UPDATE: On July 7 we posted Take 1 of this article by David Powlison (posted below). On July 8 he read it and decided to rework it for use in his Dynamics of Biblical Change class this Fall. This expanded and revised version develops both the flow of teaching and the application. It comes in at 2000 words, up from 1250. If you've read the article in the past two days, you might enjoy printing it out and rereading it. Download "I Am Making All Things New (Enhanced Edition" (PDF)

Jesus is in the rehab business. When He takes a broken thing into His hands, it begins to work again. That’s so of an individual. It’s so of a relationship. It’s so of a church.

Obviously this does not mean instant, complete change right now, in the twinkling of an eye. It’s a lifelong process—until the day when we see Jesus. Then He will wrap it all up in a twinkling (1 John 3:1-3; Rev. 20-21).

It’s less obvious that we don’t become as good as new. We don’t go back to just the way things were before. Instead, we are qualitatively changed in this process of repair. We are not ‘restored’, brought back to a previous condition, but we are ‘redeemed’, turned into something new, something better and different than we ever were.

The breaking and remaking leave marks on us—just as scars remain on Jesus’ hands, just as Jesus never loses fundamental sympathy for the human plight with all its weakness. We come out different in the process. We are marked—and so become able to comfort others whatever their troubles, as we have been comforted in our troubles. Your sins and sufferings leave their mark forever. For example, your entire experience of receiving

forgiveness and mercy from Jesus arises only in the context of your dire need because of your own evil. And it is always painful to learn to give forgiveness to another. Mercy to others arises only in the context of being sinned against. So the very best gifts of God arise against the backdrop of your darkest need.

In the Lifegiver’s hands, this remaking bears fruit in a sympathetic understanding of others. Consider this carefully. The evils that marked you deeply become channels of mercy from God, and through Him you become tenderhearted to others. You learn consideration: feeling for another’s struggle, an ability to thoughtfully consider another’s wellbeing. You grow in patience, in kindness, in clarity. This remaking of what is marked forever also creates bedrock gratitude to God. What you have been given—the inexpressible gift—is far better than anything you could ever lose or ever not get. And when the re-creation of all things is complete, then joy inexpressible will be fully conscious and articulate.

This remaking is a fine, fine thing, the essence of our redemption and our discipleship. But diagnosis precedes cure. You’ve got to be willing to look at what’s gone wrong in order to size up what still needs to be made right. That demands taking a look at yourself. Change calls for self-knowledge.

But we humankind have a hard time with self-knowledge. Here are four tendencies that sabotage this process.

First, pride spins webs of self-delusion. We usually put the best spin on ourselves. My opinions, my perspective, and my way of doing things seem intuitively plausible—if not the sum of all righteousness! Even when we get down on ourselves, we reserve the right of judgment. Have you ever noticed how a person with ‘low self-esteem’ reacts when someone else does the criticizing? Have you noticed how self-hatred so often correlates to failure to measure up to pride-generated standards for oneself? Self-pity is then a most delicious narcotic: It feels so good to feel so bad, because it’s all about me. Self-absorption erects an impenetrable barrier to self-knowledge. To know myself as I truly am, I must come to know myself through the eyes of someone outside of myself—the God who searches and weighs every heart.

Second, we busy ourselves and distract ourselves. As individuals, as dyads in relationship, as groups of people, as churches, we often don’t take the time to stop, look, listen, and consider. Instead, it’s off to the races. Our responsibilities and worries offer us a wide choice of stimulants. Entertainment offers us a wide choice of narcotics. Both are habit-forming, and either way we live mindlessly. We’re either too numb or too wired to live an examined life. To slow down while at the same time becoming more wakeful is difficult. It’s easier simply to turn off, or to turn on, or to simply do what we’ve always done, or to do what everybody does.

Third, some of us are activistic. We live mindfully—but what’s on our minds is the compelling press of opportunities, needs, problems to solve. There is so much to be done! “Day-Timer people” are good at keeping schedules, setting goals, tackling problems, and checking off items on the to-do list. But knowing-yourself-that-you-might-change has a hard time making it onto the list, unless it’s simply some self-improvement goal: Read one book a week, lose fifteen pounds, start a new small-group program…. Restless activism gets a lot done, but it never produces heartfelt patience or the ability to wisely enter another person’s struggles.

Fourth, some of us are introspective. We live mindfully—but what’s on our minds is the fascinating flood of experiences, feelings, insights, moods, interactions, connections. There’s so much to think about! “Diary people” are good at keeping a journal. But actually changing into someone who gets out of yourself? The insights are mostly self-referential. Morbid introspection does not lead out into faith and love.

So what’s the alternative to these forms of self-ignorance? Biblical change makes you over into a man or woman who sparkles with patience, kindness, and clarity. You’re not self-deluded and self-absorbed. You’re not strung out or strung along. You’re both active and self-knowing, but neither activistic nor introspective. How do we come to this? How can you stop to take a good hard look at yourself, yet not become introspective? Let me describe it this way:

True self-knowledge makes you radically extraspective towards God and others.

In wise and accurate self-knowledge, you come to see your identity, experiences, emotions, thoughts, actions, and memories with respect to God. This most honest knowing of yourself leads you out of yourself, into ‘extraspection’ and action. When you truly know yourself (and your relationships, and your church), you are pulled to look outside of yourself in two ways: faith and love. As you know yourself truly in the sight of God, as you learn to need the many mercies of God, as you breathe this air, then faith works through love. A biblically-informed understanding gives you a true estimation of yourself. It is produced by the fear of the Lord. It is informed by God’s self-revelation. What does He see in me (and in this relationship, and in our church)? What does He think about what He sees? True self-knowledge is insightful about yourself in ways that are ultimately God-referential. You see a pattern—and it goes somewhere, rather than curving in on yourself. You orient outside yourself, so you go somewhere outside yourself: radically extraspective.

Action is not an end in itself. Restless activism doubly errs, in not stopping for self-knowledge, and in not framing actions according to God’s supreme purposes. Activism never leads you to this: patience, kindness, and sympathy towards others because you know how you are being treated in just these ways by God.

Similarly, self-knowledge is not an end in itself. Morbid introspection doubly errs, in that self-awareness is self-referential, hence distorted, and in that it remains self-preoccupied. Introspection never leads you to this: Love others well because you are well-loved by Jesus.

Biblical change is radical. True self-knowledge makes you radically extraspective: towards God in faith, towards others in love. Counseling is true and good when this is what it is about. Forms of counseling that do not awaken such purposeful extraspection fall short both in self-knowledge and in action.

* * *

This article is a reprint from The Journal of Biblical Counseling, Fall 2005, Volume 23:4, pages 2-4

If you benefited from this article,
would you consider making a donation to support
the work of CCEF?

David Powlison is a counselor and faculty member at CCEF and has been the editor of The Journal of Biblical Counseling. He holds a Ph.D. in History and Science of Medicine from the University of Pennsylvania, as well as a Master of Divinity degree from Westminster Theological Seminary. David has been counseling for over thirty years. He has written many books and articles on biblical counseling and the relationship between faith and psychology.

© 2009, Christian Counseling & Educational Foundation
All rights reserved. Unless otherwise noted, CCEF blog posts may be reproduced on other Internet sites under the following conditions: 1) The post must be reproduced in its entirety, with no deletions, changes or insertions. (Exception: brief excerpts may be quoted as part of a review or commentary on this post.) 2) Full attribution must be given, including the author's name and a link to the original post or to http://www.ccef.org. 3) This entire copyright notice must appear with the post. No portion of this publication should be reproduced, copied or utilized in any other form or by any other means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Christian Counseling & Educational Foundation. Inquiries should be made in writing, addressed to CCEF, 1803 East Willow Grove Ave, Glenside, PA 19038.