My father was a patient person. He wasn’t around a lot when I was a child; he worked two jobs that had him out to “The Office” before I got up for school, and home after I went to bed. His second job took him away on weekends. But he managed to teach me a few things nonetheless, and what left the deepest impression was how he taught me to ride a bicycle. You see, I was a clumsy kid, and bookish as well. Physical things did not come naturally to me, and I did not have the instincts and reflexes that most kids my age had. Time after time, he would try to explain to me how to balance, the importance of keeping moving, etc., and as often as not I just gave him that deer-in-the-headlights look as I crashed to the ground. But he never gave me a hard time about it, caught me if he was close enough, and carefully went over it all again. In retrospect, I think he must have despaired of me ever learning. It wasn’t as if he had a lot of time to spare, but I do not recall a single incidence of exasperation or anger.
And eventually, it just clicked. My body figured out what he was trying to teach me, and my brain made all the right associations to keep my elbows off the pavement. And from that time on, I rode that bicycle everywhere. My two proudest possessions in all my youth were my first new spider bike, and the 10-speed I later received as a grade school graduation present. On weekends, I cruised the neighborhood on my bicycle; I took it to the corner store when I wanted to spend my allowance, and I rode it to my friends’ homes. I biked to church and to youth group meetings, sometimes with a guitar tucked under one arm; after I finished high school, I even rode it to work when the weather permitted. I adored my bicycle … I didn’t even love my first car quite so much.
Dad’s lessons had paid off. If he had made it an unpleasant experience of recriminations and shaming, it’s possible I may have learned anyway. If he shouted at me every time I made a mistake, or failed to understand what he was teaching, I also might have eventually learned anyway. If he watched me fall and blamed me for my own tears, or kicked me when I was on the ground, I still might have got the lesson. But I don’t think I would have loved it. At best it would have been something necessary to get around on until I got a car, and at worst, maybe I never would have learned after all. But I wanted desperately to learn, and when I did, it was sheer joy. And I don’t think it would have been if my father wasn’t so patient and gentle in the process of teaching me.
So why is it that Christians so often act like learning how to live a righteous life needs to be an experience in shame? I understand that for one to be able to fully appreciate the propitiatory work of Christ, one first has to understand the need for it … and that means understanding sin, and God’s view of it. Sinners need to know they are sinners, or they cannot know they need a Saviour. But once they do, and have accepted that Jesus is that Saviour, it’s not a matter of browbeating and harsh discipline that will make them live a life pleasing to Him, it’s a matter of wanting to please Him.
And yet, to my astonishment, I have many times sat in various churches and listened to the preacher upbraid his congregation as if what they needed most was to be more ashamed of themselves in order to live better. Furthermore, the congregation members themselves will nod their heads as if they deserve this, and then declare their unworthiness among each other like they were somehow proud of it. “Oh,” they mourn, wringing their hands, “I am not nearly as good a Christian as I should be.” Well, here’s a newsflash: no one is, this side of heaven. And yet, Christ died and paid for those sins and shortcomings, and they are trusting that His sacrifice was sufficient for that purpose.
In 2 Corinthians 5:17 it reads, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” There is more to that statement than is often first attributed to it. Christians will earnestly tell you how their lives have changed, and how they no longer view their old ways as they once did. And that’s very true, as far as it goes. But it is not simply an expression of how a Christian has been forgiven, and is therefore no longer viewing life through the lens of a fallen creature: it’s an expression that the Christian’s fundamental nature has changed. Not only do they view things differently, they see things they were incapable of seeing before. And not only do they want to stop living a life of sin, they fervently desire to live a life of righteousness.
Which is not to say the process is simple or instantaneous. It is demonstrably neither. There is not a believer alive today that can honestly tell you they have walked perfectly with their Lord since the day they received His grace. Most will tell you they struggle daily with the flesh (and the rest are just keeping quiet about it). But they want that life of righteous living, and they want to please God. They don’t need anymore to be told to stop sinning; they know they need to stop. They need to be taught, patiently and gently, how to stop sinning. And they need to be taught without the condemnation that so many seem to feel is necessary.
But let me make something clear. I am not talking about people who are knowingly and deliberately living a sinful life out of rebellion or unwillingness to apply what they accept as true to their behavior. I am talking about those who are struggling to live a godly life and not doing so well at it. I think that distinction is part of what Jude talks about in Jude 1:22-23 – “And on some have compassion, making a distinction; 23 but others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire, hating even the garment defiled by the flesh.” Jude is probably referencing unbelievers in that verse, but I do believe the concept applies to believers as well. Rebellion is not to be tolerated, and can’t be dealt with gently; though I also feel like I have to point out if a person doesn’t agree with you on what the Bible says, that doesn’t necessarily mean they are rebelling against God. After all, you might be the one who has it wrong.
Here are some other key verse on the matter:
Rom 8:1-4 – “1There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. 2 For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death. 3 For what the law could not do in that it was weak through the flesh, God did by sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, on account of sin: He condemned sin in the flesh, 4 that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us who do not walk according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.”
Rom 8:9 – “But you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you. Now if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he is not His.”
There is some good stuff in-between I left out for the sake of brevity, but put those concepts together. The first I saw that passage, I assumed Paul meant that there is no condemnation for Christians who live according to Christ’s standard of living (i.e., not sinning). Indeed, that seems to be the way most Christians view it. But verse nine negates that idea entirely. There is no condemnation if you are Christ’s, period. A related passage in 1 John 3:5 says, “And you know that He was manifested to take away our sins, and in Him there is no sin.” That’s a more controversial verse, because there are a lot of different opinions about what it says, but I think the simplest interpretation fits, and that it is saying exactly what Romans 8:1 is saying, that sin (in the legal sense, not the fact that it exists) and condemnation don’t apply to the believer anymore, as Christ took all that away with His death on the cross. The punishment for sin is gone, Christ paid it.
And here’s one more I think pertinent: Col 2:23 – “These things indeed have an appearance of wisdom in self-imposed religion, false humility, and neglect of the body, but are of no value against the indulgence of the flesh.” And what “things” was he referring to? The rules and regulations we place on godly living (Col. 2:20). And if rules and regulations are of no value in keeping us from sin, however can beating each other up over sinful behavior help? Instead of encouraging people to live righteous lives, we discourage them, try to make it onerous, and put a stigma on the whole process that even the ungodly world sees as a burden and something to keep away from. Furthermore, it puts a subtle emphasis on living a godly life in the power of the flesh, which is just not possible.
The goal, however, is still a righteous life. Sin is still sin, and every rule and every law in Scripture is designed to teach us what sin is, so we can stop doing it and do what is right instead, beginning with trusting Christ to deliver us from it (Gal. 3:24-25). And after that, it’s the power of what Christ has done to change us, not nagging and condemnation, that enables us to live lives that are blameless. We need to encourage each other in the love of Christ. We need to help each other understand what things we could do better so that we may avoid stumbling. We need to understand cause and effect in our lives better, and clean up the things that all but force us into bad decisions and sinful reactions. But we also need to do this in a patient and gentle way, like my father’s bicycle riding lessons, or all we will manage in the end is to re-enforce brokenness in people’s lives, and add to their frustration. In that, there will be no joy, because every gain is bitter and fleshly. And that is not how Christ has called us to live.