The Footsteps of Another

The blood had long since dried on his clothing, and his breathing had returned to a normal pace, but he was tired. It was a weariness that did not contain itself to his physical shell. Indeed its very source was his heart ripped asunder, his will battered and bruised. The weight which had once sat upon his shoulders was gone, but a new weight now pressed from the inside out. He did not mind it so much… not as long as it meant the outer weight would not return. He knew that he could not bear that for another moment. He breathed deeply, silently reveling once again in his freedom. Yet he could not go on much longer without a rest. He looked to his surroundings. The darkness had become a murky twilight, but in the dimness he could see no hope of shelter or comfort: not a tree, a boulder, or even a small hillside. The land was flat, barren, and grey. Ahead of him loomed a great shadow, what he assumed must be the beginning of some great mountain range. It had been before him ever since the dim light had first penetrated the darkness into which he had ventured. Sighing, he sat down on the ground. It wasn’t long before he heard a sound off to his left. Allowing himself to feel surprised, he listened intently as the sound grew louder. After a moment, he recognized the sound as footsteps. Soon, the dark silhouette of a man appeared, walking slowly but steadily in his direction. As the figure passed in front of him a man’s features became momentarily discernable, revealing a dirtied face staring upward at the sky. The man began to say something, so desperate was he for the simple gift of conversation, but he quickly checked himself, realizing his foolishness. This other man was here, but that did not mean that he had been there. He had certainly not come across that same great chasm. There were many roads that led to this place. The other man was soon out of sight, and he was alone again for a very long time.

A Step in the Other Direction

A man drenched in blood stands precariously upon the edge of a cliff. With shoulders slumped, he peers over the edge; he sees nothing. Just beyond the tips of his feet there is only darkness. Glancing over his shoulder he is offered no change. The pressing darkness closes in from every direction. He hears voices, distant but clear; they are addressing him but they do not know his name. They speak broken shards of truth, piercing his flesh, causing the blood to flow ever more freely from his body. His breathing is ragged but his hands are steady, one tightly clutching a crumpled piece of paper. His head hangs but his eyes, though there are none to see, burn clear with passion. Blood flowing from his arm drips onto the wad of paper. Slowly, ever so slowly, the words become unreadable, lost forever to all who may one day desire to know what meaning they held. Just a few yards away from the man’s feet are the frayed ends of ropes, all that remains of the bridge that once crossed the vast depth before him. From the man’s other hand a knife now falls, the knife used to cut the bonds that once tied him to the other side. It clatters loudly against the edge of the cliff and then drops out of sight. He lifts his head and looks one last time across the distance, a final attempt to discern a glimmer of light. There is nothing. After a moment, he turns from the darkness before him to the darkness behind him. He takes a step. The weight upon his shoulders lightens; the change it is small but it is perceivable. It is freeing. He takes another step and then stops. He looks toward the bloodied piece of paper in his right hand and then lets it too fall to the ground. He knows that none will ever cross that distance to find it. He knows that his words lie safe out in the open. His breathing eases slightly as he continues his journey into the new unknown. Soon, the edge of the cliff behind him vanishes out of sight, though he knows it not for he does not turn again.

The Main Thing & Our Subjective Tendency

This morning I listened to an old sermon by C.J. Mahaney per recommendation of a friend. The message, “The Main Thing,” was given at the New Attitude 2001 conference; some of you may be familiar with it. Despite my friend’s praising words, I must confess that I did not expect to be particularly blown away by the content of the message. Don’t get me wrong: C.J. is presently tied for first place as my favorite living preacher, and I am always amazed at his gift of teaching; but in my pride I thought I could give a pretty good summary of what C.J. would say before even listening to the sermon. I had heard C.J. preach about the cross; I knew his little sayings: “The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing,” and “Tighten your grip on the Gospel!” Little did I know how little I knew. As the message began I wrote down some generic notes. I am sure I allowed myself to feel just a little bit prideful through the beginning of the sermon as I heard C.J. recount many of the points I expected to hear. I listened half-heartedly to the exhortation to keep the Gospel at the center of our lives, and the importance of fully understanding the application of the Gospel. Even as C.J. began to transition into why the battle to keep the main thing the main thing is a daily challenge, I only scribbled a few thoughts about forgetfulness and legalism as two daily challenges. And then he arrived at point number three. My pen began flying across the page, into the next page, and the next. I paused and went back to listen to quotes over again, or to expound upon points C.J. had made, or to simply hear again what he was saying. I am now going to attempt to compile some of his points and quotes alongside my own thoughts and present them as coherently as possible. I hope these words prove as meaningful and impacting to you as they did to me.

The battle to keep the main thing the main thing is a daily challenge because of our subjective tendency. Sinclair Ferguson says that “the evangelical orientation is inward and subjective. We are far better at looking inward than outward. We need to expend our energies admiring, exploring, expositing, and extolling Jesus Christ.” Life is a spiritual, relational, and emotional roller coaster not because that’s just how it goes, but because we so often look inward to ourselves rather than outward and upward to our Savior. We experience this roller coaster because we pour energy into our selfish desires and expectations rather than “admiring, exploring, expositing, and extolling Jesus Christ.” In other words, we must stop thinking about ourselves and start praising Christ, learning about Christ, and talking about Christ.

Self-examination is appropriate only when it is Spirit-led and Gospel-centered; self-examination which results in emotional depression, or even condemnation, is certainly neither. If we find ourselves giving into temptations to become downcast, or to despair, we will likely also find that we are looking inward and listening to ourselves. David Martyn Lloyd Jones poses the question, “Have you realized that most of your unhappiness is the result of listening to rather than talking to yourself?” How true this is, and indeed how easy it is to fall into the trap of listening to the small voice of sin in our minds. If we relax our guard but for a minute, sin can turn our emotional state of being completely around. The key is to remain vigilante, to keep the main thing the main thing. We can look to the example of David as he addresses his soul, “Why are you downcast, oh my soul?” Similarly we may cry out in times of spiritual depression, “Soul! Stop being downcast! Hope in God! Christ died for your sins!” We must hold fast the Gospel and constantly remind ourselves of its truth.

This looking inward rather than outward causes not only spiritual depression but also condemnation. The one who experiences condemnation often perceives God as disappointed in his efforts; at best he sees God as tolerating. The one who feels condemned maintains as much distance from God as possible, avoiding the care of friends or pastors. These feelings of condemnation, however, are an immense weight to bear. They exist only in our hearts and God is greater than our hearts. Christ died to take that weight upon Himself; to entertain such feelings is not only wearying, it is unnecessary and unfruitful. You will accomplish nothing by feeling condemned, because in truth you are not. In truth, you have been set free from all sin and all condemnation. Your feelings do not determine your standing before God.

Charles Spurgeon writes, “We shall never find happiness by looking at our prayers, our doings, or our feelings; it is what Jesus is, not what we are, that gives rest to the soul. If we would at once overcome Satan and have peace with God, it must be by “looking unto Jesus.” Keep thine eye simply on him; let his death, his sufferings, his merits, his glories, his intercession, be fresh upon thy mind; when thou wakest in the morning look to him; when thou liest down at night look to him.”

I wrote these words in my journal: Your patience is overwhelming. You do not grow weary of my failure. You do not give up on me though indeed I give up on myself. Your ways are so far above mine. You know when I rise up and when I fall. You know every tear I cry, every painful yearning of my soul, every shred of guilt, of despair. You know it all, O Father, and yet You remind me: I LOVE YOU. I SENT MY SON TO DIE FOR YOU. I KNOW WHAT YOU FEEL. I KNOW AND I CARE. Thank You, gracious and merciful Father. Thank You for the cross.

When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end of all my sin

Update: You can download the MP3 here at the Sovereign Grace Ministries store for $2, or you can order the CD here for $5.