The Root of Loving: Self-Persuasion
Convincing ourselves of what is true, good, beautiful, and wise
As a deer pants for flowing streams,
so pants my soul for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God,
for the living God.
When shall I come and appear before God?
My tears have been my food
day and night,
while they say to me all the day long,
“Where is your God?”
These things I remember,
as I pour out my soul:
how I would go with the throng
and lead them in procession to the house of God
with glad shouts and songs of praise,
a multitude keeping festival.
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God. (Psalm 42:1-6, emphasis added)
The prayer begins like most laments: a torrent of pain inscribed in verse. David pants for a God who seems absent, pouring out his soul in prayers that seem to have no answer but themselves. His soul is unslaked, his body fed on tears.
But then a change. Instead of further expressing himself, David turns and begins exhorting himself. He confronts his own soul and admonishes it to change. “Hope in God; for I shall again praise him” is an exercise in self-persuasion. This is another key practice in the root of loving.
What is self-persuasion?
The surface meaning of self-persuasion is obvious: it’s attempting to persuade myself of something. But the concept can seem strange. It cuts against our cultural value of “believing in yourself,” which says that our intuitive desires and beliefs are good and should be followed. Some, like moral psychologist Jonathan Haidt, believe that those intuitive desires and beliefs are so strong that they will be followed, with our conscious self justifying our intuitive choices instead of correcting them. He compares the intuitive self to an elephant and the conscious self to a rider who believes he’s in control.
Self-persuasion acknowledges that there is an intuitive self, and that that self can feel as strong as an elephant – “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” (Romans 7:15). But it also believes that the intuitive self can be trained into greater alignment with consciously chosen values. And part of that training is making our chosen values seem as good and beautiful to our souls as we can. It’s helping ourselves want what we know to be right.
Taking the mic
Notice how David interrupts his own lament to start course-correcting his own soul. He starts by recalling a memory of worshipping God with the congregation of his people: a time when David didn’t have the doubts or questions he has right now. The memory obviously stabilizes him, because he goes on to say, “I shall again praise him” – I shall worship as I did before.
Pastor Martyn Lloyd-Jones writes,
Have you realized that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself? … Now this man’s treatment [in Psalm 42] was this: instead of allowing this self to talk to him, he starts talking to himself.
Self-persuasion begins by “taking the mic” from the intuitive self. Rather than letting fears or doubts be the loudest voices in our heads, self-persuasion speaks from our consciously chosen values and beliefs. This might be written (if we’re journaling), spoken silently to ourselves, or even spoken aloud, but it’s fundamentally “talking to yourself” instead of “listening to yourself.”
This might be as simple as a “fighter verse” or brief truth you memorize and repeat to yourself as needed; or it might involve writing out poems or paragraphs to present truth to yourself in the most compelling light. The more vivid your imagery or persuasive your language, the better!
Celebrating truth and scorning lies
In another great psalm that begins in distress, David writes:
The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply;
their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out
or take their names on my lips.
The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance. (Psalm 16:4-6)
David reminds himself of the fate of those who worship other gods to help himself resist the temptation he seems to feel to court them. He couples truth – idolatry leads to increasing sorrow – with a fresh pledge to live in light of that truth.
And he goes on to remind himself of the goodness of the Lord. “Portion,” “cup,” “lines,” and “inheritance” all recall Israel’s division of the land of Canaan, when each tribe received their “inheritance.” David is reminding himself that Yahweh is his portion and the holder of his fate, and that his inheritance is pleasant and beautiful (despite how he seems to feel). He both scorns the lie that chasing other gods would make him better off, and celebrates the goodness of the life Yahweh has given him.
Self-persuasion might involve both of these movements: recalling how vile or empty false gods are, and remembering how good God is. You may have seen this example from Martin Luther, who struggled with legalism and despair based on the Law:
O Law! You would climb up into the kingdom of my conscience, and there reign and condemn me for sin, and would take from me the joy of my heart which I have by faith in Christ, and drive me to desperation, that I might be without hope. You have overstepped your bounds. Know your place! You are a guide for my behavior, but you are not Savior and Lord of my heart. For I am baptized, and through the gospel am called to receive righteousness and eternal life… So trouble me not! For I will not allow you, so intolerable a tyrant and tormentor, to reign in my heart and conscience – for they are the seat and temple of Christ the Son of God, who is the king of righteousness and peace, and my most sweet savior and mediator. He shall keep my conscience joyful and quiet in the sound and pure doctrine of the gospel, through the knowledge of this passive and heavenly righteousness.
Luther addresses his would-be idol, Law, instead of himself, but the practice is just as powerful. He identifies its tyranny (“condemn me for sin,” “take from me the joy of my heart”), calls out its error (“you are a guide for my behavior, but you are not Savior and Lord”), and bids it away by calling in the truth of justification by faith (“through the knowledge of this passive and heavenly righteousness”). He uses both reason – asserting why Law doesn’t belong where his soul would put it – and emotion, painting the beauty of justification by faith too.
If you know an idol or sin you need to rebuke, or a truth you need to have growing in your life, consider writing a mini-sermon pushing yourself in the right direction. Like the creative work we discussed last time, no one but you needs to read it, so go wild without fear of others reading or hearing it!
Calling for action
In Psalm 42, David employs more than memory and truth in his self-persuasion: he gives himself something to do. “Hope in God” is a mental action – it entails replacing his habit of worry or grief with choosing to trust God. In Psalm 16, David writes, “I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.” He reminds himself of an action that he had committed to – keeping God at the fore of his thoughts and choices – and reaffirms that commitment.
We tend to think that thoughts/desires and actions have a one-way relationship, where what’s inside causes what’s outside. But the actual relationship is more complicated: our actions shape both our desires and our beliefs.
If your soul needs to be moved, think of an action that’s likely to move it in the right direction. Maybe it’s a mental habit, like praying instead of worrying. Or maybe it’s a physical one, like committing to a community group or Justin Earley’s “Scripture before phone.” Persuade yourself of why that’s good or wise, and make a commitment to God and to yourself to follow it.