Abandoning the Ministry, Clinging to Death

It began in seminary. Alcohol, well, tobacco too, became what comforted me in times of extreme stress - which were common in seminary, what with the papers, the readings, the language exams - all of which I felt were unjustifiably difficult and overwhelming, seemingly on purpose.

I got to a point where I smoked cigars and inhaled them. Actually, I chain smoked them literally all day long on my back porch with my laptop as I studied. The stress just kept building though, and I eventually found myself sipping scotch just to stay calm enough to concentrate.

Why did these things seem to comfort me, to soothe the savage beast?

I figured it out with tobacco first. I loved the feel of the smoke going into my lungs. Precisely because it was intoxicating, poisonous, ruinous - not to mention painful. I liked it if it kind of hurt. If it burned. If it made me feel like I was choking. Bizarre, right?

Why did that comfort me in times of stress?

After giving it much thought and doing much soul searching, I eventually figured it out, and I was so horrified that I quit smoking and haven't touched the stuff in over 4 years.

It wasn't that I liked it DESPITE the fact that it was deadly. I realized that I liked it BECAUSE it was deadly.

So what on earth does that mean? It means I liked it because it tended toward death. I liked it because it was like inhaling Death itself into my lungs.

This was my idolatry - I worshiped Death. Death was what I served as a slave. It was my master, and I was its slave. Therefore, Death was my false god that I spent so much of my time worshiping, adoring. And the more frustrated I got with my studies in seminary, I was comforted by the approval and acceptance of my false god, since I felt I was not getting it from the one true God.

Of course, this was because I had made my own secret bargain with God - one which he never agreed to, but that didn't stop me from holding him to it. You see, I figured that if I did what I needed to do in order to become a minister, then he would be obligated to make me a minister. And boy, as seminary got harder and harder and harder I got ever more resentful and bitter towards him for it. He was so mean and cruel to put me through such hoops.

And ultimately, I wanted to be a minister because I wanted THAT to be how I earned God's approval. Like Peter jumping out of the boat and swimming to shore to impress Jesus with how much he's willing to sacrifice to please him. And Jesus just sort of ignores it. And then Peter pouts till Jesus finally says, would you just feed my sheep already?

Anyway, I was pouting and petulant and resentful toward God because I had placed conditions and restrictions on our relationship that I had no right to put there. And it didn't work out so well in the end.

And as I pouted, I, like an unfaithful wife, took comfort in the arms of a lover. In this case, Death.

And yet, though I learned the lesson once with tobacco, I still embraced alcohol. So it should have come as no surprise that when my internship went horribly wrong, I turned to booze for comfort instead of the Lord. And I apparently needed a LOT of comforting.

It has taken a lot for me to finally see that the same thing was taking place with booze, only in a much more horrifying way.

It got to a point where every night I would drink until one of two things happened: either I ran out of booze or I passed out. Usually both.

Why?

Because I was embracing Death still? Sort of, yes. But more...intimately. I was, literally every night, indulging suicidal desires.

No, I didn't kill myself, nor did I ever try to. But I indulged those desires, even if only a little bit, like a man whose mouse clicks lead him into the murkier regions of the internet once in a while. He's not having an affair with a woman or seeing a prostitute, but he's just indulging his lust...just a little bit. So my drinking was the indulging of a lust of a very different sort...though just a little bit.

This eventually had a catastrophic impact on my health which reached a climax during which I very nearly died. That's perhaps a bit dramatic, but 50 years or so ago I sure would have died.

And that's when I realized that I had deceived myself into indulging these desires without even allowing myself to be fully aware I was doing it, and that I had further deceived myself into thinking that my indulgence was harmless, that I wasn't ACTUALLY killing myself. But it turns out I actually WAS killing myself. Just very...very...slowly. And it was my wicked heart that understood this deep down...and was perversely comforted in it.

How twisted and disgusting a sinner am I? I perversely assumed that because God wasn't fulfilling his end of a bargain that I had completely made up and imposed upon him without his consent, that therefore God had rejected me and didn't really love me because I hadn't REALLY proven myself to him and earned his love yet. How twisted! How perverse! 

There is the spirit of antichrist that lurks in my heart, preaching against the gospel of Jesus Christ, denying the truth that we are justified by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. And to support my delusions, I clung even MORE tightly to Death, my false god and the idol of my heart.

And as I laid there in the hospital, having nearly died and recovering, all of this reality came flooding into my awareness, and by the grace of God the self deception was melted away and the fog of my mind cleared at last.

And I found that I did not want another drop of alcohol. Ever.

And of course, as soon as you admit something like that, everyone says, "Oh, good for you, you're an alcoholic and you recognize that and you're ready to go to AA."

Not wanting to be arrogant and wise in my own eyes I thought, ok, I'll go and see what this is all about.

So I went to AA. I'm glad I went, but I'll never go back. You see, everyone there seemed to be stuck on the fact that they used to drink themselves silly constantly, and they'd get all teary-eyed about the fact that it was their 5 year anniversary of being sober or some such thing. This didn't make sense to me.

They also seemed stuck on the idea that the problem wasn't some sinful tendency within them, but the problem was some disease called alcoholism, which apparently you get at random like any other genetic defect, and of course it's totally not your fault. The problem was the disease, it's not your fault, and instead of drinking every day, you should participate in the program every day.

And it struck me that AA is actually a cult. So they were offering me a new false god to worship in place of my old one. It even had some trappings of Christianity.

I didn't go back. I was interested in discovering WHY I drank, WHY it comforted me in times of stress. And I wanted to get to the root of that sin and YANK IT OUT by the grace of God!

And you know, I've found that when you get to the root of your sin and expose it and confess it, it seems to lose its power. Funny how that works isn't it? It's almost like sin's power lies in its deceitfulness, but once it's exposed, it is revealed for the ugly thing it is and you don't desire it anymore. It's like flirting with what you think is a beautiful young woman online, only to find out it's some 50 year old fat man pretending to be a woman, who thinks it's fun to fool people.

What on earth would make me want to cling to DEATH as a lover, rather than Jesus Christ, the God who created all things and then left his throne, who took my sin upon himself and died on the cross, who rose again because Death no longer had any power over him, and who ascended into heaven and stepped into the age to come - all so that he could enter into covenant with and be united to his church, his bride, his people, among whom I am privileged to be counted.

Paul makes a similar argument in Romans 1. What explains me preferring Death to Jesus? Why would I choose this awful substitute over what I was created for? Why would I abandon natural relations for unnatural ones?

The answer is the same as Paul implies in Romans 1. It's sin. What other explanation could there be? I chose to embrace Death, not because Death is lovely, but because Death was the opposite of what I have been called by God TO embrace. As soon as God says to embrace life and live forever, the sinful nature screams that that's obviously the last thing I'd EVER want to do.

Have you weaved a similar web of self deception around yourself?

Yes, you have.

It's just a question of how deep the rabbit hole goes.

So what room is there for my self righteous condemnation of those who "destroyed" my life? It is excluded.

I have said for a very long time that a pastor under whom I served as an intern destroyed my life, my career in the ministry, etc. In some ways that's true.

But in far more important ways it's a lie - in my case at least. In my case it's a lie because the truth is: I DESTROYED MY LIFE. And I destroyed it only because God wants me to LIVE it. So I concocted some elaborate lie and pretended I hadn't, so that I could justify my resentment toward God and destroy my life in protest to his cruelty.

I am a worm, and not a man.

But when God looks upon this wicked fool, he sees only the righteousness of his Son and none of my sin. I will live for this God.

And if he asks me to abandon the ministry, then I do so willingly, and stand ready to do whatever else he desires because HE is my God.

Hear O Israel, Yahweh is our God, Yahweh alone. He is the sum total of my pantheon, and I will worship no other.