Ever since a few Saturdays ago, I've had the theological debate of "salvation by works" and "salvation by faith" stuck in my mind.
Since I know that about 50% of people who I absolutely know put some time down into reading my musings, I hope I do not alienate you because I said something overtly Christian because I think this applies to more than just an understanding of religion (and by religion, I mean of how man connects with God). On a more diverse spectrum, this debate has a lot to do with love, selfishness, trust, and addiction (or at least a kind of addiction).
So, upfront, here's my goal: I'll first talk about how I think this debate plays out in someone's life and talk about the problem it's solving, then I'll apply the problem and solution in a broad sense to just living a life without looking at religion, and I'll finally talk about how it applies in a view with God.
However, as I was writing this, I realized that I had written about...6 pages worth single-spaced in Microsoft word and I wasn't even done. Since I know that no one wants to read that much (because I know I rarely would put that much time into reading a blog), I've decided to give these different points their own blog.
I mostly did this because my friend told me to turn it into a trilogy, so I did. It also happens to make life easier for you, the reader.
I'm going to start by simplifying the phrase of "salvation by works" by calling it "trying to earn love" and "salvation by faith" by calling it "learning to receive love." I don't claim to be a theological expert on these things, so I cannot say with certainty that this is an authoritative way to view this matter, but it's what I see as a decent understanding of the two. At least whenever I argue with people, the debate ultimately comes down to if people can earn salvation (God's love) or if all they have to do is receive it.
Here's one reason why I do this: whenever I try to say something like "Our actions are important", I get met with statements like "It's impossible to do the things God tells us to do!" or "It's our intentions that matter" or "Salvation (Love) is a gift!". Love, grace, and salvation, on one hand, is understood to be something gift-like. However, when I do the opposite and try to argue that "we cannot do anything and need to rely entirely on God (things outside of ourselves)", I get met with statements like "You have a responsibility to behave well" or "Stop being lazy and making excuses." The other-hand of this debate is that love, grace, and salvation needs things to become better.
I see it work this way in relationships (any relationship really. Friendship, parents, children, romance): you have relationships where people try too hard to make something work when it was destined to fail to begin with, and you have perfect partnerships be ruined because one (or both) people fail to put in the work that needs to be done.
This is the question that comes to my mind: is love hard work or is love finding a soul-mate?
Is love about what you do or how you feel?
I used to be tempted to say that a good, mature relationship involves both hard work and a natural chemistry; it seemed to be just a matter of balancing the two views. With people, I am both relying on love being something given to me yet also something that I need to work to maintain. With God, it meant that He would give me grace freely, yet it was up to me to be in a place to receive it and then it became my responsibility to use it well.
I received love, and now all I had to do was maintain it. I received grace, then I could do good works.
All I needed to do was fall head-over-heels in love and then work to secure my happily ever after.
"But Tito, what happened a few weeks ago that changed your mind?" Well, thank you, me, for asking that rhetorical question. It sets this up perfectly.
Three weeks ago, I wanted to go to sleep early because the high school group that I help out at wanted to do a trip to an amusement park that is 5 hours away from where we live. The plan was that we drive down at 4 AM, get there at 10 and have an awesome day, then leave at 5 PM and get back around 11 PMish. The reason that I wanted to get a good night of sleep was because I was expected to help drive and it is next-to-impossible for me to sleep in a car. I figured if I slept well, I could help out more and help the other guys who were driving (who I knew were going to bed around midnight). It seemed like a win-win situation.
8 PM: I get in bed. I find out I cannot sleep.
9 PM: I realize that I've tossed and turned for a while and check my phone for the time. I realize it's been an hour and I start doing the usual things that would get me to sleep: lying still, playing some Gameboy, reading theology, counting sheep, cuddling with a pillow (the life of a single guy).
10 PM: My traditional methods are not working, so I do the next best thing: I pray to God that He helps me sleep.
11 PM: Now I'm just pissed off.
This might sound odd to everyone reading this, but bare with me. I legitimately was upset that none of this was working. I went to bed at a reasonable hour because I thought it was the right thing to do; it made logical sense. I ate a good meal before all of this, I tired my body out by going rock climbing and did everything I thought would help me sleep. I was doing this because I wanted to keep safe and keep everyone else safe too. It was, to my mind, the right thing to do. So why could I not sleep? Why was God not giving me peace? Why did it seem like God would rather me to fall asleep at the wheel and kill everyone in the car?
I think most people reading this will say I was thinking stupid things, and they kind of were. But I'm glad I didn't think I was being stupid at the time, and I'm glad still don't think that things I thought then were particularly wrong. I'm glad that I was able to honestly be pissed off at God because I felt He was fine with letting me die.
I should point out that I didn't think it was a good idea to be doing this day trip from the start. It was pushing me outside of my comfort zone because all I could see was the danger it was easily putting us all in.
Here's one fact about love that I've learned from this (in case you think I forgot about what I was saying before all this): Love pushes me out of my comfort zone. It has to. The only people I know who think that they're doing a great job at loving their wife or children tend to be very abusive towards them. Yes, love is comforting, but it is comforting in that it wants us to live honestly and to genuinely like our likable traits. It is NOT comforting in that it will not let us live in a lie, no matter how comfortable the lie may make us. So when I find that I'm being pushed out of my comfort zone, I don't think it's a bad thing. I also don't pretend that it is easy.
To pretend something is not hard when it is is called "suppression".
So I told God I was pissed off. I thought He was making no sense, so I picked up my Bible figuring it would be the fair thing to do (after all, it's best to hear out the people you're accusing). I opened to Romans chapters 7 - 10, the sections that talk about the difference between salvation through works and salvation through faith. These verses in particular stood out to me:
"For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God." 8:6 - 8.
"Because, if you confess with your moth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved." 10:9 - 10.
I think most people are familiar with the second one, so I'll put off explaining why I think it's important til later. The first one plays into the debate though. I said earlier that this was a debate between salvation through works and salvation through faith. A debate between having to earn love and a debate that love is a gift. Most Christians know and agree that salvation is through faith alone, as most people would agree that love must be a gift because you cannot force someone to love you, at least not in any meaningful sense. The problem is that it seems like you can be in a more....favorable or conducive place to be loved.
I cannot force a woman to fall in love with me, but I can work out, read, learn to play an instrument, pay attention to fashion, find out what's interesting to her, and work on my sense of humor. By doing all this, I make it....more likely that she will fall in love with me. It seems like, though I cannot make her love me, I can make myself a lovable person.
I think the Christian version of this would say something like "I can make myself a savable person." If I read my Bible, go to church, attend a Bible study, meet with my pastor, set aside time for prayer, and listen to nothing but worship music, I make it....more likely that God will talk to me. It seems like, though I cannot force God to talk to me, I can make myself a godly person.
That's the debate, at least from my perspective. We cannot earn love, but why does it seem like I can do things to make me more lovable?
When I read those first verses, my thought was simple enough: don't live by the flesh, live by the Spirit. OK, I'm doing that (obviously I am. I'm praying, duh), so why can't I sleep? I have that perfect balance between having received grace and am now doing good works. Grace showed me that I should be asleep, and my good work was going to sleep and practicing all the good sleeping techniques that I knew. But it wasn't working: my mind was set on "death". Literally. I thought I was going to die the next day. And if my mind was set on this kind of death, logically, I must have been thinking by the flesh.
Since I was, evidently, living by the flesh, it followed that I was trying to save myself. My "balance" was me trying to earn love.
Having grown up in the church, I've always believed in God and, so, whenever I heard someone saying that works come after faith, I felt pretty set. I've believed in God since I was three, so I know all the good stuff I should be doing. I've been able to do the good works, and, logically, it followed that I must have faith. It's like saying "I'm a decent person, so someone better love me."
Is anyone as vexed with this as I am? I try hard to do good thing yet it cannot give me faith. I can do things that SHOULD make me lovable but people can still not love me. Hell, I actually KNOW I'm doing the right things (one of the benefits of having studied ethics is you know that giant list of right things to do), but they never seem to work. I don't lie (much), steal, and I don't get violent. I even hate internet pirating! I tend to pursue my friends well after they've stopped trying to pursue me and, unlike a lot of them, I feel heartbroken when our friendship is over. But I have friendships end and I'm a morally good person.
So what the hell was wrong? How could I be both living in the flesh but also doing "good" things? How can I be doing what makes sense to be right but not have God not answer my prayers?
Good people do not do bad things. Bad people do bad things. It occurred to me that I needed to call a spade a spade.
Why was God not letting me sleep? Because I'm not supposed to be sleeping. How can I be living in the flesh but also doing good things? Because the things I'm doing aren't actually good.
I mentioned that this blog would include addiction of a sort. This is what I think my problem is: I'm addicted to myself. Not like a narcissist who only thinks good things of himself; I'm far too realistic to ever give myself that kind of love. No, I mean that, try as I might, I am the problem.
The problem is the I. The problem is that it all comes down to what I should be doing or what I can do, when the obvious answer is that I'm doing nothing right.
An alcoholic has a moment of clarity when they say "My life is screwed up because of alcohol. I do not have the power to change it. I need help." My moment of clarity went something like this:
"My life is screwed up because I cannot stop thinking about myself. I cannot force myself to stop thinking about myself, because then I'm trying to come up with my own solution. No self-made answer can help me because then I will always be congratulating me, and that's the problem. I'm far too willing to trust only me, and I only care about other people if they make sense to me. I need outside help, because any self-made or self-attained solution only perpetuates the problem."
I didn't trust my friends. I had to get sleep to drive, because if I didn't, I couldn't drive. If I couldn't drive, they would kill me for sure. That's what I was actually saying when I was thinking that I needed to get sleep. I need to be prepared, because the only person I can trust is me. I need to figure out what's wrong in my friendship, because my friend sure as hell can't figure it out. I need to figure out how to make my wife feel better, because she sure as hell won't. I need to figure out what God wants me to do, because He needs me to figure it out for myself.
I. Me. Myself. This falls on me because I am so great that I'm the only one who can do it. Or maybe I'm the only one who can do it because I'm the only one trying to.
When did I become so all knowing that I knew what other people are thinking and planning?
Truly great relationships begin with thoughts like "You're so great." How simple. How lovely. A brief moment where a person can completely step outside themselves and just enjoy the other person. A kind of empathy and compassion that rejoices in their beauties as well as suffering with their pains.
A moment where I'm not thinking about me.
(Note: This one was still pretty long. I promise the rest will be shorter. Setting up the problem is a pretty big task.).
