The Art and Discipline of Sanctifying Self-talk
In these days of enforced isolation, we all miss being together with the people of God. Our weekly rhythm of celebrating the goodness of God with the people of God has been disrupted. Churches that would throb and hum with vibrant life every Sunday now lie eerily silent and empty on weekends.
Technology has helped ease the isolation. Our church, like many others, has taken to live-streaming our services. And it’s not just churches utilizing technological connections. Small groups are also trying to leverage the power of technology by using videoconference technology to meet “virtually” without leaving their homes.
But the simple fact is that the measures we are taking to stem the tide of the pandemic are isolating us in ways we’ve never experienced before. For some introverts like me, the isolation isn’t so uncomfortable; we’ve been honing these skills all our lives. But for extroverts, for the gregarious and outgoing who feed on social contact, these are miserable days indeed. Regardless, these are strange and surreal days for all of us.
Our dilemma – being separated from worshiping together – is actually the topic of one of the psalms. An unknown psalmist – probably a Levite, a professional musician who worked in the Temple – found himself separated from the joyous Temple celebrations he so fondly remembered. And thinking about what he was missing brought him to tears.
These things I remember, as I pour out my soul:
how I would go with the throng
and lead them in procession to the house of God
with glad shouts and songs of praise,
a multitude keeping festival. Psalm 42:4, ESV
And he got no solace from his companions. Instead of comforting him, they tormented him: “Where is your God?” (v. 3, 10), so much so that even his prayers were contaminated by their taunts: “I say to God, my rock: ‘Why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?’” (v. 9).
To read the psalm, you would almost get the impression that the psalmist is vacillating back and forth between despair and hope. But this is not what is happening. The psalmist recognizes that he is emotionally drained by his grief and by the torments of his companions. But he doesn’t let either his circumstances or his social setting define his spiritual state.
Instead, his situation leads the psalmist to the practice of sanctifying self-talk. Three times in Psalms 42-43, we read this lovely refrain:
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God. Psalm 42:5, 11; 43:5, ESV
And thus the man of God reminds himself of what he knows to be true despite his fragile emotional state: his hope lies in God, not in his circumstances (forlorn) or his social connections (cruel). He makes the conscious, deliberate decision to put his hope in the covenant-keeping God of Israel.
Not all self-talk is good, of course. We all lie to ourselves, and sometimes we believe those lies. Fortunately, God doesn’t leave us to our own devices. He has given us plenty of resources to call out those lies: His Word to correct and rebuke, His people to admonish and exhort, His Spirit to convict and comfort. And we would do well to pay attention when God uses these resources to call us out in our lies.
But self-talk can have a sanctifying effect; that is, God’s Spirit can use self-talk to continue and extend His work of spiritual formation. When we rehearse the Word of God to ourselves, when we make the conscious effort to remind ourselves of what we know to be true about God, we are cooperating with the sanctifying work of God in our lives.
In his superb daily devotional New Morning Mercies, Paul David Tripp talks about “preaching” to ourselves, and it is a word we need to hear in our days of isolation:
In Psalm 42, we are invited to eavesdrop on a man’s private preaching. Yes, you read it right; like us, the psalmist was always preaching some kind of gospel to himself. We either preach to ourselves a gospel of aloneness, poverty, and inability or the true gospel of God’s presence, power, and constant provision.
You are preaching to yourself a gospel that produces fear and timidity or one that propels you with courage and hope. You are preaching to yourself of a God who is distant, passive, and uncaring or of a God who is near, caring, and active. You are always preaching to yourself a gospel that causes you to rest in his wisdom or a gospel that produces a bit of panic because it seems as if there are no answers to be found.
Today, when it feels as if no one understands, what gospel will you preach to you? As you face physical sickness, the loss of a job… what message will you bring to you?
When you are tempted to give way to despondency or fear, what will you say to you? When life seems hard and unfair, what gospel will you preach to you? When parenting or your marriage seems difficult and overwhelming, what will you share with you? When your dreams elude your grasp, what will you say to you? When you face a disease that you thought you’d never face, what gospel will you preach to you.
We said last week that hand hygiene isn’t just about self-interest, it’s also about neighbor-love. My own experience with Covid-19 might be no more serious than a bad case of the flu. But I take care of myself not only for the sake of my loved ones but also for people I’ll never meet, people two or three separations from me with underlying health problems that could make the disease a matter of life or death. I wash my hands to ensure that when they contract the virus (as most of us surely will at some point), that life-saving ICU bed and ventilator will be available.
This week we’ve added a new layer. While you’re washing your hands, use that repeated ritual remind yourself of who God is and His love for you. As I lather up, I recite the refrain from Psalm 42:
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God.
And as I do, I not only sanitize my hands, I cooperate with God’s Spirit in sanctifying self-talk.
Now more than ever, brothers and sisters, persevere.
Paul Pyle
Discipleship Pastor