http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15610916/prayer-is-not-one-and-done
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My Flesh Was Crucified — So Why Do I Still Sin?
Audio Transcript
If my sinful flesh was removed, put off, in Christ, then why do I still sin? That’s a question we get often, rightly so. It’s a question that should be on our minds as we process the glorious truths of Colossians 2:11–12. Today the question comes from two listeners.
Max in Tulsa, Oklahoma writes in. “Hello Pastor John! My question is this: Does the born-again Christian still have a sin nature? I read Romans 7 and Galatians 5 and it seems to say yes, we do. But when I read Paul in Colossians 2:11–12, he says our ‘body of the flesh’ has been put off, cut off, and done away with completely. Or so it reads to me. Biblically speaking, do genuine Christians have a sin nature or not? Thank you!”
The same text raised the question for a listener named Carlos, who lives in the nation of Colombia. “Pastor John, according to Colossians 2:11, a Christian’s sin nature has been cut away. So why am I still tempted to sin? Why do I still battle with temptation if such a decisive work has been done in me, in Christ?”
“We can’t pursue the kind of life God calls us to live if we don’t know what happened to us when became a Christian.”
This question is so important because we can’t pursue the kind of life God calls us to live if we don’t know what happened to us when became a Christian. There’s a great deal of emphasis today, it seems to me, on what has happened for us in the cross, namely that our sins are forgiven, and that we are accepted, and that we are loved, and that we have eternal life. But there doesn’t seem to me to be as much emphasis on what has happened to us in becoming Christians, what happened to us because of the cross.
And it’s precisely this — what happened to us, what changed in us — that Paul emphasizes as the key to how we are to pursue holiness and love and righteousness and all the fruit of the Holy Spirit. So, it’s a very important question.
Buried and Raised with Christ
Sometimes we can get all tangled up in our terminology, and so, in answering the question, I’m going to stay very close to the apostle Paul’s terminology.
Max asked the question in terms of sin nature. Now that’s not exactly Paul’s language but I think if we stay with Paul’s language, we will answer Max’s question. Paul teaches that when we become Christians through faith in Christ, we are united to Christ so that his death counts as our death. And that’s true in two senses, not just one. First, it’s true in that the punishment we deserve for our sin was taken by Christ so that his death on the cross was our condemnation and so there’s now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
But the other sense in which his death counts as our death is that we really did die with him. In a profound sense, we really did come alive with him in his resurrection. And so the question that we’re asking is, in what sense did we die? What’s dead, and in what sense do we have newness of life?
When You Became a Christian
In him also you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God, who raised him from the dead. (Colossians 2:11–12)
So let’s start with the text that Max refers to in the Colossians 2:11–12: “In him” — so there’s the union piece, in union with Jesus Christ — “In him, you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of flesh . . . ” — now that’s the phrase he picked up on: “put off the body of flesh by the circumcision of Christ” — “having been buried with him in baptism in which you were raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God who raised him from the dead.”
So Paul is describing what happens to a person when he becomes a Christian, and he symbolizes that miracle in baptism, been buried under the water and raised up out of the water to walk in newness of life like a resurrection. So first, there’s a union with Christ. He says, “In him, you were buried and raised.” Second, this union is experienced through faith. “You were raised with him through faith, in the powerful working of God.” Baptism is an expression of faith. Third, in union with Christ, we died, and in union with Christ, we were raised. Some aspect of our being died. Something new came into being by this resurrection with Christ. Fourth, Paul compares this death in baptism through faith to a circumcision made without hands. So the analogy is that just as the foreskin of the male sexual organ is cut off and thrown away, so the body of flesh is cut off and thrown away. And we’ll come back to that in just a second (what is the body of flesh?).
This raises more questions: Who died, and who came to life, when we became Christians? And Paul describes who died in at least four ways. First, he says, “I died.” Galatians 2:20, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who lived.” So I died. Number two, he says our old self died. Roman 6:6: “We know that our old self was crucified with him.” Third, he says that our flesh died. Galatians 2:24: “Those who belong to Christ have crucified the flesh.” Fourth, he says the body of flesh. Now that’s a reference back to what we just saw in Colossians 2:11, the body of flesh. He says that in being buried with Christ, we have put off the body of flesh.
Now putting those four ways of saying it together, here’s what I conclude. In so far as I am identified with my flesh and in so far as my body is the instrument of my flesh, I died and my body died because my flesh died. Now, what does that mean?
What Is My Flesh?
What is my flesh? And here’s Paul’s answer to that question in Romans 8:7: “The mind of the flesh is hostile to God for it does not submit to God’s law. Indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh” — that is in the control and sway of this thing called flesh — “cannot please God.” So the flesh is not synonymous with the body. The flesh is my old self in its hostility to God. It’s insubordination to God. It’s inability to submit to God and please God — that’s my flesh. That’s what died when I became a Christian. God killed my hostility to God. God killed my insubordination to God.
God killed my inability to submit to God and my inability to please God. He killed me in that sense. And in the place of that old self of hostility and insubordination and inability, God created a new self. He calls it a new creation in 2 Corinthians 5 and in Ephesians 2:10. And what are the traits of this new creation, this new self that came into being when I was united to Christ and died and rose with him? Galatians 2:19–20 give a beautiful answer that says I died to the law so that I might live to God:
I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me, and here comes the key phrase I think, the life I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.
So three ways Paul describes his new self as a Christian. First, he’s alive to God. God is real to him, precious, beautiful, desirable. He isn’t hostile to God anymore, he admires God, he loves God, he trusts God, he’s alive to God. Second, his new self lives by faith in the Son of God. So he’s no longer insubordinate and self-sufficient and self-exalting, he trusts the son of God like a little child. He submits and depends upon the mercy of God in Christ. He’s a believer, that’s what came alive. A believer came alive. And third, another way to say it is that Christ himself lives in us. I have been crucified with Christ, it is no longer I, but Christ who lives in me.
The new self of the Christian is the God-loving, son-of-God-trusting, Christ-inhabited self. That’s the new creation that came into being when I rose with Christ.
Be What You Are
Now, Max is asking how this reality, not possibility, reality, these things really happen to us, we don’t make them happen, they really happen to us, how that relates, he says to my battle with sin. And the answer is that this way of understanding ourselves is the way we do battle with sin. Paul didn’t say, “Oh, since this glorious death and resurrection has happened to you, there’s no more battle of a sin.”
“Reckon yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. In the other words, be what you are.”
He said this new reality of life from the dead and this old reality which has died with Christ is precisely the way we fight sin in our lives. For example, Colossians 2:20, he says, “If with Christ, you died to the legalistic elemental principles of dos and don’ts — do not taste, do not touch, do not handle. . . .” And he’s explaining the false religion there. If you died to those, why are you submitting to such regulations? You’re dead to those. Don’t submit to them, be who you are.
Then later in chapter 3, he said, “You have died. So put to death what is earthly in you, immorality, impurity, passion.” So Paul did not say because you have died, there’s no battle. He said, “Because you have died, reckon yourselves dead,” Romans 6:11. Reckon yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. In the other words, be what you are.
Cleanse Out the Old Leaven
It may sound paradoxical, but it is a profound and glorious truth. God has made us what we are. In Christ, we are new creatures. We don’t make ourselves new creatures; we are new creatures. We act the miracle that he performed. He performed the miracle, we act it out.
Listen to first Corinthians 5:7: “Cleanse out the old leaven that you may be a new lump of dough as you really are unleavened.” That just captures everything right in one verse. You are unleavened, so get the leaven out. I just love it.
So, I say to Max and to all of us, don’t let your death with Christ in your new life in Christ cause you to shrink back from making war on your sin as though that conflict should not be happening. Rather, let your death with Christ and your newness in Christ be the happy, confident ground where you take your stand and put to death the sin that remains.
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How Can I Resist a Critical Spirit?
Audio Transcript
Today we address a critical spirit. The question comes to us from a listener named Alan. Here’s his email. “Pastor John, thank you for your insight on many topics in this podcast. My question for you is this: What does the Bible say about a critical spirit? What is a critical spirit? I assume holding high expectations is not the same thing as having a ‘critical spirit.’ So when do high expectations become sinful judgmentalism? And how can I fight against this tendency of focusing mostly on the failures of others?”
Wired to Be Critical
That last question is exactly the right question to ask for all of us, and I include myself here. John Piper is wired to be critical. I remember taking a personality test, I think it was Myers-Briggs, ages ago. And my letters came back. I can’t remember exactly, but I think it was INTJ or something like that. This is not the kind of person you want to live with. I remember they said, “Okay, here is your number, Piper, and here’s the narration of what that personality type is like.” And do you know what one of the mottoes was? The motto was, “There’s always room for improvement.”
Now, it’s good to know that about yourself, because it means that you’re a hard person to live with. Nobody likes to be under an incessantly scrupulous eye that basically says, “Well, no matter how hard and how well you do your job, it could have been done better.” I mean, that makes for a pretty oppressive marriage or Sunday school class or church. So I had to be really on top of the sinful proclivities of this way that I was just born. There are no excuses here. I’m not trying to make anything easy.
That’s why I say this last question is so right: What can we do, or how can we think, or are there steps we can take so that we do not become hypercritical people? And if we’re wired that way, can we be changed or exercise self-control to channel it into properly analytical efforts and not people-ruining ones?
Combatting a Critical Spirit
So what are the strategies that I have found in the Bible and in my own life that might be helpful here not to be a hypercritical or judgmental person? You’d have to ask my wife how successful I’ve been at this, but I’m sure bent on being better.
1. Recognize your own faults.
Let’s zero in on the word judgmental, just because Alan referred to it, and Jesus addresses it directly.
Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, “Let me take the speck out of your eye,” when there is the log in your own eye? (Matthew 7:3–4)
In other words, “I’m a super hypercritical person; I see specks everywhere.” But how can you talk about taking the speck out of another’s eye when you’ve got a log hanging out of your own eye? Jesus says,
You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye. (Matthew 7:5)
So, Jesus’s answer to the question of how not to be hypercritical about the speck in your brother’s eye is to be deeply aware of the log in your own. Now, I don’t think that means that the very thing you spot in the other person, which you think is a speck, is worse in you than in him. I don’t think it means that. That doesn’t work. But what it means is that there’s plenty about me, before God and man, that should disincline me to be quick to judge others for specks, because if I got the just judgment that I deserved, it would be devastating.
That’s, I think, the gist of what it means, and it really, really works. I mean, that has a deep effect on slowing down your criticism of others, or at least de-intensifying it, because you know that if God were to treat you with the same rigor that you’re now treating another person, you’d be undone.
2. Remember what you’ve been saved from.
This is really an extension of the first point. Never lose sight of what you have been saved from, or how much it cost, and how much remaining corruption there is still in you. And I base this on Ephesians 4:32: “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”
“We treat people better than they deserve because God treats us better than we deserve.”
Forgiving as you have been forgiven carries an implication. And the implication is this: being ready to treat people way better than they deserve, because we have been treated so much better than we deserve. So even though we don’t call it forgiveness when we are less critical at the front end of a relationship, the root is the same. We treat people better than they deserve because God treats us better than we deserve. And it cost Christ his life for God to treat us that way.
3. Give thanks.
Fill your heart and mouth with thanksgiving for everything. Ephesians 5:20: “[Give] thanks always and for everything.” Be an amazingly overflowing thankful person. In other words, be radically, radically grateful. Practice waking up in the morning with thankfulness, walking through the day with thankfulness, going to bed at night with thankfulness, because a thankful spirit pushes out a critical spirit.
4. Grow in love.
Meditate on what love is and how essential love is to the Christian. What does it mean to love people? And I think most of us should memorize all of 1 Corinthians 13. That chapter is only 13 verses long. It’s the most important chapter on love in the Bible. And you can memorize it in a week if you put your mind to it, and then say it to yourself over and over again for a year or so, and see what happens.
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (1 Corinthians 13:4–7)
Goodnight! Memorize that, say it and say it, pray it and pray it, until it’s you, and God will heal you of much of your hypercritical spirit.
5. Ask how criticism helps.
This is really pragmatic. People doubt the value of this, and I’ll explain why they shouldn’t. Ask yourself this: What good is it going to do for anyone for me to constantly feel so critical of others? What good is it going to do anybody — me or them? Now, you may think a question like that is emotionally useless: “So what? I mean that doesn’t change me. Asking that question doesn’t change me. It doesn’t help me.”
Well, if that were true, if that question were useless, why did Jesus say, when he was trying to help us overcome anxiety — which is just as hard to get rid of as a critical spirit — “And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” (Matthew 6:27). So, here’s my paraphrase: It doesn’t do any good to be anxious. It’s pointless. Nothing happens, right? Well, why are you anxious? You’re accomplishing nothing.
And I know a lot of people here, then, say, “Well, how does that help?” So say that about being hypercritical: it just doesn’t do any good. Now that’s not the only strategy, but add that to your arsenal of weapons because Jesus said that’s a good question to ask when it comes to a lot of sins: What good are they doing? Are you helping anybody with that particular bent?
6. Look at the world.
Cultivate a view of life, hour by hour, that is more expansive — bigger heart, global, universal, all-encompassing, God-entranced. Look at the whole of life. Look at the whole of the universe. Look at the whole of nature. Look how big it is, and look at all of its dazzling wonders, and be amazed at the world you’re walking through.
So my favorite lit teacher in college, Clyde Kilby, put it like this. (This is one of his resolutions for mental health.)
I shall open my eyes and ears. Once every day I shall simply stare at a tree, a flower, a cloud, or a person. I shall not then be concerned at all to ask what they are but simply be glad that they are. I shall joyfully allow them the mystery of what Lewis calls their “divine, magical, terrifying and ecstatic” existence.
So this afternoon, I’m walking back after chapel, across my revelatory bridge, listening on my phone to the history of the Baptists, and it hit me: Turn that thing off. You can listen to that while you’re brushing your teeth. You are walking under God’s blue sky. Look up. Look at those clouds, John. Just look at them. Let him minister to you. You’re inside all day long. You get ten minutes under God’s glory, and you’re going to listen to a book?
“A thankful spirit pushes out a critical spirit.”
Much of our hypercritical bent is owing to the fact that our world has shrunk down to the tiny little situation where this molehill of a speck in a person’s eye — this molehill of a problem — looks a hundred times bigger than it really is because we have made our world so small that this feels big. We have focused our lens so narrowly that we can’t see the glories all around us. So that’s number six.
7. Praise always.
Fill your mind and your heart and your mouth with praise. That’s very much like thanks, but not quite the same. Decades ago, I read this quote from C.S. Lewis. Tony knows it. Lots of you who are listening probably have heard this. Let me say it again, just because it’s so healing. Oh, my goodness. When I first read this, it just washed over me like a cleansing flood for how not to be a cranky person. Here’s what Lewis said about praise:
The most obvious fact about praise . . . strangely escaped me. I thought of it in terms of compliment, approval, or the giving of honor. I had never noticed that all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise. . . .
The world rings with praise — lovers praising their mistresses, readers their favourite poet, walkers praising the countryside, players praising their favourite game — praise of weather, wines, dishes, actors, motors, horses, colleges, countries, historical personages, children, flowers, mountains, rare stamps, rare beetles, even sometimes politicians or scholars. . . .
I had not noticed how the humblest, and at the same time most balanced and capacious, minds, praised most, while the cranks, misfits and malcontents [and may I add: hypercritical types, INTJ types] praised least. (Reflections on the Psalms, 109–10)
So there it is. The remedy to not be a cranky, hypercritical misfit is to be full of praise. So, fix your eyes on God and the wonders of his creation and redemption, and be filled with praise.
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Why Do We Pray for Our President?
Audio Transcript
Welcome back to the podcast. Welcome to June. It’s June 1, a Thursday — our first Thursday episode in a long time, but now part of our new routine here on the podcast, at least for the season ahead. You can now expect APJ episodes on Mondays and on Thursdays. No more sermon-clip Wednesdays. John Piper’s sermons are now being curated in a new podcast from Desiring God, called Light + Truth. So if you want your five-days-a-week fill of John Piper sermons — old and new — subscribe to our new podcast, Light + Truth. I’m sure many of you already have.
But on this Thursday episode, we’re back in the studio with Pastor John to field a question from Dustin in Indianapolis, Indiana. He writes this: “Pastor John, hello! In light of 1 Timothy 2:1–4, how are we to pray for unrighteous leaders? How about presidents and other politicians? How do you do it? And what specifically do you pray for?”
Let’s read the text that Dustin is referring to so that we can be specific.
First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. (1 Timothy 2:1–4)
So, Paul is calling for Christians to pray for all people. We focus on the kings, but it says “all people.” “I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people” — and then the kings and all those in high positions are a subset of “all people.” They are mentioned explicitly, I think, because they are especially relevant for the purpose of the prayer mentioned in the next clause — namely, that we may lead a life that’s “peaceful and quiet . . . godly and dignified in every way.”
So, I take the “all people” to mean that wherever we look in the world and see people who might in some way make decisions that have a bearing on the circumstances in which Christians live, we should give thanks — underline “thanksgivings . . . for all people” — for whatever proper role they fill. And we should ask God to incline their thoughts and incline their wills toward those decisions which carve out a space of justice and peace and freedom that allows Christians and others to live out our faith without physical resistance and without tumults and lawlessness and mob rule and war. That would include using their civil powers to restrain different forms of injustices.
Two Prayer Levels
So, there are two levels at which we pray for people in high positions. One is that they be saved. And Paul said in Romans 10:1, “My heart’s desire and prayer to God for them is that they may be saved.” He was referring to his Jewish kinsmen, whatever their rank — whether they’re a high priest or a synagogue ruler or just an ordinary Jewish person. He’s praying, “God, save my kinsman.”
So that’s what we do for all people who come into our mind. We ask God to save them, to show them the truth and beauty of Christ and to incline their hearts to believe and embrace Christ as their Savior and Lord and treasure. Our hope as we pray this is that they will then, if they have any kind of authority at all, see more clearly which decisions that they have to make are just and peaceable and freedom-loving, so that some measure of freedom and justice and peace can be established, so we can go about our lives without tumult or attack. That’s one level: salvation.
“The way the state keeps the peace and the way Christ spreads his saving rule are radically different.”
Even if the first prayer is not answered right away — namely, for their salvation — we keep on praying for them. Paul does not say to pray only for Christian leaders or only that leaders become Christian. In fact, it seems to me that Paul assumes in this context that most of the leaders Timothy would be praying for are not Christians. They’re mainly Roman officials at various levels: emperor, governors, military leaders, town justices, as well as some Jewish synagogue leaders and so on. They’re virtually all unbelievers; that’s what he’s mainly referring to. And the way we pray for unbelievers, besides praying for their conversion, is at the second level I’m talking about — namely, the level of providence. At least, that’s one way to describe it.
We know from Scripture that “the king’s heart is a stream of water in the hand of the Lord; he turns it wherever he will” (Proverbs 21:1). Now, that’s true of all kings and rulers, whether they’re godly or not. So, we pray that God, in his all-governing providence over unbelievers and believers, will incline the thoughts and the wills of non-Christian rulers to make decisions, even within their limited framework of right and wrong, that are just and freedom-producing and peace-producing, so that those things that would enable Christians to proceed with their ordinary lives would hold sway.
Peace, Not Power
I think the way Paul calls for prayer for leaders contains a warning for us of how not to think about the role of rulers in relation to the Christian faith. In spite of what I said about praying for their conversion (which is what we do for all people), that’s not what Paul focuses on in this text. Paul is writing in a situation in which civil authorities are virtually all non-Christian. They may be ignorant of the Christian faith; they may be neutral; they may be hostile.
So, Paul’s foremost thought is not that these prayers are prayers for Christian advocacy. I think this is crucial. He’s not telling us to pray that civil authorities would become a conscious weapon of explicitly Christian promotion of the faith. He’s thinking about pagan rulers who remain pagan but still are influenced by the providence of God to bring about, in their limited godless framework, some measure of justice and peace and freedom. Christians benefit from this as others do, but this providence of God is not an example of Christians trying to turn state power into an explicit promoter of Christ’s spiritual kingdom.
“We don’t pray as if the kingdom of God, the saving reign of Christ, is of this world.”
Now, the reason I mentioned that warning is because Jesus said to Pilate at his trial, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world” (John 18:36). In other words, Jesus was eager that Christians not look to civil authorities for the establishment of his kingdom on earth. The way the state keeps the peace and the way Christ spreads his saving rule are radically different.
So, we don’t pray that the state become an arm of the church. We don’t pray as if the kingdom of God, the saving reign of Christ, is of this world, or that it would be advanced through an explicitly Christian use of the sword. Rather, we pray that God would have mercy on us and on the world — which he aims for us to evangelize, in this text — and would cause the hearts of presidents and governors and mayors and legislators to make decisions that bring about justice and peace and freedom so that we can go about our lives of worship and godliness and love and evangelism and world missions.