I shot a Desert Eagle for the first time not long ago. I am not going to lie–it was nothing short of freaking AWESOME. At .50 caliber, it’s one of the most powerful handguns around. Just handling it, unloaded, is an experience that inspires awe…the weight, the feel, the potency. I was actually just a tiny bit nervous to shoot it because they have been known to tear fingers off, if handled incorrectly while firing.
So there I was, holding the unloaded “king bird” in my hands, when I was handed a full clip. My heart raced as I locked in the rounds and cocked it. Then, I looked down the laser scope at my target–a suspended clay pigeon thirty yards away. I made sure my grip was firm. I held my breath as I eased my index finger toward my palm, preparing for a loud crack, and…
BOOOM!
It was so much more powerful than I expected. As the gun exploded, my arms lurched upward. My whole body tilted, threatening to topple. If I hadn’t been gripping the gun so tightly, it would have rocketed out of my hands and flown twenty yards behind me. The world fell silent, as the shot echoed into the forest around me. It was deafening. It was the loudest noise I had ever heard in my entire life. And it was completely, utterly amazing.
As I fired off more rounds, I felt power surge through my veins. And I couldn’t help thinking…If this gun was fired at a human, how devastating would it be? It wouldn’t just leave a hole. It would leave a flesh crater. The picture of this only increased my fear, awe, and respect for the violent machine I held in my hand. I thought to myself, this gun is deadly.
But then, a random quote popped in my head for some reason. It’s a stupid quote, and one that I had dismissed the countless times I had seen it on bumper stickers and t-shirts. Nevertheless is was appropriate:
“Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.”
As I fired off my last round and glanced down at the Eagle, the quote kept repeating inside my head, blipping like a neon sign. And at that moment, another thought occurred to me: If I don’t chamber a round, aim, and pull the trigger, this hand-held cannon is nothing more than a benign piece of metal.
It was then that I realized that this cheesy slogan applied to another, parallel concept in the lives of many us:
Destructive habits. Addictions. The cycle of repeated sin.
Here’s how:
I can’t tell you how many people I have met and spoken to over the last few years who have some sort of dealing with habitual vice. Whether it is porn, substance abuse, or some other compulsion, addiction is a virtual epidemic in western culture today. A parade of TV shows, radio programs, books, blogs, websites, and movements are dedicated to dealing with this issue because it is such a common dilemma.
And for every individual story I hear—whether face to face or in the media—there is usually a relapse scenario associated with the person in question. It seems many of us are still searching for a way to solve the addiction riddle, many times to no avail.
I believe the reason for this is because most fail to acknowledge that addiction, while deadly, is just a symptom of a deeper spiritual sickness. In other words, the habit itself is not the problem, but rather the problem lies further beneath the surface.
I don’t want to trivialize anyone’s particular situation with the words that follow. I understand how difficult addictions can be. And I am not a licensed counselor, pastor, or doctor, so I am not making any sort of professional diagnosis here.
However, I firmly believe (from my own battles with deadly habits, along with countless encounters with others who have had problems in this area) the following: except in extreme cases of chemical dependency, most stay in their cycles of destruction because they cannot forgive themselves, and thus cannot find the forgiveness of God.
Here is what I mean: We feel guilty when we give in. Then we believe we are unforgivable and unlovable. Because of this, we give in to hopelessness, which keeps us repeating the same routine. These habits, therefore, are like guns…and when we continue to load the chamber with the ammo of shame and hopelessness the habits are bound to continue to be deadly.
But the truth is, vices are have little power in and of themselves without these bullets.
And the fact is, no matter what you are caught up in, you are not alone. There are probably many people around you who are dealing with similar issues, even if you don’t know it. And many times, the most difficult part of breaking these cycles is not in saying “no” to our demons, but in letting ourselves off the hook. This is where another, opposite, but equally powerful concept comes into play:
Repentance.
When we repent, we aren’t just saying, “I won’t do that again.” It is much deeper than simply promising to resist. It is first and foremost an acknowledgement of your own humanity, your own propensity to fall short. This admittance, while humbling, is also nothing short of liberating. When you realize you fell not because you are worthless or a failure, but because you are genetically prone to rebellion, you also begin to realize that you cannot conquer your vices by your own strength. And in this sense, we are all “addicts” in so far as we are all addicted to rebellion against our creator, and we will all “relapse” into sin again at some point.
Isn’t it freeing to know that we are all in the same boat? That, in and of itself, should begin to loosen the grips of destructive habits on your soul.
Upon internalizing these truths, it is then possible to forgive yourself, to let go of shame, and then truly rest in God’s forgiveness. And when we rest in God’s forgiveness, his Spirit enters us, and gives us His power—supernaturally—to say “no.”
This is, as Aslan proclaimed in The Chronicles of Narnia, “The Deep Magic.” It is beyond human comprehension, or logic, to explain the power that God has over our weaknesses through forgiveness.
Understand that repentance is the great disarmer to your vices. When loaded into the chamber of the sinful habits of our past, it transforms seemingly dangerous weapons into cartoon pistols which shoot nothing but paper signs which read, “bang!”
When you repent, you invite God’s spirit into the situation. He gives you the power to say “no.” Repentance, then, is a decision that is backed the almighty himself, who then enters our hearts and transforms our desires. But this cannot happen if we do not first learn to forgive ourselves.
If you can forgive yourself, I believe it is possible to heal from any habit.
So the next time you see a gun—or better yet, some dude in the midwest wearing a “Guns don’t kill people…” shirt, remember this:
Addictions don’t kill people. People kill themselves when they fail to forgive themselves then repent.
July 27, 2011 · Spiritual Living · 16 Comments
