A True Desire for Holiness

Moving Beyond Selfish Mortification of Sin

“The only real sadness in life is not to be a saint. ”

— Leon Bloy

We were all called to be saints; that is, to live as fully human beings whose lives are open to God without any reservations. In other words, Christlike, or Christians in the true sense of the word. This is a gift that the bible says God is eager to give to anyone who asks. It is a life free from the power of sin, because it sees sin as the corrupting and disgusting thing it is, and thus avoids it with ease. Most people want this life… At least we say we do.

The widely professed desire for sanctity, or a holy life, reminds me of a story I read in James KA Smith’s book, You Are What You Love. In this story a few gentlemen are being taken to a place where they would get what they want. Not what they say they want, or what they think they want, but what they truly want. At first they are thrilled about the opportunity, but the closer they get to this “room,” the more hesitant they become. They realized that they may not want what they think.

When it comes to holiness I think we are in the same boat, we know that we are supposed to want it, but do we really?

A few weeks ago I was convicted by the revelation that my chief desire wasn’t really a holy life, but reprieve from a guilty conscience—my true want. I was reading The Mortification of Sin by John Owen, when I got to the part where he talked about why Israel’s fasting and wailing often had little effect on God. In applying their approach to a modern one, he wrote:

Thou settest thyself with all diligence and earnestness to mortify such a lust or sin; what is the reason of it? It disquiets thee, it hath taken away thy peace, it fills thy heart with sorrow, and trouble, and fear; thou hast no rest because of it. Yea; but, friend, thou hast neglected prayer or reading; thou hast been vain and loose in thy conversation in other things, that have not been of the same nature with that lust wherewith thou art perplexed. These are no less sins and evils than those under which thou groanest. Jesus Christ bled for them also. Why dost thou not set thyself against them also? If thou hatest sin as sin—every evil way, thou wouldst be no less watchful against every thing that grieves and disquiets the Spirit of God, than against that which grieves and disquiets thine own soul. It is evident that thou contendest against sin merely because of thy own trouble by it. Would thy conscience be quiet under it, thou wouldst let it alone.

In other words, Israel fasted with sackcloth and ashes, because their sin troubled them. If the sin didn’t trouble them, there would be no fasting, no weeping, no repentance. I saw that this was true in my own life. With vim and vigor I would devote myself to disciplines to overcome pride, sloth, lust, or any other sin which our society conveniently highlights as SINFUL. These are the sins that make us feel bad, they are like weights upon our consciences; therefore, when we commit them we are grieved and long for a “holy” life.

This view of mortifying sin is selfish, for it only takes my own feelings and troubles into consideration; it ignores God altogether, except in acknowledgement that it is to him we are called to confess. Sanctity, on the other hand, is not me-centered, but God-focused. The person advancing in holiness wonders what it is that bothers God, and when they discover something, they seek to put it to death. Sanctity is very much like being in love. Recently a friend told me about the sports memorabilia that would not be making an appearance on the walls of the new home that he and his new wife bought. Why? She didn’t like them… They “displeased” her.

That’s it. That’s the saints perspective toward God. They consider what he wants and make sacrifices because the relationship is valued above all.

As for me, this immediately changed my approach to self-examination. Rather than asking “What sins did I commit?” I began asking the Holy Spirit to reveal those areas of my life that were creating a wedge between me and God. I also began praying that throughout the day I would walk “in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ” (Phil. 1:27), doing the things that please him, rather than merely trying to avoid that which unsettles my fallen conscience.