When we see sin as a cancer
Today, my 24-year-old brother-in-law begins another round of cancer treatment. He was diagnosed with a pediatric bone cancer at age 20, and has been fighting the battle ever since. None of the treatments have been effective; the cancer has continued to grow.
But today seems more hopeful. Today, he begins participation in a clinical trial that has been specifically designed for recurrent forms of his type of cancer. All of us are waiting with baited breath, expectant and hopeful that this will finally be the answer.
While I was praying for him this morning and reading Scripture about healing, I was struck with a powerful thought:
What if we sought our own healing from sin with the same fervor that we fight for physical health?
For the past four years, I have watched this young man and his family stop at nothing to see him healthy again. Cancer treatment often makes the patient feel much more sick than the cancer itself. Chemotherapy and radiation kill a lot of good cells in their process of killing the bad ones. After his first round of treatment, my brother-in-law was told he couldn't lift more than 25lbs. ever again in his life; if he did, he would risk killing himself. His previously healthy body (apart from the cancer) has been tossed around and slowly destroyed by medicine that is supposed to heal him. Prior to being diagnosed, he was an active young adult; he loved to play basketball and golf. Now it's a good day if he feels well enough to leave the house. Why would someone put themselves through all of this? Because they hope that it's worth it, that ultimate healing will come, that one day they'll get to live cancer-free.
He's young. He has so much of his life left to live. So he and his family have done everything they can, almost with reckless abandon, because they have hope that healing will come. When you're fighting to save a life, you don't worry about how much things cost or what kind of issues will arise in the future. You brush off the warnings of the side-effects because they seem insignificant compared to the main problem. You don't care what you have to give up, as long as the life gets saved. You will inject yourself with poison if it means you might be able to live longer and one day live healthy. You have one goal: to get better. Everything is a means to an end.
What if we were willing to endure the worst in order to receive the best? In order to experience the indescribable glory of the loving God?
I think we are often unwilling to endure the worst because Christ already endured it for us. I am so, so quick to forget this. I forget that when God looks at me, he sees his Son, instead of seeing all the filth, dirt, and grime that I'm covered with. I forget that the "suffering" I might experience as a Christian pales in comparison to the suffering Christ went through on the cross. I forget that I can literally be in the presence of the all-loving, all-knowing God because Jesus spent three days entirely separated from this very same presence.
Christ fought for our lives with more passion and more hope than we ever fight for our own lives. He was fully aware of the pain and agony he would have to endure. We know this because he cries out to his Father in the Garden of Gethsemane and says, "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me."
If there is any other way...
We plead the same thing of our doctors. They tell us the options, all of them seemingly awful, and we ask them, "Is there any other way?" "Not if you want to live," they'll respond.
Jesus knew there was no other option. "My Father," he prays a second time, "if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done." When Jesus asked his Father, the Great Physician, if there was any other way, God told him, "Not if we want them to live."
The only way for you and me to live was for Jesus to die. And he stopped at nothing to see this promise fulfilled. He had one goal: to reunite the creation with their Creator. He knew the suffering he would have to endure, but he also knew the eternal reward that would be waiting for him and for the humanity he would save. His suffering was worth it because he knew healing would come.
There is no guarantee in earthly healing. We can hope, pray, beg, fast, and try every possible treatment that exists, and we still are not promised physical healing. But we have been promised spiritual healing! The cure that Jesus brought is eternal, and it promises to fulfill us in the way God designed us to be fulfilled. How much more, then, should we hope, pray, beg, fast, and try everything to experience THIS healing? And the best news of all...is that if we seek after this healing, we WILL find it. God will not forsake us in our quest for His glory.
Today, I am praying for my brother-in-law, for myself, and for all of us...that we would attack our own spiritual sickness with the same fervor that we see each other attack physical illness. That we would stop at nothing to see ourselves and our neighbors healed from the cancer of sin. That we would be reminded of the great, unfathomable suffering that Christ endured so that we can have access to the ultimate antidote, the final treatment, for our toxic sin nature. And that, amidst this battle, we would be overwhelmed with the love of a God who took on flesh, was beaten and killed, and bore the past, present, and future sins of the entire world, in order that we might be healed and live in relationship with Him.
But today seems more hopeful. Today, he begins participation in a clinical trial that has been specifically designed for recurrent forms of his type of cancer. All of us are waiting with baited breath, expectant and hopeful that this will finally be the answer.
While I was praying for him this morning and reading Scripture about healing, I was struck with a powerful thought:
What if we sought our own healing from sin with the same fervor that we fight for physical health?
For the past four years, I have watched this young man and his family stop at nothing to see him healthy again. Cancer treatment often makes the patient feel much more sick than the cancer itself. Chemotherapy and radiation kill a lot of good cells in their process of killing the bad ones. After his first round of treatment, my brother-in-law was told he couldn't lift more than 25lbs. ever again in his life; if he did, he would risk killing himself. His previously healthy body (apart from the cancer) has been tossed around and slowly destroyed by medicine that is supposed to heal him. Prior to being diagnosed, he was an active young adult; he loved to play basketball and golf. Now it's a good day if he feels well enough to leave the house. Why would someone put themselves through all of this? Because they hope that it's worth it, that ultimate healing will come, that one day they'll get to live cancer-free.
He's young. He has so much of his life left to live. So he and his family have done everything they can, almost with reckless abandon, because they have hope that healing will come. When you're fighting to save a life, you don't worry about how much things cost or what kind of issues will arise in the future. You brush off the warnings of the side-effects because they seem insignificant compared to the main problem. You don't care what you have to give up, as long as the life gets saved. You will inject yourself with poison if it means you might be able to live longer and one day live healthy. You have one goal: to get better. Everything is a means to an end.
What if we were willing to endure the worst in order to receive the best? In order to experience the indescribable glory of the loving God?
I think we are often unwilling to endure the worst because Christ already endured it for us. I am so, so quick to forget this. I forget that when God looks at me, he sees his Son, instead of seeing all the filth, dirt, and grime that I'm covered with. I forget that the "suffering" I might experience as a Christian pales in comparison to the suffering Christ went through on the cross. I forget that I can literally be in the presence of the all-loving, all-knowing God because Jesus spent three days entirely separated from this very same presence.
Christ fought for our lives with more passion and more hope than we ever fight for our own lives. He was fully aware of the pain and agony he would have to endure. We know this because he cries out to his Father in the Garden of Gethsemane and says, "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me."
If there is any other way...
We plead the same thing of our doctors. They tell us the options, all of them seemingly awful, and we ask them, "Is there any other way?" "Not if you want to live," they'll respond.
Jesus knew there was no other option. "My Father," he prays a second time, "if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done." When Jesus asked his Father, the Great Physician, if there was any other way, God told him, "Not if we want them to live."
The only way for you and me to live was for Jesus to die. And he stopped at nothing to see this promise fulfilled. He had one goal: to reunite the creation with their Creator. He knew the suffering he would have to endure, but he also knew the eternal reward that would be waiting for him and for the humanity he would save. His suffering was worth it because he knew healing would come.
There is no guarantee in earthly healing. We can hope, pray, beg, fast, and try every possible treatment that exists, and we still are not promised physical healing. But we have been promised spiritual healing! The cure that Jesus brought is eternal, and it promises to fulfill us in the way God designed us to be fulfilled. How much more, then, should we hope, pray, beg, fast, and try everything to experience THIS healing? And the best news of all...is that if we seek after this healing, we WILL find it. God will not forsake us in our quest for His glory.
"Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart." Jeremiah 29:12-13
Today, I am praying for my brother-in-law, for myself, and for all of us...that we would attack our own spiritual sickness with the same fervor that we see each other attack physical illness. That we would stop at nothing to see ourselves and our neighbors healed from the cancer of sin. That we would be reminded of the great, unfathomable suffering that Christ endured so that we can have access to the ultimate antidote, the final treatment, for our toxic sin nature. And that, amidst this battle, we would be overwhelmed with the love of a God who took on flesh, was beaten and killed, and bore the past, present, and future sins of the entire world, in order that we might be healed and live in relationship with Him.
My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, oh my soul.
It is well with my soul.
Deep sigh as I contemplate the wise words of this post. Thank you for sharing your insight.
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