This past weekend, our group was in LLandudno (pronounced “Clan-dud-no”), Wales, for a young adult’s retreat. Our purpose was “sort of there to enrich it, sort of there to participate in it.” So, at the dinner tables I tried to keep conversations going and that sort of thing, but I also was a member of the congregation when it came time for sessions. The theme of the weekend was about the “doors” we have in our lives. I suppose you could say that the theme text was Revelation 3:20 “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” The speaker talked about the “one door” we have to the deepest, most secret place in ourselves. As I thought about that, I came to the realization that I don’t necessarily have one door, but many. I think in my own life, I compartmentalize different aspects of myself. In other words, I have a certain room (with its own door) for activity x, and then another door to another larger, more important room for person y, and then a very small, seemingly unimportant room with its own door to silly, useless thing z. What I began to ponder, and then truly realize, is that I don’t really have all these doors open to Christ. I like to think that I have the important ones open, but I can’t say that I have those lesser ones open. I realized this weekend, and am continuing to learn, that all the doors of my life need to be open to my Savior—even the ones I think need not be open to him. I can only imagine what it would be like for the LORD to rule in every room of my life.
But is there one deep, dark, secret room, whose door is shut and locked? I didn’t think so at first. Then as I began praying about it, the idea of sin came to mind. Is that ugly area of my life—the sinful nature within me—open to Christ? Better said, do I have that room in which sin dwells unlocked and open? Sure, it is, because that’s the essence of what I confessed upon crying out for Salvation. But in my day-to-day thoughts and prayer, how clearly do I open this room for Christ to enter?
You know, this sinful nature thing is really something I grapple with frequently. I think for the most part, I sin not because I am unaware of what is at stake in what I am about to do, but in full knowledge of the laws which I am about to break. I think this is the essence of Romans Seven. People very often times get distracted by how many times Paul uses the word “do,” but the concepts behind the “dos” are profoundly important. What sin is in my life, which I think is what Paul explains in this aforesaid chapter, is simply my choice to disregard the laws God has implemented. To paraphrase Romans Seven, I know that what I want to do is wrong. I know that I am no longer held captive by that desire to do what is wrong, so I have the complete power to not do what is wrong. That is, Christ gives me the strength to walk away from that temptation. But, I sin because I simply don’t care enough about the law, and what Christ has done for me. When I sin, I put aside that knowledge, power, and assurance and simply do what that sinful part of me wants. Then, I think to myself “Why did I just do/say/think that!” and then realize that I simply cared more about my own sinful, petit, unfulfilling desires than God’s law.
As I read the Psalms, I get this impression from David. I see this longing within him to follow God, abide by his law, and with regards to what I just wrote, care more being obedient to God than following his sinful nature. David yearns for this—this desire to be obedient.
“As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, ‘You shall be holy, for I am holy.'” 1 Peter 1:22.
