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This is the first part of a two-part Office Hours. Next
month you'll be able to find Part 2 at my new web home, TrueU.org. More about that below. See
you there!
* * *
My hands paused at the keyboard. Was that someone at my
door?
I peered out into the hallway. Nobody there. Back to typing.
Tappety-tap.
The same noise came again. A sort of shuffle, like a shoe
against the floor. Probably just the air conditioning system, but
it was distracting. I got up to close the door —
And almost collided with a human body. "Peter! What are
you doing out here? Are you stalking me?"
"No! I — gosh. No, no. Sorry. I — gosh. Sorry. I
—"
"Relax, Peter, I'm joking. I eyed him. "You're
lurking, though, aren't you? Why don't you just
come in?"
Sheepishly, he accepted the invitation. "I was trying to get
up the nerve."
"Am I so formidable? You've never been afraid of me
before."
"It isn't you. It's what I want you to do."
"Do you need a letter of recommendation or
something?"
"No. I want you to pray for me." He turned pink.
"Me?"
He nodded. "That is, if you don't mind."
"Certainly, but —"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know it's a lot of trouble. I probably
shouldn't even —"
I smiled. "Peter, it's no trouble at all. I was only going to say,
'Certainly, but about what?'"
"About — what?"
I nodded. "First word, 'about,' preposition. Second word,
'what,' interrogative pronoun. What would you like me to pray
for you about?"
"I'm not sure that I want to tell you."
"Then don't. I'll pray a very general prayer, just asking God
to bless you. Will that do?"
He hesitated. "I need a very specific kind of help."
"God knows what you need, Peter."
"That's true. Still. I wish you could — well —
maybe I should tell you after all. Will this be confidential?"
"Of course." I swept my hand toward the wall. "No listening
devices. No sound recorders. No bugs. Now what is this
about?"
"I want you to pray for me for deliverance."
"Deliverance?"
"Yes. I've got a problem with a — I don't know what
to call it — a comeback sin."
"What do you mean by a 'comeback' sin? Do you mean an
old sin you thought you had conquered sin, that has come back
to trouble you again?"
"No, it's a new one. For me. But it does keep coming back.
I'm talking about the kind of sin where — well —
you do it, you repent, you do it again, you repent again —
in tears, even — but you do it again anyway. Where you
can't seem to get off the treadmill."
"That used to be called a 'besetting' sin."
"You understand, then?"
"I think so. The Apostle Paul even talks about it. 'I do not
understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do
the very thing I hate.'"
"Yeah — Romans 7. I've been reading it over and
over. A morose passage, that one."
"I wouldn't say that. It begins morosely, but it ends on a
note of joy."
"He says 'Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from
this body of death?' You call that joyful?"
"But he answers his own question, doesn't he? 'Thanks be to
God through Jesus Christ our Lord!'"
"I believe that, Professor Theophilus. Really I do. But at the
moment, I'm not experiencing it."
I was silent for a moment. "Paul doesn't say that deliverance
will be easy or quick."
"No. That's why I asked you to pray for me. For the Holy
Spirit to deliver me from my — um — besetting
sin."
"I will. Count on it."
"Thanks."
"Is there anything else I can do?"
He hesitated. "Yes."
"Name it."
"I know I'm not giving you much to go on, but — do
you have any advice?"
I considered. "Maybe. It would have to be very general
advice."
"You mean because you don't know what my besetting sin
is?"
"Right. And because there are a lot of other things I don't
know about you. And a lot of things about God that I don't yet
understand."
"Anything would help."
"For what it's worth, then. First, Peter, you're not alone in
this. A lot of people go through what you're going
through."
"You're saying this is common?"
"Sure. For one person, resentment may be a besetting sin. It
gnaws at him. He forgives and forgives, but his heart keeps
returning to its bitterness. For another person, vanity may be a
besetting sin. Try as he may to think about other things, his
thoughts keep coming back to what other people are thinking
about him. Or the problem may have to do with envy, with sex,
with hot temper, with spiritual pride — wherever your
weakness is, that's where the Adversary will goad you."
"That sounds obvious now that you say it, but I hadn't
thought about it."
"Did you think you were the only person who
struggles?"
"I guess I did. But Prof, why is this happening?
I could understand if I was like I was before —"
"What do you mean, 'like it was before'?"
"Don't you remember the last time I talked to you?"
I smiled. "About trying not to long for Christ too
much?"
"Yeah. Well, that's over. Now it's just the opposite. I stopped
holding back. There's nothing I want more than God. I can't
stand it when I disappoint Him. But I'm betraying Him
every day."
"Do you think that only people who aren't
trying to follow God should suffer besetting sins?"
"Wouldn't that make more sense? Like this. Say some guy
goes in heavy for a certain kind of sin. He never gives a thought
to seeking God. Then he changes. He yields to Christ. He
becomes a Christian, or maybe, if he was an unserious Christian
before, he becomes a serious Christian. Okay, those old habits
will probably weigh him down, right? Getting free of a load like
that might take a lot of time, a lot of sweat, and a lot of grace.
Right?"
"Right."
"But I've been pretty serious about my faith for quite a while
now. And I never went through that."
"No?"
"I've sinned sometimes, sure. I've had things to repent, sure.
I've had struggles — lots of them — little struggles.
But it's not until now that I've been in
this kind of battle. I'm trying to follow God
more — but it's like I'm getting
worse. How can that even happen? It
seems impossible."
"Why does it seem impossible?"
"It's obvious. Let me show you." Peter rummaged in his
backpack for paper and pencil. He drew an broad triangle,
resting on its base with the point sticking upward. "I'm a
mountain climber, right? I'm making a spiritual ascent. My
artwork isn't good, but this is the mountain."
I smiled. "If you say so."
"No, really. Now look." He made a black scribble at the
bottom of the picture. "These are the rocks and boulders and
thornbushes and things at the base of the
mountain — vices and bad habits and sins. They make it
hard to get started. Big struggle. Get what I mean?"
"Sure."
"But look here," he said. He put the tip of the pencil on the
side of the triangle, above the scribble. "Once you're past the
rocks and all that other junk, the slope is smooth and the going
should be steady."
He threw down the pencil, threw himself back in his chair,
and folded his arms across his chest. "But the going
isn't smooth. I don't get it. It doesn't make
sense."
I laughed. "Peter, you haven't proven that the higher you go,
the smoother the slope becomes. You've only assumed it. What
if the mountain is more like this?" I drew another triangle.
"That's the mountain." Instead of making a scribble at the
bottom of the picture, like he did, I made one halfway up. "But
on this mountain, you don't meet the worse rocks and boulders
and thornbushes until you've been climbing a while. See?"
He nodded.
"Or like this," I continued. I drew a shape like the Eiffel
Tower — broad at the bottom, sharp at the top. "No rocks,
but the higher you climb, the steeper the slope."
He nodded again.
"Or even like this," I said. I drew another triangle, but this
time I erased part of one side and redrew to make a zigzag.
Instead of going up, up, up to the apex, the new line went up,
then down, then back up again. "This mountain is the trickiest of
all. Halfway up the slope, there's a crevasse. An unwary may
climb a thousand feet, take a false step, and fall all the way to
the bottom."
I glanced over to Peter. This time he didn't nod. He looked
at me aghast. "If it's like that," he said, "how can
you smile about it? And what can you
do?"
FOR PART 2, TUNE IN NEXT MONTH AT THE NEW HOME OF
"OFFICE HOURS," TRUEU.ORG
* * *
My Dear Readers,
Since 1998, I've been chronicling the conversations of
Professor M.E. Theophilus, holder of the PMS Chair (nope, that's
Post Modern Studies) at Post Everything University. That makes
89 columns of Office Hours and
67 of Ask Theophilus. For all
those years, his online location has been
Boundless. That seemed logical; the original
mission of the webzine was to provide Christian college students
with a place online that they could call their own. But eight years
is a long time. Boundless now aims at singles in general, and its
focus has shifted from how to stay Christian in college, to how
to navigate relationships and start families. In the meantime, the
college mission has moved to its sister
webzine TrueU.org. So
Theo is moving too, and since I couldn't bear to be parted from
my old friend, I'm moving too.
The two of set out on this move with good memories and
high expectations, but also with a few unsolved mysteries. Why,
for example, has no one ever asked me what Theophilus' first
and middle initials stand for? Maybe you all know already.
Anyway, we'll see you during — forgive me — Office
Hours.
Professor Budziszewski
Friend and amanuensis of Professor Theophilus
* * *
If you have a question you'd like Professor Theophilus to
consider for this column, please send it to asktheo@trueu.org. Please note, all
questions that are selected for "Ask Theophilus" may be edited
for clarity and privacy and become the property of Focus on the
Family.
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