may. In either case, the fact that I have not yet been healed is not, in-and-of-itself evidence that something is going wrong. It may still be going exactly right. I might be rightly waiting in the wilderness, just where I’m supposed to be.

The Shackles We Choose

Something I have been noticing while doing my study of Exodus is that Israel hated their enslavement in Egypt…but they also preferred it to being free. Though initially euphoric when God destroyed their enemies in the Red Sea, they repeatedly afterwards claimed that things were better for them when they were in captivity than free in the wilderness.

It seemed a strange behavior, until I examined my own life and realized that the same is true for me. As much as I may not like feeling subject to my boss, I cannot fathom living without the security he provides me. I think of all the projects I wish devoted my spare time to, but I’m afraid to cut out the movies and video games that receive most of my spare hours instead. I see my cluttered house and want to set it in order, but focus instead on the mess of emails I’m subscribed to. I say that I’m ready to live a self-controlled and honorable life, then I obey the will of my temptations instead.

From my birth I was blessed with great opportunity and freedom, given to me by the goodness of God and the sacrifices of my ancestors. But I have taken that freedom and given it right back to other masters. There is no locked gate keeping me captive, most of the prisons I have checked myself into I could leave any time that I wanted, but I choose to bind myself to these places of my own volition. I remain a prisoner because I am not ready to be truly free.

My conscience urges me to forge out into the wild. My Savior freed my soul two millennia ago. My ancestors provided the security to let my ambitions soar. I pray I find the courage to live as free as I could, to have no Master but my God, the one who calls me into deeper waters.

Shutting God Out

Sometimes when I converse with God I hear the kindest, warmest, and most loving voice I have ever heard. At other times, He seems clinical and formal, still telling me good things, but without His usual warmth. As I have examined those different experiences I have come to realize that it is not God who changes His manner, but I who change what tone I am willing to receive.

When God feels direct and cold to me, it is because I am not open to receiving His love. Sometimes I am frustrated with myself, unwilling to love myself, and so I set up a wall to keep His love out also. He speaks to me as kindly as I allow Him.

Sometimes He doesn’t just sound cold, though, sometimes I can’t even hear Him at all. But once again, it isn’t because He has abandoned me, but because I have gone and shut myself in a room without Him. Even then, though, “he stands at the door, and knocks: and if I will open the door, he will come in with me,” (Revelation 3:20).

And the fact that he will come in with me has been the most meaningful thing to me in those low moments. He doesn’t require me to break down my walls and come out into the open if I’m not yet willing to. He is content to come stay in the dark hovel with me. He will sit with me in the shadow, with only His presence for a light, until I’m finally ready to leave.

Appreciating the Worst Self

It is common to despise our “worst self.” This is the self that is lazy, selfish, overly-indulgent, and perverse. That self always gets us into the worst trouble, imitates the behaviors we most resent in others, and frustrates all of our plans for self-improvement. I have listened to many addicts share their hatred for their “worst self,” going so far as to wishing that they could kill him!

But the thought has occurred to me that my “worst self” has also done the bravest and noblest things that I have ever done. It was while I was firmly in the gutter of shame and depression that I decided to ask for help from my addictions. It was while I was a sinner that I made the decision to repent. It was while God seemed farthest from me that I tried to follow Him most.

The “worst self” has its downsides, but when transformation does occur, it is necessarily that self who decides to make it happen. The “worst self” chooses to let itself die so that the “whole self” may emerge, and we owe it a great debt of gratitude for repeatedly making that sacrifice.

Deeper Into Enemy Territory

Recovery is a multi-stage journey. I, and many of the other addicts that I have known, experienced an initial battle with temptation and eventually a victory over it, only to feel new battles springing up around us some time later. After the initial success, we tend to experience setbacks, or new addictions forming off to the side, and it makes us doubt the control we thought we had gained. Most great battles in recovery seem to be followed by a sequel.

As I have reflected on this phenomenon, the thought has occurred to me that the more you press against your foe, delving further into the heart of enemy territory, the more unpredictable and treacherous the terrain becomes. The initial push and triumph in recovery feels fantastic, but that is nothing more than breaking through the front lines. Yes, it is a victory, but you have yet to capture the capitol. Or, to shift metaphors, perhaps you have chased the bear from your home, but in so doing you have followed it into its lair where greater challenges await.

Virtually every addict finds that his bad behavior comes about by the following sequence:

  1. He has many hurts and frustrations in his life
  2. Those hurts and frustrations put him into a perpetually dejection and faithless state
  3. While depressed and faithless, temptation easily has its way with him

The first fight for recovery has to do with short-circuiting this pattern. The addict learns how to manage or mitigate his pain, removing unnecessary afflictions, ending negative relationships, and stopping behaviors that add stress. Less frustration means less dejection, and less dejection makes him stronger against temptation.

And this is all well and good, but the solution will last only as long as his management and mitigation efforts are effective. Sooner or later life will throw something new and unexpected, as it always does, and all his perceived progress will be undone. He will find out that his sobriety is dependent on life being easy, and no one’s life is always easy.

So the addict must go further into enemy territory, deeper into the heart of the problem. Sooner or later he has to learn to break the connection between the pain of life and becoming dejected. He has to learn how to be peaceful and content, no matter the simultaneous pain. This is a very difficult thing to do, of course, but if he can succeed in this critical battle, then the world will no longer have any power over him. He will have captured the heart of the enemy’s power, and the war will be over.

The Impasse of Release and Guilt: Part Three

In my last two posts I have described two parts of a paradox in addiction recovery. Part one was that we have the greatest success when we do not ruminate on our failures, but simply let them go. Part two was that the addict who breaks beautiful things and hurts loved ones feels it is too flippant to just let those things go. It seems necessary that the addict should be devastated about his failure for some time.

Thus, the addict finds himself caught between the surrender of guilt that would give him the best chance of recovery, and the sense of justice that demands he pays for what he has done. Thankfully, there is a third element that comes to bridge this terrible gulf, to provide a ladder from the darkness to the light.

The Need for a Savior)

At the core of the addict saying that it is right and appropriate to feel devastated for his failures is a recognition that he has broken a moral crime, and so justice ought to be carried out on him. But once we recognize that this is a matter of paying the price for a moral crime, Jesus Christ steps into the picture. The whole point of Jesus Christ is that he, himself, paid the price for these crimes so that we wouldn’t have to.

If I responded to my most shameful acts with nothing more than a “yeah, that happened, but moving on…” then yes, that would be too flippant. But there’s nothing flippant about saying “My best friend died for what I did, so that I could go free.” If anything, that adds even greater gravity and weight to the situation, while also justifying me in letting go of my shame and moving on.

Yes, it is appropriate to be devastated about the seriously wrong things that we do, but Christ offers to feel that devastation for us. When we take him up on that offer, and surrender the weight to him, then it is entirely appropriate for us to get right back in the saddle and try again.

I think this is why having a Higher Power, and more specifically a Savior, is essential to recovery, because when I don’t account for the fact that someone paid for the price for me, I get stuck at an impasse between parts one and two. I need this final part to bridge the gap and bring it all home. It allows me to live as if I had never done anything wrong, while also not minimizing the very real wrong that I really did do. Bringing Christ into the recovery allows us to exchange our worst for his best, and thus the captive may go free.

The Impasse of Release and Guilt: Part Two

A Proper Devastation)

Yesterday I considered how obsession with failure only tends to yield further failure. In order to change our lives and habits, we have to let go of our tendency to punish ourselves, we have to forgive ourselves for falling short, we have to get right back up and resume living our commitments.

Speaking for myself, just by understanding this fact I do find it easier to let go of my more minor indiscretions. If I eat too much at a party, if I stay up too late playing games, if I find myself distracted at work, I find it within my reach to set aside the self-resentment and instead say, “yes, that happened, but I should get right back to living my commitments, hopeful and trusting that I’ve still got this.”

But not every wrong fits into that “minor indiscretion” category. We addicts are defined by how consistently and repeatedly do heavy and major wrongs. We do things that not only hurt ourselves, but those we care about most. We break beautiful things and cause irreversible damage. And just letting go of that doesn’t feel so easy. In fact, it feels disrespectful and inappropriate to just let it go. It seems too flippant to say “yes, that happened, but moving on…”

And yes, focusing on the guilt and failure of our major wrongs is still the surest way to end up repeating those painful behaviors. Pragmatically we ought to just let them go, but in our hearts it feels like we should be distressed and devastated for a time.

This is a great conundrum then. It is the impassable gulf, the catch-22 of recovery. How are we to do make the surrender that help us get better when doing so feels actively wrong? This is the gordian know we will untangle tomorrow.

The Impasse of Release and Guilt: Part One

In my spiritual journey, through my experiences of addiction and recovery, I have seen a difficult impasse that many addicts have grappled with, myself included. There are two aspects that seem to be fundamentally at odds with one another, creating what at first appears to be an unfixable situation. We’ll look at the first point today, the second one tomorrow, and the surprising resolution after that.

The Need to Move On)

One thing that psychological research has found, and that I have seen within my own self, is that dwelling on one’s failures is the surest way to repeat them. The more we obsess over what we’ve done wrong, the more we are aligned to returning to that polluted well again and again.

I have many times found myself repeatedly and profusely apologizing, spelling out every reason why what I did was wrong, and focusing on how fundamentally selfish all my actions were. The result? All of that self-flagellation sent a message to myself that I was fundamentally no good, hell-bent on doing the wrong things, and so that’s exactly what continued to happen. I continued to do the same things again and again, because that was just the garbage sort of person that I was.

On the other hand, being willing to set aside my shame and believe in myself in spite of my failings was fundamental to overcoming these negative habits. I had to sincerely believe there was a better, truer me beneath the bad actions before he could come forward into reality.

There is a caveat to this. One who is in complete denial, who is constantly minimizing his wrongs, who is dismissive of the pain he causes, he may require a sharp wake up call to really face how messed up his behavior really is. But for any self-admitting addict who is genuinely remorseful, the pragmatic next step for him would be to set aside every failure and just keep moving forward.

There is an obstacle to doing this, though, which we will discuss in the next post.