جارٍ تحميل الأرشيف الحي.
Part of the Paradoxology series
واصِل الاستكشاف
مرتبطة بالمقطع الكتابي أو بموضوعات مشتركة.
لم تُترجم هذه الصفحة بالكامل بعد. يظهر بعض النص أدناه أو كله بلغة English، وهي لغته الأصلية.
Good evening. We're continuing our series on Paradoxology, and tonight we're exploring what's known as the Roman Paradox—a seemingly contradictory reality at the heart of the Christian life.
If you haven't read the book yet, I'd recommend it. Each chapter offers far more depth than I can cover this evening. Two weeks ago, Jeremy Canvan spoke about silence as a paradox, and I encourage you to experiment with five to ten minutes of silence daily—it's harder than it sounds, but it does draw us closer to God.
Tonight, I want to explore three questions: What is the basis for this paradox? How do we value the objectives God calls us to? And what are we going to do about it?
Paul writes to the Romans about wonderful promises:
There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Since we have been justified through faith, we have peace. We are more than conquerors. God works for the good of those who love him. You have been set free from sin, and if God is for us, who could be against us?
Fantastic promises. Yet there's a troubling reality:
I do not understand what I do, for what I do I do not want to do, but what I hate I do. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?
Paul recognizes the tension. Those in the realm of the flesh cannot please God. Each of us will give an account to God.
So here's the question: Why can't God just deal with our sin instantly when we come to faith? Wouldn't we be better advocates for Him if He did? Does God somehow get pleasure from watching us fail repeatedly? Is God—in transforming us into His likeness—essentially ineffective?
That's the paradox we need to work through.
Joyce Meyer offers a crucial insight that shaped my thinking this week:
When you're born again, you're made holy in the spirit. There's a legal side to our redemption and an experiential side. Jesus made us right with God as a gift of His grace, but we may not still be acting right. He made us holy, but we may not be living a holy life.
This is the starting point: Becoming more like Jesus is a process. It's not a light switch, even if something radical happens at the moment of conversion. God isn't finished with us there. There's so much more to do.
When the Cooperative underwent massive change over the last few years, their CEO said something striking: "If we don't transform, we're going to die. We can't keep doing what we've done." They're investing roughly £100 million over ten years to transform their company.
Similarly, when we become Christians, we recognize the need for transformation in our lives. It could be radical, but most elements take time.
What does transformation look like for us? Paul lists the fruit of the Spirit:
Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
Whether you're at the very start of your Christian journey or many years into it, there's still so much to do. It doesn't matter where you are—the work continues.
But we live in a world that doesn't value these things the way God does. It distorts them:
The reality is: We all come to Christ broken in some way, and it takes time to undo what's broken in us.
Consider this: A kilogram of gold is worth about £50,000. But we don't value all things by physical weight alone. We value them by their content.
In 2011, a scientist calculated that the weight of the entire internet was about 40 grams—like a strawberry. Today it's roughly 160 grams. Yet companies make billions analyzing this data because we understand its value comes from what it contains, not how much it weighs.
The same applies to the Bible. A physical Bible might weigh 250-500 grams, but we don't value it for that weight—we value it for what's inside.
How do we value becoming more like Jesus? It's illogical to ignore the value of these fruits—we've already established we want them. The real question is: Is it a priority? Are we prepared to fight for it?
As the character Verbal says in The Usual Suspects: "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he doesn't exist."
We must be prepared to fight.
When we discovered asbestos in our garage ceiling, we had three quotes. The cheapest option was to simply dig a hole and bury it. But the contractor who did the job properly came with a full hazmat setup—head to toe protection, clean room procedures, even showering outside. He recognized the importance of doing it correctly because the stakes were high.
Similarly, there may be difficult times ahead in our lives. It's important to be prepared.
There's a beautiful line from the TV series Upright: "Every time you sharpen a knife, you're removing microscopic pieces—a tiny bit of destruction—so that we can be the best version of ourselves, so we can move through what we need to move through with the least resistance."
The Holy Spirit works like light in darkness. Frodo in The Lord of the Rings is given the light of Eärendil—"a light in dark places."
Sometimes the Holy Spirit illuminates areas we'd rather leave in shadow. It can make us uncomfortable. Do you ever feel irritated with yourself? Do you ever notice yourself watching or doing something, and inside you know it's wrong? Do you turn it off or stop?
Becoming more like Jesus will naturally illuminate areas of our lives that need to change. We can't stumble around in the dark and expect not to fall. When we wake up each morning, we need to put on our full armor: truth, righteousness, the gospel of peace, faith, salvation, and the word of God.
Without studying Scripture, meeting together as Christians, being honest with ourselves, waiting on God in silence, and being intentional about our desire to be more like Jesus, how can we expect to actually become more like Jesus?
So is God ineffective? No. God wants us to learn to live in the reality of who He has made us and what He's done for us, even while surrounded by trials and temptations in a broken world.
Learning to live in the tension of the now and the not yet is a challenge we must face. Even in difficult times, we can turn to His word:
We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
I want to leave you with something practical. Looking at the nine fruits of the Spirit, I'm challenging each of you: Ask the Holy Spirit to lay one fruit on your heart this evening—just one.
You could probably find space for all nine, but focus on one for now.
When you get home tonight or tomorrow, write that word down and put it somewhere you'll see it regularly—your phone home screen, the fridge, the bathroom mirror. Every day this week, pray about it. Be open. Ask the Lord what He wants to change in your life.
Ask yourself the hard questions:
Most importantly: You're not meant to do this alone. This is a safe place. If that one word has jumped out at you and you think, "I need help with this," there are people here who would love to pray with you. Bring it before the Lord and let us come alongside you.
