Always Despairing, Always Trusting

This article was due last Thursday, but I won’t get it in until tomorrow. Why? I could mention the increased demands on an already busy schedule, but the fact is that I have known about this project for more than a month, and I am now late because I failed to allow sufficient time to complete it when promised. Why did I do this? Because I’m a sinner.

I am writing this article on Monday. Instead of painting my living room (as I told my wife I would), I am sitting in a bookstore cafe completing this assignment. Why did I break my word to my wife about painting today? Because I’m a sinner.

When my wife questioned me for not telling her of my revised plans to paint next weekend, did I say, “I’m sorry, LuAnne; it was wrong of me not to tell you; please, forgive me”? No. Instead, I told her about my overly full schedule and how certain things “have to give” at some point. Then I bolstered my argument by explaining how hard I’ve been working recently (an argument, by the way, that gets little sympathy from a mother of five small children). Why did I respond this way? Because I’m a self-righteous sinner.

And to top it all off, when this series of events hit me in the face as being the best introduction to this article about “total depravity,” I still kept trying to think of other ways to introduce it. After all, I could at least save some face by referring to a more “distant” sin (you know, like pastors always do), a sin that I have obviously overcome in all my years of maturing in the faith. But the fact is that I am trying to find a way to put myself in a better spiritual light. Why? Because I’m a sinner.

Now you may be wondering whether you can learn anything of spiritual value from a sinner like me. Actually, I am wondering the very same thing. I suppose I could tell you that I have been a growing Christian for more than three decades and that many people think I am quite a respectable fellow. Maybe I could point out that I have a bachelor’s degree in Biblical studies and a master’s degree in divinity. But, then again, maybe it is a little too late for that.

The fact is that, in and of myself, I am morally depraved, and (not to change the subject or anything) you are, too. And that really brings me to the point of this short essay; namely, what does the doctrine of total depravity have to do with living the Christian life?

You should realize that this doctrine technically is to be applied only to the unbeliever who is morally unable to do any good and who needs to be awakened by the Spirit of God in order to turn from sin to Christ in faith. After we are born again, however, what happens to our total depravity? In short, it is no longer “total,” in the sense that those in Christ are new creations with a whole new capacity for doing good (2 Cor. 5:17). But our capacity for sin does not disappear. In the Christian’s heart there is an ongoing war between “flesh and spirit.” But even after rebirth, the Christian is still totally depraved “in his flesh,” and this understanding should affect how we operate as Christians.

First, we should remember that we live out the Christian life the same way we begin it—despairing of the flesh and trusting in Christ. The apostle Paul encouraged the Colossian believers to walk in Christ just as they had received Him as Lord (Col. 2:6). Elsewhere, He rebuked the Galatians for trying to be “made perfect by the flesh” after “having begun in the Spirit” (Gal. 3:3). And, of course, we can look at Paul’s infamous description of the battle between “flesh and spirit” in Romans 7. Regardless of whether this is Paul before or after his conversion, it is clear that he is portraying the absolute frustration of anyone trying to please God in the flesh. Paul concludes, “I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) nothing good dwells” (Rom. 7:18), and this is true for the believer and the unbeliever alike.

Second, Christians should exemplify humility and confession. Why do we so often defend ourselves when accused of wrongdoing? Not that we should plead guilty to every accusation, but we frequently deny any wrongdoing because we are proud sinners who prefer to overlook our own corruption. Instead, the Christian’s worship and daily practice should be characterized by humble confession and repentance.

Third, the total depravity of the flesh should cause Christians to view their acts of righteousness differently from moralists. This point is related to the first, perhaps, but it goes deeper. When the moralist does “good” (in his own eyes, not God’s), he feels good about (i.e., glories in) himself. When the Christian performs acts of righteousness (which are not perfect, still tainted with flesh, and yet display something of true righteousness), he should never pat himself on the back as if the goodness comes from within. Rather, he should give glory to God, the only source of righteousness, who has been working another miracle in the Christian’s heart.

Well … it’s time to leave the cafe. I promised my kids I’d take them swimming before dinner, and, of course, I have to go home and apologize to my wife. Even though I probably mentioned that so you would think better of me, thank God I can also sense something of the Spirit’s work as well, producing true repentance and righteousness.