Standing Steadfast in Christ

The message I’m writing to you now is from the Holy Spirit to me. In fact, I consider it my own personal wake-up call. I realize that many readers may not need the same stirring I do. Yet the Spirit’s stirrings have touched me so deeply that I want to keep these notes ever before me on my desk, to read again and again in the days ahead.

You see, there is one thing I dread above all others: that’s the thought I would drift away from Christ. I shudder at the notion that I could become slothful, spiritually neglectful, caught up in prayerlessness, and go for days without seeking God’s Word.

As I’ve traveled the world in the past four years, I have witnessed a worldwide “spiritual tsunami” of evil drifting. The waves of this tsunami have swamped entire denominations, leaving in their wake the ruins of apathy. It’s happening the world over, as once-mighty churches and denominations drift away from the godly paths of their founding fathers.

The Bible warns clearly that it’s possible for devoted believers to drift from Christ. And it offers powerful warnings about guarding against falling asleep in the midnight hour. “Therefore we ought to give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest at any time we should let them slip. For if the word spoken by angels was steadfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just recompense of reward; how shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation…?” (Hebrews 2:1–3).

There are biblical examples of once-strong churches that ended up drifting. In Revelation, we read of the Ephesian church grieving Christ by drifting away from their first love. Likewise, the Laodicean church drifted into lukewarmness, and the church at Sardis drifted into spiritual death. Paul warns the believers in Galatia that they had drifted from the victory of Christ’s cross and had turned back to works of their flesh.

Paul says, “Awake thou that sleepest.” “See then that ye walk circumspectly … redeeming the time, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:14–16). Paul also urges, “It is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed” (Romans 13:11). He adds that some believers have become “wanton against Christ … some are already turned aside after Satan” (1 Timothy 5:11, 15). Each of these passages is directed not to non-believers but to Spirit-filled Christians. And the message is clear: “Awake from your slumber. Stir up your gift!”

Yet, let me state here that my first concern isn’t the drifting I see in the church or its ministries. No, I’m concerned first and foremost about my own walk with Christ. I have to ask, “How can I escape the consequences if I neglect Jesus and drift from him?”

Paul says we should consider the example of Israel, which had drifted into the mire of slothfulness: “The people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play … Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall” (1 Corinthians 10:7, 12). Don’t misunderstand: Paul isn’t talking here about falling from Christ. He’s speaking of a fall from diligence. Peter warns likewise: “Beware lest ye also, being led away with the error of the wicked, fall from your own steadfastness” (2 Peter 3:17).

This is why Paul says, “I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway” (1 Corinthians 9:27). Paul’s whole life was about bearing fruit. And he speaks here as one who dreads the very thought of drifting from steadfastness.

Like Paul, I am secure in my salvation. But I have to heed these warnings from the Lord and from great men of God.

We do well to consider lessons from the law of nature. All plants and animals are created by God, and their life cycles and care reflect his universal laws of nature. Paul writes, “That which may be known of God is manifest … by the things that are made” (Romans 1:19–20). Indeed, Jesus tells us to look to flowers, birds, oxen, sheep, ants and seeds, because we can find lessons in them all. Here are a few spiritual truths I have found illustrated in nature:

1. Neglect causes deterioration. I gained insight when I read about a species of fish found in Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. This is a small shellfish with a head that’s totally pale and two black spots that appear to be eyes. When biologists dissected the black spots, however, they discovered these “eyes” were fake, unable to function. Externally, the spots only appeared to be eyes, with a perfect surface appearance. But behind those eyes, everything was in ruin. The optic nerve was shrunken and withered down to a useless thread. Simply put, those fish have eyes, but they couldn’t see.

What happened? This particular species at one time had been multicolored and had eyes that functioned normally. But it preferred the dark, cold, underground to the light. By hiding out, this shellfish’s bright colors eventually turned blanch-white. And it didn’t need eyes, so nature accommodated it. It totally lost its function of sight by its constant neglect of light.

Here is a powerful lesson about our spiritual walk: What you don’t use, you’ll lose. Translation: You have to constantly exercise your spiritual faculties if you expect to have spiritual life. You can’t just go to church on Sunday and expect to suck enough life from the service to face the coming week. You have to have your own daily walk with God.

2. Neglect can be caused by weariness from the struggles of the Christian walk. Right now, many precious souls are just plain tired. They’ve been worn down by their physical and spiritual battles, enduring a barrage of troubles and heartaches. And they’re giving up not on Jesus, but on the struggle. They’re tired of the stress, weary from the fight, and they no longer want to be so intense in their walk. They want only to escape.

A pastor recently wrote the following to me: “In all my years of ministry, I have never seen the level of troubles, discouragement, relationship problems and financial stress that have come upon our congregation in the last few years. Yet, the more I prayed and sought God about these problems in our church, the more they increased. I’ve finally had thoughts of just quitting the ministry. I would never leave Christ, but the things I’m facing in our church every day now seem too difficult to deal with.”

David, the author of so many Psalms, grew weary of his struggles. He was so tired in soul, so embattled and beset by troubles, all he wanted was to escape to a place of peace and safety: “My heart is sore pained within me: and the terrors of death are fallen upon me. Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and horror hath overwhelmed me. And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove! For then would I fly away, and be at rest. Lo, then would I wander far off, and remain in the wilderness…. I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest” (Psalm 55:4–8).

Right now, I believe the body of Christ is in the midst of a “perfect storm.” Hell has erupted, and Satan has launched an all-out attack on the overcoming church. Many believers are on the retreat, wanting out of the struggle completely. They’ve decided, “I’ve had it. I won’t leave Jesus, but I’m going to find an easier way.”

Jesus manifests himself when the boat seems to be sinking. Just as he did for his disciples, he shows up in the midst of our storm, walking over the waves. He comes to us when we’re in the fiery furnace, as he did with the Hebrew children. And he’s with us when we’re thrown into the lion’s den, as he was with Daniel. Indeed, his strength is given to us most in our times of weakness. Paul testifies, “He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Like David, many of us yearn for escape when we’re enduring times of fearfulness and weariness. We want to slip away to some place that’s far away from people, away from our problems, battles and struggles, where things are quiet and peaceful. And so some turn inward, or go numb watching TV, living in constant discouragement, about to give up the struggle to trust God to bring them through.

Yet it is precisely in our times of struggle that we encounter the following law of nature:

3. Neglect cripples all spiritual growth. If you neglect plants or animals, depriving them of water and nutrients, death begins. Try driving through almost any suburban neighborhood, and you’ll see beautifully landscaped yards, green grass, and colorful flowers and plants. On weekends especially, you can see the homeowners in their yards, watering, trimming, sprucing and fertilizing.

But then you come to an odd house that breaks up the beautiful scenery. Everything has run wild: grass is overgrown and withering, and tall weeds have sprouted up everywhere, choking out life. It all reflects death, and the whole scene screams, “Neglect! Sloth! Laziness!”

Solomon describes just such a picture: “I went by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding; and, lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken down. Then I saw, and considered it well: I looked upon it, and received instruction. Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep: so shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth; and thy want as an armed man” (Proverbs 24:30–34).

Solomon is telling us, “Everything had wasted away by sheer neglect. I saw firsthand what happens when you’re slothful, and I took it to heart.” This lesson applies equally to neglecting God’s Word and prayer. If you ease up on having sweet communion with the Lord and precious time in his Word, you’ll soon be drawn into the flesh’s gravitational pull. And the pull of neglect is downward. No one is harder to awaken than a lukewarm Christian who’s being pulled down by his neglect.

I think of an illustration from my own yard. A tree that I once planted in the shade had begun to slump. I decided to replant it in the sun, and I made sure to water it every day, mixing the water with a spoonful of Miracle Grow plant food. Whenever I missed a day of watering, the tree’s leaves began to droop. But once I watered it with the Miracle Grow mixture, it perked up.

Dear saint, your Bible is pure Miracle Grow. If you neglect it, you’ll find your soul withering. But if you tend your soul regularly with this “miracle food,” you’ll come back full of strength and life.

Let me clarify once more whom this message from the Holy Spirit is for. It is addressed not to sinners, but to overcoming believers: to you and me. I hear the Spirit saying, “David, lover of Christ, Bible preacher — you speak to others about how your life and ministry were changed by prayer. But have you neglected my Word? If you don’t take seriously what I have to say to you, and ignore the shipwreck of the neglectful ones around you, you’ll experience the slow pull toward sloth. An imperceptible, gravitational stupor in your spirit will begin, and it will turn you toward lukewarmness.”

Make no mistake: this message is not about legalism but about personal responsibility. Paul spoke to Timothy on this very issue, instructing his young charge: “Till I come, give attendance to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine. Neglect not the gift that is in thee, which was given thee by prophecy, with the laying on of the hands of the presbytery. Meditate upon these things; give thyself wholly to them; that thy profiting may appear to all. Take heed unto thyself, and unto the doctrine; continue in them: for in doing this thou shalt both save thyself, and them that hear thee” (1 Timothy 4:13–16).

Paul is speaking here, of course, about reading God’s Word. And he’s telling Timothy, “Give attention to it, meditate on it, offer yourself wholly to it.”

Yet another lesson from nature reveals what happens when we trade the good fight for an easier way and walk away from our struggle. I recently read a biologist’s study on crabs, creatures that live in a rough, dangerous environment among jagged rocks. Crabs are dashed about daily by waves and attacked on every side by creatures from deeper waters. They battle continually to protect themselves, and over time they develop a strong shell and powerful instincts for survival.

Amazingly, some in the crab family give up the struggle for life. Searching for a safe haven, they take up residence in the cast-off shells of other ocean creatures. These crabs are known as hermit crabs. Settling for safety, they retreat from the battle and escape into secondhand houses that are ready-made.

But hermit crabs’ “safe houses” prove to be costly and ruinous. Through their lack of struggle, crucial parts of their bodies deteriorate. Even their organs wither due to lack of use. Over time the hermit crab loses all power of motion, as well as vital parts needed for escape. These limbs simply fall off, leaving the crab out of danger but useless to do anything except exist.

Meanwhile, crabs that continued the struggle grow and flourish. Their five pairs of legs become meaty and strong from resisting the powerful tides. And they learn to hide from their predators by skillfully scuttling under rock formations.

This law of nature, too, illustrates the law of the Spirit. As believers, we get tossed and pounded by wave after wave of difficulties. We face vicious predators in Satan’s principalities and powers. But as we fight on, we grow stronger. And we come to recognize the devil’s wiles when he employs them against us. We discover our true refuge, the “cleft in the rock,” by trusting in Jesus. Only then are we truly safe in the midst of our battle.

A Christian who goes after “peace and safety at any cost” and merely hangs onto salvation pays a high spiritual price. So, how can we guard against drifting from Christ and neglecting “so great salvation”? Paul tells us how: “Give more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest at any time we should let them slip” (Hebrews 2:1).

God isn’t interested in our being able to “speed read” through his Word. Reading many chapters a day or trying to get through the Bible quickly may give us a good feeling of accomplishment. But what’s more important is that we “hear” what we read, with spiritual ears, and to meditate on it so that it’s “heard” in our hearts.

Staying steadfast in God’s Word was no small matter for Paul. He lovingly warns, “Therefore we ought to give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, least at any time we should let them slip” (Hebrews 2:1). He also says, “Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith: prove your own selves. Know ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobate” (2 Corinthians 13:5).

Paul isn’t suggesting to these believers that they’re reprobates. Rather, he’s urging them, “As lovers of Christ, test yourself. Take a spiritual inventory. You know enough about your walk with Jesus to know you’re loved by him, that he hasn’t turned from you, that you are redeemed. But ask yourself: how is your communion with Christ? Are you guarding it with all diligence? Are you leaning on him in your hard times?”

“We are made partakers of Christ, if we hold the beginning of our confidence steadfast unto the end” (Hebrews 3:14).

Perhaps you realize, “I see a bit of drifting in my life, a tendency to slumber. I know I’m praying less and less. My walk with the Lord isn’t as it should be.”

When I asked the Holy Spirit to show me how to guard against neglect, he led me to consider Peter’s drifting and his eventual renewal. This man denied Christ, even cursing, telling his accusers, “I don’t know him.”

What had happened? What had brought Peter to that point? It was pride, the result of self-righteous boasting. This disciple had said to himself and others, “I could never grow cold in my love for Jesus. I’ve reached a place in my faith where I don’t have to be warned. Others may drift, but I will die for my Lord.”

Yet Peter was the first among the disciples to give up the struggle. He forsook his calling and returned to his old career, telling the others, “I’m going fishing.” What he really was saying is, “I can’t handle this. I had thought I couldn’t fail, but nobody ever failed God worse than I did. I just can’t face the struggle anymore.”

By that point, Peter had repented of his denial of Jesus. And he had been restored in Jesus’ love, when Christ appeared to his followers in a closed room and “breathed upon” them all to receive the Holy Spirit. Peter was forgiven, healed of his drifting, and was Spirit-breathed. Yet he was still a frayed man inside.

Now, as Jesus waited for the disciples to return to shore, an issue remained unsettled in Peter’s life. It wasn’t enough that Peter was restored, secure in his salvation. It wasn’t enough that he would fast and pray as any devoted believer would do. No, the issue that Christ wanted to address in Peter’s life was neglect in another form. Let me explain.

As they sat around the fire on shore, eating and fellowshipping, Jesus asked Peter three times, “Do you love me more than these others?” Each time Peter answered, “Yes, Lord, you know I do,” and Christ responded in turn, “Feed my sheep.” Note that Jesus, at this time, didn’t remind him to watch and pray, or to be diligent in reading God’s Word. Christ presumed those things had already been well taught. No, the instruction he gave Peter now was, “Feed my sheep.”

I believe that in this simple phrase, Jesus was instructing Peter on how to guard against neglect. He was saying, in essence, “I want you to forget about your failure, forget that you drifted from me. You’ve come back to me now, and I’ve forgiven and restored you. So it’s time to get your focus off of your doubts, failures and problems. And the way to do that is by not neglecting my people and to minister to their needs. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

The fact is, I can give myself to much prayer, be an avid student of the Bible, bring my body under subjection, avoid the appearance of evil, fast often and love Christ passionately. Yet even as I do these things, it’s still possible for me to neglect the great salvation given to me. How? By shutting myself off from human need. If I do all these things yet remain unconcerned about the lost and needy, or ignore the hurting ones in Christ’s body, I have become like the hermit crab, focused only on my own needs and safety.

Pastors have told me sadly, “I can’t find workers or volunteers for anything now. After church, people race to their cars, never stopping to offer help with any of our ministries.” What a tragic picture of such a church: full of spiritual weaklings, once-strong people who have taken the route of the hermit crab.

Acts offers an illustration of our call to focus on others’ needs rather than on ourselves. After the outpouring at Pentecost, the people “continued steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, in breaking of bread, and in prayers” (Acts 2:42). It was good that the apostles were helping others to stay in the Word and in prayer.

Then Peter and John went “up to the temple” to pray, where they saw a lame man who asked them for alms. Clearly, the disciples had seen this man before, as they had been to the temple on other occasions, and he was seen begging there regularly.

This time Peter saw the beggar in light of Jesus’ words to him: “Feed my sheep.” And the disciple responded. Scripture says he “fasten(ed) his eyes on him” (3:4), and this time Peter didn’t neglect his calling. He decided, “I have to do something,” and he started by taking the man’s hand and lifting him up. You know the rest of the story: that lame man ended up leaping and praising God, totally healed.

Often our eyes are like those of the rare species of fish I mentioned: they appear to be functional but don’t truly “see.” And the truth is, there are needs Jesus would have us meet that are always before us. We just need spiritual eyes to see them.

If you’re persistent in prayer and God’s Word, that will prosper your soul. But now is the time also to ask the Holy Spirit to open your eyes to the needs on your very doorstep. He will be faithful to lead you into opportunities to minister, to show you a need you’ve often passed by but have never “seen” before. If you respond to such leading, you will never drift. That is the safeguard, the wall of protection: to “Feed my sheep.” ■