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I recently read an article entitled “We Have Taught Evangelical Men to Hate Themselves. I Was One of Them.”
The author of the article is a lifelong conservative evangelical and has grown up in many of the same kinds of spaces as me. This was not a deconstruction piece—this brother is striving to live for Christ daily. Yet the article aims to bring about a correction in the broader evangelical world and, in particular, in churches.
I found myself nodding along at several points, but as I worked my way to the bottom, I felt this sense of unease. Much like the increasingly popular works of John Mark Comer (see this), I fear the article lacks proper qualification. In other words, while the author says some very helpful things, I wish he had said more.
The article’s basic premise is that young men have been discipled to think of themselves primarily as sinners fighting an uphill battle. Even though Jesus has saved these young men, they’re subtly taught to view the Christian life in terms of their victories and failures in the battle against sin, and because they don’t have many victories to celebrate, they walk in shame and low-grade despair.
Consider the excerpt:
“Their churches are telling them they’re inherently flawed and that they need to constantly struggle and fight against sin, but often without the assurance that they have more to offer than just a mess. … [W]hat they’re left with is a word with lifelong consequences: struggle.”
“If you grew up in a conservative evangelical world, you hear the word a lot. Struggle. I struggle with lust. I struggle with feeling lazy. I struggle with reading my Bible consistently. I am struggling in my prayer life right now. I am struggling to love that annoying kid at school. Pretty soon, the ‘struggle’ comes to dominate the young Christian’s mental life. He comes to think of himself first and foremost as a struggler, and by extension, as someone who shouldn’t struggle because Christians are somehow supposed to be better than that. They are supposed to transcend the struggle and fly on a higher plane of spiritual life. Growing up, I felt like I was always struggling, and failing, and struggling again, only to fail again, which only perpetuated the guilt and shame and a sense that I simply wasn’t made of the right stuff for the Christian life. Add the mainstream cultural narratives of men and masculinity to that equation and it isn’t a pretty outcome. We know we’re sinners; we got the message on that. But we can’t seem to think of ourselves as anything more than sinful. I can only speak for myself, but I also see these trends playing out in the lives of other young men who grew up in similar contexts; we truly have trouble overcoming a deep and abiding sense of guilt and shame and that nothing we do will ever get us to acceptance.”
Again, I find myself agreeing with the author’s burden. I’ve seen this in real life. When Christians’ minds are dominated by their track record with sin or when they remain defeated by their behavior patterns, they will usually have a harder time believing the full scope of the gospel. If Christ has saved them, then they ought to be a people of hope.
Yet, I wish this article would press further and continue to develop the gospel implications we see in the New Testament. While we are a people of hope, we are also a people of waiting. And there is much maturing to be done in the wait.
Here’s what I mean:
First, I want us to redeem the term “struggling.”
I agree, many of us have employed that term as a fill-in for losing the battle. Yet, in the New Testament, “struggle” is normally used to describe something like sober hopefulness (Col. 1:29, 2:1, 4:12; Heb. 12:4).
As you might imagine, it’s not necessarily a happy term. In fact, the Greek term for “struggle” is where we get our English term “agonize.” But in most cases, the early Christians struggled or agonized as they trusted in Christ against persecution and the lures of the enemy.
Even though “struggle” may not be a happy term, it should be understood as a positive term. It should be a way to describe the against-the-grain perseverance that is the Christian life.
And we must be reminded here … Jesus wins.
Second, I don’t want us to minimize the importance of fighting sin.
Absolutely, every generation will wrestle to believe the power of Christ—the power to forgive sins, the power to take those sins away, to blot them out completely. Yet, that same power that gives new life also applies to the daily need to put sins to death.
Jesus offers total justification—there is no guilt or condemnation for any Christian. Likewise, Jesus—by the Spirit—provides spiritual animation. The fight is real, but it should not be a losing battle. In other words, spiritual maturity should look like two things in tandem.
Number 1, as we learn more about God’s heart and character over time, we’ll grow in our understanding of just how severe our sin really is.
But also, Number 2, as we spend more time nurtured in the gospel, we’ll become strengthened to sin less. Again, Jesus wins.
As a case study, let’s consider the apostles.
They put their sandals on one foot at a time, just like the rest of us. In other words, there’s no such thing as a “super Christian.” Yet, we would all likely agree that the apostles are really helpful examples to emulate in Christian life.
What’s the formula, then?
Taking their writings in view, I’d say it’s quite likely that after conversion, they sinned less than most of us on a daily basis—increasing holiness being a byproduct of agonizing against sin. Yet they likely felt the weight of their sin much more deeply than we do.
Look with me at some of their words:
Paul, in Romans 7:14-20
For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.
Peter, in 1 Peter 2:11
Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul.
James, in James 4:7-8
Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts …
The apostles knew that sin could never defeat those who find their rest in Christ. Yet, they took sin seriously. In their lives and in their teaching, they embraced the whole gospel. The gospel radically rescues us, wipes our debt clean, and transforms us to live out the freedom that Christ has purchased.
The Christian life, then, must be marked by struggling for Christlikeness. And let’s be honest, the struggle is real.
Like the author above, I don’t want to see young men, or any Christians, feeling like their sin defines them. I don’t want believers to think they’re failures in the church.
But part of embracing the joy of the gospel is addressing sin head-on. When we don’t, we need nudges from our brothers and sisters.
We need loving rebuke. We need a vision for holiness.
In the grace and power of Christ, let’s embrace the call to be strugglers.
As a bonus, let me commend to you the lyrics of this song.
Sing them to the Lord. Make them your own.
