There is nothing fancy or flashy or exciting about much of Christianity. It is death to self--over and over and over again.
We all crave a souped-up, sped-up Christian existence. At some level, we all want an exciting walk of faith. Confronting our sin, we yearn for immediate transformation. Observing geopolitics, we long for a quick strategic fix. Considering compromised leaders, we crave a righteous ruler, casting about for a godly magistrate. Raising our children, we snap in a fit of impatience, astounded at the lack of obedience to our authority (failing in the moment to see that we are not so different from our kids).
Our lives feature a serious tug-of-war battle between radical idealism and persevering faith. Though we know better, we crave the radical stuff. We want a microwaveable marriage, a painless childraising experience, a smooth-as-silk career path, an undisturbed community, and relationships with friends and family that perpetually brim with cheerful humility. It is not stupid or bad to want great joy, of course; it is right, quite right. But until the eschaton, it is not realistic to expect that our lives will fall magically into place with the flick of a spiritual switch.
Much of the time, this simply is not how things work. Much of the time, the Christian life amounts to a whole lot of God-powered patience, endurance, forbearance, forgiveness, humility, and steadiness. The quiet stuff, you could call it. You’re less like a lord of the cosmos, issuing orders and getting what you want on the spot, and more like a humble servant, filling your role and doing your duty. Yet the Bible teaches us that such persevering faith is doxology. This is living praise to God. This counts.
That’s just what Paul says, isn’t it? So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31). The Christian life isn’t the Christian life only when you’re walking astride the clouds. No, the Christian life is a life built for the trenches. It’s not so much a F1 sprint, kitted out in a car that goes so fast the human eye can barely track it. It’s more a long trek through a beautiful but dangerous mountain forest.
At the center of this God-glorifying trek: death to self. Dying to your ambitions. Dying to your “dreams.” Dying to your expectations for your life. This is a big deal, this last one. We’re all tempted, even as long-term believers, to think that we are truly locked and loaded with Christ. We have the pack on our back; we have the cool walking-stick; we have the trail mix (the good kind, not the super-healthy kind). We are ready for the journey, and whistling as we go.
But then, when we actually go where God leads us to go, we rear back. This is where you’re leading me? Here? No! That’s not what I wanted! I thought you were going to give me the desires of my heart! In such seasons, we discover this about ourselves: though we might technically be committed to “death to self” Christianity, it’s not hard for us to functionally disavow it.
Let’s sharpen this point: it’s way, way easier to be theoretically committed to dying to self than it is to actually die to self. Talking a big game about following God wherever he would have us go is one thing; going where God would have us go in a spirit of joyful submission and glad surrender is another ballgame altogether.
But glad surrender is where all the joy is, and death to self is where all the victory is. So Galatians 5:24 confesses: And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Our passions and desires fight us, yes, but they are in a losing battle. We are on the winning side, the side that has the cross and the empty tomb and the soon-coming King. We have the indwelling Spirit. We have the gospel, the living song of triumph in a world of defeatist dirges. We will song this song for all eternity, praising the Son who made us sons and saved us from the black-hole that is eternal death itself.
So, in sum, Christianity is not easy. But Christianity is glorious. If your lived Christian experience is hard, don’t wonder if you’ve got the plot wrong. This is almost certainly where God wants you to be. He is not withholding some great insight from you that leaves you incomplete. In terms that are so simple they’re painful, he wants you to die to yourself. He wants you to give up your own self-driven life plan.
In fact, while we’re on the subject, go ahead and do that: put that typed-out little life plan in the mental shredder. Bundle up those frothy expectations, and send them through the wood-chipper. Don’t do so morosely. Do it cheerfully, because whatever God has for you, it’s not merely different than what you had planned for yourself. It’s eternally better. Death to self, you see, is the path to life.
That is no easy way to walk, it’s true. But then, think about this: do you remember the easy half-mile strolls in your life, the ones that cost you nothing? Or do you remember the jaw-dropping hike through a mountain forest, a trek that featured sudden striking rainshowers, weird animal cries in the wild, delicious trail-mix feasting, tired and aching feet, occasionally confused meanderings (and even some wrong turns requiring retreading of past ground), and at the end of your journey, a spellbinding, never-to-be-forgotten summit featuring a sun shaking out its golden mane?
Just so we’re clear, the half-mile stroll is your life-plan, friend. The mountain hike? That’s God’s.