The Renewal of My Mind

(Disclaimer: I am not a biblical scholar.  I worry quite a bit that I'm going to say something here that isn't quite right.  But I'm also convinced that the Bible isn't exclusively meant for theologians and scholars.  "Normal" people like me can and should find that the Word of God has a profound impact on their lives.  So here I go.)

I mentioned earlier that I am currently attending a Bible study on Isaiah.  Let me interrupt myself immediately to say: I highly recommend Bible Study Fellowship (www.bsfinternational.org).  If you can find one in your area, make a way to get there.  Ask if you want to know more.

Anyway, the weekly studies always include a few "application" questions, and over the course of the year, I have found myself answering in the same manner to a number of different questions: "I know I need to be thinking in such-and-such a way, but I'm not sure what that means I should be doing."

I sensed that some sort of answer was forthcoming when we reached chapter 40, specifically verses 6-8 -- "The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever" (ESV).  The woman who gives our weekly lectures at BSF put it this way: "God's eternal word strengthens his people to live with an eternal perspective."  Our lives are so short.  In the end, we die.  The only things worth focusing on are those that last forever: the Word of God, and the impact it makes in the lives of those around us.  Et cetera.  One of the application questions of the week asked what I might need to change so that my priorities reflected this truth (that being, that only the Word of God stands forever); I wrote that I wasn't sure what needed to change, except that I needed to have a constant awareness of my every action working for his glory.

The following lesson finished the chapter, in the oh-so-familiar words of Isaiah 40:28-31: "they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles" (v. 31) and so on.  I memorized the passage a few months ago for our church-wide memorization program, but it wasn't until Bible study that the earlier, less-familiar part of the passage hit me with its passion: "Do you not know?  Have you not heard?  The Lord is the everlasting God!" (v. 28)  Remember this!, I told myself. Live like you know it, like you mean it!

But even still, I knew that part of me was waiting for clarity on what to do.

That week, our lecturer spent some time talking about our thoughts, and how what we think about most reflects what is most important to us (in the same way that what we spend our time or money or energy on reflects our priorities).  That's definitely not something I'd never heard before, but again thanks to our church memorization program, this time I had Romans 12:2 sitting right on the tip of my brain, so to speak, ready to be used: "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind . . . " (ESV, italics mine).  And it all finally came together:

I'm a do-er, and a rule-follower, and all of those other traits that make it super-easy to be a Pharisee.  Sure, I'm transformed on the outside.  But somewhere along the line I let the "inside" (my thought life) slip, and I needed renewal there.  No doing, no actions, but merely the face-value of what I'd been answering all along: I know what I need to be thinking, end of story.  Focused on the eternal, on the Word of God, on who my children will be long after I'm dead, on eating or drinking or whatever I am doing for the glory of God, on the simplest and most important fact that the Lord is the everlasting God.

In the same way that our mouth speaks out of the overflow of our hearts, I suspect (and this is just me hypothesizing) that our actions stem from the workings of our minds.  How much more genuine and Spirit-driven could my actions be if they were motivated by the eternal instead of the immediate?

Apart from what I should be thinking about, there was also the problem of what I was currently thinking about in place of the "shoulds."  Isaiah is fraught with injunctions against idols and idol-worship, so our lessons and lectures have repeatedly pressed that point.  It's a subject I generally feel pretty safe on: certainly, my shelves are not littered with gold or silver objects that have to be chained down so they don't fall off but which I still count on for my well-being.  As I mentioned earlier, however, that particular week our lecturer addressed the issue of idols in our thought lives, that whatever spend the majority of our time thinking about, that's our thought-idol.  

With Romans 12:2 still resounding in my brain, I faced some hard truths: I am happy to serve my family, to attend church, to perform all the right duties and actions . . . as long as I am not pressed to share whatever negative thoughts might be running through my mind (and there are often many).  I want to look the part without being called to account for any impure motivations, ugly opinions, petty jealousies.  This negative self-talk, as the psychologists call it, is my idol.  And it is every bit as sinful as fashioning my own golden calf to worship.  

I gave myself a test that very afternoon: the next time a small annoyance threatened to bubble over into an hour's worth of silent complaint, I would banish it immediately and instead pray for the alleged offender.  It worked, of course, as prayer always does, and in doing so, I took one tiny step forward in the renewal of my mind.  I am only beginning to discover the effects of naming my idol and setting out to vanquish it, but I can say with certainty that each small victory (accomplished through the Lord's strength, of course, as I am utterly incapable of facing such a demon on my own) brings a greater measure of peace, of love, of contentment that previously seemed elusive.

I have decided that, for me, it means nothing to have self-control in my actions if I cannot have it in my thoughts.  There's no difference between the two in God's eyes, after all.  So this is my battle: to take every thought captive to obey Christ, as Paul says (2 Corinthians 10:5).  I suspect that it will not be an easy fight.