“Sometimes I wake up and I feel like…an orphan.” Huh? You probably weren’t expecting that one. We feel tired, grumpy, maybe even stressed for all that the day will entail. But, rarely do we consider the possibility of this word: Orphan. Usually, this is associated with a child who has lost both his or her parents. Well, continuing in the story from my last post, Miller’s thesis is that on a spiritual level, we often act like that abandoned, lonely, perhaps afflicted child that says “Ohh, poor me.”
Miller lists a number of outworkings of the orphan’s mentality:
–“I am more sinned against than sinning.”
–Intense self-analysis, guilt, anxiety
–‘I help everyone else, but I don’t seem to get any help in return.’
–Outward Performance, such as a devotion to duty
–“I don’t get any help” (self-pity)
–refusing the Holy Spirit’s promptings (Hebrews 3:12-13)
–“The humble-sufferer” who must deal with emotional pain by yourself
–Hopelessness
According to Miller, these evidences come from a heart that is easily self-condemned. Why does this happen? Essentially, it is because we have gotten the recipe for faith wrong. She says, “Presumptive self-confidence may look like faith, but it has a very different spiritual root (Jer 17:5-10). Faith and presumption look alike because qualities are characterized by confidence…presumption is a reliance on human moral abilities and religious accomplishments, on visible securities. It ultimately relies on human will power to serve God and people…a mix of presumption and faith produces a personal instability that surfaces in crises and major life transitions…presumptive faith…must have positive circumstances and feelings of success based on visible accomplishments.” (Miller, 1994, p. 16).
Yesterday night, I acted like a spiritual orphan. My homework To-Do list didn’t get accomplished, and I was disappointed. My presumptive faith was a devotion to duty, and I expected God to “bless” me according to my standard of what blessing would have looked like–everything checked off. Surprise!! Religious moralism is a religion of control, and not redemption (p. 33). It is the false hope of self-righteousness. It ignores and doubts the power of the Spirit to accomplish in me all that God wills. I was so surprised as I read this book how often Miller went back to the idea of righteousness in Christ. If I would simply humble myself before God and acknowledge my nothingness, my complete unrighteousness without Christ, I would be able to have real faith.
Here is the difference: The faith that sees God’s love as unconditional lives in hope because Christ’s righteousness for me was won on the Cross; the faith that expects God to tilt the universe in my favor as I keep his laws cannot believe that God desires to, and must bless (p. 33). The latter is the how the Pharisee lives, and the former is how a genuine CHILD of the heavenly FATHER lives.
The apostle Paul paints such clear pictures of being a child of God in the book of Romans:
“Christ is the end of the law so that there may be righteousness for everyone who believes.” (10: 4)
And then in Hebrews, I find so much encouragement from this scripture: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are–yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us sin our time of need.”
Where do I find righteousness? Christ. How can I approach a perfectly righteous God? Because Jesus was without sin. Where do I go this morning to find help for all the things I have to do today? The throne of grace.