Entering the New Covenant by Death to Self – David Wilkerson
Down
into Nothingness
I
experienced the “going down into nothingness.” Now, I am not interested in the
dictionary’s definition of nothingness. All I know is
that I came to the end of myself—down, down, down into a place of total
helplessness.
I had
struggled long and hard to be obedient to the Lord, striving earnestly to live
a holy life and to be pure. I had tried diligently to beat down every passion
and lust in my body and mind. I had read many books and listened to many
teachers, looking for keys, insights, secrets to living the life of an
overcomer. I had wept until there were no more tears. I had walked and prayed,
I had knelt and prayed, I had lain on my face and prayed. I had read my Bible
until my eyes were weary. I had begged the Holy Spirit to cut off my offending
right arm, pluck out my offending right eye, do whatever He had to do to rid me
of all besetting sins. I wanted to be a pleasure to my Lord so badly.
Then
one day I could take it no more. On that day, I could not even pray. All I
could do was lie on the floor, empty in spirit, with no tears left. Engulfed in
a sense of failure, I could only say, “Lord, I cannot go on like this anymore.
I am worn out. I have tried and failed. After all my searching through books,
all my study, all my efforts to be a conqueror, I still battle with the flesh.
My temptations have not let up. I have tried to be a living sacrifice. I have struggled
to live by faith. I have tried diligently to live and walk in the Spirit, to
allow Him to lead me and empower me. But I still don’t get it. I still don’t
understand why it’s not getting through to me.”
Down
into nothingness I went—where the cry is, “Lord, I can’t struggle anymore. I
have nothing in me to offer You—no merit, no plea. I have no more power, no
more fight. I am weak, helpless. I’m clueless as to what I need to do.”
Down
to nothingness—where you know nobody on this earth can help you. No counselor,
no loved one, no friend, no minister. It is a place where you know that unless
the Lord comes to change you—to open your eyes and show you the way—it cannot
be done. It is a place where you know beyond any shadow of a doubt you can do
nothing on your own. It is where you once and for all face the truth that all
your struggling and striving in the flesh have gotten you nowhere, and now
everything depends on Him. If there is going to be revelation, He has to give
it. If there is going to be deliverance from besetting sins, the Holy Spirit
has to do it. If things in my life need fixing, He has to fix them. If I am to
be a blessing and joy to Him, He has to make it happen. If I am to walk in the
Spirit, He has to show me how. If the Holy Spirit is to empower me to defeat
lust or passion, it must happen by imputed faith alone. I am now out of the
picture. Out of nothingness must come His supernatural strength. My promises
are worthless because I cannot keep any of them. My striving is in vain because
I have nothing to work with.
Down
to nothingness—where I no longer have a will of my own. On my own I am
helpless, “will-less.” I have given up my will because it has failed to
accomplish any spirituality in me at all. At this place, I found myself on solid
ground to remind Jesus that He Himself could do nothing on His own.
Then
Jesus answered and said to them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, the Son can do
nothing of Himself, but what He sees the Father do; for whatever He does, the
Son also does in like manner. For the Father loves the Son, and shows Him all
things that He Himself does; and He will show Him greater works than these,
that you may marvel. . . . I can of Myself do nothing. As I
hear, I judge; and My judgment is righteous, because I do not seek My own will
but the will of the Father who sent Me.” (John 5:19–20, 30)
It was
there in my nothingness that I told Jesus, “You were God in flesh, yet You
needed the Father’s direction. You could do nothing on Your own. How could You
expect any more of me? If You needed help and direction with every step, how
much more do I need You to guide me in everything? How much more helpless am I
without the same love and guidance from the Father? Jesus, You said Your Father
loved You, and, therefore, He showed You ‘all things that He Himself does.’”
If I
am in Christ, and His Father is my Father, then I am also loved. And He must
show me all that He wants to do through me, for Him.
Then
said Jesus to them, “When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will know that I
am He, and that I do nothing of Myself; but as My Father taught Me, I speak
these things. And He who sent Me is with Me. The Father has not left Me alone,
for I always do those things that please Him.” (John 8:28–29)
Nothingness—a
place where you feel abandoned. You love Him, you desire Him, you know that He
is, but you feel that for some unknown reason He is silent. His revelation is
not coming to you. He is not answering your heart’s cry for a clearer vision of
what you are going through.
In
such an hour, Jesus cried to the Father, “‘Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?’ which
is translated, ‘My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?’” (Mark 15:34). I
made the same cry: “Father, all I want is to do Your will and please You. Why
must I bear this sense that I’m on my own? Why do You not respond in my
desperate time? Why is my soul so cast down with feelings of rejection and
confusion?”
When
Jesus said to His followers, “Take up your cross and follow Me,” He meant, “You
will go down the same path to death.” A cross experience is when you think God
has turned a deaf ear to your cry for righteousness and holiness. For a season
your prayers go unanswered, and your heart rises up and begins to reason: “All
I wanted was to be like Jesus—to walk in victory, to be a joy to Him, to enjoy
sweet communion. But this? Why is there no clear way, no reassurance? Why is
this darkness in my soul—this feeling of speaking into God’s ear, yet He
appears not to hear? Why does it have to be so complicated?”
It
is at this point in His crucifixion that Jesus broke through the devil’s cloud
and cried aloud in faith. “When Jesus had cried out with a loud voice, He said,
‘Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit.’ Having said this, He breathed His
last” (Luke 23:46).
Here
is where the cross is most powerfully experienced. It happens when in my
nothingness, I surrender my will—I quit struggling and striving. I now become
wholly dependent on Him. The matter is now out of my hands completely; God has
to take over. His Spirit must take me into death and raise me up as a new man.
I give up the ghost, the independent life of flesh. Death to all ambition.
Death to boasting and trying to impress others. Death to doing anything on my
own. Death to my plans, desires, will. Death to all my striving to please Him.
And, most of all, death to my past flesh-faith.
How
many times have I struggled to muster up faith and tried to pump it up with
promises? I repeated over and over, “Lord, I believe, I do believe, I really
believe. I really, truly, honestly believe.” But it did not work. (You can
always tell a request that is of the flesh, because it comes with a deadline.
We give God what we consider long enough to act—but when He does not perform on
schedule, our so-called faith turns into ugly unbelief.)
Death—it
is the only way out of the Old Covenant and into the New. “Flesh-faith” has to
die. No more striving to believe. If I am to have faith—true faith, the faith
of Christ—He has to give it to me. We have been given a measure of faith—yet if
it is true that I can do nothing of myself, then this includes having His
faith. That is why Scripture calls it “the faith of Christ.”
Paul
wrote:
I
was alive once without the law, but when the commandment came, sin revived and
I died. And the commandment, which was to bring life, I found to bring death.
For sin, taking occasion by the commandment, deceived me, and by it killed me.
Therefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy and just and good. Has then
what is good become death to me? Certainly not! But sin, that it might appear
sin, was producing death in me through what is good, so that sin through the
commandment might become exceedingly sinful. (Romans 7:9–13)
Are
you sin-sick? Are you truly yearning to live a holy life, free from the
habituating lusts of the flesh? Then get ready to die. Get ready to embrace the
cross. The Old Covenant will bring you to your wits’ end—to nothingness. When
you have given up all hope of overcoming sin by your own human power and will,
then you are ready to enter the glorious realm of freedom through the New
Covenant.
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