How to Rout Sin

The truth is that we all sin. But it’s also true that we have the power to overcome sin. Consider Paul’s argument in Romans 6. He tells us that we have died to sin (Rom 6:2) and that the body of sin has been brought to nothing (Rom 6:6). He argues further that we are free from sin (Rom 6:7) and that sin will have no dominion over our bodies (Rom 6:14). This happened, says Paul, when we believed in Christ. Thus, we died with him in a death like his and were raised in a resurrection like his (Rom 6:3–5). In short, sin died when you believed.

Still, no one is sinless (1 John 1:10; cf. Rom 7). Remarkably, we both live with the power to overcome sin and yet daily battle sin. The tension between these two opposing principles will not disappear this side of eternity. Sin and the power to overcome it through the Spirit (Rom 8:4) describe the our life-long dual. This rough fabric of sin rubs against our flesh, causing all sorts discomfort and pain. At the same time, the smooth silk of holiness is a balm and refreshment to us. We wear a garment sewn with both cloths, though we true believers only want the garment of holiness.

It is because of this tension that believers must learn to rout sin. After all, if we have the power to overcome sin, we had better learn to use that power. A major reason why our fight against sin seems powerless is because we have wrong views of sanctification. There are about four ways people try to rout sin. The first three ways unconsciously weave sin into our coats, while the last way allows believers wear a a coat of holiness. To be clear, I am not advocating a sinless existence before Christ returns, but I am advocating that through the Spirit we can put to death the deeds of the flesh (Rom 8:13).   Continue at Wyatt Graham

Overcoming Spiritual Stagnation

A dark room that reeks of the musty smell that accompanies rot. Alone here, your mind wanders nowhere yet everywhere at the same time. A feeling of dread, loneliness or something wriggles through your bones. A sucking feeling in your gut tips you off that you are hungry but you are not sure. It might just be anxiety. All of this happened because of a keen experience of separation from God. A sort of spiritual anxiety. The Puritans described this feeling with the phrase, “the dark night of the soul.” They knew well about the malady of spiritual depression.

Spiritual stagnation is a problem that will bombard everyone at one point or another. Depression, fears and anxiety gush out, because we feel “separated” from God, from grace. We feel alone, sinful, dirty and unloved—or perhaps unloving.

Part of reason spiritual depression occurs, I am convinced, is because we have a wrong view of Biblical Change. We go to God and ask for ways to overcome our problems, our worries. We look to ourselves and our problems and then to God’s word for helps to our problems. Being lost in our issues, we seek help from God.

Not to throw out the baby with the bath water, one should admit a mixture of good and bad rises in this recipe. The good comes when we seek God in our distress. The bad comes about when we try to find the right “trick” to overcome spiritual depression. These tricks are sometimes hidden under the guise of “practicality” or “practical helps” in Scripture.

Sometimes, however, reading the Bible in order to attain “practical” helps or seeking only what is “practical” (a very popular word these days) becomes an Achilles heal for spiritual athletes. That which promises hope results in further disappointment. These aids crush the runner’s sternum causing a desperate gasps for air instead of the promised jolt of energy so-called practicality promises.   Continue at Wyatt Graham