Your Future Self Will Thank You

by Drew Dyck

  THE DARK SIDE

  So where did all this sin and dividedness come from? Answering that question requires taking a quick trip back to the first chapters of Genesis. Far before researchers were conducting self-control experiments in drab, windowless rooms, humanity’s willpower was put to the ultimate test in a lush garden. It started out promising. God created the first humans, Adam and Eve, in His image and appointed them stewards of His good creation. They enjoyed unbroken intimacy with their Creator and each other. They were given only one restriction: “you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die” (Gen. 2:17). Call it the first self-control test of all time. And if you went to Sunday school, you know what happened.

  They failed. Miserably. Eve bit the apple (or whatever the fruit was), Adam finished it off, and proceeded to blame his wife for the whole thing.

  We’ve been biting and blaming ever since.

  Whatever you think of the Genesis narrative, it’s hard to deny its explanatory power. It makes sense of an age-old paradox we encounter in human nature. How can we be so selfless and splendid one moment and so sinful and stupid the next? Genesis provides a rather elegant answer. Our capacity for selflessness and splendor comes from the fact that we were made in the image of God. Our sinfulness and stupidity? That traces back to the fall. Because of our ancient ancestors’ fateful decision, there’s a bentness to our nature. We have an inborn tendency to mess up, to choose sin and selfishness over holiness and intimacy with God and each other. It’s what makes the business of controlling our behavior so difficult. Even when we desire to do what’s right, we slam headlong into this internal barrier.

  It’s important not to underplay this reality. We might be tempted to say we’re a tad mischievous, a bit naughty. But the reality Scripture describes is more sinister. The Bible states that our hearts are “deceitful” and “desperately wicked.” Jesus described the heart as the birthplace of “evil thoughts—murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander” (Matt. 15:19). It seems our hearts are crowded with destructive impulses straining for expression. And these destructive urges routinely win out. As theologian Marguerite Shuster writes, “the reservoir of evil in all of us is deeper than we know, and … barriers against its eruption are shockingly fragile.”1

  I’m sorry to go dark on you, especially this early in our journey together. But if we’re going to understand why we fail to control ourselves, I believe we have to begin with an honest appraisal of human nature. And the truth is, though we like to dismiss evil as an antiquated notion or an external reality, the truth is more uncomfortable. It’s alive and well. In you. And me.

  I don’t like it either. I’ll gladly accept the made-in-God’s-image part. That’s elevating, dignifying. In fact, I can’t imagine more auspicious origins. But this idea of being fallen is unpleasant. Are you telling me I have an inbuilt propensity for sin and selfishness and there’s nothing I can do about it? That evil is somehow stitched into the fabric of my DNA? Actually, that’s more than unpleasant. It’s downright rude.

  Of course I could always snap my Bible shut and turn on the TV or radio. There I’m likely to encounter a very different message about myself. I’ll probably hear that I have unlimited potential, and that my troubles would disappear if I just believed in myself a little more. I certainly won’t hear that I’m weak, flawed, or (gasp!) sinful. No, I’ll be assured that I’m beautiful, powerful, and capable of achieving virtually anything. Just love myself and unleash my multisplendored awesomeness cuz baby I’m a firework!

  Okay, I borrowed that last line from pop singer Katy Perry, but it illustrates my point. It captures the message we hear emanating from the broader culture, the one you hear articulated ad nauseam through songs and sitcoms and repeated by athletes, actors, and reality TV stars. And it can be very appealing, especially when set next to the Bible’s rather grim assessment of human nature. I’d love to take refuge in this narrative and get down to the business of freeing the rainbowy goodness pent up in my heart. The only problem is I don’t buy it. I’ve been at this being-a-human thing for four decades now and the evidence is in. I’m a son of Adam. I’m an apple-biter. I’m a blamer. Heck, just this morning I lost my shoes, and falsely accused my wife of hiding them! I know myself too well to deny the biblical truth about my nature. To quote another pop singer, Pink, who apparently has a more biblical worldview: “I’m a hazard to myself. Don’t let me get me.”

  FAVORITE SINS, CROOKED TIMBERS

  A few years ago, Barna research group conducted more than a thousand interviews with Americans of various ages and backgrounds.2 The purpose of the study: to discover our biggest temptations and how we deal with them. Procrastinating (60 percent), worrying (60 percent), eating too much (55 percent), and spending too much time on media (44 percent) topped the list of most common temptations. More serious habits like viewing pornography (18 percent), lying or cheating (12 percent), abusing drugs and alcohol (11 percent), or doing something sexually inappropriate with someone (9 percent), were less common. Though, as the researchers pointed out, the results were likely skewed by people’s reluctance to confess struggling with these more serious sins.

  To me, the most disheartening finding of the study wasn’t which temptations we fall for; it was that we have no idea why we do. The study found that half of the respondents didn’t know why they succumbed to temptation. Others reported various reasons for their lapses, including a desire to feel less lonely or to satisfy people’s expectations. Only 1 percent cited the role of human or sinful nature.

  The study reveals a disconnect in our thinking. We know that we have a problem with temptation. According to the American Psychological Association, Americans consistently name a lack of willpower as their number one character deficit. Like Paul, we know we don’t do the good we want to do. We realize we lack self-control, that we’re weak. As the Barna study demonstrates, we easily identify the areas in which we fall to temptation. What we have no clue about is why. Barna President David Kinnaman offered this observation on the findings:

  Only 1% of Americans of any age are able to articulate that giving in to temptation might be caused by sin. Most Americans think of temptation more as a steady stream of highs and lows that must be navigated. This reveals a gap in biblical thought on the subject of temptation among the nation’s population.3

  Most of us know we’re failing but have no idea what’s behind our failures. When it comes to fighting sin, we’re like a blind boxer—we keep getting hit, but don’t know where the blows are coming from.

  In the first chapter, we looked at different definitions of self-control. We saw the importance of delaying gratification and doing what’s right, even when we don’t feel like it. We also explored the biblical concepts related to self-control. They included the need to be sober and restrained, balanced and mastered. All of these definitions assume an inner conflict, a divided self. They imply the presence of an internal enemy. Unfortunately, most of us are oblivious to the battle, which virtually guarantees we will never win it.

  In his book The Road to Character, David Brooks argues that we live in a post-character culture. We care more about success and achievements (what Brooks calls “résumé virtues”) than we do about cultivating traits like honesty or faithfulness (what Brooks calls “eulogy virtues,” the kind of qualities that get mentioned at your funeral).

  Part of the reason for this shift, Brooks writes, is that we have strayed from a school of thought that saw people, not as inherently good, but as fundamentally flawed. Brooks dubs this the “crooked timber” tradition, a phrase he borrowed from the philosopher Immanuel Kant: “Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made.”4 According to this older view of human nature, we are not inherently good creatures who simply need more freedom and affirmation. Rather, we are splendid but damaged. Like crooked timbers, we need to be straightened.

  Brooks writes that the crooked tim
ber tradition was “based on the awareness of sin and the confrontation with sin.”5 And here’s the surprising part. According to Brooks, it was this consciousness of sin that allowed people to cultivate virtue. That might seem like a strange argument. How could having a dim view of human nature enable people to become more virtuous? Because once they were conscious of their sinful nature, they could take steps to fight against it. “People in this ‘crooked timber’ school of humanity have an acute awareness of their own flaws and believe that character is built in the struggle against their own weaknesses,” Brooks writes.6 “Character is built in the course of your inner confrontation.”7 This inner confrontation is anything but easy, but the struggle is worth it. Brooks writes:

  Character is a set of dispositions, desires, and habits that are slowly engraved during the struggle against your own weakness. You become more disciplined, considerate, and loving through a thousand small acts of self-control, sharing, service, friendship, and refined enjoyment.8

  Brooks believes that a failure to do this hard work has serious consequences. “If you don’t develop a coherent character in this way, life will fall to pieces sooner or later. You will become a slave to your passions.”9

  Sinful, fallen, broken, crooked—whatever word you use, it’s essential to face the warped side of our nature. If you believe you’re essentially good, you’ll be completely unprepared to combat the sinful impulses lurking in your heart. “Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall” (1 Cor. 10:12 ESV). Accepting the biblical vision of human nature arms you with a sober self-awareness. It makes you wary of your impulses and desires. It helps you realize that you need wisdom and divine help to resist temptation and pursue righteousness. Ultimately, it’s the first step to leading a self-controlled life.

  IS A FAILURE TO CONTROL YOURSELF ALWAYS A SIN?

  Failures of self-control often result in sin. If you cheat on your spouse—or even on your taxes—you’re guilty of sinning. But that’s not true of all willpower failures. Eating a cookie instead of kale isn’t evil; it just means your taste buds are working properly. Same with choosing to lounge around on a Saturday rather than lace up and run a marathon.

  However, at some point, consistently taking the easy path does cross that blurry boundary into sin territory. Eating that cookie isn’t a problem. But consume a whole box of cookies (which I’m ashamed to say I’ve done), and you’re flirting with gluttony. Lounging around on a Saturday is fine. Do it every day, and you’re guilty of sloth. You get the picture.

  Throughout this book I talk about resisting behaviors that are clearly sinful and some that are simply shortsighted or counterproductive. Self-control is involved in avoiding both. And even when lapses in self-control don’t result in explicit sin, that doesn’t mean they’re inconsequential. If unchecked, they can still have a destructive affect on your life. The apostle Paul wrote of some of these gray areas of his day. “‘I have the right to do anything,’ you say—but not everything is beneficial. ‘I have the right to do anything’—but I will not be mastered by anything” (1 Cor. 6:12).

  DESERT SHOWDOWN

  So we have an enemy within, sabotaging our efforts to please God. As if that weren’t bad enough, the Bible also warns of an external enemy of our souls. “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). Oh no, you might think. Is he really going to get all spooky and talk about Satan? Well, yes, I do believe what the Bible says is true, that we have a spiritual adversary. I also believe that some Christians get downright weird about the topic, so I get your apprehension. They adopt a “devil made me do it!” mentality or start seeing a demon under every bush.

  The Bible, however, is matter-of-fact in describing the devil—and in telling us what we must do to fight him. We’re to arm ourselves with truth, righteousness, faith, salvation, the gospel, and God’s Word (Eph. 6:10–18). Since Satan works in tandem with our fallen nature, we’re instructed to avoid sinful or foolish behaviors that might give him a “foothold” in our life. In short, we defeat Satan by turning to God, and obeying His commandments.

  Self-control plays a major role. Look at the broader context of the “roaring lion” passage above. “Be sober and self-controlled. Be watchful. Your adversary, the devil, walks around like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour” (1 Peter 5:8–9 WEB, emphasis mine). James commends a similar strategy. “Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you” (James 4:7). We don’t need exotic tools or secret knowledge to defeat him. When we resist temptation, Satan flees.

  Of course no one responded to a spiritual onslaught better than Jesus. The Bible tells us that Jesus was tempted in every way and yet did not sin (Heb. 4:15). The Gospels give us a front-row seat to an unusual showdown between Jesus and the enemy. Satan shows up when Jesus is alone in the wilderness and has been fasting for forty days. He knows Jesus is weak, depleted.

  The first temptation: bread. “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread,” Satan sneers. It’s actually a two-pronged enticement. He’s challenging Jesus to prove His divine identity and to satisfy His hunger. Jesus rebuffs Satan with words from Scripture. “Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matt. 4:4).

  Next, Satan leads Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple, and challenges Jesus to jump. He even quotes Scripture, promising that God will send angels to “lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” It might sound like a silly stunt, but the sensational spectacle would validate Jesus’ messianic identity in full view of the Jewish religious leaders. Again, Jesus parries with holy writ. “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test’” (Matt. 4:7).

  Finally, Satan takes Jesus to a high mountain and shows Him all the kingdoms of the world. “All this I will give you,” Satan says, “if you bow down and worship me” (Matt. 4:9). At this point, Jesus is fed up. “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only’” (Matt. 4:10).

  As I read this exchange, one thing stands out to me. Satan’s temptations are all shortcuts. Think about it. What did Satan offer Jesus that He wasn’t going to get in the long run anyway? Bread? The moment Satan leaves Jesus angels come to feed Him. Proof of His identity? Jesus knows He’s the Son of God—He doesn’t need to perform miracles to prove it. How about the kingdoms of the world? This too His Father would ultimately grant Him (Phil. 2:8–9). Everything Satan dangles in front of Jesus is something Jesus is going to get eventually anyway.

  This doesn’t mean Satan’s temptations were easy to resist. Not at all. Their appeal lay in the promise that they could be obtained painlessly. Satan offers Jesus exaltation without the cross, vindication without faith. And it’s immediate. He’s promising them now. In resisting Satan, Jesus chooses the slower and more painful course that His Father has set for Him. Jesus knows it will require passing through hardship, rejection, and death. Ultimately, what Jesus will receive from His Father will vastly surpass anything Satan can offer. But it will require faith and humility, patience, and trust. Jesus opts for the slower, harder way.

  I don’t think Satan has changed his strategy. He offers the same shortcuts to us. I’ve encountered them myself. For instance, I know if I obey God, I will be fulfilled. Jesus has come to give me an abundant life. God promises to “fill me with joy in [His] presence, with eternal pleasures at [His] right hand” (Ps. 16:11). But Satan sidles up to me, usually when I’m hungry, dissatisfied. “Why don’t you just grab that fulfillment on your own right now?” he says. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a sin. You deserve it.”

  God has promised to clothe and feed me, to take care of my needs (Matt. 6:30–34). The One who owns “the cattle on a thousand hills” (Ps. 50:10) certainly has the resources to do it. Yet Satan plants doubts in my mind about this promised provision. “Will he really take care of you?” he whispers. “Maybe you better grasp fo
r your own security, even if it means doing something dishonest.”

  The best way to head off such temptation is to follow Jesus’ example. It starts with listening to His sermon—and not Satan’s. It means countering the lies the enemy whispers in our ear with the unchangeable truth found in Scripture. And it requires trusting God and taking the longer, harder road to fulfillment. When we do those things, Satan runs for the exit.

  Unfortunately, we don’t always follow Jesus’ example. We’re weak, sinful. We’re “crooked timbers.” Sometimes we can’t spot Satan’s lies, let alone resist them. The good news is that we can make progress. As we’ll see in the next chapter, with use, our spiritual muscles get stronger. As we follow the Victor in the wilderness, our self-control will continue to grow.

  Self-Control Training: Entry #3—Bible Reading

  IF MY RESEARCH HAS TAUGHT ME anything, it’s this: start small. Don’t do too much right away and don’t start too many things at once. The reason? It takes a lot of willpower to forge new habits, and your willpower is limited. I knew that if I woke up on Day One and tried to read a book of the Bible, pray for an hour, fast, and run three miles, I’d probably collapse from emotional and physical exhaustion—then take the next month off. Gradual beginnings might not be as exciting, but they are more effective. Because of this dynamic, I decided to tackle these disciplines one at a time.