I remember the first time I stood up in front of a group of women to teach the Bible. My shirt was damp with sweat, and my voice wobbled into the microphone. My knees might actually have knocked together in fear. But it wasn’t fear of failure or of public speaking. It was fear that the women in that room would see through the layers of clothes, skin, vessels, and bones and examine the heart beneath. I was afraid that if they knew what really pulsed beneath the veneer of rhetoric and biblical knowledge, they’d ask me to leave immediately.
Though I believed what I was teaching with all my heart, the darkness of my sin seemed like a disqualifier. If the hearers knew that sometimes I struggle to get out of bed in the morning, that sometimes I close my Bible and yell at my kids, that sometimes I have questions I am afraid to ask—they’d see me for the impostor I really am. If I escaped without being called a hypocrite, then surely I had pulled the wool over their eyes well and good.
No one threw any stones that first time, nor any time since then. But nearly every time I presume to teach a Bible study, teach my kid’s class at church, or even talk to my own children about Christ, I feel like I’m failing in every possible way. Surely there’s someone better suited to this than me! Surely there’s someone who isn’t bent toward anger, tied down with selfishness, locked arms with laziness.
I hear the voice of condemnation nearly every time I seek to serve the body of Christ. With a hiss and a squeeze he pelts me with my very own doubts. Who are you to be teaching anyone anything?
Essentially, the liar says this: “Your sins are too great. God can’t use you.”
What he means is this: “Quit.”
Distinguish Between the Voices
Sometimes our sins do preclude us from serving. If we’re in open, rebellious, unrepentant sin, our church should do us the favor of removing us from service. Unrepentant sin disqualifies us from service and the benefits of church membership, and loving discipline should be exercised in hopes of restoration. That’s not what I’m talking about here. I’m talking about that temptation to abandon your post for the gospel because you feel unworthy to fulfill it. When it comes to our identity in Christ, there are two voices we can listen to. One is condemning, and one is not.
When it comes to our identity in Christ, there are two voices we can listen to. One is condemning, and one is not. Share on XPaul tells us that in Christ, there is no more condemnation for us (Rom. 8:1). The voice of the Lord in His Word will correct and rebuke our sin, but it will not be tinged with accusation and shame. Like the woman at the feet of Jesus after her potential stone-throwers had scattered, we can look around and ask, “Where is my accuser?” When we have repented from sin and believed in Christ for our atonement, there is no more condemnation left for us because it was all poured out on Jesus at the cross. So the voice in your head that tells you that your sins are too great, your gifts too small, your work too fraught with selfishness to matter—that’s not the Lord. That’s our adversary, the devil. If you are in Christ, Satan cannot steal your soul, but if he can prevent you from holding your post for the kingdom, then his mission is mostly accomplished.
It appears like humility to step back from service when you feel unworthy, but it’s not humility. It’s disbelief in the gospel. When you believe the enemy’s lie that your struggle with lust or gossip or laziness or anger cancels out any service to the Lord, you are essentially believing that Jesus’ blood was not enough to cover your sin. You are adding to the gospel by doing penance.
In her book, Humble Roots, Hannah Anderson writes: “One reason that we’re tempted to assume unnecessary guilt is because it can make us look humble without actually having to be humbled. We can maintain our place of centrality while still convincing ourselves that we’re lowly. But when we navel-gaze or become preoccupied with our weaknesses, we’re simply turning our attention back on ourselves; and by judging ourselves, we put ourselves in God’s place. We’re saying, in effect, that the Holy Spirit is not competent enough to do His work of convicting ‘the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment.’ And if He is not capable, we must do it for Him.”1
When you’re tempted to abandon your post because you feel unworthy of service, learn to discern whether that inner monologue is from God or not by familiarizing yourself with His voice. Simply put, you know His voice by knowing His Word. When His words become imprinted in your heart and mind, you’ll know how to combat the enemy’s temptation to let your weakness displace Christ’s work at the cross.
Not Sinless but Not Slaves
We are not sinless people, not this side of heaven. But neither are we slaves to sin either. God has rescued us from the domain of darkness and has transferred us to the kingdom of His Son (Col. 1:13). John makes is clear that a life characterized by habitual, unrepentant sin reveals unbelief, but when Christ is our Advocate, we have forgiveness for our sins (1 Jn. 1:9, 2:1-2, 3:4-6). The distinction here is pursuit of sin versus fleeing from it. If you are fleeing your sins and building your life around the pursuit of godliness, then being a saint who still sins doesn’t exclude you from all gospel service.
If you’re unsure whether sin in your life disqualifies you, ask yourself this question: Am I fighting my sin? If the answer is no, then talk with your pastor or elders about how to fight it. Put up parameters for accountability. Step out of service for a season. Make killing your pet sin your highest priority.
However, if it’s not habitual sin but rather a general feeling of unworthiness, do not abandon your post.
If the regular struggle with sin were the universal ministry disqualifier, the globe would be empty of preachers, teachers, elders, missionaries, nursery workers, deacons, worship leaders, Sunday school teachers, and many more useful and needed kingdom workers. Withdrawing from your post because you are not sinless doesn’t just affect you. It hurts the Church. It hurts your church.
Withdrawing from your post because you are not sinless doesn’t just affect you. It hurts the Church. It hurts your church. Share on XI’ve watched Christians who are gifted in all sorts of service shy away from serving because they feel they don’t have the spiritual status to do so. Feelings are not truth tellers. Scripture is. “I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me” (Gal. 2:19-20). So, when I hear someone say that they feel like a hypocrite and shouldn’t be serving, my encouragement is always direct: Don’t quit. Don’t squander the gifts the Lord has given you and that your church has affirmed in you. We need you to persevere, even when you feel unworthy. In yourself, you are unworthy, but Christ has made you worthy. Remember who you are in Christ and obey His commands.
Confident in Christ
That first time I took the role of teacher and stood in front of a group with my Bible was not the last time I felt completely wrong for the job. Years later, I still feel terribly unworthy. In myself, I am unworthy. But I don’t have to prove that I am sinless. Everyone knows I’m not. Everyone knows you’re not. What matters is that God has accepted Jesus’ sacrifice for our sin and has judged us righteous because of Jesus. We get to wear the righteousness of Christ, and we should serve out of confidence in His victory at the cross. Navel-gazing will not help us be obedient to Jesus’ commands to make disciples.
God doesn’t need us, but He has chosen to use us for the advancement of His kingdom. If He has saved you, He will sanctify you, and He will expect you to obey His commands. We can serve—not because we are perfect—but because He who has promised is faithful, because He will finish the work He has started, because He is the anchor for our souls. We can serve with confidence in Christ because our identity has been secured with His own blood.
1Hannah Anderson, Humble Roots: How Humility Ground and Nourishes Your Soul (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2016), 108.
Photo by Ümit Bulut on Unsplash
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.