Perseverance leads to Proven Character – But Whose?

St. Paul writes to the Christians in Rome (Romans 5:3-5), encouraging them to remember

Tribulation leads to Perseverance,

Perseverance leads to Proven Character, and

Proven Character leads to Hope.

Modern feel-good pop-psychology churches most often focus interpretation of this scripture upon tribulation as a means of strengthening, and proving the strength of, our character. I wonder if perhaps it might be more helpful to shift our focus to realize that perseverance through the Lord’s grace and strength leads to us having proven God’s character, giving hope that He will sustain us to the end.

The word ‘dokime’ (δοκιμή) has been translated variously as trial (Douay-Rheims), approvedness (ASV), experience (KJV), character (RSV), probatio (Vulgate, proving/trial/approval/proof/demonstration), and proven character (NAS). William Barclay gives the sense of the original meaning as “Dokime is used of metal which has been passed through the fire so that everything base has been purged out of it… It describes something out of which every alloy of baseness has been eliminated. When affliction (tribulation) is met with fortitude, out of the battle a man emerges stronger, and purer, and better and near God.”

Faith in our own faith may, in fact, be more harmful than helpful, but if we place faith in God, He will never disappoint us. Proving our own character, in the sense of eliminating those base things which are an obstacle to grace, makes us a better conduit of that grace, but if we consider our character proven in the sense of having confidence in our character, we may find ourselves upon a dangerous road. St. Peter’s example painfully reminds us our own strength of character is insufficient, and confidence in that character, misplaced. Paul tells the Corinthians the power of God reaches its perfection in weakness. So much so that when he is weak, then he is strong. (2Cor 12) If perseverance leads us to trust in our own strength, we’ve missed the point entirely.

Perseverance through trial allows God to purge our character of that which is unworthy of entering His presence. Confidence in our own character gives us only a false hope that we’ll persevere to the end, but confidence in God’s character gives us hope with substance – faith.


1 Peter 3 – Women’s Adornment

I meet with a few men on Friday mornings for a bible study. We start bright and early (more early than bright perhaps), but my Fridays are blessed as a result. We’ve been studying 1 Peter, and today we hit 1 Peter 3:1-7, with the infamous discussion on wives being submissive to their husbands. We chatted about this being a continuation of the thought in 1 Peter 2 encouraging servants to submit to their masters and everyone submitting to governmental authority, but for me, the most interesting portion of our conversation was where I least expected it.

In 1 Peter 3:3-4, he encourages women to focus on the “hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit” instead of on outward beauty. “J” mentioned that Peter seemed to have some insight into women, to understand the challenge they faced and commented upon how there is “something” about a woman’s spirit that can enhance the most beautiful and make the homely appear lovely. “K” pointed out that even 750+ years before, Isaiah had to point out the same problem in the women of that day (Isaiah 3:16). “k” mentioned that the woman admired in the Song of Solomon is not particularly beautiful if you convert the physical description to a picture, but that her spirit made her beautiful in the eyes of her lover (which has some cool applications to God as the lover of our soul and us, His church, as the beloved). What struck me, however, was our culpability as males for this stereotypical tendency in the women we love.

It is generally accepted that a “good husband” remembers to express to his wife how beautiful she is, and a “great husband” doesn’t even have to remember; it comes naturally. But how often do we admire our wife’s hidden person? How often do we compliment her upon her spirit? As humans, we respond to positive feedback. If we men only praise our wife for her external beauty, why are we critical of her tendency to be “overly concerned” about her appearance? We have a duty to fulfill here, and it is not an onerous one. Let’s remember to admire the inner beauty of our wife as well as her outward attractiveness. By doing so, we encourage her to become even more beautiful, and that’s good for everyone involved.


Games and the joy of failure

I came across an interesting article with implications for game design and, perhaps, for the etiology of some addictions. In their study The Psychophysiology of Video Gaming: Phasic Emotional Responses to Game Events , Ravaja, Saari, Laarni, Kallinen, Salminen, Holopainen, and Järvinen discovered that “Not only putatively positive game events, but also putatively negative events that involved active participation by the player elicited positive emotional responses…” Interestingly, the reaction to failure was more strongly positive than the reaction to success, and the pleasure associated with success was primarily anticipatory, with a noticeable drop once success was achieved. It’s no secret that a game that is too easy, that presents no opportunity for failure, is quickly abandoned as “boring”. Game designers and Game Masters have long been aware of the necessity of balancing challenge and achievement. A “Monty Haul” adventure is generally accepted to be less “fun” than “Mission: Impossible.” So it is no secret that the actual or perceived possibility of failure is critical to the enjoyment of success, but the concept of failure as a source of pleasure was new to me.

The upside of this is that game designers have an additional tool to apply consciously in the quest to entertain and educate. The downside is the ugly intersection of this pleasurable failure with the unhealthy psyche. For individuals convinced at some level that they deserve to fail, whether by neurochemical imbalance, environmental factors, or an agent of the enemy of their soul, this quick and repeatable source of failure can be dangerous. The endless treadmill of MMPOGs are perhaps the most dangerous. It’s like putting a crack-dispenser in an addict’s bedroom.

This doesn’t mean I think games are evil or should be eliminated or restricted in some way. I am firmly convinced that games, storytelling through games, and the art of game design offer benefits to society, technology innovation, education, etc. that outweigh the associated dangers. Additionally, I suspect that perhaps this pleasure in failure may underly other addictive behaviors. Similar patterns appear to exist in addictions to work, unsuccessful relationships, spending, approval from others, food, pot, and other psychological (vs. chemical) addictions.

What I do suggest, is that mentors, parents, pastors, and others who care about someone demonstrating symptoms of addiction consider this as a possible underlying cause. In my experience, games stopped being a snare for me when I came to grips with my belovedness in the eyes of God. Human approval, even intense human love, was insufficient. People can be deceived or mistaken; God cannot. Only recognizing that the same God who knows everything about me loves me intensely was sufficient to drive the changes that took me from addicted and depressed to joyful and free.


Self-Importance Strikes Again

The text for my Friday morning bible study this week was 1 Peter 2:13-25. We discussed what it meant to suffer unjustly, turn the other cheek, etc. and had a difficult time identifying examples of what that would look like in practice. As we closed in prayer, the Holy Spirit pointed out to me that 1 Peter 2:18 instructs me to submit myself (as a wage-slave) to my master (employer), and I missed an opportunity to bring Him glory by obeying that instruction.

Wednesday night, someone mentioned in an email thread that I had committed to resolving an issue that night (after work hours). I had not, in fact, agreed to any such thing. My reply was “Err… nobody ever asked if I could do this tonight, but I will arrange to do so. In the future, it would be nice if I were asked before a commitment is made on my behalf so that if I’m completely unavailable for some reason, we can make other arrangements.”

My reply wasn’t so terrible from a human perspective, but this was a clear opportunity for me to put 1 Peter 2:18 into practice, and I blew it. I grumbled, drew attention to the fact that I was not being treated fairly, and essentially whined that I wasn’t being treated justly. This wasn’t a case where work was coming into conflict with family responsibilities, and I didn’t have an internal debate as to whether I should do the work; the only debate was whether I whined about doing it, or just did it, and I made the wrong decision.


Bringing God Glory by Wanting to Bring God Glory

As I thought more about the challenge to be more like Jesus, and considered the practical application of the desire to bring God glory, it was urgently impressed upon me that the key to bringing Him glory is to nurture the desire to bring Him glory. The desire that God in all things may be glorified (1 Peter 4:11) is both a prerequisite for, and the beginning of, doing so.

Jesus said that “My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit, and prove to be my disciples.” (John 15:8). Paul describes the fruit of the Spirit (Gal 5:22-23) and encourages us to increase demonstrate that fruit in order to bring glory and praise to God (Phil 1:11, Galatians 5:16, 2 Peter 1:5-7). My natural state is to desire my own glory; it is only through His grace that I can even desire to bring Him glory. It stands to reason, therefore, that the desire to bring God glory reflects His handiwork in my life, and thus brings glory to Him.

Jesus encouraged us to “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” (Matt. 5:16), but no matter what good works I might perform or good words I might say, if my heart isn’t in the right place, it’s pointless (1 Cor 13). C.S. Lewis, in Christian Reflections, summed it all up “For all our offerings whether of music or martyrdom, are like the intrinsically worthless present of a child, which a father values indeed, but values only for the intention.”