Doing ministry, work, and life in a hurried, harried, and crazy world

A friend asks, “How can I pray for your family today?”

I answer: “Pray that we’d finally learn the lessons of our disobedience from the past and really, truly die to self.”

—

We talk a great deal about this self-death in Christian circles. We echo words from the only Good Book and repeat them to ourselves on endless loop:

Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. (John 12:24 ESV)

If. It. Dies.

Bears. Much. Fruit.

We convince ourselves that this death to self is about doing a better job at following the rules — if I would study my Bible more, and lose my temper less, and stop wanting so much stuff. Maybe with enough self-discipline and self-starvation the dark and ugly imp of self will die quietly in his sleep.

Then I hear the words of the orphan-loving Prussian and imagine the firmness in his voice and softness in his eyes when he says, “There was a day when I died, utterly died.”

And I wonder, how? How do I slay the imp and silence his maniacal ravings that tell me even this life of Christian service is all about me? I’ve never seen a book entitled “3 Simple Steps to Die to Self”.

In the early morning while the house is quiet, I open the Word to Galatians. At the end of chapter 2, I see it again:

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20 ESV)

The imp cackles and reminds me once more that he’s very much alive and has no intention of dying quietly.

I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose. (Galatians 2:21 ESV)

I pause after I read these words and ponder. For the first time I see that Galatians 2:20, which is so often quoted alone, is inextricably linked to verse 21. The phases float through my mind, like clouds that can be seen but not grasped:

Life by the law

Nullifies the grace of God

Christ’s death has no purpose

Death to self

Live by faith

Not through the law

Before these words disappear into the rising sun, I pull out my pen and snatch them from the air. They seem more manageable on paper. I wrestle and rearrange them until they congeal into a tangible truth.

Death to self comes by faith not a greater effort to observe the law. If we attempt to die to self by observing the law, we nullify God’s gift of grace and say that Christ’s death was meaningless.

For the first time I see why I have never found “3 Simple Steps to Die to Self”. Like all good things, even death is a gift from the Father.

Just as salvation is a gift freely given, bought and paid for by the sinless Lamb of God, so is this death to self. It does not come from trying harder or being better or following the rules. It does not come by education, or feeding the hungry, or clothing the naked. I cannot earn it.

Suddenly, freedom washes over me as I realize the only one with the power to take life is the Father. My charge is to live by faith. The law reveals my sin to me, but does not contain the power to overcome it. As I seek Him by faith, the more I long for Him. The more I long for Him, the more I see clearly the sin in my life that causes separation. And just as a couple in love is drawn away from other people and toward one another, so I am drawn away from my sin to the One who is Love.

With no effort to muzzle the imp on my own, I realize that he has fallen silent. His mouth has been closed by the same One who closed the mouth of the lions. And while I know that he still draws breath, the gift of his silence is enough.