"Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light." (Matthew 11:29-30)
"From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing, and forceful men lay hold of it." (Matthew 11:12)
There's this great paradox in following Jesus: this interplay between helpless surrender and iron-hard devotion, between brokenness and determination, between rest for the soul and enduring hardship "like a good soldier of Jesus." Between the idea in Matthew 11:30—that of rest for the soul—and that in 2 Corinthians 4:8-10: "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body"—that we will be pressed to the very cusp of being crushed, though no further…even as we "rejoice always."
I think one part of this paradox—between the genuine difficulty of living the Christian life and the complete simplicity of abandonment to God—is of course resolved by Paul, when he mentions that our efforts are to proceed in the understanding that it is the Spirit of God working in us to sanctify us. What we are called to do as believers is impossible on our own, but is already being achieved through God in us; "those who are led by the Spirit of God are the sons of God." God's Spirit in us achieves what all our effort cannot—a life of righteous obedience. And this is not, of course, an external thing; our righteousness does not come from our actions or character, but the character of Christ living within us, Who has already done the eternal part. And yet our effort remains, and must remain. We do not grow lax in the Christian journey, although the destination is assured. We respond in dying daily to ourselves, in intentionally fixing our eyes on the Father, in scraping away the parasite of sin still clinging to the new man within. And it's this effort that I'm considering; this reality that it is hard to live the Christian life and even with the overabundance of blessings and direction the Lord has given me, I still wander. It's in the old hymn: "Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love."
Why is that? Why is such determination and commitment—and wisdom—needed to live according to the calling on a Christian's life…when God is the one growing us into His children? What is the real nature of this struggle; why is it so hard, in Oswald Chambers words, to come to a "moral decision about sin;" why do we not cull sin out of our life with all the revulsion we should have towards it? Why do we get distracted from this fundamental struggle?
And lastly, from the perspective of a Christian man, why is the growth towards true masculinity so difficult to fully enter into—why do distractions draw attention away from the central fight, making what effort we can muster often misdirected and unproductive? From my own perspective, two major enemies are a misunderstanding of what is required of us, and a hesitance to see spiritual warfare as what it is. Really, these two mistakes are tightly connected; maybe even the same thing.
As far as what is required of us…we focus way too much on the external, and not enough on the will. It's important to note here than emotions are not the will; Oswald Chambers when speaking of committing to Christ says, "It is a transaction of will, not of emotion." We confuse emotion and will too often, as well as passion and emotion; all are separate things, although passion is most closely relation to will. We show or see emotion expressed, and take it as evidence of a movement of will…but all too often (perhaps especially in our somewhat epicurean society) that emotion waxes and wanes without any true movement of will. And so in a sense emotion can be classified under "external"…it's something external at least to the will and to the core of what matters about us. As far as the external generally goes, it can blind us to the real opportunity for surrender and growth. Again, something from Oswald Chambers: "The real deep crisis of abandonment is reached internally, not externally. The giving up of external things may be an indication of being in total bondage."
And this ties into what I meant about a hesitancy to see spiritual warfare for what it is. I know for my part, I expect spiritual warfare to be expressed in the external—I think of extremes like casting out demons and physical healing, or in subtler ways like refraining from obvious sin and standing for the truth against persecution. As a man—someone hardwired to fight, to strive, to contend—I want spiritual warfare to be obvious and large-scale, some momentous commitment I must stick to, against an enemy that is tangible and visible (at least to my emotions). I think of Christian martyrs and defenders (historical and fictional) of the faith and goodness, and acknowledge the desire to be counted among them; I think if I could face a spiritual/moral struggle like that, I would be able to choose sacrifice and righteousness over compromise.
But it's much harder to see a creeping bitterness or resentment towards someone as every bit as much spiritual warfare as contending knowingly against a spirit of darkness. Or the subtle but absolute choice between entertaining temptation—even when surrendering is out of the question—and refusing outright to let temptation enter your heart. For behind every temptation is an assault by spiritual darkness; even unseen choices for good are victories. Prayer is the true domain of spiritual warfare. That is our struggle…to seek Christ in prayer, rather than allowing worldly thoughts to dominate. It's a humble endeavor, one that take place when no one in watching, when even you can't see the tangible benefit. It's about more than the common hours training you for the great struggles; in a very real way, the common hours are the great struggle.
And so the effort needed is a quiet effort, though fierce and complete. It's the effort of complete obedience in the small things, for of such things is life made. It's a matter of the will, and requires a steady will at that. Our rest is found on the other side of surrendering our will—our right to our self—to Christ. And that's the difficult thing…I for one am ready for the great struggles, but not the common hours of continual and willful obedience; and so it is only through Christ that this can be realized.
