But do we necessarily desire and pursue it in reality? Do we really choose good and reject evil? Do we really love God? Or do we just say, ‘I believe, or once believed, and so now those things really don’t matter; they never did, in fact, because God only cares about my faith, not what I do.’ Or sees me as righteous regardless of the truth of the matter.
God is on man’s side, more than we can begin to know. But He has expectations of us-and for us-and for what we do with the gift He’s given. He seeks to draw us increasingly into true, personal, righteousness, and that comes as we draw nearer to Him in response. He initiates, we respond, or not, we can turn back away, or become lukewarm like the church in Laodicea in Rev 3 that He was ready to spit out. Anyway, the more we respond- the more we love Him as He first loved us-the nearer we are to our goal, and, yes, the more we then desire it, desire goodness and righteousness, on our own, willingly as we grow in likeness of Him. We rest in Him, but we also work with Him. And His burden is light.
I don’t think that accurately conveys what I’ve said at all. The truth is that it’s a gift from God, but we can refuse the gift. As we accept, we’re in agreement. To the extent that we accept we’re in agreement, and that’s a process, a living and growing walk and relationship. The difference is only in that we participate with God, at His discretion, through whatever time we have on this earth, for our highest good. It’s only a struggle at all because we’re truly on His side to the extent that we love. Basil bears repeating here:
If we turn away from evil out of fear of punishment, we are in the position of slaves. If we pursue the enticement of wages, . . . we resemble mercenaries. Finally if we obey for the sake of the good itself and out of love for him who commands . . . we are in the position of children.
God wants that love-born obedience and goodness for us; that’s all He wants. We’re here to grow towards it, but we can also grow away from it. He doesn’t force us to want and accept Him; He draws us to do so, He knocks at our door, and we allow Him in, or not. We pick up our cross daily, or not. Sometimes we fail, and He’s there to pick us back up. It’s a cooperative effort but at the end of the day He simply does not force us to remain in Him. Our holiness, our sanctification, our justice, is greater to the degree that we also will it. To put it another way, again, love is a choice, or it’s not really love at all.