Jesus teaches that our sins are our own, and the guilt belongs to no one else. It’s hard to accept. Even after Eve ate the apple in the Garden, she told God that the serpent had tricked her into doing it. And perhaps that was a unique event in history, but it didn’t exonerate her guilt.

Matthew 15:19:

…out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander.

When a man and woman who are courting each other fall into sexual sin together, it was not the situation that created the sin, it only afforded the opportunity for the sinful nature to exercise itself. The things and situations around us are not to blame for our sinful failures, those failures reside in the heart already.

Matthew-Henry puts it this way:

It is the heart that is desperately wicked, Jer 17:9, for there is no sin in word or deed, which was not first in the heart. They all come out of the man, and are fruits of that wickedness which is in the heart, and is wrought there.

A mere disciplining of our situations is a dire insufficiency in our fight against sin. To block our chances to sin does very little but paste a pleasing veneer over the surface. The only real solution is to appeal to the grace of God in Jesus Christ to actually change our hearts, so that we might desire different things completely.

Sir Thomas Browne writes about the heart’s wickedness as it stands in tension with the devil’s temptations:

“Our corrupted hearts are the factories of the devil, which may be at work without his presence; for when that circumventing spirit has drawn malice, envy and all unrighteousness unto well-rooted habits in his disciples, iniquity then goes upon its own legs; and if the gates of hell were shut up for a time, vice would still be fertile and produce the fruits of hell…”

It’s easy to blame our struggles and sin on temptation from the devil—or adverse spirits in general. And were we still in a state of perfection, like Adam and Eve were, this might be accurate. But the reality as it stands today is that we don’t need the devil’s influence to do evil.

Often, we do it all by ourselves.

The classic puritan Christian, Thomas Watson, eloquently shares his thoughts on the tension between the heart and the mind.

"The bare knowledge of God’s will is inefficacious, it doth not better the heart. Knowledge alone is like a winter sun, which hath no heat or influence; it doth not warm the affections, or purify the conscience. Judas was a great luminary, he knew God’s will, but he was a traitor."

“Knowledge alone is like a winter sun…” Superb. The sun is always hot, but its heat is not appreciated under a blanket of frozen water. Much like our minds, when filled with heat radiating knowledge of God and his word—it can’t do anything for an icy heart.

Thomas Watson affirms that both must be working for spiritual prosperity.

Matthew Henry writes:

“That is best for us which is best for our souls, though it be unpleasing to sense.”

The verse he had in mind when he wrote that was Ecclesiastes 7:3:

Sorrow is better than laughter,
    for by sadness of face the heart is made glad.

I had to scratch my head at that verse for a little while before I grasped what was in mind when it was written. The English language really makes things confusing here. It almost seems like a paradox—a ‘sad’ face makes a ‘glad’ heart?

But the concept he’s touching on here is much bigger than it would seem at first.

Our physical, temporal appreciation for life and our heart-gut level appreciation for it do not necessarily line up all the time. If we allow ourselves to sink into old, sinful habits, we may enjoy the temporal experience. But our soul is wincing in pain.

The argument is being made that often temporal discomfort is much better for the soul than anything otherwise. And what is better for the soul will make us truly ‘glad’.

I think this is a concept Americans have difficulty grasping because in our society of the middle-class, there’s virtually always a way out of any kind of temporal discomfort. I imagine that few of us can really understand what these writers are saying.

Scripture calls us to love one another (brothers and sisters in Christ), and to love our enemies. You’ve probably heard the saying, “I love them, I just don’t like them…”. Well, that’s bogus. “Like” is a tricky word, but it isn’t the emotional side of “love”. When we’re called to love one another and love our enemies, we’re being called to action of course, but we’re also called to some kind of affection.

This is where things get tricky, because it would seem that we don’t have the ability to change our hearts affections. We simply care about something, or don’t care about something. That’s where the saying came from—”I can love them (i.e., do kind things for them or to them), but I can’t like them (i.e., have an affection for them).”

Take a look at two verses real quick:

Why should you harden your hearts as the Egyptians and Pharaoh hardened their hearts? (1 Samuel 6:6)

And this one:

“And I [the LORD] will harden the hearts of the Egyptians so that they shall go in after them, and I will get glory over Pharaoh and all his host, his chariots, and his horsemen.”

We see here two sides of the same coin, and the solution to our dilemma. The Egyptians hearts were hardened against the Israelites. They did it and God did it. God used the Egyptians actions (or inactions) to bring about their hardness of heart—therefore both can claim responsibility.

What if we were seeking a softened heart? Would it not be the same way? It would. I will soften my heart and God will soften my heart.

The Christian life can’t be wrapped up entirely into what we “do” and it can’t be wrapped up entirely in what we “experience”, nor can it be wrapped up in how we “feel”. However, all of these are necessary components. Many people shy away from making any claims about  the latter two because they seem outside of our control. But that’s only half-true.

Should we have a heart of compassion for someone or something, but we don’t? We should pray, take steps toward that condition ourselves, and wait for God to give us that heart.

Unfortunately, the Egyptians experienced this in reverse. But if we’d try and trust, we don’t have to.

I’m a person who doesn’t always feels like praying. I think, ask most ordinary Christians and most of them will tell you that they usually pray when they feel most inspired to pray, and when they do not, they don’t. That makes sense. Much like in spending time with a family member or friend, the quality of our conversations has a lot to do with how much we want to be having the conversation.

Well for me, not feeling like praying becomes kind of a blockade in my mind and heart. I look foreword to what I think my prayers will be like and what I will be thinking and feeling about them and I conclude that the prayers will not be very good–maybe unfruitful–and I ultimately choose not to pray.

But, this is silly thinking, and the Lord showed me that today as I prayed with a friend, despite my (and his) disinterest in doing so.

We began praying with sterile, synthetic words. Mostly going through the motions, asking for grace and mercy for having such sterile and synthetic hearts. Then, followed into prayers of adoration, thanksgiving, repentance and eventually supplication for those around us and our community. Before long I realized that through praying, the Lord had turned my synthetic heart into an organic one.

I was feeling for those I was praying for. I was caring about what was being said and I Was earnestly desiring that God would respond, both locally and globally for what we were asking.

When we were done, I was glad that we’d prayed. But it got me thinking. Was this just a case of “getting in the mood”? Like when you don’t feel like watching a movie, but someone puts on on anyways and before long you’re sucked in?

Maybe partially. But I don’t think so; not overall.

I was thinking about The Lord’s Prayer. Many of the things we’re told to pray for are things that are promised elsewhere, regardless of prayer. Think about it. “Hallowed be your name…”, Romans 14:11 says, “It is written: ‘every knee will bow before me; every tongue will confess to God.’ ” Or, “Your will be done”? We have a sovereign God. Nearly every page of the Old Testament (and New) speaks of God’s unthwartable will.

On the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (Matthew 6:6-8).

It seems clear that prayer cannot be only supplication to God for things that he’s either already planning to do or else knows we need.

That’s where I think a big part of prayer is revealed. It’s not entirely in how our prayers affect God, it’s how they affect us. Perhaps when we pray that God would change our hearts, he does change our hearts, using the very prayers we are praying. Perhaps when we’re praying, we’re not only speaking to God, but also to our own hearts.

When we say, “God, give health to Suzie’s grandmother who’s ill”, maybe we’re also saying quietly to our own hearts, “Heart, care about Suzie’s grandmother’s health.”

I’m not sure that at this point I can really substantiate this from scripture. But it something that I think I can see as a pattern in my own life and experience. But, regardless of what exactly is happening, it is clear that it is a grace from God. It is another reason to feel grateful.