Sanctification: An Expectation and a Promise

It may not look like it now, but back in the day when I was a student at Open Door, I absolutely loved to play sports. I really believe that sports are a microcosm of life—that the kinds of things that play out in sports can teach us a lot about how to live. And looking back, I know I learned a ton during my time playing the great game of football.

During my time playing football I learned a lot about team work, a lot about hard work, and a lot about perseverence. And really the only way to learn perseverence is to do things you don’t think you can. When we were training, there were plenty of times I thought there was no way I could do one more rep, or one more sprint. But together we got back up, we took the line, and we persevered.

But as we got to playing games, back when I was a freshman playing varsity, there were games that felt like they were impossible to win. I mean, there I was barely 15 years old, and I kid you not, I was lining up against guys that straight up looked like Julius Moon! Or dudes with tattoos and full beards!

And play after play, I would get just destroyed by these seniors. It felt like no matter what I did, I just wasn’t strong enough, or fast enough, or big enough. I would get crushed on the field, and I would work myself to the point of absolute exhaustion, and I would train every day hoping one day to win. And yet over and over again I would get blown out of the water. And I’d sit there at half time wondering, “What am I gonna do? There is no hope! I have nothing left in the tank. There’s no way I can win this game.” And there were days that I felt like giving up.

And I wonder, have you ever felt that way? I bet we’ve all felt that way about something. But have you ever felt that way about something that really matters—that try as you might, you just couldn’t seem to make things work, and you got to half time and you felt like giving up, giving in, turning back. And when we feel that way, when we feel that way in life, what are we holding on to?

This year in Rooted in Truth, you all have already begun learning about this topic—Fully Human: Living as God Intended when Culture Intersects Faith. And really, what we’re going to focus on today is that second part: Living as God intended. We’re going to look at what God’s intention is for us, and what it’s like to try and live that out. You see, this is a subject that is close to my heart because, as I have sought to live out this journey of discipleship, as I’ve sought to live as God intended, there were times I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. There were days that I thought it was an impossible game. And many of those times happened when I was sitting in these seats as a middle schooler, and a high schooler. And that’s why I’m so excited to open up God’s Word with you this morning, because there is an answer to the question! When we feel like giving up, when the burden feels too heavy, what are we holding on to?

So if you’ve got your Bibles, go ahead and open up to 1 Thessalonians 4. Let’s walk through the text, and as we do, let’s see what we can learn about God’s intention for our lives and how we can persevere in it.

1 Thessalonians 4:1–3a (ESV) “1 Finally, then, brothers, we ask and urge you in the Lord Jesus, that as you received from us how you ought to walk and to please God, just as you are doing, that you do so more and more. 2 For you know what instructions we gave you through the Lord Jesus. 3 For this is the will of God, your sanctification.”

Let’s start with these first words: “Finally, then, brothers…”

For context, Paul had planted this church in Thessalonica, but shortly after they had come under intense persecution. And Paul was worried that, as the road got tough, the Thessalonians might just give up. They might give up on God’s intentions for them.

But Paul gets a report from Timothy, and as it turns out the Thessalonians are enduring in the midst of greater persecution than you and I may ever face. They are persisting in Christ. And so Paul writes to encourage them. In the first three chapters Paul greets the Thessalonians, and talks about how he wishes he could be there with them. And now in these final instructions, Paul is circling back around to remind the Thessalonians of the teaching they received. And he says…

“…we ask and urge you in the Lord Jesus, that as you received from us how you ought to walk and to please God, just as you are doing, that you do so more and more…”

In other words, he isn’t about to tell them anything they don’t already know. Notice how he says in verse 2, “For you know what instructions we gave you through the Lord Jesus.” All he’s doing is reminding them of the teaching he gave.

And what Paul was concerned about, and what he wanted to remind them of is that, as they face trials, and as they suffer in this life, and as they struggle, they ought to do what? LIVE. AND. Please God. And for some of us that causes some discomfort, because I thought salvation was by grace through faith! What’s all this “live and please God” business Pastor Clay? Well notice that Paul does not say “live to please God.” Rather, he says “live and please God.”

See there’s a difference between living to earn God’s pleasure, and living to enjoy God’s pleasure. Living to earn God’s pleasure is works-based salvation. The Christian life is not supposed to be a journey of earning; rather, it is supposed to be a journey of delighting in God’s love for us. This is why, for example, Paul says “in view of God’s mercies, therefore, let us offer our bodies as a living sacrifice” in Romans 12:1. We don’t offer ourselves to earn God’s mercy; we offer ourselves because of God’s mercy. It’s sort of like the difference between doing your homework just to get a grade, versus doing it to learn. When you’re trying to earn a grade, it’s harder to enjoy, because it’s all about earning. But when you’re trying to learn, you might just find yourself actually delighting in it. So as Christians, we shouldn’t be opposed to work! We should be opposed to earning. And we should focus on enjoying God.

But make no mistake: Paul is reminding them that for followers of Jesus, to take it literally, it is necessary for us to live and please God. In other words, living in a way that is pleasing to God is not just a nice add on to the Christian life. It is the Christian life. This is discipleship. Walking this path is what we’re called to.

What Paul understood so well is that when we follow Jesus, we leave behind our way of walking that leads to death. This has always been the teaching of the Church. Following Jesus has always come with expectations. This is the faith that got passed down from Jesus to the apostles to the early church. In fact, there’s a document called The Didache, or “The Teaching of the Twelve” that is one of the earliest existing summaries of Christian teaching. It’s from the early 2nd century AD, and it served as like a spark notes version of how to be a Christian. And the opening lines say this, “There are [only] two paths, one of life and one of death, and there is a great difference between the two.”

I wonder this morning: What path are you living on? You who call yourselves believers. You who claim the name of Jesus. You’re living; are you living and pleasing God? Or have you so watered down the Christian walk that it applies to you only in name? Have you bought into the lie that God just wants you to have what you want, and so you’ve ordered your life to give you the desires of your own passions and lusts? Are you cutting deals with God, saying you’ll stay away from the “really bad stuff” as long as you can keep nursing your secret sins? Because I don’t want you to be deceived: If you claim Christ, you must walk and please God. There is no other way. Or as Paul goes on to say in our passage, “for this is God’s will, your sanctification,” that you would be holy like He is holy.

Paul can’t be any more clear: God’s desire, God’s intention for human beings, is sanctification. He will not settle for less, and so we need to stop settling for less. Don’t play games with yourself, and don’t play games with God. Stop trying to cut a deal with the God of the universe. He searches all things, and He knows your heart. He knows whether you are using Him, or serving Him. He knows whether you are playing God in certain areas of your life, or giving Him everything. You may be able to fool everyone else, but you cannot fool God. He knows you too well. And He loves you. And He won’t settle.

You see, Christianity is not just about getting your bases covered so that you can go out and live for yourself. Christianity is about becoming truly human as we present ourselves to God as that living sacrifice. The culture wants you to believe that pursuing your own freedom is what will make you feel alive, and it’s a lie! It is not freedom to follow your own desires that allows you to live fully human; It is submitting yourself to God and following His desires that allows you to live fully human. We are not most fully human when we are living for ourselves. We are most fully human when we are living and pleasing God. That’s what we were made for.

The problem is that, sometimes, living and pleasing God feels like the hardest thing in the world to do. At the beginning, when you’re first on fire for God, it feels amazing! It feels like all you can do is live and please God! But eventually, the feelings start to fade a bit, and you get into the long haul of the Christian life. And suddenly that sin that didn’t seem so appealing before is now calling out to you. Suddenly the hunger and fervor you had for the Word is wearing off a little bit. Suddenly you don’t feel that tug in your heart during worship like you used to. And you find yourself sorta going through the motions on the one hand, and to your suprise, falling into sin on the other. And it’s like, what happened? Things were going so well! I was living and pleasing God! But now for some reason it feels like I have to choose one or the other. It feels like I can either live my life and hope that I might please God, or I can go to the couch and sit on my hands during my teenage years. Because it feels like no matter what I do, there’s something in me that doesn’t want to please God; it wants to please me!

And actually, that’s exactly what Paul talks about in the book of Romans. Chapter 6 is about being dead to sin and alive in Christ, about leaving behind sin and walking on the path of life… and Chapter 7 is about our struggle to live in that reality. Paul writes...

Romans 7:15–19, 24 “I don’t understand what I do. For what I want to do I don’t do, but what I hate—I do! And if I do what I don’t want to do, I agree that the law [which communicates God’s intention for my life] is good… For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature [in my flesh]. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I don’t do the good I want to do, but the evil I don’t want to do—this I keep on doing.... What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?”

What Paul is communicating is that, even though the expectation is clear, that doesn’t make it easy to meet. Because there’s something in us that Paul calls “the flesh” that is drawn to the darkness. It is drawn to sin. It wants to live for myself, and to seek out pleasure, and to build wealth, and to just relax, and to be lazy, and to do what I want. It wants to pursue the kinds of things that we left behind to follow Jesus. It’s the part of me that the culture is trying so hard to appeal to. And so there is this tension within us, and as a result, the expectations can become this burden that we carry. We’re trying to live and please God, we’re trying to pursue God’s intention, we’re trying to live a life of holiness, but at the same time we find ourselves sidetracked. We find ourselves stumbling. We find ourselves sinning. We find ourselves slipping back into self-centeredness. And all of the sudden, that expectation of holiness starts to feel like a heavy load.

Put on the pack.

It’s almost like this backpack that we have to carry. And because the expectation is clear, we know what’s supposed to be inside. It’s the weight of expectation. We know what’s in there: Stuff like abstinence. Stuff like: Don’t do drugs. Don’t have sex. Stay away from alcohol. Don’t smoke. Get good grades, especially in Bible class. Be fit and athletic, but don’t make your body image an idol. Be interesting, but not sexy. Be outgoing, but not overbearing. Be confident, but not prideful. Make friends, but don’t use social media or go online. Make your parents proud. Make the teachers happy. Be a good example. Repesent Christ well. And if that isn’t enough, sum it up with this: “Be perfect, as God is perfect.”

And so we shoulder this pack, but all the while we have this sinful nature, this flesh that is screaming for satisfaction. And so you’re trying to bear this weight, and you’re trying to walk on the path that leads to life, and your lungs are screaming, your legs are screaming: “Just take a break! Come on, seriously? You’ve got your whole life to get there. Look it’s not that far. You’ve tried really hard today. Just take the burden off for a little while and come and sit down with me and have a little fun. You’re only 13 once! You’re only 15 once! You’re only 17 once! Stop taking yourself so seriously. You need to calm down and chill out and take the load off.”

Our flesh is screaming to us, and at the same time, we want to follow this path, but we can find ourselves stumbling on rocks, backtracking, losing our way. Even if we want to follow the path, it can seem like we’re just no good at. It can seem like all we can do is fail. I know what I should do. But I can’t. This is what makes the journey so difficult: we are our own worst enemy; we are our own greatest liability. I’m not a victim of my circumstances. I am a victim of my own inability to control myself, my passions, my sin. And for anyone who’s in a sport, or who does art, or who plays an instrument, you know what this tension is like. You know the ball is supposed to go in the hoop, but you just can’t make it happen. You know what the portrait is supposed to look like, but the strokes are uneven and the final image always feels distorted. You know how the song is supposed to sound, but what you create is never as beautiful. And if we aren’t careful, the weight of expectation, and the reality of failure will cause us to give up the race entirely. We hear Paul say “this is the will of God, your sanctification,” and we put our head down on the pillow at night to go to sleep, and even after a hard day of battling to be good, battling to be pure, battling to be holy, we can’t shake the feeling that something is seriously wrong with me. That my progress is so meager. That my steps are so weak. And we wonder: Can I ever really please God?

Take off the pack.

So what’s the solution? We have this standard, this expectation, this burden, and what are we supposed to do? When we feel like giving up, what are we holding on to?

There’s one last thing I want to point out in this text, and it has to do with this word “sanctification.” You see, sanctification is not a destination; rather, sanctification is a process that results in holiness. It’s the process of becoming holy. So when Paul says “For this is the will of God, your sanctification,” he isn’t saying that “God’s will is for you to suddenly and magically be perfect.” Rather, He’s saying that sanctification may be an expectation, but sanctification is also a process. In other words, God’s intention for you is just as much a journey as it is a destination.

And this means that the Christian life, that living and pleasing God is not a game of perfection. It means that living and pleasing God is a game of perseverance.

See if God wanted us to suddenly be perfect, He could make it happen! But God is pleased to allow us to become holy over time. And here’s the thing: Even though it may seem like our progress is meager, God is watching every step we make with care. And even though we seriously doubt that anyone could pay attention and be proud, God is watching us as we struggle, and He is watching with pride, saying, “That’s my son! That’s my daughter!” And if we can learn to live in light of God’s delight in us, even in the midst of our struggle, even while we’re still in process, it will transform everything about our Christian life.

Back in the day when I was playing football, we faced a lot of impossible games. And yet, in the midst of being down by 40 points, I would go back and take the field with my head held high—why? Because even if I was losing, and even if I felt embarassed at my performance, and even if no one else noticed my effort, my dad was up in the stands watching every single step. And I lived for that moment when I would walk off the field, having tried as hard as I could and failed, and I would fall into the arms of my dad. And he would hug me with pride not because I won. Not because I made every play. But because he watched every step and he knew my struggle, and because he was proud of his son anyway.

Because at the end of the day, when all is said and done, God’s pleasure in us is not based on our performance, but on the performance of Christ in our place! We should carry the burden, but we can’t carry the burden, so Christ did carry our burden, called the cross, and He laid it down on a hill called calvary. He carried our burden, and our sin, and our shame in His body on the cross, so that by faith in Him, and because of sheer grace, we too can follow Him along the path of picking up our cross, dying to ourselves daily. Because the battle is won! And the road of struggle and difficulty that leads to glory has already been paved by Jesus! So it’s really not about me at all. My journey isn’t about what I could ever do, but about what Christ has already done in my place.

And in the end, that’s where Paul lands—Paul reminds the Thessalonians that sanctification is not our work, but God’s work. Sanctification is an expectation. And at times it can seem like a burden. But it’s also a promise. And this is the promise you can hold on to this morning. This is what Paul says one chapter after our passage “May God Himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and He will do it” (1 Thes 5:23-24).

The only reason I can keep getting up is because in the end the outcome of my journey is not based on my performance; rather it’s based on God’s grace in Christ. So it’s NOT that we need to try really hard to make ourselves holy and blameless: It’s not something that we will do. God Himself will do it. And He Himself has done it on the cross! Just like it says in Hebrews 10:14, “For by one sacrifice [God] has made perfect forever those who are being made holy.”

So if you’re here today, and if you’re struggling with the weight of expectation, hear this: God is pleased with your journey. He could have made sanctification an immediate thing, but He’s inviting you into a process. And every step along the way He is sitting up in the stands beaming—Not because you won’t make any mistakes, but because you know that the fight has been won on the cross.

And so every time you fall down, you keep getting back up with the sure hope that when the race is complete you’ll cross the finish line exhausted, beat up, and still unworthy, but that God will run out to meet you, and He will put a white robe around you called “the righteousness of Christ,” and he will put a crown on your head called “the crown of life,” and He will say “well done my good and faithful servant!” I was watching the whole time. Now come on home, and join in your Father’s happiness.

And in the meantime, we bear our burden. We pick up our cross daily. But we bear it gladly, knowning that these light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal weight of glory that far outweighs them all!

So don’t give up! Keep going. And when you feel like giving up, hold on to Christ. Trust in God. Pull the straps in tight! Lean forward. And take it one step at a time.

Let’s pray.