Board index ‹ The Problem of Evil and Suffering

[icecold]

I feel like i'm always guilty because I know that I can't love God as much as he loves me. I keep messing up. I feel like I'm not really saved because I'm constantly looking at what i'm doing wrong even though I know that I should be doing the right thing. I know that salvation is not earned but given but I can't seem to get my mind off of the fact that I'm constantly feeling guilty for messing up. What are some things I should know to prevent this or some Bible verses to have so that I'm not constantly so guilty? And by the way it's not like there's one big thing that I know I've done, it's every "little" thing that I do that I know I shouldn't have done.

[jimwalton]

Thanks for your honesty. I'll be honest back: Western Christianity is a guilt culture (as opposed to Eastern cultures that are shame/honor cultures). We as Westerners (and I'm just assuming you are without even really knowing if you are or not) have a tendency to read the Bible with a guilt mentality—it's sort of our cultural mindset that isn't necessarily shared by much of the world. And yet we've been thoroughly enculturated and have a difficult time escaping the ego-crushing and spirituality-crushing thoughts of our own guilt. We know what we've done (and continue to do), we know the regrets that we live with, and yet when tomorrow comes we find ourselves doing that same stuff again. The Apostle Paul talked about it in Rom. 7.14-25: Doggonit, I keep doing the stuff that I've supposedly turned away from, but it seems to have its hooks in me and I can't escape it. That makes me not only guilty, but a jerk, and every time I fail I fall deeper into regret and a sense of failure. We make a strange discovery: I love God, I'm pretty sure I love the will of God, and I thought I could pull this off and be a God-pleasing person, but I'm a miserable, guilty failure. We try to bring our will-power to bear on the situation, but that will only carry us so far, and we fail again. Some people have even accused Christianity of being "the religion where I keep beating myself for my own inadequacies and failures." But that's never what it was supposed to be, and truly not what it is. If you don't mind, I'll continue.

Romans 7 is also about the Law: "ME, trying to do something for God." At core it's a matter of thinking differently (based on good theology). I am a person "sold under sin" (Rom. 7.14), and feeling pathetic about it. We know that Christianity claims to set us free, to blow the roof off the house, to bring us "new creation". Your question is, "Yeah, how do I find THAT?" It comes from an accurate vision of God. We hold on to our regrets; He doesn't. He has forgiven them. We are plagued by our sins; He's not. He knows our weaknesses, and has forgiven them. The problem is in MY head. God is our spouse: full of love, knows us to the core, loves and accepts us, but keeps working with us to bring us to holiness. After all, God is not trying to make us good people, but holy people.

Some verses that may help (as you asked):

Mt. 5.3: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." I know I'm spiritually bankrupt, so does God. Only an empty glass can be filled. You just wouldn't believe how many times a day I pray, "God, I need you." But not out of guilt (I don't dwell on the obvious), but out of reality. I need God. It's not wallowing, it's worshipping. I'm free from the guilt, but I'm "nothing" without Him. It's dependence on God and his character and resources, it's an acknowledgement that I'm inadequate for life all by myself, and it's understanding the spiritual nature of the life in me. I want to be free, not saddled. I keep my hands open, every day. I don't approach God as a worm, but knowing how much of life is a gift.

2 Cor. 12.9: "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me." This is one of the most freeing verses I know. We usually work according to the logic that weakness and power are opposites—that's where we need to learn to think how the Bible teaches us to think. God's power isn't made perfect despite our weaknesses, but in our weakness. Huh?? In our weakness we come to understand that our life is fueled by God, not be me. Despite all my ups and downs, my problems and failures, God is a constant. He's there; he's a strength, a place to stand, my hope. He's not waiting for me to get it right, and then He's interested in me—He's with me NOW, in my condition. Physical illustrations of this spiritual truth are in Sarah’s (& Rachel’s) barren womb, in Jesus healing the man who had been lame 38 years and the one who had been blind from birth. The divine power is supreme, and shows itself best where all human ability and adequacy is brought to nothing. When I realize my spiritual condition, that makes me humble, submissive, teachable, and dependent—exactly the child-like place God wants me.

When I am feeling weak, I have several choices: (1) try to be stronger; (2) do everything to fix my own situation; (3) get somebody to help me. The third one is what the verses are talking about. Spiritual oppression and circumstantial garbage is upsetting, and can make us angry and bitter. I can try to fix the situation, which can be a good choice, but some situations aren't fixable. I can try to be stronger, which can be a good thing, but sometimes my strength isn't enough, and the fact that the situation might not be fixable keeps clubbing me from behind, and I just can't handle it any more. In that case the best choice is number 3: get somebody to help. When I choose this, I am also choosing submission, humility, and dependence. Those responses are all ones that allow God to work. If we pray with humility and dependence that God would fill us with himself, because we’re feeling quite empty and inadequate, and just work on the relationship with him, the grit of the unresolved circumstance will come under the strength of that prayer.

2 Cor. 4.7 (I find 2 Corinthians to be a tremendously helpful read.): "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." This verse is so real. So often I feel so inadequate, so vulnerable, so weak, so insecure. I get so aware of my limitations. And, of course, the problems of life never stop. I definitely feel like a "jar of clay"—frail and fragile and so easily broken. But the value of the jar is not the jar itself, but what is inside. There's a priceless treasure inside, and so the value is what's in it, not in the jar itself. That's me all right. And the more the jar gets broken, the more the treasure can be seen. If the jar stays whole, the treasure stays hidden. So the suffering (the question of evil?) is redeemed, once again, and pain and evil are turned into worthwhile realities that are actually more beneficial than their absence. It’s an amazing teaching. Then read vv. 8-12. It's nothing short of life-changing: I know the treasure that's inside of me—it's God's life in me. That's how I go from day to day. And this is the deal: it’s REAL. It's not a just a new mental attitude, or a perspective that allows us to rise above. There’s actually something in us that changes us and allows us to live this way. Then read vv. 17-18, and it's earthshaking. I LOVE 2 Corinthians.

Psalm 23, and then I'll let you go for now. I know it's cliche, but I LIVE in Ps. 23. I go to sleep by it; I run it through my head when I wake up in the night; it rolls around in me through the day. I need the images of shepherd, green pastures, and still water. Jesus sets me free, he doesn't burden me down. Guilt is no longer part of the equation, only repentance and LIFE. God is my provider, my defender, and my very life (see the communion texts where Jesus was at the Last Supper with his disciples, John 6, John 10, and many Psalms: The Lord is my light and my salvation). Jesus sets me free. Oasis. Nurture. Safety. Restoration. Comfort. But that doesn't mean the problems go away (back to 2 Cor. 4.8-12). Life is still real. I just see my circumstances and my actions with a whole new set of eyes and mind. Our comfort comes not from the working out of our circumstances but in the knowledge of our God. Ps. 23.4 says, “Your rod and your staff comfort me.” If we know God, meditate in his presence, become acquainted with what kind of a person He is and how He works, we can find comfort in the relationship. Notice in that verse (Ps. 23.4) it's in the valley of the shadow of death, meaning that your world is upside down, threatening, dreadful, and filled with trouble. In other words, situation "normal". Life itself is a "valley of the shadow of death." We take comfort in the person of God, and our relationship with him. Picture this: when something terrible happens in your family (oh, let's pick something simply awful like the death of a loved one), you find comfort in each other's hugs and tears. It doesn't make the situation go away, but you find comfort in the relationship in the middle of all the garbage. Same thing here. Comfort is in the relationship, not because anything necessarily gets any better. Look at Psalm 119.49-52. It's God's word (the promises, the covenant relationship) that comforts and gives hope. It's not physical arms that surround us, but the "loving arms of God" that comfort us. It's our understanding of who he is, who he works, how the world works, and that comfort is in our knowledge, not the circumstances (2 Cor. 1.4—we're still having the troubles). Again, suppose you are a prisoner, and, horribly, being tortured. From your dungeon a message circulates that in 7 days you will be rescued and all this agony will end. That message all by itself gives comfort, even though you have seven more days in agony (Isa. 40.2).

I hope this helps. Sorry it's so long. Feel free to talk more.