Many of us have followed with sadness the story of the California woman who was captured by sexual predators as an 11 year old and held for 18 years before she recently escaped.
As details of her horrific ordeal have surfaced, some have wondered why she didn’t take opportunities to elude her captors sooner. In response others have referred to the Stockholm Syndrome in which, over time, victims come to have positive feelings toward their captors as a way of coming to terms with their torment.
Am wondering whether there might be any parallel to the way some of us relate to God. I mention that because…
On recent evening walks, I’ve have been listening to a series of lectures on church history by professor Garth M Rosell PhD.
Have found his lecture on Martin Luther (1483-1546) especially compelling. Dr. Rosell describes Luther’s cycle of despair in a way that some of us might be able to relate to.
Here’s a short summary of part of Dr. Rosell’s lecture:
“Luther’s struggle was a different from St. Augustine (354-430) whose struggle was basically with his sensual appetites
For Luther the problem was the sensitivity of his own conscience–his own awareness of his sinfulness…both what he did… and what he failed to do.
[Luther] describes [his struggle with sin] in terms of his life in the monastery. “When I was a monk,” he wrote, “I tried with all diligence to live according to the rules, and I used to be contrite, to confess, to assiduously perform my allotted penance. And yet my conscience would never give me certainty. I always doubted and said, “You didn’t do that correctly, Martin. You were not contrite enough. You left that out of your confession.” The more I tried to remedy a weak and afflicted conscience with the traditions of men, the more I found it each day more uncertain, weaker, and troubled.”
“Luther,” Rosell observes, “was caught in what we might call a circle of despair. To be absolved from sin, one needed to love God above all else. But to love God above all else Martin felt that he needed to know that his sins were forgiven. Otherwise he would only fear a wrathful God. He wouldn’t love a merciful Father.
So around and around this circle he went—never able to feel satisfied that his sins had been forgiven and that he stood in righteousness before God. He always feared that he had omitted something, or that his obedience was not complete enough…
Luther struggled for years and years. He sought help. He got advice. He talked to colleagues. They all assured him that he was a good monk, that anybody looking at him would have to recognize that he was doing what God wanted him to do. But he could not feel that in his heart.
He was afraid that [his faith/obedience] wasn’t genuine, that it wasn’t motivated out of love, but out of fear of a wrathful God.
It’s in the midst of that dilemma that Luther made the great discovery of the Reformation— The discovery of God’s mercy and grace”
Rosell goes on to describe how Luther admitted that until he discovered the forgiveness of God, he not only did not love God—but actually hated the One “who punishes sinners”.
Luther’s circle of despair was broken only when he discovered the great truth of the New Testament letter to the Romans: that “the just (i.e. those who are right with God) live by faith” (Rom 1:17). In other words, God forgives us on the basis of our faith in what Christ has done for us—not on the basis of what we do for God.
Roselle’s summary of how Luther found release from his circle of despair resonates deeply with me. For me, the truth of salvation by faith alone in Christ alone comes into clear focus in chapter 4 vs 5 of Romans. There Paul writes, “But to him who does not work but believes on Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is accounted for righteousness” (Rom 4:5).
That brings me back to the plight of the young woman and the Stockholm Syndrome. Is it possible that the “positive thoughts” that some of us have toward God are born out of our fear of him– rather than being a response to his overwhelming love and kindness toward us–in Christ?
While there is certainly a time for fear– without an awareness of the inexpressible love and rescue of Christ, we are apt to feel the same circle of despair and– at best– dutiful, desperate attempts to please an unreachable God– that pushed Luther to the edge of madness.