Killing Isaac
Some years ago I had a stalled counseling case. I had met with a young man for weeks covering the gospel, the heart, idolatry, the process of biblical change, the importance of taking radical measures, etc. Yet somehow there seemed to be no change. My counselee kept finding new ways to entertain his lust.
What had I missed? How was it that this man who wanted to grow kept going back to the same sin and making no progress?
It was around this time that I came across a formative section from William Gurnall’s book, The Christian in Complete Armor.¹ Speaking to the challenges of being a Christian, Gurnall argued that the great struggle of Christianity (at least in part) is that God calls us to “proclaim and prosecute an irreconcilable war against” our “bosom sins.”²
Up to that point I had never heard of a “bosom sin” but I immediately knew what Gurnall meant. A “bosom sin” is a sin that we love. It’s a sin we carry in our pocket and pull out when life gets hard. While we hate the effect of the sin—sin always breeds death—we pervertedly enjoy the immediate gratification it can bring us and, therefore, we hate to part ways with it. So as the years go by, we keep our “bosom sin” tucked away, in safe keeping, for whenever we might want to pull it out and “enjoy.” For some it’s binge eating. For others it’s alcohol. Some hide away a bosom sin of entertainment, of illicit sexual gratification, of social media gluttony, and the list goes on.
As I considered Gurnall’s description, I quickly recognized that my counselee’s lust was his “bosom sin.” We had met each week to discuss the war strategy to kill his lust, but long ago he had made a pitiful alliance with it. He would keep it hidden from everyone and bring it out on those days when he really felt the need for pleasure or escape. If he ended the alliance and killed his lust, what would he do for help when the pressure of life was on?
Gurnall went on to make a powerful comparison. As God called Abraham to slaughter his beloved son Isaac (Genesis 22:2)—the son who brought him so much joy and life—God calls every Christian to slaughter the sins that lie closest to our hearts. It’s as if God were saying to us,
Soul, take thy lust, thy only lust which is the child of thy dearest love, thy Isaac, the sin which has caused most joy and laughter, from which thou hast promised thyself the greatest return of pleasure or profit; . . . lay your hands on it and offer it up; pour out the blood of it before me; run the sacrificing knife of mortification into the very heart of it . . . and all this now, before thou hast one embrace more from it.³
Lust was my counselee’s “Isaac.” He wanted to follow God, but how could he part ways with this sin that had become so pervertedly precious to him—even if its after effects were always bitter?
All at once I could see the situation clearly. And it wasn’t just my counselee’s problem that was now in focus. Immediately I began to see the “Isaacs” that were in my own heart. Like my counselee, I had also proclaimed “peace” to some sins rather than “prosecuting an irreconcilable war” against them.
By God’s grace I also recognized that the key to helping my counselee (and myself) change was twofold. First, I needed to help him see that the perverted, bitter “pleasure” his bosom sin afforded him was nothing compared to the pleasures of God. To help with this I had him memorize Hebrews 11:6,
Without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him.
In order to kill his sin, my counselee needed to become convinced that the reward for following God surpassed the “reward” of sin. God is a rewarder. At His right hand are pleasures forevermore, and those pleasures are not just reserved for heaven (Psalm 16:11). They break into the present by faith so that the follower of Christ reaps heavenly rewards today.
But my counselee didn’t just need to see this—He needed to fight to believe that the bitter, biting “pleasures” of his “bosom sin” were not even comparable to the reward and pleasure God was offering him. In other words, he needed to see the lunacy of what he was doing. God was holding out the full array of heavenly blessing to my friend while he continued to play in the sewer of his secret lust. He needed to be persuaded—and to persuade himself by faith—that the reward for following Christ far exceeded the reward of keeping his “bosom sin” alive. That was the first step.
The second step flowed immediately out of the first. Once he realized that God offered a superior joy to the bitter “joy” of his bosom sin, he needed to thrust the sword through the heart of it. That’s what we had been working on for weeks. However, because of his secret alliance with lust He had been unwilling to strike the blow. But now—praise God—having become convinced that God was a better rewarder than lust, my counselee finally laid his “Isaac” on the altar.
Yet, it wasn’t easy. Unlike Isaac who calmly laid on the altar, our “bosom sins” do not take the prospect of death with serenity. As we seek to kill them, our bosom sins “roar and shriek; yea, even shake and rend the heart with [their] hideous outcries.”⁴ But, in the end—with God’s help—my friend finally stood victorious over his “Isaac” and I learned an unforgettable lesson about counseling, “bosom sins,” and the God who rewards those who seek Him.
¹ Gurnall, William. The Christian in Complete Armour. Edinburgh: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1986. Originally published in three volumes between 1662 and 1665.
² Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour, 13.
³ Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour, 13.
⁴ Gurnall The Christian in Complete Armour, 13