Diligence is a Virtue
Hey, there! It’s good to see you again. I was radio silent through September, but I’ve been thinking a lot about what I wanted to share next here. We’ve had family struggles, work complications, Holy Days, personal projects, etc. etc. It’s been busy here as usual. However, while all of that has been going on, I’ve noticed that my family and I have kind of settled into a comfortable lull in a lot of our habits, at least as far as our faith. Not derelict, just comfortable. A bit lazy. We haven’t done our daily reading as diligently as we had for the longest time. I hadn't spent as much time praying or listening to scripture or any of my usual sermons as I had been.
It’s been bothering me and my wife.
We’ve been noticing little fractures and frustrations building up more than normal. It has been a struggle. Recently–maybe two or three weeks ago now–I started listening to old recordings of R.C. Sproul, and I have found great encouragement and admonition in the words of that jovial yet stern old preacher. I don’t agree with everything I’ve heard him say–I don’t agree with everything anyone says outside of scripture–but I have really appreciated listening to his series on The Flesh, The World, and The Devil, where he examines each of the core Biblical components of the struggles faced in the Christian/believers’ life. A quick summary might go something like this: the flesh produces struggle through the “death throes” of our own, intrinsic, sinful desires; i.e., former addicts feeling pulled towards the bottle or pills, former adulterers being pulled towards lust, former thieves towards a little light shoplifting, etc. It need not always be an old, recurring sin; the flesh will pursue any avenue to gratify itself and set itself up in opposition to God. Then, there is the world: the world describes all the external things that pull and tug at us and our desires to get us to take our focus off of serving and honoring God and loving Him and our neighbors according to His word, leading us to put other things in His place and idolize something else. The “lust and pride” as John puts it in 1 John when he says: “15 Do not love the world nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 16 For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. 17 The world is passing away, and also its lusts; but the one who does the will of God lives forever.” (1 John 2:15-17)
You may have noticed that the world and the flesh have some overlap in their description. That is intentional; bear with me a moment longer and I’ll explain myself.
Finally, we have the Devil. The Devil is…the Devil. Surprise, surprise. Satan (literally “the Adversary”), the evil one, Lucifer, that old serpent, the first sinner, and the accuser. The Apostle Peter described him like this in 1 Peter 5:8: “8 Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” The Devil, according to R.C. Sproul’s interpretation, is exactly what his name implies: the adversary. The evil one. It is his corrosive influence that is all over the world in which we live, and his influence that beckons to our flesh, our selfish and sinful desires.
To be clear, “the Devil made me do it” is not and never has been an acceptable defense for any atrocity committed in history. He lays the bait–or, as James says, sometimes we lay our own bait (James 1:14)– but the onus is on us if we bite into it. Then, when we fall short, he is the one who accuses us.
I personally have been having a lot of struggles with the flesh over the course of the past several months, coming to something of a head in September. I don’t have a particularly hard life, but I find it easy to slip into the pursuit of comfort; I always have. I don’t think it is a sin to be comfortable or to seek comfort–scripture doesn’t support any such notion–but I do think that it is a sin to become addicted to comfort, and I have a tendency to fall all too readily into that trap. Take, for example, a recent fixation of mine: I have been working on designing a sci-fi tabletop game (in the vein of DnD) for myself and some friends and family. I have loved the process; I thoroughly enjoy writing, making characters, and telling stories. I like spending time with the people I love and making memories with them. None of that is bad. What is bad, however, is something that my wife pointed out to me this week: we’ve been wavering in our Bible reading for months. Months.
And I hadn’t really realized it.
Sure, I have been aware that we haven’t spent as much time reading as we did last year, but I hadn’t really registered how much less time until she and I talked about it. In my head, we had just gotten busy: my job takes a lot of time and energy (especially in summer); she’s busy with our son all day, every day; we’ve had illnesses and appointments, holidays and lazy days. Somewhere in the middle of it–several months ago–we started slacking off and letting those things be the excuse to get lost in our phones and in our writing and hobbies and everything else. Our diligence has wavered. Unfortunately, it has wavered in more than our reading schedule; in our prayer, in our personal study, in our home renovation, and several other ways that I’m either not thinking of or feel too embarrassed to talk about here. I have always struggled with diligence, and I cave very readily to the fleshly temptation to selfishly choose the easier options available to me, gradually walking towards worldier proclivities. Jesus said–as I’m sure you are all familiar– that, “10 He who is faithful in a very little thing is faithful also in much; and he who is unrighteous in a very little thing is unrighteous also in much. 11 Therefore if you have not been faithful in the use of unrighteous wealth, who will entrust the true riches to you? 12 And if you have not been faithful in the use of that which is another’s, who will give you that which is your own? 13 No servant can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.” (Luke 16:10-13) Now, this passage isn’t specifically referring to the personal circumstances I have described in this post, but the principle is still applicable: faithfulness and faithlessness are each powerful things by which our lives may be marked, and contagious to everything else we do. A recent sermon that we listened to by Paul Washer (linked here) has only helped to cement my sense of responsibility in this matter, being a husband and a father who will one day give an account for how faithful I have or have not been and what master I have chosen to serve.
Personally, my wife and I are glad–if a bit upset–by this realization that we have each had, but are choosing to learn from it and grow from it. We are reprioritizing several of our responsibilities and routines again to allow more time in the evenings to read together and are working at becoming more diligent in how we manage our time, to start. How about you? Have you found yourself slipping into a safe, lazy rhythm lately? I want to encourage you today to take an honest look at yourself and your family and ask yourself if you are being faithful with what you have. If you are, good for you! Don’t get comfortable. If you’re not, like me, then today is a fine day to stop what you are doing, earnestly repent for being so irresponsibly cavalier with what God has entrusted to you, and try again. The greatest truth in all of this is that God, in His compassion, made it evident to my wife and me that we have been negligent in our responsibilities and has been gently chastening us for it. (Hebrews 12:7) Even when we don’t do what we ought to do, He is still a loving Father. If and when you find these unfaithful areas in your life, be cautious not to double down or throw a pity party; I used the phrase “irresponsibly cavalier” with great sincerity earlier; every second you are alive and every breath you and I take is a gift, cliche though that may be. Don’t buckle under His reproof (Hebrews 12:5-6); accept it for the kindness that it ultimately is and keep walking forward in pursuit of Christ.