I’m English and we are commonly associated with the phrase “keep a stiff upper lip”: an implacable resolve, a refusal to show emotion, a stoic perseverance in times of trouble. We almost have a fondness for this because it seems so quintessentially British, especially with shows like Downton Abbey and Call the Midwife. This approach originates from Stoicism (not surprisingly), though the phrase itself was first used in the early 1800s. It was the overriding philosophy in Victorian private schools and came to exemplify what was considered right and proper behaviour.

In the West generally, there is an approach to emotions where they are kept very private. We grieve privately. Our funerals are about individual closure. We read self-help books at home and see counsellors on sick days or in our spare time. A few years ago, another English phrase was imported around the world: “keep calm and carry on”, from a poster made at the outset of World War II. These days you see it on mugs and t-shirts and phone cases. Stoicism still infiltrates our culture, telling us how we should (or think we should) behave.

Many people’s approach to emotions is about efficiency. We seek to swiftly move from feeling bad to feeling good again, wanting to process bad events as quickly as possible. This is partially natural. We want to take the pain away. When we are physically hurt we put bandaids on and take pain killers. But we need to remember that those things only ease the situation; healing still has to happen.

It takes a lot of work to have a stiff upper lip, to keep calm and carry on. In fact, it does a lot of damage. We move on from the pain before it heals or, even worse, we suppress wounds and there is no healing at all. What would happen if we had a deep physical wound that we allowed only to partially heal, or not at all?

In other cultures and times, processing negative emotions is more communal. Roman funerals could be quite elaborate and include up to five elements (a procession, a cremation and burial, the eulogy, a feast, and commemoration); mourning was public.

Ancient Jewish culture was more like this. One of the best gifts we have to help us process emotional pain is Psalms. Given our cultural discomfort with negative emotions, we tend to mainly focus on the happy psalms. They’re good for inspirational posters and giving comfort to those in pain when we don’t know what to say. But the beauty of Psalms is that God did give us words to say. He gave us words for when the pain is so deep it seems unspeakable. He gave us words to cry out to him, even when in anguish and despair, even when we want to shout and scream and protest and question.

What these psalms do is lead us into the pain and allow us to sit there awhile—to acknowledge the feelings and deal with them. We don’t need to solve the problem as quickly as possible. In his mercy and grace, God teaches us a different way.

Nearly half of the psalms are laments, journeys to take to process our emotional pain. They name fears specifically for us: fear of attack, fear of loss, fear that God will not answer and more. They acknowledge feelings: confusion, emotional exhaustion, despair, longing, deep yearning. Only when the psalmist has brought our pain into the light and we have stayed in it a little while does the poetry move us to a more hopeful future. This conclusion can only happen after the pain has been processed.

Let’s look at Psalm 13 together, one by David:

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?

The psalmist fears that God has left him alone in his pain.

How long must I take counsel in my soul

David despairs of his anxiety and over-thinking, mulling and stewing on the things that plague him.

and have sorrow in my heart all the day?

The seemingly never-ending sadness is palpable. It remains when he pushes himself to go through his daily business, a lead weight in the heart.

How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

There is a sense of injustice, that someone has overpowered him materially or emotionally. In this situation there may be loss of land or money, loss of face, loss of family, loss of power and control.

Consider and answer me, O Lord my God; light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,

David pleads with God to answer him because otherwise his only rest will come in eternal sleep.

lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,” lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.

This sense that there will never be vindication brings to light David’s deepest feelings of yearning to be justified.

But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me.

Having acknowledged the feelings and stayed with them awhile, here God, through David, brings the reader out into the light of hope.

In this model, our pain doesn’t need to be private (many of these psalms are communal psalms) nor processed quickly. This doesn’t mean we should parade and wallow in our pain and end up celebrating it. Psalms gives a shape and tempo to our processing. It acknowledges and gives validation to our feelings, and allows us to stay in them for the purposes of healing. But then the words move us very definitely on to the next stage.

And there are over 60 of these types of psalms, for a whole range of painful emotions and for repeated use—because it’s not as though we read one psalm and then we’re good to go. Just as we have repeated counselling sessions or doctor check-ups, we should stay in Psalms for as long as we need to. This invites God to speak comfort to us and urge us to seek him when we are at our darkest points.

The next time you are seeking to comfort someone, read lament psalms with them. Help them to access the pace of processing our hurt provided to us by God himself. Likewise, the next time you are seeking comfort for yourself, go to Psalms. Know that God sees your pain and your most negative emotions. He wants you to acknowledge him in the darkness and bring your pain into the light—but he wants more for us than that alone. He wants you to trust and move forward, even an inch at a time, for as long as you are here on earth. And he wants to do it with you: he’s given you himself in the Holy Spirit to guide and comfort our hearts; he’s sacrificed himself in the Son to bring you freedom from sin and pain; he’s prepared a heavenly home where you will be whole. Let him lead your healing—he knows the pace to set so that you last until your heavenly prize.

By Ruth Baker

Submission can be a controversial can of worms. In Australia, secular journalists have recently published concerns about the dangers of submission. They’re right to do so.

When men and women submit to Christ, we give up our selfish rights and preferences, and voluntarily choose to live under his authority. He owns our lives and asks for total allegiance. If Christ were not trustworthy and abounding in compassion, grace, wisdom and goodness, this would be a precarious position indeed. But, thankfully, submission to Christ is the truest freedom, so we need not fear.

But in this sinful world, power is abused. Men and women in all kinds of positions of influence and leadership can use their position selfishly and sinfully, and victims become injured by heinous evil. As such, submission is a risky business.

So when Christ says, “Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord”, there are risks. Sometimes husbands are foolish and make bad decisions. Sometimes husbands are sinful and abuse their wives. God speaks very clearly about the latter. He hates violence, rage, fits of anger and the abuse of power (Ps 11:5; Prov 3:29; Gal 5:19-21; Mark 10:42-45). Such people will be punished most severely (Gal 5:21).
So what do we do?

Ephesians 5:22-33 is the extended parallel of Colossians 3:18, where the hidden mystery of marriage is unveiled. God designed earthly marriages to give a foretaste of the sublime goodness of the eternal marriage between Christ and the church. As such, wives are to be like the church, modelling submission so that everyone has a better understanding of what it looks like for individuals to submit to Christ. Likewise, husbands are to demonstrate Christ’s headship, modelling sacrificial, selfless leadership so we better understand Christ’s loving rule. We are to learn from each other.

I am very grateful to God for the blessing of a wonderful, Christlike husband. Richard insists on taking out the garbage every week, he cooks when I’m busy, he drives when I’m tired and he comforts me when I’m sad. Submitting to him is a wonderful joy that I don’t take for granted. I received this undeserved blessing through the painful death of another. So I cherish it dearly, thanking God for this tangible expression of Christ and the gospel.

Yet despite this, in my sinfulness, I still fail. Sometimes I get tired and grumpy. Sometimes I’m impatient and irritable. To my shame, sometimes I get angry when I feel my husband hasn’t loved me exactly as I want him to, and in a desire for justice I punish him for it. But Colossians says, “Husbands, love your wives, and do not be harsh with them”. Should Richard only love me when I’m kind and patient and in a good mood? This would be outrageous! Husbands, even if your wife is angry and emotional, please love her patiently—with compassion, kindness and humility. Assume she knows how undeserving she is.

Likewise, wives, even if your husband is disappointing, slow to initiate, and clumsy in his efforts, please respect him, patiently encourage him, and build him up with your words. Assume he knows his weaknesses and failings. He might feel trapped and unable to change himself. He may feel self-hatred and pity for his own inadequacies and sins, and know just how undeserving he is of your loyalty and grace.

Ephesians 5:33 is very helpful in all this. Insightfully, author Emmerson Eggerichs says that respect is the heart of submission, and the biblical ‘love language’ for men. In general, where women want to be loved and cherished and adored, men want to be respected.

But sometimes in our ungodliness, instead of respecting our husbands, wives can belittle, demean and demand. Sometimes it’s easy for us to have a critical, complaining or controlling spirit, especially when there are differing preferences and opinions. While there’s certainly a right place to disagree and discuss, and while there’s certainly a right place to keep a safe distance from a violent or abusive husband, it honours God to do so with loving respect—not with superiority and stubbornness, not with a spirit of revenge or bitterness, but with “compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience” (Col 3:12).

As you continue reflecting on Colossians 3:18, these questions might be helpful: Do you appreciate your husband’s work and service? Do you admire his strengths (or even his efforts) to love? Do you praise his godly ideas and leadership? Do you honour his preferences and desires?

Respect is most foundational to the goodness of submission: Whatever his failings, how can you treat your husband with respect and build him up with your words? Perhaps do some homework. Ask him, “What makes you feel respected?” You never know—the answer may surprise you.

By Jeanette Chin

One of the first places we often turn, having confessed sin and asked for God’s forgiveness, is towards the power of habit. This makes great sense. Self-control is a fruit of the Spirit, and good habits help us to strengthen self-control. Smart secular psychologists recognize that our motivation to do the right thing is limited and that our willpower is weak. Thus they advise us to work on developing good habits.

Good habits in the Bible
The Bible reinforces the idea of building good habits, both through direct instruction and multiple examples. In Genesis the habit of the Sabbath is built into the very structure of creation! That alone tells us something of the significance of habits, for this translated directly into the weekly practise of Israel. Proverbs 22:6 says parents are to instruct children in the way they should go, implying that habits are formed from an early age and that it’s important to get them right. In Psalm 1, the habit of ‘walking’ should be avoided if it is walking in the paths of sinners; contrast the instruction in Galatians where our walk is to be “by the Spirit” (Gal 5:16; see also Rom 8:4).

So then, we should get into the habit of fleeing temptation and pursuing spiritual good. Many times we are commanded not to resist specific temptations but to flee from them: think Joseph fleeing Potiphar’s wife in Gen 39; think Paul telling Timothy “flee youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart” (2 Tim 2:22). Interestingly, though we are commanded to resist the devil, there is no specific biblical command to resist temptation.

One habit that the Old Testament highlights and emphasizes is the habit of prayer and offering sacrifice for sin. This was built into the very fabric of national life through the temple and its associated sacrificial system. So too the five books of the Psalms both demonstrate prayer, and regularly call on the hearers to join in with prayer for anything and everything, most especially praising God and expecting him to act in steadfast love. The use of the Psalms and the offering of sacrifice for the forgiveness of sins were combined in the daily worship of the temple.

So ingrained is the habit of prayer in Daniel’s life that his enemies know they will be able to cause trouble for him if they target it. In response to their trouble-making, we read that Daniel “got down on his knees three times a day and prayed and gave thanks before his God, as he had done previously” (Dan 6:10).

Likewise the New Testament gives this very simple instruction about our prayer habits: “Pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thess 5:17).

The risk of good habits
There is, however, a significant risk associated with developing good habits.

Over the years, I’ve gathered a fat dossier of excellent ideas in regard to habits. Some of them are ideas for avoiding bad habits. Others are about developing good habits, or (following the best advice from secular psychology) replacing a bad habit with a good one. One conference speaker told us of how he locked the temptation of television in a cupboard and gave his wife the key. A Christian doctor told me, before internet connections from mobile phones were standard, that he hadn’t even connected to the internet from his house, thus cutting out one possibility of online temptation (he lived alone). Other ideas abound. Accountability groups. Computer software. The man who took up cycling and went for long bike rides whenever temptation struck, even if was at two in the morning.

Some of this advice is so good that it can applied to a whole range of sins equally well, be they pornography, gluttony, laziness, or losing your temper. Each of these temptations can be staved off by a solid cycle or a long distance run, after which it is quite possible that the particular sin will be the last thing on your mind!

But can you see the problem?

Consider. Without in any way taking away from the goodness of pursuing certain habits—whether praying three times a day, or exercising, or putting a lock on the fridge, or doing all your computer work where your screen can be seen by others—ask yourself this important question when you hear good advice about building better habits: has the person, article, book, conference or good idea pointed me to Christ? That question is serious and fundamental.

None of what follows is meant to make light of our own desire to find good habits to deal daily with sin, which if pursued is not only fatal but demonic in character—for Satan was a murderer and a liar from the beginning, and anything that keeps us out of Satan’s grasp is all to the good.

But good advice without reference to Christ is like a car missing its engine, a choir its conductor, or a bark its dog. Or—and this is where it matters—a gospel without any sense of salvation or rescue. Worse, it threatens to become a semi-Pelagian heresy in which the Lord Jesus has supplied something to us by way of initial grace, but now it is up to us to make that grace effective by forming good habits. We are not talking here of working out our salvation with fear and trembling, but of compensating for something fundamentally inadequate in Christ, in that his initial grace given at the cross is incapable of carrying us through to final salvation from the judgement of God.

How Christ overcomes sin
So how does Christ overcome sin in us not only through the initial act of forgiveness through the cross, but in the daily struggle with “sin which clings so closely”? The writer of Hebrews 12, who gives us this expression, has a straightforward and powerful answer to those who are tempted back into a reliance on good habits (and it is hard to deny that the Old Testament habits of ritual sacrifice, as discussed in Hebrews, were indeed good habits).

The answer that the letter to the Hebrews supplies (and therefore the whole of Scripture), is to look again to Christ who was in every way tempted as we are, yet without sin (Heb 4:15). Here are just some ways that Jesus Christ, through his cross and resurrection, and by the power of his Spirit, overcomes our daily sin:

He graciously shows us and speaks to us of the true God. (Heb 1:1-4)
He saves us and makes propitiation. (Heb 2:3, 17)
He destroys the devil and his power. (Heb 2:14)
He sympathizes with our temptation. (Heb 2:18)
He warns us of the consequences of continued sin, so causing us to fear. (Heb 3:12-13, compare Heb 6:4-6)
He prays for us continually. (Heb 7:25)
He leads the way and encourages us in our race. (Heb 4:14, compare Heb 12:1-2)
He brings us into God’s presence. (Heb 10:19-22)
He disciplines us as a Father with his sons. (Heb 12:5-6)
He brings us to heaven. (Heb 12:22-24)
We could say a great deal more here, whether from Hebrews or from the rest of the Bible. But if your Christian life is held together by good habits, you can do better. It is Christ, not our good habits, who will lift us out of sin and into salvation.

Jesus saves
One friend, who’d struggled for many years with addiction to both alcohol and pornography, shared that he was quite literally delivered overnight from this dual addiction after praying and putting his trust in God for salvation. To this day, decades later, he remains untroubled by those particular temptations.

I hasten to add that he is not now sin-free. Nor does the Bible promise to anyone that our deliverance from the power of sin will be complete before the day we depart to be with Christ. But his story starkly illustrates how the power of sin in our lives will be broken, be it overnight or by a process that lasts a lifetime. It will come, as with my friend, through the power of Jesus Christ, who by his Holy Spirit raises us to the same new life that first raised our Lord. Fittingly, this is the closing idea of the writer of Hebrews, and I’ll do likewise:

Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen. (Heb 13:20-21)

By Gordon Cheng