Joy in the midst of battle

I've been going to the men's Bible study at church Tuesday mornings, which means much earlier mornings on Tuesday, but it's been very good. We're doing a study from John Piper's Desiring God network, called God Is The Gospel. Part of it is watching Piper speak on the subject at hand on video, and in the days leading up to the day we come together we spend time individually with workbooks answering questions on particular aspects, which helps prepare us more for what he's going to speak on. This Tuesday he was speaking about prayer, about its role in the life of a believer and what it is and is not supposed to be. It's a hot subject to be sure, whether you profess to be a Christian or not.

One point he made is that scripturally, prayer is the equivalent of a radio in the battlefield--we are, as the Bible mentions frequently, at war with an enemy that is not flesh and blood but is spiritual, and one that has an advantage in that we were born on the enemy's side and therefore have a natural bent towards going that way. In prayer we are constantly deferring to our Commander for instructions, for truth, for the way through especially in those times when otherwise our natures would lead us astray. The problem (especially in American Christianity where we've been conditioned to believe that the war we're involved in is over some sort of external morality rather than over our own hearts) is that as he put it, we've turned prayer into a "domestic intercom." We're not submitting our lives to God and seeking His direction in prayer, we're calling the bellboy to bring us some room service because things are a little uncomfortable. One thought that struck me, and that I thought would be good to dive into here from both the Word and from his writings would be: "How can you preach 'Christian hedonism' and then turn around and say that our lives are war? How can we be enjoying God when we're fighting?"

These aren't mutually exclusive concepts. On the contrary: what we are fighting for, is joy itself, and I'm not just saying that because it's the subtitle of the Piper book I'm reading right now, "When I Don't Desire God." As Ephesians 6:12 says, I'm not fighting against external physical enemies, even though it would seem that there are many--but no, those who are indifferent or even hostile to Christianity are those who I'm called to love and carry the gospel to, not fight as though it's me or them. My battle is "against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places." It is also, as Paul says in Romans, against myself:

Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin.

Cognitively, I know that the joy I experience in closeness with God is far, far better than anything else. The moments I have tasted that joy have resulted in real growth and transformation as I have desired in prayer for a long time now. Yet a big part of me is still tied deeply to earthly things--whether they are explicitly sinful, as in lustful desires or pride as I wrote about yesterday, or just things I have used to kill time over the years. Even now as I write this it's hard to not want to stop in the middle of it to check Facebook, or go eat something, or just randomly wander around the web, let alone the temptation to venture into the darker parts of the Internet.

The thing is, though, even if I become this perfectly disciplined church boy who loves nothing more than putting on my finest clothes and singing hymns in church, is that the solution? Certainly not--for one thing, a church service is not the wholeness of life in God. Besides, I don't wear suits to church (though maybe I will one of these days...just to mix it up). Likewise, if I did nothing but sit around absorbing theological texts and memorizing Scripture, would that mean I was leading the life God intended? Again, not at all (though in their own ways those things do stir my affections for God, but they are also areas that I must always submit to Him because they can also become prideful things for me: "Oh, look at me, I'm so smart reading these big books and whatever the current cool author is among people at the Village." I want to be reading them because God's leading me to do so, not to make myself look churchy.)

So: what the hell am I supposed to do? If even the good things in my life can be twisted, and in fact I am fighting tooth and nail every day so that I may experience the joy of God's presence in my life in spite of the fact that my heart still desires what is wrong, what am I supposed to do about it? How can I fix that?

I can't.

The more I wrestle with it, the more I'm forced to the conclusion that all I can do is what I'm doing, but continually, every day: going to God in prayer, asking Him to heal my sinful heart; seeking Him in the Word; I have to be watchful for what enters my mind that it doesn't lead me to selfish and sinful lines of thinking, and of what I allow myself to ponder, whether it's an image that will drive me to lust or an incident that will result in me being anything other than the servant of those around me. All these things I must do through difficulty, because they don't come naturally. I am also thankful that I don't have to do them alone. God has put me in a house with two other men who are likewise pursuing joy through battle, and in a church full of the same. God has brought us together for encouragement even when the enemy strikes--even when we are the enemy.