Conversion 1: From Pleasing to Trusting
A sermon by Pastor Noel Anderson at First Presbyterian Church of Upland
TEXT: 1 JOHN 4: 7-12 CEB
7 Dear friends, let's love each other, because love is from God, and everyone who loves is born from God and knows God. 8 The person who doesn't love does not know God, because God is love. 9 This is how the love of God is revealed to us: God has sent his only Son into the world so that we can live through him. 10 This is love: it is not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son as the sacrifice that deals with our sins. 11 Dear friends, if God loved us this way, we also ought to love each other. 12 No one has ever seen God. If we love each other, God remains in us and his love is made perfect in us. †
The Cure
This series is based—quite loosely, I’ll say—on the book, “The Cure, What if God isn’t who you think He is and neither are you.” It is not only an interesting theological read, but it mixes commentary with a Pilgrim’s Progress-like narrative. The narrator goes forward into another world to encounter core issues of the faith (I read another book like that somewhere called, “Those That Leap”). It is a great summer read and an apt primer for us as we investigate the many changes we endure on the path to Christian maturity.
I’ve made no secret of my differences with one-time conversion events—datable conversions, altar calls, and other “decision” moments—because our walking with Christ is much more complex and far more a matter of long-term conversion than can happen at a revival or hot retreat, so I’ve subtitled this series, “Seven Conversions of the Christian Life.”
We convert initially, yes—and we’re entirely right to celebrate one’s first step on the road to faithfulness!—but our sanctification is a process that takes our entire lives. We have many events that effect our ultimate conversion into the image and likeness of Christ. In fact, we will never make it entirely in this lifetime, but we know the direction and goal, and with the Holy Spirit, we will surely be on the right paths at our life’s end. In that glorious day we see Jesus face-to-face, we will know how far from his image we were—even at our best moments.
A Fork in the Road
Our hero in the book makes his way through life when he finds himself at a fork in the road. He must choose between trusting God and pleasing God. Like him, we readers are unsure as to the real differences. Don’t we all want to trust and please God? How can this be a fork instead of a both/and proposition? In the end he decides to take the route toward pleasing God.
The Path of Pleasing God
He finds his way to a magnificent hotel with bronze words on the front: Striving hard to be all that God wants me to be. This is certainly the mainstay of many—perhaps most—churches in America. We program ourselves into thousands of ways to be all we think God wants us to be. This generally something and someone other than who we actually are, which is—we always feel— sinners. So we work real hard at trying not to sin and act like good Christians ought to act. As Dr. Phil would say, “How’s that workin’ for ya?”
Our hero enters The Room of Good Intentions and likes what he sees. He sees the church he has always wanted to be a part of. Everyone looks great, like they all have their act together. The room looks clean, rich, and luxurious—a class act. A gorgeous hostess welcomes him to the room and he feels like he’s found his true home.
He notices many people are wearing masks. When he begins to share a bit of his own struggles, he too is handed a mask. A banner on the back wall reads: Working on my sin to achieve an intimate relationship with God.
And people there are working on it too. A Fortune 500 executive donated 90% of his salary to charity! Everyone seems to be doing really well. Except…he hasn’t been able to beat the sin thing. It’s there whether he pretends it is or not. From the book:
So many good-hearted people fill this room. They have devoted themselves to God, to studying His character, to pouring themselves into spreading His Word, to serving humanity in the name of Jesus. This must be it! Soon God and I will be close again.
Weeks run into months in this room, and a slight unease starts to creep in. it gets stronger by the day, but I can’t put my finger on it at first. I’m noticing many in here talk in a sort of semi-joking, put-down banter. It’s familiar, but a bit off. And standing this long on the edges of insider conversations, I realize I never noticed how annoying or obvious the subtle bragging sounds.
Furthermore, his feelings change:
I’m starting to think differently, too. The comfort I felt when I got here is fading. I’m carrying this tension, like if I don’t measure up, I’ll be shunned. Oh, and with God too!
Here’s another thing: Despite all my passionate sincerity, I keep sinning. Then I get fixated on trying not to sin. Then it all repeats: same sin, same thoughts, same failure….
Increasingly, the path to pleasing God seems to be about how I can keep God pleased with me.
One day, it dawns on me what I’ve been doing to myself and to everyone else around me. I’ve been trying to meet some lofty expectation, primarily to gain acceptance from people. To satisfy a God I’m not sure I can ever please? Even worse, I expect everyone around me to do the same.
The Room of Good Intentions is based on at least three lies:
1. We do not see God as He is, and we do not see ourselves as we are.
2. More right behavior and less wrong behavior equals righteousness and/or godliness.
3. We can resolve our sin by working on it.
What seems like good Christian piety is in fact a recipe for constant spiritual disaster and failure. It is the timeless, age-old problem of pride: we want our own hands on the wheel of our own lives and destiny. We want to achieve or accomplish righteousness as we do any other goals.
The problem is: we can’t. We are sinners, which means by definition we can’t achieve righteousness. Yes, churches in every century find ways to market personally-accomplished righteousness, but is that our calling?
Our avoidance of sin becomes just as sinful as our sin itself, because we inwardly will celebrate how successfully we have steered ourselves. It can’t be helped, at least not by us.
The result is that we find ourselves on a kind of hamster wheel, furiously running forward but getting nowhere. Not only will we suffer stunted growth in the Room of Good Intentions, but we may lock ourselves into Christian immaturity. Disillusionment is the inevitable result.
We Christians play this game in every era to our own detriment. Evangelist/salesmen devise ways for you to accomplish holiness and they sell them by the millions. Really, if you’d like me to set up some hoops for you and offer you guarantees of righteousness should you jump through those hoops, I can do so. But should not and will not, nor should you receive from anyone in this world any guarantees other than those that come from God Himself through Scripture. Just as we are easily led astray by evil, we are easily led into false forms of righteousness, which are any forms made by man, woman, or any community of faith.
The Path of Trusting God
Our hero backs up to the fork in the road and makes his way down the other path—Trusting God. Soon, he comes to another glorious hotel exactly like the first, but this one has different bronze letters on the front: Living Out of Who God Says I am. Already we see a difference. When we pursue the path of trust, we are not self-defining, but God-defined.
Another beautiful room full of people awaits, but the hostess, while beautiful, makes eye-contact and smiles a genuinely-warm smile. “Welcome to the Room of Grace,” she says. She is a real person, flawed and authentic, and she smiles with her eyes. Among the crowd, there is not a mask in sight.
A banner is hung on the back wall: Standing with God, my sin in front of us, working on it together. What a difference! We can become so accustomed to the idea that our sins are what separate us from God and keep us distant, that we can easily get caught in the trap of trying to work out our sins by our own power. That is the hamster wheel. But what if that is a mistaken picture? (Good news: it is).
Though I don’t have teenagers of my own, I have spent my career helping parents and kids find their way. One particularly brilliant pastor in Dallas describes the relationship between parents and that troublesome 15-18 year old demographic as detente. Yes, just like the USA and the old USSR—detente means keeping the relationship from going nuclear.
The key thing he suggests is to not let the rules get between you. In childhood, the kid presses up against the rules and the parents push the rules down on the kids—and that is right and good and as it should be, but when adulthood is emerging, the rules need to be repositioned. The parent stands beside the young adult child, arm around shoulder lovingly, to consider the rules together.
Dad: What do you think is a reasonable curfew?
Kid: 1am sounds reasonable to me.
Dad: No good—I can’t sleep until you’re home.
Kid: How about midnight?
Dad: How about 10:30?
Kid: Are you kidding? Can we do 11?
Dad: Done, but every 15 minutes you’re late
after 11 is a night grounded, agreed?
Kid: Sounds good.
In the same way, our sins don’t stand between us and Jesus, but Jesus stands between us and our sins! What else do you think the good news is? When we begin with trusting Jesus rather than trying to please him under our own power, we find ourselves closer to him, and isn’t that the goal from the start?
Jesus stands beside us, with us, in spite of our sins. His love and nearness do not depend upon our righteousness.
Prior to Christ, the people of God repelled Him by their sins. All that was tamei (unclean) kept them at a distance because God would not tolerate sin. All that changed with Christ, who bore all that is sinful and unclean upon the cross—putting our shame to shame, and putting sin and death to death. Verse 17:
So then, if anyone is in Christ, that person is part of the new creation. The old things have gone away, and look, new things have arrived!
The new creation is a new state of spiritual affairs in which our sins are not counted against us (even though we feel they ought to be). Verse 19:
God was reconciling the world to himself through Christ, by not counting people's sins against them.
Christ is with us and for us, and this is the beginning of the good news, which is the gospel. Our hero describes the Room of Grace:
Before, God was always “over there,” on the other side of my sin, obscured by the mound of trash between us. But now I realize He’s here, with me. I can picture it as clearly as if it’s happening.
He puts his hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes. No disappointment. No condemnation. Only delight. Only love. He pulls me into a bear hug, so tight it knocks the breath out of me for a moment.At first, I feel unworthyI want to push away and cry out, “I don’t deserve this. Please stop. I’m not who you think I am!” But He does know. And soon I give in to His embrace. I hear Him say, “I know. I know. I’ve known you from before time began. I’ve seen it all. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
And now I’m holding on with all my might. He stays right there in the moment, until He’s certain His love has been completely communicated and received. Only then does He release His grip, so He can turn to put an arm around my shoulder. He then directs by sight to that mound of filth out in front of us….
“We’ll deal with this when you’re ready. I’ve got your back.”
New Creatures, New Creation
We are part of a new creation—we are new creatures—and so is our community. By grace we can live as a new, redeemed people. Grace calls for this. We are called to live a new life in the new creation, which means we are not to live focused on our own sinfulness, but focused on God’s glory as we enjoy his fellowship, trusting that we are in fact no longer estranged by sin!
This new community is one that trusts God implicitly, and knows no disappointment, no condemnation, only delight as they glorify God and enjoy Him!
The old Westminster Assembly, which convened in 1643 to unite British Protestantism, resulted in some extraordinary theological fruit. The Shorter Catechism, which used to be memorized by confirmands and church officers, begins with a question so profound that it is powerful to guide us today. Question #1:
Q: What is the chief end of Man?
A: The chief end of Man is to glorify God
and enjoy Him forever.
You know, I don’t even know what question number 2 is, but number 1 is something we can all memorize and remember. People in the Room of Good Intentions may be perfectly clear about glorifying God, but it is doubtful that they will ever manage to enjoy Him as they remain alienated from Him on the far side of their sins.
So let’s compare these two rooms. In the Room of Good Intentions:
- •I must work on my sins.
- •God’s favor depends upon my good efforts.
- •I achieve good standing with God
- •I compete with myself and other for goodness.
- •Life is a hamster wheel of disillusionment.
In the Room of Grace:
- •I trust in God’s forgiveness of my sins.
- •God’s favor is secure and proved by Christ.
- •Christ has achieved all righteousness for me.
- •I am humbled and trust humility.
- •I have true peace in my heart and soul.
Our movement here—our Christian conversion—is a journey away from trying to please God and toward simply trusting in God. It is a movement every Christian should seek and the alternative is to remain perpetually trapped in immaturity.
This is not to say that we no longer seek to please God—far from it! Rather, we shall refuse to put the cart ahead of the horse. Trust comes first—always first—and pleasing God flows from there:
No one can please God without trust, for whoever comes to God must have trust that God exists and rewards those who seek him. —Hebrews 11:6
Again I’ll remind you that the Greek word for faith, pistis, can equally be translated trust and/or believe. We do well to read that word as trust rather than believe in many—perhaps most—cases, because believing something is entirely a matter of what we think in our heads. Beliefs change, and our minds can be quickly changed with good information or new research, but trust is bigger, deeper, and more permanent. Trust is truly a state of the soul, and where we place our trust is surely where are hearts remain.
Our conversion from trying to please God to trusting God is one in which we must do what is very hard to do; namely, take our hands off the wheel and turn the control over to God. Yes, it’s hard and yes, most people really don’t want to do this, but if it is our goal to grow into the likeness of Christ, then this is the requirement.
You may have come down the aisle and cried at the steps of the church during an altar call. Or perhaps you surrendered you life to Jesus on the final night of summer camp as a teenager. Maybe you grew up in faithfulness and have always believed in God—even so, any of these beautiful beginnings can decay into legalism and self-righteousness. In fact, it is virtually guaranteed unless you and I invest and reinvest our whole trust in God Himself.
God’s love is proven to us in that while we are yet sinners, He reconciles the world to Himself through Christ. We are simply recipients of his inexpressible heroism. We may feel we need to pay him back or give him back something out of gratitude, but let’s remember that we can’t pay for a free gift. We ought not to try. Hard as it is, we must work on receiving, which we do whenever we abandon ourselves, our moral devices, and all our good intentions.
May our focus be just that simple. Trust and obey.
Trust. Obey. In that order! †
Next Week: More on Masks