We’re all familiar with the scene. The single light shining down onto a cold, metal table in a dark and empty interrogation room. The light from the overhead lamp illuminates the face of a man. He is handcuffed, dressed in prisoner orange. His face is both bright and dark, the effects of the single light bulb splashing light on his face above him. Across from him stands a figure. Sometimes he’s off in the shadows. Other times he’s seated at the table as well. This figure is dressed in a work suit, a holstered firearm strapped to his waist, and a gold badge glinting light from his belt.

There’s a million variations of this scene recounted across a full gamut of police and crime dramas, both in TV series and feature-length works. It’s the police interrogation scene. The suspect is grilled for information. The cops dig from every possible angle to uncover the secrets they know are being hidden. The questions aren’t just tough. They’re ruthless. Only the most hardened and sly criminals escape this moment.

Now, lest we conclude that this kind of interrogation is relegated to the realm of crime fiction and bonafide law enforcement, I want to make the case that every Christian has an obligation to conduct their own self-interrogation. When faced with tough decisions…choices about what we do, where we go, how we spend our time, what we will and won’t do with unbelievers. These choices require an immense amount of wisdom and discernment, and that kind of discernment doesn’t come by happenstance. Instead, it comes from a very intentional self-interrogation, where we ask ourselves hard questions and then honestly answer them as best we can, knowing that our flesh is very good at deceiving us to hide its true wants and desires.

What’s the goal? Maintain the tension of the Christian life. The tension of being a citizen of God’s coming kingdom while living “abroad,” so to speak, in a world we don’t belong to anymore. It’s a theme I’ve written on the past two weeks, and if you need to catch up, you can find the first two here and here.

Specifically last week, I introduced one of three questions we need to ask ourselves in this self-interrogation…will this decision obscure the gospel? You can read the details of that question from last week, but for this week I want to develop the other two questions.

Will it damage my testimony?

Another question to consider as we try to live in the tension of the Christian life is whether this relationship or decision will enhance or damage the testimony I have with unbelievers. This is closely related to the first question, but it’s a little different also.

You can’t always control the witness that you have to unbelievers. At any point, someone can bring a false accusation against you. They can malign your character, degrade you and ruin your credibility. That’s all part of being “not of this world.” “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account” (Matt 5:11). That’s a reality that we face and we don’t have any control over it.

That’s why, when Paul faced accusations against him, he appealed to the only place he could—his conscience. “Our proud confidence is this: the testimony of our conscience, that in holiness and godly sincerity, not in fleshly wisdom but in the grace of God, we have conducted ourselves in the world, and especially toward you” (2 Cor 1:12). Sometimes, the only appeal you can make is to the testimony of your conscience.

But all this isn’t to say that we have NO control over our testimony. When people know you’re a Christian, they watch what you do. Your coworkers see how you live and they evaluate the veracity of your faith claims partly on the integrity of your life. They are coming to conclusions about the sincerity of your faith—either rightly or wrongly—based on what you say, what you do, and what you don’t say and do.

As we interact with the unbelievers in our lives, one of the questions we have to ask is whether the decisions I’m making—about where to go with them and what to do with them, and what to talk about with them—those decisions can have a definitive impact on your testimony. Sometimes, discerning what to do or not do is far from easy. In fact, it can be painful. But it’s a necessary pain we have to feel. We have to “feel the burn,” as they say in the sports world. We have to ask questions life,

• How might this decision impact my testimony?
• Could it enhance my reputation as a Christian? Could it hinder it?
• Could it lead to better credibility, or take away from it?
• Could I lose anything by engaging with unbelievers in this way?

These are the difficult but necessary self-interrogations that make up the discernment process.

Will it endanger my faith?

All that leads to a final question, and one that helps to clarify anything that might not be as clear in the first two: will this relationship or decision put my faith in danger? Will it put me into a position to compromise doctrinally or morally?

This is the question we have to be the most careful about because it means we have to be VERY honest with ourselves. It’s so easy to fall into the trap of spiritual over-confidence. We know theology, we know the truth, and so nothing can hurt me. I’m impervious to any kind of doctrinal shift. I’m strong enough to resist the world’s temptations.

We all know the passage in 1 Corinthians 10:13 – “No temptation has overcome that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may endure it.” But it’s the verse before it that sets the stage for that promise—“Therefore let anyone who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.”

That’s an admonition to be on guard—you’re not as strong as you think you are. So you have to ask this question and be ready to answer it honestly. And the reason is simple and sobering: If you fall morally—there goes your testimony. If you fall doctrinally, there goes the clarity of the gospel. That’s a heavy price to pay to try to relieve the tension.

That’s why in the book of Jude, as he unfurls his strategy for “contending for the faith,” before he even gets to the part of rescuing the lost and the confused, he writes this:

“But you, beloved, building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life.” (Jude 20-21)

The command in all of that is this: keep yourselves in the God’s love. That’s the same thing as when Jesus said to his disciples, “Remain in me.” Stay in God’s love.

He says all that because he’s about to call them to rescue the victims of the apostates, and there’s a very real danger that some of them will apostatize, either doctrinally or morally. So he tells them, “STAY IN GOD’S LOVE!” How? By building yourself up in your faith—that’s your study and devotion to the Word—and by pray in the Holy Spirit—that’s your dependency on Christ.

Those two things will keep you safe. You show me a Christian who’s regularly in the word and in prayer, and I’ll show you a strong Christian. They know the Word, and they depend on Christ, and they know when they need to say, “No, that’s not good for me.”

Now, on the other hand, you show me a Christian who studies the word but doesn’t have a prayer life and I’ll show you a Christian whose overly confident and ready for a fall. Because they know the Word, they think their knowledge is enough to sustain them, but they forget that the Christian life is lived in dependency, and the greatest expression of that is in prayer!

And you show me a Christian who prays often but isn’t in the word, and I’ll show you someone whose ripe for doctrinal corruption. Sure, they pray. But they have no discernment. They have no way to judge truth and error.

Self-Interrogation

So these are the questions with which we launch our self-interrogation:

1. Will it obscure the gospel?
2. Will it damage my testimony?
3. Will it endanger my faith?

Now, here’s the toughest part of all. We have to answer them honestly. Our inner-suspect has to give the truth. Our inner-cop needs to recognize when we’re not being honest. We know that the heart is deceitful and desperately sick (Jer 17:9). We know that even though we are redeemed and washed and justified, there is still a battle that wages with our flesh. We know that our motivations to do this thing, go to this place, engage with that person, etc., can be less that pure. We may be driven by a fear of man…we are afraid to say, “No, I’m sorry, I can’t go there with you. I’m a Christian and I don’t think I should.” Or we may be driven by the simple desires of our flesh. Regardless, the questions we ask ourselves and level of scrutiny we give to them will mean the difference between living our Christian life haphazardly, unaware of the tensions we should feel, versus living in such away that we sense the reality that this world is not home.

This world is not my home I’m just a passing through
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore
Oh lord you know I have no friend like you
If heaven’s not my home then lord what will I do
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore