2:30 AM on 19 November 2012
I’m no longer a believer.
Actually it’s been a couple days since I've been a believer. I honestly cringe at the idea of actually
explaining this again, but for the sake of remembering this for the future, I
will do so one last time.
I joined Coram Deo about 4 years ago during the “Gospel-Centered
Life” series. I entered through the “side
door” of their Missional Communities with my girlfriend at the time. She and I were looking for a church we could
both enjoy, and Coram Deo seemed to fit the bill. At that time I was in the middle of changing
from a Semi-Palagian theology to Calvanism.
I’ve never seen a church like Coram Deo, one that has such a firm grasp
of the gospel, and like Luther, seeks to beat it into the heads of their
community less they forget it. Yet along
with that, Coram Deo has a firm grasp of the Bible’s doctrine of
sanctification. They understand that as
we view Christ in the Gospel, we are made into his image (2 Corinthians 3:18) and that the Holy Spirit moves in our lives as we believe the Gospel
(Galatians 3:5). Yet it is this very doctrine that brings me
so much doubt. How have I changed? Defeat.
Defeat, and more defeat. That is
my gospel journey over the twelve years of supposedly being a believer. If the Holy Spirit
lives within me, then where is his power?
Why have I only changed in ways that can be accounted for by the fact
that I have lived for so long within a gracious and forgiving community? I have yet to hear a satisfactory answer, and
at this point I am barely alive. I know
that feelings must be checked with facts, but these are the facts. The Holy Spirit has been powerless within me,
or he is not within me at all. And the
truth of the matter is, I really don’t care.
The Father freely chose me by his grace when I was in my sins… and yet I
don’t really care. He saved me when I
deserved hell, and will receive hell without the faith which he graciously gave
me, and it all falls on me with no more weight than the imperceptible dust
which falls on my head now.
How can one be saved when he cares so little for his
salvation? Answer, he cannot. The lifeless bodies of Ezekiel could not will
themselves to grow new ligaments, new hearts, new lungs, and neither can the
faithless will themselves the faith to believe.
The Lord must call us to life from the grave, and salvation from
death. I don’t particularly care about
Hell, and how can I if I am unsaved? The
unbelieving may care about a Hell of fire, but not the Hell of God’s
wrath. We seek our own good without a
care of facing a God of judgement, or at least we prefer our own wills over
his. And so we go on unbelieving. We can’t believe, because we do not
care. And so my only conclusion is that
I am numbered among the unelect.
I still to this day believe that the Atheists with whom I
have had conversations, to whom I have listened via Podcast, or books, or
dialogue, all have a confidence which is unmerited. I don’t think they have adequately come to
terms with the Bible’s self-demonstration of divine origin. I haven’t heard any of them explain the Bible’s
collection of risky, accurate predictive prophecy, nor the resurrection of
Christ as described by the physician and historian Luke. Especially in light of the fact that many Biblical
fragments predate their supposed imperial conspirator, Emperor
Constantine. Perhaps the day will come
when I laugh at this statement, and God will turn out to be truly nonexistent altogether. But at this point, I believe that the Bible
is true, and I believe in Christ, but I do not believe on Christ for salvation.
Can feelings be changed?
It seems that the answer is locked away in the untenable. If I were to seek Christ in the early morning
hours before feelings of doubt and despair have a chance to get in my way
throughout the day, then perhaps I can redevelope the ability to feel my faith. Ravi Zacharias said it well when he described
the sensitivity of a wound “There’s a sensitivity to the spot placed there by
God to say, ‘Protect it! Protect it!’ You keep doing damage to that and you
will wound it in an even greater way.
What happens then when emotions lose their sensitivity?” Continual
insult to a wound will cause the feelings to become dulled. There is a possibility that I simply don’t
care because I have lost somewhere my ability to feel. I don’t really care about most people when I
really think about it. Ravi went on to
explain that many famous preachers have gained their profession because of a
renewed commitment to reclaim the early morning hours. Well… then I guess it really will be a work
of God because there’s no way in Hell that I am ever going to finally reclaim
the early morning hours. I might as well
be trying to take the One Ring back from Mordor, right off of the hand of
Sauron. It simply will not be done,
unless God is at work in me. And I see
no reason why he would suddenly start working on me with some kind of great
power now when he has not done so in the past…
Yet, if he was predictable, he wouldn’t be God. Yet I hold out no hope. You pray for me, reader. Whoever you are who has read this far. You pray for me; I will not pray for
myself. I hold out no hope that God
hears me. He has been cold and ruthless
to me, and I don’t hunger for him anymore.
And I don’t really care.
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