what changes us

"Souls are made sweet not by taking the acid fluids out, but by putting something in—a great Love, a new Spirit, the Spirit of Christ. Christ, the Spirit of Christ, interpenetrating ours, sweetens, purifies, transforms all. This only can eradicate what is wrong, work a chemical change, renovate and regenerate, and rehabilitate the inner man. Will-power does not change men. Time does not change men. 

CHRIST DOES."

Today, I read a sermon called "The Greatest Thing in the World," written by Henry Drummond and published first, I think, in 1891. Although the whole sermon is worth reading, I was most struck by the quote above. In recent months, I've been spending a lot of time trying to get things done by will power alone. I make all kinds of determinations about what I'm going to accomplish and what habits I'm going to change and how I'm going to have a good attitude about it all and . . . nothing changes. I determine and determine and I don't make much progress. I think my problem comes in not recognizing the truth expressed above.

This quote from the sermon comes in a section on how maintaining a good temper is part of love. Immediately before this quote, Drummond describes the dangers of doing right and feeling wrong: "[Temper]," he writes, "is the intermittent fever which bespeaks unintermittent disease within; the occasional bubble escaping to the surface which betrays some rottenness underneath; a sample of the most hidden products of the soul dropped involuntarily when off one's guard; in a word, the lightning form of a hundred hideous and un-Christian sins. A want of patience, a want of kindness, a want of generosity, a want of courtesy, a want of unselfishness, are all instantaneously symbolized in one flash of Temper."

I think this something I'm afraid of--that my outward attempts at goodness aren't penetrating what's inside. That I'm not changing because there is rottenness underneath--and you can't just cover it up. You've got to root it out.

It's not enough to just try to make our outward actions match our ideals--our hearts have to be right on the inside. Drummond's description of the rottenness bubbling underneath reminds me of C. Terry Warner's ideas in Bonds That Make Us Free. Often, we act (self-)righteously and congratulate ourselves on our good behavior and long-suffering when inside our hearts we are at war with those around us. I recognize my own tendencies to fall into this trap of self-justification. The only thing is that recognition alone doesn't solve the problem.

I recognize where I go wrong, and then I become overwhelmed by the sheer number of things I need to fix about myself. Drummond's sermon could have sent me spiraling back into a cycle of guilt and frustration, but the quote at the top of this page prevents that from happening. "Will-power does not change men. Time does not change men. CHRIST DOES." I recognize the wrong inside me and that leads me to want to change, but the key here is that I can't change myself. The burden of guilt and feeling of being convicted that I sometimes feel lifts when I accept this truth: "Will-power does not change men. Time does not change men. CHRIST DOES."

This is why all my best resolutions over the past few months have failed: I've been trying to change things about me while utilizing only my own will power. Reading Drummond's sermon today showed me that I can make determinations all I like, but until I turn the process of change over to Christ, I won't make any progress. I have to be willing, but my will-power won't change me. I have to give Him time, but time won't change me.

Christ will change me.

I find that thought so comforting and relieving. I can leave it up to Him to do His work of changing, and I can stop worrying so much about myself.

Forgetting to worry about myself in turn allows me to focus my attention outward: towards God and those around me. An outward focus leads me to love and this thing, love, Drummond concludes, is the greatest thing in the world. It's Christ's ability to change us that opens in us the capacity for love, the most Godlike quality of all. Said another way, it's the capacity for love, given to us by Christ, that changes us.