Arms Outstretched {Testimony, Meditation

I lay on my backside with my arms stretched up to the ceiling—no, to God. I didn’t know how to escape the torment. I couldn’t run away from the temptation, because it was with me, inside me. This temptation is like a shadow, it seems, that cannot be detached by struggling with hands and feet and teeth and sweat and blood. Everyone experiences this temptation, for I know that no temptation overtook me except what is common to all humankind (1Cor. 10:13). Like my shadow, it would always be touching at least one part of my body, because I cannot keep my feet off the ground for more than a few seconds. But even shadows are melted, dissolved, destroyed utterly, in the presence of the Father of lights, in whom “there is no variation or shifting shadow” (Jam. 1:7 NASB). What? Is the devil saying that even the Great Light would cause me to cast a shadow behind me? Not if his light also shines within me! So I wait for that day with longing when “the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb” (Re. 21:23 ESV; cf. 22:5, Is. 60:20)—to be surrounded and filled with light that overcomes the uncomprehending darkness!

I couldn’t escape my shadow as I lay there. As much as I affirm Paul’s command to “flee from idolatry” and all sin (1Cor. 10:14), I was on my back with no strength in my legs, because there was nowhere to run but upward, and I had no means to get there but the strong arms of my Father, to whom I was reaching. With plain confidence Paul teaches, “With the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it” (v.13). Some “New Age” sage may prescribe a remedy for escape, if he admits to avoiding sin at all, by means of inward contemplation or confessing that the body is illusory. I, however, had to pray to the Almighty; otherwise I would drown in my own shadow. To go inward would’ve been of great benefit only if I had a mind to consult my conscience or the Holy Spirit. But when I looked inward I did not set my mind of things of the spirit but on things of the flesh, and there was only death looming at the advice of inward contemplation. To say that the body is illusory would’ve given me adequate excuse, like the Gnostics conjure up, to dive into my sin, for if the body is an illusion, then the crucifixion of Jesus Christ is nothing more than a stage show (cf. 1Pe. 2:24), and also the sins committed by the body are illusions, and my conscience ought to be free in all lawlessness. But “we must not put Christ to the test” (1Cor. 10:9). No, I had to pray and trust. “God is faithful” (v.13), and only by the mightiest hand can his people be delivered from slavery (cf. Ex. 3:18-20). My help couldn’t come from my own devices. The priest Aaron was commanded to bless the people thus: “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace” (Nu. 6:24-26). Blessing comes from the Lord, the Lord, the Lord. I cannot bless myself and keep myself, my face does not shine with glory that can heal, and the storm in my mind cannot give itself peace. The Lord must look upon me and be gracious to me if I am to live another day.

On my back, I began to speak to him in sheer desperation, and I recounted to him everything that I believed, scrambling in my heart to gain some defense against the tempter. This was my honest prayer: “I believe that you created the whole world, and formed and filled it—establishing your law and imbuing it with your glory. I believe that you created the first humans in your image. I believe that you spoke to them. I believe that they disobeyed and were corrupted because of their desire. I believe that you are holy and require holiness of your people. I believe that you delivered your people from oppression in Egypt. I believe that you gave them the written Law to bless them.

“O Lord, I am confused. There is no written commandment against my sin, and if not for my conscience crying out I would not see any trouble in my soul because of this. A while ago I thought I heard a voice telling me that this was sin, and I thought it was your voice. But it is not anywhere written. How am I to know?”

I paused for a moment, and then continued, because God in his grace made my conscience bold: “I believe that you called Abram and gave him your promise. I believe that you call your people to live by the law of faith, not the law of works. Oh! Now I see, Lord. There was nothing written for Abram. There was only your presence. He heard and responded. Abram was called to a mystery and given a promise that he could not see, but he walked all the same, and he believed in the promises. His faith was credited to him as righteousness. So all whom you have brought into the glory of your Son are called to a mystery and given a promise that can only be seen by a faithful heart.

“It’s faithful obedience to remember what you spoke to me and keep the commandment. And believing that you have spoken to me, and that you do not lie, and that you have never changed since the beginning, and that you always confirm what is written in the Scriptures,—to keep the commandment can only be credited to me as righteousness. I will obey the voice of the Spirit and consider the true testimony of the written words.”

It was an important prayer. In my temptation I was inclined only to think of God as a set of written words, a volume of moral information. The devil will always try to reduce the living God down to an inert and lifeless code—portraying what the Lord says as an algorithm instead of something “living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Heb. 4:12). The written words are not God. For how can the Maker of the world be contained in paper pages and leather binding if “heaven, even highest heaven, cannot contain him”? (2Ch. 2:6) Jesus rebuked the Jews who searched the Scriptures assuming they could obtain eternal life in them, because really the life is found in Christ himself, and the Scriptures bear witness about him (Joh. 5:39f.). Jesus says the word was not “abiding” in these Jews, who had never heard or seen God (vv.37f.). He doesn’t mean that they hadn’t memorized enough of the Old Testament writings. He means that they were so full, perhaps even full of “sacred” knowledge, that they were unable to provide lodging for the words, in the same way that the inn in the city of David did not have room for Messiah (cf. Lu. 2:7). They knew the words well enough, but they did not have spiritual understanding, which comes only by the voice of the the Spirit.

Likewise, as I was there on my back, I had been regarding the written words of God while not regarding the Spirit, who had beforehand spoken to me about this sin. I remembered that the apostle wrote, “You shall be holy, for I am holy” (1Pe. 1:16; cf. Lev. 11:44), and another, “God has not called us for impurity, but in holiness” (1Th. 4:7); however, I would not let these words abide in me, to teach me what it is to be holy before the Lord. I would not consider these as applying to the sin to which I was being tempted. “This act has nothing to do with holiness or profanity,” the devil would say. “You did not hear the Spirit say that. It was your own thought. You have not seen the glory of God,” he would continue. If he can get me to disregard the Spirit, then he can get me to disconnect the words commanding holiness from the profanity of the sin.

But when I prayed there, the Spirit gave me words anew, reminding me of Abram and the faith that comes from hearing. The Lord reached down and picked me up. The Spirit’s arms wrapped around me and banished the shadow, relieved me from the temptation. My means of escape was not an algorithm, not a ten-step plan, not inward contemplation, not denial of the world. I was rescued by the abiding word of God and the fellowship with the Spirit, who brought the written words to life in me.

God restored me that day. Praise the Lord. I became again like the disciples after the resurrection: “They believed the Scripture and the word which Jesus had spoken” (Joh. 2:22). I believe the Scripture and the Spirit’s words. So I stood and walked away from the temptation, by the Lord’s grace.