How Important Are Your Feelings?
It is not uncommon for Christians to judge their spiritual status almost entirely by the presence or absence of feelings. If feelings are in decline, the tendency is to lose motivation, gain guilt, and slack off in their pursuit of God.
Responding to this pronounced and prevailing tendency in our churches, J.C. Ryle wrote: “True holiness … does not consist merely of inward sensations and impressions. It is much more than tears, and sighs, and bodily excitement, and a quickened pulse.”
Were holiness this susceptible to the suspension of feelings, its stamina would soon fail when under assault. The outcome of that would be anything but holy.
Although a supernatural radiance shined forth from the first believers, this radiance wasn’t subject to, and dependent upon, the ebb and flow of feelings. Its source went much deeper.
When these believers worshiped their God, they found a reality that generated this supernatural glow. But being smitten with strong feelings didn’t produce this glow, and it didn’t sustain it.
“How many mistake emotional life for life in the Holy Ghost,” exclaimed England’s twentieth-century author, Jessie Penn-Lewis. And how many activate the excitement of the flesh in their aspiration for the joy of the Spirit.
But why? In the words of Charles Spurgeon, “Feelings are more fickle than the winds, more unsubstantial than bubbles ….”
The temper of the times in modern America—where it isn’t one nation under God but one nation under therapy—has feelings being regarded in an overly exalted way. We go to great lengths these days to discover feelings.
Like an archeologist searching for treasure, we dig and dig, until all that has been suppressed and repressed has been duly uncovered and thoroughly examined. Then, with bended knee, we do whatever the great god, Feelings, demands. And what a compelling case feelings can make!
Like a seductress, it begs for what it wants.
Like a circus barker, it promotes what it seeks.
Like a thief, it conspires to find a way to get it.
Like a sociopath, it blocks the hurt of those wounded in the process.
And we would follow the lead of this?
Sadly, we do follow feelings—and do so with an undeserved loyalty. Our motive for doing this? To avoid the immense pain feelings can inflict.
Like a punished child, it will throw a tantrum.
Like an offended woman, it will sulk and pout.
Like a scorned lover, it will seek revenge.
Like a cruel gangster, it will get that revenge in a swift and terrible way.
None of this is biblical or godly, and therefore feelings shouldn’t be highly regarded. Jay Adams said it well: We are to be commandment-motivated, not feeling-motivated. The Word of God must take precedence over the subterranean flow of potentially precarious feelings.
What God says is the determinative factor, not what we feel.
In this same vein of thought, A.W. Tozer comments:
“Religion,” say the theologians, “lies in the will” ... “If any man will,” said Jesus; he did not say, “If any man feel.” Feeling is a play of emotions over the will, a kind of musical accompaniment to the business of living, and while it is indeed most enjoyable to have the band play as we march to Zion; it is by no means indispensable. We can work and walk without music and if we have true faith we can walk with God without feeling.
Yes, when properly motivated and theologically trained, feelings can be a rich part of our experience. So in that context its full participation is very much welcomed and even expected. But if there is going to be a healthy connection between spirit and soul, feelings dare not lead the way!
