But one passage in that devotional is still bothering me:
"The Spirit of Jesus is put into me by the Atonement, then I have to construct with patience the way of thinking that is exactly in accordance with my Lord. God will not make me think like Jesus, I have to do it myself; I have to bring every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ."
Clearly, he means "God will not force me to think like Jesus." Oh, I know. I was a wandering born-again Christian for a long, long time -- not thinking like Jesus at all, or barely. We are free to choose not to center our hearts and minds on Him. We can just live a normal existence, thinking about whatever the rest of the world thinks about. We're free to do that.
I also get the "I have to bring every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ" idea. When my thoughts wander off into "thinking about whatever the rest of the world thinks about" territory, I know it's time to get on my knees. Yes, we live in the world and have worldly issues to deal with, but living a normal existence in Christ is not the same as living a normal existence outside Christ.
Here's are some mundane but pointed examples: TV and the Internet. In my wandering days, I didn't feel the same constraints I do now. Take polarized debates about an Internet news article, for example. Have you read these things? Have you posted on these things? Well, let me just tell you that for the natural me, it is nearly impossible to resist telling off a cold-hearted Internet poster hurling personal insults at someone. "Wandering me" would construct a civil but terse, biting come-back to this post. I know why I am this way. I have something of my mother's "suffer no fools" temperament, and I have my father's language gift. I love to construct a good argument. I do still sometimes post replies to comments that make me angry, but I try to word what I say carefully, keeping in mind that I represent not just myself, but the Lord. I try to call out the unkindness, but without being hostile. On that forum I mentioned yesterday, I used to be known as something of a scrapper -- diving into arguments quite frequently. This has changed. I still speak my mind, but am careful and much more respectful. The feedback I usually get now is that I'm a productive, encouraging member of that forum. I intend it to stay that way.
As for TV, there are things I won't watch anymore. One of my favorite shows (this is about the only one left -- I watch virtually no TV serials anymore) is an intelligent drama whose central character is a woman in professional practice. The subplot of this story is her relationship with her estranged husband (who cheated on her), her relationship with her kids, and her relationship with one co-worker in particular. Without elaborating, overall the story is just a human story, but there are times when I say to the Lord, "I'm not letting You watch this part." I either turn off the TV, or I ride out the "won't watch" part in another part of the house and come back later. A lot of people would find this ridiculous -- they would either call me a prude, or they would call me a sinner for even turning the show on. What I'm saying is that the Lord has been building in me a heightened sensibility to things that make the Holy Spirit uncomfortable; it's my responsibility to extract myself from anything He tells me is inappropriate. Yes, I still watch the news, and sometimes some difficult (painful, frightening, even dark) storylines. But He is my compass. I listen. If I were to stop listening, I would be on the way back to my "wandering me" mindset.
So, in one sense, I understand what Oswald Chambers is saying in that passage, and I agree with it.
However, there is a qualifier -- that's what has been bothering me about that passage. It's what he doesn't say. He no doubt says it elsewhere, but to me it's not clear here. This is the qualifier:
I am not the source of my renewed mind. I am not the source of my obedience. These things are the fruit of the Holy Spirit, and they're His ongoing work in me. Even the submission that I do that opens up the holy conduit of our relationship -- even that doesn't originate with me. I can refuse His intervention, by deciding not to spend time with Him, or by deciding I don't care about His opinion ("it's my life," as the saying goes... which of course it isn't). But by willingly receiving His intervention and submitting to His Lordship, I am allowing Him to perform His work in me. And the work itself is His, not mine. I do not make myself think like Jesus. I give myself to Jesus, and in my obedience to His leading, He makes me begin think like Jesus.
I presume that the seemingly contradictory ways in which Oswald Chambers and I are wording this are really just semantic. I'm certain he means, "by obedience to His Holy Spirit, I bring my thinking in line with that of Jesus."
It's possible that Mr. Chambers and I come from very different life experiences. I speak as one who had the life-changing revelation that it's possible to be a born-again Christian for decades and not have a vital, transformative relationship with Jesus. He seems to speak as one who had a deep, growing faith over many years. He speaks from the perspective of someone who learned discipline and obedience and then lived in the joyful freedom of it. I speak as one who has just barely started learning these things. But to get from point A to B, as it were, I need to cling fiercely to what I do know, and that is that I myself know nothing. I can't be relied upon to change anything about myself. The only thing I can do is keep saying "Yes" when He leads me to say "Yes," and "No" when He leads me to to say "No."
And to keep letting Him know I adore Him.
Don't let me go for a minute, Jesus. Not even when I beg You to give up on me. I'm in this for the long haul. And I adore You.