Audio Transcript

On Friday of last week, in APJ 1869, we looked at the terrible things Satan can do to people and to us. We saw that Satan can bring on physical suffering. He’s behind much sickness. We know Satan brought a thorn of physical pain into Paul’s life. He can even throw Christians into prison. Satan got Jesus arrested, beaten, and thrown on a cross. And just as he sought to destroy our Savior, Satan seeks to destroy our faith today. He’s very powerful. But he’s not all-powerful. Where Satan acts, he only acts “by permission,” and never with “ultimate control.” Nevertheless, he’s real. “He’s strong. He’s evil. And he’s on a long leash.” And even on that “long leash” of God’s providence, “he does terrible damage.” Those were the points from that recent episode. Satan is no joke.

But there’s another reality we must add to the mix. And it’s this: there’s only one “finally destructive weapon in the artillery of Satan.” Only one — one lethal weapon he can wield over you and over me. What is it? Here’s Pastor John’s answer in a 1996 sermon.

All the old high priests, remember what they did in the Old Testament. They had bulls and they had goats and they had doves, and they’d go into the Holy of Holies, and they’d take blood and spill it on the altar, covering the sins of the people for a year, perhaps, on the Day of Atonement. And they had to do it for their own sins too.

And here comes Jesus. He has in his mind, “I’m going to do a high-priestly work one time, and it’s over. No more temple sacrifices when I’m done because the blood I’m taking is not the blood of a bull, the blood of a goat, the blood of a lamb, the blood of a dove. It’s my blood. It’s infinitely valuable blood, and I’m going to pour it out one time.” Or another image would be, “I’m going to go in there, and I’m going to lie down, and I’m going to die. I’m going to do that. I’m going to finish this whole system of sacrificial offerings once for all by laying down my life that I might propitiate sins.”

“Christ strips the devil of his power in death by propitiating sins.”

So, the aim of his death is to make propitiation for the sins of his people (Hebrews 2:17). And the aim of his death is to destroy (or nullify) the power of the devil and his power over death (Hebrews 2:14). Christ strips the devil of his power in death by propitiating sins.

Propitiating Just Wrath

Now, we’ve got to deal with that word propitiate. It’s okay if you don’t know that. It’s not common parlance in American vocabulary. You won’t hear it on TV, probably, you won’t read it in the newspaper, and even Christians have pretty much dropped it, but let’s get it. Let’s just get it. Stick it in so you can use it now and then with people you ought to use it with. To propitiate, in the context of judgment and punishment for broken law, is to take away the wrath and the anger of the offended party. You propitiate their wrath.

So here’s God, the lawgiver, in justice and holiness, who has the expectation that people will love him, honor him, trust him, obey him, delight in him, and the whole world falls short of that expectation. And therefore, the justice of God kicks in, and he has a legitimate, just anger against sinners.

Now the solution to that is to deal with not only the guilt of sin, but the anger of God. We’ve got to get rid of his anger. We can’t. There’s not a thing in the world you can do to do that. Only one person can take away the anger of God: God. And since he’s just, he doesn’t just say, “Well, we’ll let bygones be bygones. I’ll sweep my anger under the rug. Sin is okay, and it’s not a big deal. My honor is not worth dying for.” Instead, what he says is, “I love you so much, and I love my honor so much, that I will send my Son as the high priest to absorb my anger.” That’s what happened at the cross.

He put his Son forward, and the Son willingly, in love to us and in love to his Father, lays his own life down on the altar of the cross — as a high priest and as the offering of the high priest — and God pours out on him the curse of the law. He became a curse for us (Galatians 3:13).

And in doing that, he drains every drop of the wrath of God against his elect dry. In Jesus Christ, “there is therefore now no” — what? — “condemnation” (Romans 8:1). This is glorious. This is what was meant when it said, “Oh, don’t neglect your great salvation” (see Hebrews 2:3). This is a great salvation.

Now we’re right on the brink of answering our question. We’re not there yet. We haven’t got it solved, but we’ve almost got it solved. The question was, How is it that the death of the Son of God, Jesus Christ our high priest, by propitiating sin, defeats the devil? How is it that the devil loses his power to destroy you through death because of that?

Satan’s One Lethal Weapon

There is only one lethal weapon in the artillery of Satan. If you’ve ever thought about this, listen carefully. There’s only one lethal, deadly, final, destructive weapon in the artillery of Satan. You know what it is? Your sin. Nobody goes to hell because of being harassed by the devil. Nobody goes to hell because of being possessed by the devil. Nobody goes to hell because of being oppressed by the devil. Nobody goes to hell because of seeing green apparitions on their ceiling at night and hearing weird noises under the bed, which are real. Nobody goes to hell because of that. People go to hell for one reason: unforgiven sin. Period. That’s all.

“People go to hell for one reason: unforgiven sin. Period. That’s all.”

Satan has one way to get you to hell: heep you from a savior and get you to sinning. That’s all. He can’t scare you — I mean, let’s get rid of our fear of this guy. He has one deadly weapon. Sure, he can rough you up. He can kill you. “He has thrown many of you into jail. For ten days you will suffer, and you’re going to die” (see Revelation 2:10). Satan can kill you today. This text does not mean that Satan’s hands are bound and that he can’t make you sick or he can’t make you dead.

It means the one who had the power of death to destroy you no longer has that power. “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55). It’s gone. Why? Because the law is satisfied, and sins are forgiven. And all Satan can do is look you in the face and just rage at you. And if you’re covered by the blood of Jesus, if you’re clothed with the righteousness of Jesus Christ, you can look him right in the face and say, “Be gone, Satan.” Or, if he rages against you such as to put you in jail, or to make you sick, or to kill you, you can smile back at him and say, “I’m free from the fear of this thing.”

Audio Transcript

Today’s episode is mature in its theme, so heads up to parents with young ears in the car or in the house. It’s mature in its themes. And I say that not simply because we’re talking about sexual sin today. That’s part of it. It’s also mature because we’re going to talk about the revolting nature of sexual sin and what it says about us as sinners. If you don’t think sexual sin degrades our human dignity, or if you don’t think sexual sins insult God, then you too are likely not mature enough for this episode either. That’s also what I mean when I say this episode is for a mature audience.

Our question comes from a young man. He doesn’t give us his name, but here’s what he writes: “Dear Pastor John, I’ve come to a sad point in my life where I am willing to sin without repenting. I’ve fallen into the sin of having sex out of marriage, of my own selfish wants and desires. This has caused me to seek out sexual pleasure through pornography and other people in private. Though I realize the mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual damage it does to me — and I’ve seen these effects very clearly in my life — I don’t seem to have the will to stop. I’ve read on excommunication throughout Scripture (Matthew 18:15–18; 1 Timothy 1:20; 1 Corinthians 5:11–13). And I realize it’s mainly a last resort for the church to discipline a believer. I have not been contributing to my local church, nor the body of Christ as a whole. My question is, Should I take the first steps in resigning and excommunicating myself from the church because of my sin? Though this breaks my heart to think about, I would rather dwell in my sin alone than claim Christ in public, all the while still blaspheming his name in my heart.”

Let me try to come at this question from two different angles. The first is a simple and straightforward answer to the question, “Should I take the first steps in resigning and excommunicating myself from the church because of my sin?” The second angle I want to come at it from is a plea and a warning, an urgent warning that I want to give to this young man and to many like him who are sinning and describe themselves as not having the will to stop.

I want to make this wider appeal and give a wider warning because in recent weeks I have received several other communications besides this question, where men are describing themselves as victims of the power of temptation over which they cannot triumph. In this particular case, here are his words: “the mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual damage” he’s doing to himself, he says — and he even goes so far as to say that he’s blaspheming the Lord’s name in his behavior, in his heart attitude. It’s all sin, and he knows it.

So those are the two angles from which I want to address this man.

Make No Provision

So first, a simple (I think), straightforward answer to the question, “Should I excommunicate myself from the church?” is no, you shouldn’t. That’s not what you should do. You should, number one, make no provision for the flesh (Romans 13:14). You know how the enemy approaches you. Cut off his path before he gets there. Block him before he arrives. Don’t walk along the precipice where you know he pushes you over. Get out of the river before the current surges toward those deadly rapids that he’s drug you through so often.

Second, go to your pastors, and tell them everything that you are doing, all the sin. Just tell them. Confess your sins, the Bible says, to one another (James 5:16). Ask them to help you and pray for you and fight with you. If you remain in sin, it’s their responsibility to lead the church to excommunicate you, not yourself. That’s not your job. The goal is not to get excommunicated. The goal is victory over destructive sin. You do your part. Let them do their part. That’s my first angle. Straightforward answer: no, self-excommunication is not what you should do.

You’re a Man, Not a Dog

But mainly, I want to say to this brother, and so many like him, that it is not noble to be a slave, or a dog returning to his vomit, or a washed pig rolling around in the mud. That’s not noble or admirable or cool. Let that sink in. Just say that to yourself.

In 2 Peter 2:19, it says that those who promise freedom through sin are themselves “slaves of corruption. For whatever overcomes a person, to that he is enslaved.” Slaves — slaves. Let it sink in, brother: slaves. Is that the identity that you want, that has power over you? “I’m a slave. Hey, everybody, listen up. I’m a slave.” Three verses later, Peter gets even more graphic and says, “The dog returns to his own vomit, and the sow, after washing herself, returns to wallow in the mire” (2 Peter 2:22). “Hey, everybody. This is my identity. I’m a dog eating my vomit. Come watch me eat my vomit. I’m a pig.”

So I’m asking you, I’m really asking you, is that worth it? You get thirty minutes of pre-orgasmic euphoria, and thirty seconds of orgasmic pleasure, and then days of feeling as noble as a dog in heat while the pressure builds to roll back into the mud like a pig with no soul. Let it sink in. Say it. Preach it to yourself. Is that the kind of human being you are willing to be?

“Nobody wants to be a fool, a dupe, a lackey, to be content with being made a fool by Satan.”

The reason the Bible describes your condition over and over as deception is so that you will feel like a fool, a fool — and you will refuse, absolutely refuse, to be a dupe any longer. Won’t you? I mean, nobody wants to be a fool, a dupe, a lackey, to be content with being made a fool by Satan. Really? Come on. Consider 2 Thessalonians 2:9: “The coming of the lawless one is by the activity of Satan with all deception [there’s the key word] of wickedness for those who are perishing, because they did not welcome a love for the truth so as to be saved” (author’s translation). “Deception of wickedness” — let it sink in. Wickedness deceives. It makes promises and snickers while you buy it — lock, stock, and barrel, deceived.

That’s how Satan does it. He tricks you. He dupes you. He makes a fool out of you. The Bible talks like this. This is Bible talk, not Piper talk. So wake up and say, “I’m not going to be a fool. I’m not going to be a slave. I’m not going to be a dog or a pig. I’m a man. So to hell with you, Satan. Get out of my life. I don’t belong to you.”

Stand Up and Strike

I mean, seriously. Let me be the voice of God to you for a moment — the voice of God to Job. God says to Job, “Get up. Get up off your four paws. Put on your two feet. I gave you two feet, not four cloven pig hooves to roll around in the mire. Stop sniffing around between the legs of another dog or mud and stand up on your two feet, not four. I’ll talk to you like a man. Are you a man? Then stop acting like a dog. I will deal with you like a man.”

For example, to use Ephesians 2:2–3, stop walking according to the age of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, in the passions of your flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind. So stop acting like a spiritual dead man, a zombie slave with a hook in your nose, led around by the spirit of the age and Satan in your own animal passions. I’m pleading with you. I’m really pleading with you. Let these words sink in.

I don’t think you want to be a slave. Really, answer me. I wish you could talk to me. Do you want to be a slave? Do you want to be a dog, a pig? Seriously, you are being deceived, made a fool of, and you are willing to throw in the towel? No, don’t throw in the towel. Are you really willing to let Satan make a fool of you, a lackey, a flunky, a powerless, helpless slave to your genitals? Really? Come on. Let this sink in. You do not want to let that be your identity.

If you want to concede defeat before Satan and the spirit of the age and the animal drives of your body, you are being duped. You are being made a fool of, and I’m crying out to you in this APJ, I’m crying out to you, “Wake up. You’re not a dog. You’re a man. You’re not made in the image of a pig. You’re made in the image of God. Stand up and strike your sin.”

“Your body is not yours. It’s Christ’s. It exists for his glory, not for mud.”

Listen, Christian man — not just you, but all of you, listen. You were bought with a price. The agonizing blood of Jesus was the price. You’re not your own (1 Corinthians 6:19–20). Your body is not yours. It’s Christ’s. It exists for his glory, not for mud. It exists to make Christ look magnificent, not for humping around on the back of stray dogs. You do not want to concede defeat and just roll over into the mud and say, “I’m a pig. I’m a dog. I guess that’s just the way I’ll be. I’m a fool.” No.

Submit Yourself to God

Here’s the word of God for you:

Submit yourselves to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you. (James 4:7–10)

Did you hear that last phrase? That’s amazing. “Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.” Yes, he will. Think of it. What does that mean? God wants you exalted. That’s what it means. It says he will exalt you. He wants to exalt you. Do you hear that? Not slave-like, dog-like, pig-like, deceived fools jumping from one orgasm to the next. Don’t roll over in defeat. Tell Satan where to go. Pick up the sword of the Spirit. Run him through. You’re a man. Christ has said he will be with you to the end. He will help you. If God is for you, who can be against you (Romans 8:31)?

So wake up, Christian friend. You are not destined for the fleeting pleasures of destructive sin. You are destined in Christ for fullness of joy and pleasure at God’s right hand forevermore (Psalm 16:11).

Begin where you are. This simple sentence, tucked away in C.S. Lewis’s book Letters to Malcolm, has the potential to transform your prayer life. In four basic words, it ties together a biblical vision of prayer that avoids two errors that often smother our thanksgiving and adoration of God and hinder our requests to him, especially in relation to earthly blessings and goods. Consider these errors, and whether you recognize them in your own life.

The first I’ll call worldly prayers. Such prayers, though offered by a Christian, are in reality no different from those that an unbeliever might pray. Twice in Matthew 6, Jesus draws a contrast between the prayers and aims of the Gentiles and the prayers and aims of his followers.

When you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. (Matthew 6:7–8)

Do not be anxious, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. (Matthew 6:31–32)

Jesus criticizes both the manner of unbelieving prayers (empty phrases and many words) and the aims of unbelieving prayers (anxiously seeking earthly provision and material goods). Christ’s warning implies that his followers can wrongfully imitate unbelievers at precisely these points. We can seek material blessings as our highest goods, anxiously craving and desiring them. And then, we can attempt to manipulate God into providing us these blessings, treating him like a butler who exists solely to supply our earthly needs and preserve our earthly happiness.

False Spirituality

In reaction against the danger of worldly prayers, some Christians fall into a second error, which we can call false spirituality: a pious refusal to pray for earthly goods at all. Because we see the danger of worldly prayer around us, we begin to regard praise and communion with God as the only true forms of prayer.

The only blessings we thank him for are spiritual blessings, the kind set forth in Ephesians 1. Thus, we praise him that he chose us, predestined us for adoption, redeemed us by Christ’s blood, forgave us for our trespasses, and sealed us with his Holy Spirit, all to the praise of his glorious grace. Likewise, the only requests we make to him are for spiritual goods — for holiness, for help to walk in his ways, for filling with the Holy Spirit.

Clearly, such prayers are good prayers. The falseness comes from the word only. We may not use this word directly, but we may still subtly begin to operate according to it. The only requests that truly please God are those for spiritual things. The only thanksgiving that truly honors him is gratitude for spiritual blessings.

This attitude ignores the plain and simple fact that Jesus taught us to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread” (Matthew 6:11). What’s more, it ignores the litany of passages in the Psalms where the psalmists seek God for deliverance from earthly enemies, ask him to supply earthly needs, and render him thanks for earthly kindnesses. The Bible is filled to the brim with thanksgiving and supplication for earthly provision and blessing.

And so, to avoid both errors, we offer spiritual prayers for earthly goods. And “begin where you are” can help.

From Pleasure to Thanks

Lewis commends this principle as a way of fostering worship and adoration. We often find that spiritual blessings, being invisible, feel abstract to us. However much we may want to summon a heart of worship for God’s attributes, character, and saving acts, our hearts struggle to get off the ground. Lewis’s principle encourages us to begin with the concrete and the present.

The earthly blessings that surround us, however minor, are present to us in ways that help us to begin. A warm shower, shoes that fit, a satisfying breakfast of biscuits and gravy, indoor heating in the middle of winter, the laughter of your children, a hug from your spouse — all of these are concrete blessings, extended to you with kindness from God. “His mercy is over all that he has made” (Psalm 145:9).

“Direct your attention to the mercies that press upon you at every side, and see them for what they are.”

Thus, Lewis says, rather than try to conjure up feelings of adoration directly, direct your attention to the mercies that press upon you at every side, and see them for what they are. They are beams of glory, striking our senses, giving us pleasure, and inviting us to chase them back to the sun. Every pleasure, Lewis says, can become a channel of adoration when we experience the pleasure and then frame it rightly as a message of kindness from our generous Lord.

Lewis, therefore, encourages us to attend to our pleasures and then to give thanks for them — to say, “How good of God to give me this,” elaborating on this with all the concrete specificity we can muster. “Thank you, Lord, for the smoothness of the table, the softness of my socks, the sweetness of the honey, the silliness of my son, and the wisdom and compassion of my wife.”

From Thanks to Adoration

Then, having given thanks, we follow the sunbeam back to the source, turning thanksgiving into adoration. “Such earthly blessings, O Lord, are simply the far-off echoes of your own bounty and goodness. These are but the fringes of your ways, and at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

From our first breath in the morning to our last conscious thought as we rest our head on our pillow, Lewis encourages us to receive God’s earthly kindness, to give thanks for God’s earthly kindness, and then to leap from that gratitude to the heights of worship, weaving in the spiritual blessings of redemption, forgiveness, and sanctification all along the way.

“The higher does not stand without the lower,” Lewis reminds us (87). And that’s why we must begin where we are.

One must learn to walk before one can run. So here. We — or at least I — shall not be able to adore God on the highest occasions if we have learned no habit of doing so on the lowest. At best, our faith and reason will tell us that He is adorable, but we shall not have found Him so, not have “tasted and seen.” Any patch of sunlight in a wood will show you something about the sun which you could never get from reading books on astronomy. These pure and spontaneous pleasures are “patches of Godlight” in the woods of our experience. (91)

Daily Bread, Heavenly Bread

The same principle applies to our requests. Though the Gentiles seek for earthly goods (food, shelter, clothing), Jesus does not tell us to cease praying for such gifts. Instead, he exhorts us to “seek first God’s kingdom and his righteousness” (Matthew 6:33), and then to pray for our daily bread.

We see this in the Lord’s Prayer itself. The request for daily bread is sandwiched between “Hallowed be your name” and “Yours is the kingdom, the power, and the glory forever.” In other words, our requests for earthly provision are framed and animated by our desire for the sanctifying of God’s name and the coming of his kingdom.

Framing the prayer for earthly provision in this way enables us to avoid the foolishness of unbelieving manipulation that Jesus condemns. How many of us have earnestly desired some earthly good, but instead of asking God directly for it, have asked instead for some spiritual good in hopes that he’ll see our spiritual request and throw in the earthly good for good measure? Is this not the equivalent of piling up empty phrases and many words in order to trick God into giving us what we really want? Is there not a fundamental dishonesty at the heart of such pious prayers?

Instead, begin where you are — with the desires and needs and anxieties that you actually have. The daily needs are real, and we are taught to ask for them directly. Bring them before God honestly, with no pretense or fakery. No doubt, our earthly desires are often excessive or misplaced. But the best way to reorder them is to bring them to God and let him do the moderating and refining.

“Prayers for daily bread lead naturally (or supernaturally) to prayers for heavenly bread, for the bread of life.”

In this way, we can begin where we are, but unlike unbelievers, we can press beyond where we are. We don’t seek merely the earthly provision; we seek God’s kingdom first, above all, as our highest good. Thus, as with gratitude, we ask for the earthly good, and then we press through the desire for the earthly good to a deeper desire for the heavenly good. Prayers for daily bread lead naturally (or supernaturally) to prayers for heavenly bread, for the bread of life.

Your Heavenly Father

Finally, don’t miss what ties all of these prayers together — the goodness of our heavenly Father. Why don’t we pile up empty and manipulative words for what we need? Because our heavenly Father knows what we need before we ask (Matthew 6:8). Why don’t we anxiously pursue earthly goods? Because our heavenly Father knows that we need them all (Matthew 6:32).

And this presses home the goodness of beginning where we are and asking for daily bread. Just the other day, I was burdened by an earthly problem. I could see no earthly way out of it. And so, I bowed my head and asked God for help. “I don’t know what to do, Lord. You will have to do something. Make a way.” Thirty minutes later, the answer came, clear as a bell.

Had I not prayed for the provision, I might have missed out not only on the blessing (since God does truly answer prayer) but also on the kindness and care of “our Father in heaven” (Matthew 6:9). When I begin where I am, I pray to him who knows my needs before I ask, and who tells me to ask anyway, because he loves to give good gifts to his children (Matthew 7:11).