help my unbelief.

I heard a phrase recently that changed me a little. A little more than 'a little,' actually, truth be told... but I can't say it changed me 'a lot.' I'm not sure why. I think it's because to be changed a lot seems like a process... Anyway, not the point.

The point is the phrase.

And the phrase was about sin, particularly in the life of a person who has survived childhood abuse of sorts. I am convinced that this (survivors of childhood abuse) is a huge majority of people on the planet and, sadly, the better part of this crowd has had the lies they've believed (whether by choice or not) validated by the church... if for no other reason than there are pastors and youth pastors who speak long before they think or even experience. And the speaking is done with such insensitivity, the damage is far worse than they could've imagined. I say this from experience. Too much talking. Always.

Back to the phrase, Megan:

It said, essentially, that 'sin' is a word we use so easily, so quickly and SO heavily, that we as evangelicals are saturated with this innate fear of it-- as if 'sin' were Satan himself. Yes, before you get all finger-pointing-at-the-heretic on me, I firmly believe that sin leads to death. It always has and it always will. It is the sad state of a post-Fall humanity, whether we like it or not. We're already dirty. We're already prone to self-absorption. We don't know anything else. And yet, somewhere in us… we do.

Anyway, back to the sin phrase.

He described the sin of self-absorption as, yes, legitimate sin--the missing of the mark. A focus on self where there should be a focus on Christ. But what began to eat away at the chains of fear weighing heavily on my understanding of myself was when he said, yes this is sin -- but not all sin is blameworthy.

Blame.

Now there's a word we like to throw around.

There's a fine line, to be sure, between being accused or shamed for something and being convicted by the Holy Spirit. I am no expert in deciphering between the two of these things, know this. I have a therapist for this reason. And while I learn this, while I go thru what she calls 'recovery' from childhood trauma and abuse of a variety of natures, I start to notice the differences.

If there's one I can point out, it's that conviction from the Holy Spirit is sure to discipline in a way that tells me I matter. Accusation and shame-based 'conviction' (believe me, this is a method evangelicals have used for many hundred years…) will tell you continually, by word or by deed, that you are not good enough.

Of course, it's true. You cannot save yourself--Truth tells you this just by being present. And being true.

That said, Truth does not continually place you in your post-Fallen state. Not good enough. Not clean enough. Not holy enough. Not not not not enough enough enough enough...

Yeah, we know. We got it. We're fallen. They ate the fruit.

We ate the fruit. We continue to eat the fruit.

We'd rather know than live.

It happened. And now we're stuck this way.

Only, Truth took form. And conquered Death at Death's own game. Truth may have even orchestrated the entire thing...

Thing is, even after showing Himself, we're still in this odd in-between place while the process of sanctification is underway. We've been regenerated, allowing us to see exactly how not enough we are. But if it weren't for Truth, whispering gently how worth it we are…

what would be the point?

All of that as a disclaimer to the following:

We, as people of regenerate hearts, continually accuse and blame one another of unbelief (as if it were something we could help), in the guise of edification.

We fool ourselves into thinking that we are trekking on the path of sanctification --the narrow path.

We are convinced that we are analyzing our selves when we're saying "Oh, I know what my struggles are. I know what my feelings are and I have the gift of discerning which of my feelings are good and which are bad."

Good. Bad.
Right. Wrong.
Black. White.

It's just that easy, right?

Belief.

Unbelief.

That's how it works. And if you aren't one, you're the other. And you should probably change to the "good" ones.

*sigh* You know, it's taken me 26 long years (if not actually about 87 human years) to come to an incredibly surface (so far) realization that there are actually very few absolute rights and wrongs in the world. Don't misunderstand me, I certainly believe in absolutes. And the absolutes are without question… absolute. I will not be shaken from that. But we have such a tendency of making absolute that which is not now nor has ever been or ever will be absolute. At all.

And it's continually masked by what we call 'de-compartmentalizing our faith.' When, in fact, we are only appearing to de-compartmentalize. The process of digging and cleaning out and truly de-compartmentalizing is quickly and heavily and INEVITABLY accompanied by…

*drumroll please*

unbelief.

Don't believe me?

Then feel free to read in Luke 7 (starting around 16 or 18 I think) about John the Baptizer in prison. John the Baptizer, guys. He's cousin to the Christ. He freaking jumped around in the womb when Mary walked in the door. Of all people on earth, in the history of HUMANITY who would KNOW the Christ, it would be John, right?

Right?

But when push came to shove, and his very life… his head…literally… depended on his confidence in the validity of Jesus being who He says He is…

He couldn't help but ask one final time...

"Are you telling me the truth?"

And how did Jesus respond? Did He respond with blame? "John, you worthless betrayer! Of all people to call me a liar, you? Depart from me."

Nope.

And why? Because it was not blameworthy.

Jesus had performed all of these miracles within the hour that John sent the message to Him. And His response was, "Tell him what you've seen."

Interesting that He wants us to remind each other... to be open and vulnerable about what we've seen Him do. This is how we remember what's true. Wonder how often that takes place...

And what about Mark 9? When Jesus casts a demon out of a little boy because the disciples couldn't do it themselves. And the father of the boy demonstrates the conflict raging inside any regenerate heart experiencing something of great depth:

I believe! Help my unbelief! he wails.

Help my unbelief.

I'm doing the best I know how to do.
I'm believing all I know how.

It sounds ridiculous when you think about it.
How can you make yourself believe something?




I don't think you can.
Your belief has to be given to you.
And for all your regenerate works and worship… you will never have belief unless you ask for help for it in the first place.

All that said, I'd now like to take a minute to vent about every Christian who has, in so many words, condemned my unbelief as if it were a pit I have chosen for myself. Yes, I am as much like Hosea's whorish wife as any of us. There are times I choose to fall when I could stand. I'm tangled in contradiction, sometimes of my own orchestration. Sometimes I only love those who love me first or back.

But when I look at these things...when I see them about myself--the sins blameworthy and the ones not blameworthy-- all that I can say in response is a pathetic plea muffled under tears and snot and bruises and blood...

save me.
turn the light off.
turn the light on.
I can't help myself.
I believe...
help my unbelief…

And to the eternal praise of the only One who is faithful to me:

I do not serve a God who blames.




To sum up:

I just think, as a general rule, people should suffer more before they talk out loud.

The end.