The ripple and the hairpin: part 3
In previous posts we described the Christian life as being like a ripple in an infinite lake - as we grow in our knowledge of God, we also realise that there is infinitely more we don't know. This ought to give us humble confidence in our knowledge of God. Confidence, because we truly know a God who wants to be known and who has given us means to know him better; humble, because we progress only through God's gracious revelation to us, and we are aware of the finitude of our own minds and the possibility of going wrong.
Today's diagram has a similar dynamic, but explores a slightly different aspect of the Christian life. It's the hairpin - or, as musicians know it, the crescendo:
In music, this marking means "get progressively louder", but that's not the point here - in fact, a more mature Christian might find themselves getting quieter as they grow in the Christian life, appropriating the biblical wisdom that "when words are many, transgression is not lacking" (Proverbs 10:19).
Instead, consider again what happens when someone becomes a Christian. They get a new realisation about themselves and about God. Of course, this isn't the only thing that happens, but it's a necessary component of the change the Spirit brings about in our hearts. We realise a new thing about God - that he is holy and good; and a new thing about ourselves - that we are sinful and bad. As Francis Schaeffer put it, a Christian is someone who bows twice: we bow in the realm of Being, acknowledging that we are not God; and we bow in the realm of Morals, acknowledging that we are not Good. And so we realise that we cannot save ourselves, and must cast ourselves on God's mercy to avoid his judgement; and we find, wonderfully, that God's mercy in Christ is enough to pay for our sin and declare us righteous. Praise God!
The Christian mid-life crisis
As described when we considered the ripple, the Christian life is necessarily one of growth. We grow in our knowledge of our God, and in appreciation of him, and so we learn to love him and live for him. In other words, we grow in Christian maturity.
And just as in our physical maturity, it's possible to demarcate some discrete stages in the journey. Perhaps in the very early days we have a brief moment of pride in our knowledge of God - the equivalent of being atop "Mount Stupid" in the Dunning-Kruger analysis - but as conversion to Christ is necessarily a quelling of pride, hopefully this won't last long.
Perhaps then we become acutely aware of the big problem areas of our life - the ingrained habits and life decisions which require immediate repentance. We have a drug problem, or a gambling habit, or an inappropriate sexual relationship, or a habit of lying. We see some of the sin in our lives pretty clearly and we take steps - with the help of a trusted church family - to put some of it to death.
Then as we grow we realise that our sin problem is more serious than we thought. It's not just that we sin in big, obvious ways - we realise that we sin in all sorts of small ways as well. The subtle pride in our speech; the myriad lustful thoughts that flit through our minds every day; the selfish laziness which dominates our decision-making. Perhaps we read Jerry Bridges' book Respectable Sins and we feel utterly convicted by every page of it. But still, we're determined to take every thought captive and bring everything under Christ's Lordship.
But then, a few years later, we feel a bit stuck. We've made progress - we think - but there still seems so much to do. The same old sins we thought we'd conquered years ago still rear their ugly head with predictable, frustrating regularity. And what's worse, we find there's a whole load of other behaviour we didn't realise was a problem but now seems just - awful.
Perhaps this has come to light because of new situations we find ourselves in. As a wise man once said to me, you don't realise how selfish you are until you get married; but you don't really do anything about it until you have kids. Perhaps you thought you were a patient person until you got that new job and had to share a desk with (grits teeth) Steve. Perhaps you've fallen into financial difficulty and found you're stressed and anxious about it in a way you never anticipated.
Or maybe the change has come about just through hearing more of God's word. The convicting power of the Spirit has got past our defences and under our skin, and shone his spotlight on areas of our life which had previously revelled in the darkness.
Either way, we begin to feel rather wretched. Why am I still like this? Why do I seem to be going backwards? Am I really a Christian?!
This is where the hairpin comes in.
The hairpin
John Calvin famously began his Institutes of the Christian Religion like this:
Our wisdom, in so far as it ought to be deemed true and solid Wisdom, consists almost entirely of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves. But as these are connected together by many ties, it is not easy to determine which of the two precedes and gives birth to the other.
John Calvin, Institutes I.i.1
As Calvin goes on to explain, it is as we get to know ourselves - particularly our weakness and ignorance - that we begin turn our eyes to heaven. We are very prone to self-reliance; but as we examine ourselves we despair of ourselves and search for something better to depend upon. Indeed, "we cannot aspire to Him in earnest until we have begun to be displeased with ourselves." But on the other hand, we don't realise our own weakness and ignorance until we have come to know God:
But should we once begin to raise our thoughts to God, and reflect what kind of Being he is, and how absolute the perfection of that righteousness, and wisdom, and virtue, to which, as a standard, we are bound to be conformed, what formerly delighted us by its false show of righteousness will become polluted with the greatest iniquity; what strangely imposed upon us under the name of wisdom will disgust by its extreme folly; and what presented the appearance of virtuous energy will be condemned as the most miserable impotence.
John Calvin, Institutes I.i.2
So the knowledge of God's goodness throws our sinfulness into sharp relief; but as we see our sinfulness more, we realise how far we fall short of God's perfection. (One recent way this has struck home for me is talking with my children about Jesus' childhood. Living in lockdown together, I currently can't imagine a single day without some kind of grumpy self-centred screaming, and that's just me. And yet Jesus grew up with sinful parents and four younger brothers who didn't believe in him, and never, ever, once, ever, even had an unkind thought towards them.)
As Calvin says, it's difficult to know which comes first - the knowledge of God's goodness or the knowledge of our sinfulness. Either way, the more you realise the first, the more you realise the second; and vice versa. As Peter Kreeft says (describing something slightly different but related), "the height of the mountain and the depth of the valley measure each other" (Kreeft, Christianity for Modern Pagans, 64).
So because our knowledge of God constantly ripples outwards (assuming we're making use of God's means of grace - Bible reading and church and so on), our knowledge of his goodness grows ever upwards, and our knowledge of our sinfulness grows ever downwards. So - hairpin:
So what is going on in the mid-life crisis? What does it mean that we've been a Christian for 20 years and we still feel really sinful? Answer: we are becoming more mature. Christian maturity ought to feel like an ever-widening gap. We ought to think we're more sinful than we used to be; but not because we objectively are. In fact we're likely to be more like Jesus than we ever have been. One of the great joys of the Christian life is that, no matter how old and withered our bodies get, our best and most beautiful days are always ahead of us, rather than behind us. As Paul says: "Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day" (2 Cor 4:16).
(This, incidentally, is one of the reasons we need the church. It is very often hard to see my own progress in the Christian faith, as I have to live with myself 24/7 - I know the deepest secrets and urges of my heart, and they bring me shame which no-one else knows about. As George Orwell once said, "any life when viewed from the inside is simply a series of defeats.” But a fellow church member can encourage me by seeing my progress and praising God for the way he's changed me - and I can do it for them. Perhaps this is why Paul's letters so often start with words of commendation and praise - praise directed to God, but in response to the genuine fruit of good works in the lives of his recipients.)
But precisely because of our objective progress in the likeness of Christ, we are more aware of our own sin and of God's goodness. Our subjective understanding of the gap is so much wider. So what do we do when we feel that gap and despair?
Mind the gap
The solution is to realise what that gap represents. The gap between my appreciation of God's goodness and my appreciation of my sinfulness is precisely my appreciation of the grace of God:
In other words, when you first became a Christian, you knew you were sinful, and that Jesus was therefore very kind to forgive you. He had to bridge a gap to justify you. But as you grow in your faith, you realise you are more sinful than you thought; and that therefore God is better, and kinder, and more gracious than you thought. He had to do so much more to save you than you realised!
Where does this hairpin terminate? Like the ripple in the infinite pond, it never will. Because our sin is against an infinitely pure and holy God, it is infinitely sinful; and the more we comprehend God's goodness, the more we'll see our own sin in the light of it. And because we'll go on learning about God's perfect goodness for all of eternity, this gap will (in our own subjective experience) carry on getting wider. No wonder the song of the saints in the new creation is forever in praise of the Lamb who was slain - there will always be more depths of grace to plumb and to praise him for.
So what should you do in the mid-life crisis stage? When you feel more sinful than you ever felt, and wonder if you're making any progress at all? The answer is: give thanks. You're actually even more sinful than you feel right now. But where sin increases, grace abounds all the more (Rom 5:20) - God will always meet your sinfulness with 100% grace, and that grace - objectively infinite - will became larger in our subjective understanding every day. You are more sinful than you will ever realise - and more loved than you could ever dream.
Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!
Romans 7:24-25a