Forget Sin, Forget God

For I know my transgressions,

and my sin is always before me.

-Psalm 51:3

Before sin can be behind you, it must come before you. You must see the eyes of those you have hurt. You must come to know that the faces you see full of hurt and anger are really reflections of your own. Sin must come before you so that you know your transgressions. Such intimate knowledge is not something you forget.

Forgetting your sin is forgetting God, because at the heart of all sin is a God who has been hurt. He is not hurt by self-pity, but by deep concern for us and those we have hurt. Forgetting our sin means accepting it. It remains too close for us to see and fear. Without fear of sin, there can be no fear of God.

The cross of the suffering Christ is a deep, still pool in which we see our sin. We swear friendship, loyalty, and love to Jesus, but cannot stay awake with him. We curse ourselves and swear we do not know him with our actions if not our very words. We strike out with swords and anger instead of standing firm beside him. We run off naked into the night, exposed as foolish, frightened children.

The One who would not save himself hangs before us. He is the mirror of each of us, caught in sin, nailed to that which kills us, unable to save ourselves. Empty religion builds the cross and leaves us there to die. It points out the futility of our lives and cries out to God, "Why have you forsaken me?" but waits for no reply and anticipates no rescue. Empty religion is the cross with no crown, Adam in futility working the soil for thorns, Eve in pain bearing only a still-born child. It puts us on the cross and makes us self-pitying martyrs instead of the New Creation.

The One who is innocent and yet condemned stands before us. Mocked and beaten with a crown of thorns he is hated for no reason, for being with the wrong people, being guilty of telling the truth about himself and our sin. Brutal government finds it necessary that the innocent should die rather than a whole nation perish. Unsubstantiated claims drown out true confession. The howling crowds dictate justice, wanting to see punishment rather than seek vindication and reconciliation. Whether we are unwilling to help or a party to his condemnation, our brutality is shown in the flogged, spat-upon Savior who stands before us.

We remember our sin so we can remember God. Nothing else. Our personal sins will make us run and hide. Our empty religion will crucify us. Our brutal politics will bring us to hate and blame. 

"I know my transgressions" so that I might know you, Jesus. You bore the cross, but you did not stay there, but you did not stay there, and neither must I. Amen.

How Jesus and Paul Loved the Law

What has been the effect of antinomian Christianity on spiritual formation?

Antinomian Christianity is Christianity which is lived “against the law.” In this view we are not only made right (justified) with God apart from the law, we are made right by avoiding disciplined action according to the law. “It amounts to rejecting [the law] entirely except in so far as it may be done to you by God, passively.”1

With such a relationship to the law, antinomian Christianity has a spiritual formation without any form. Such Christianity must rely on “grace as formless spurts of permissiveness that thrust the law aside.”2 Without the form of the law to guide and structure our spirituality, we are left with a grace that merely allows disobedience and empty living. The formation of our spirit is not based on the revelation of God’s guidance for all of life, but on emaciated superstitions that reduce life with God to mere service to humanity, a “get-out-of-hell-free” card, or a really good worship service show.

Why did Paul “love” the law? (Note Romans 7:22)

Paul loved the law because it made him “conscious of sin” (Ro. 3:22), his great enemy which sought to enslave him to “impurity and ever-increasing wickedness.” (6:19-20) He loved the law which was so “holy, righteous, and good” (7:12) that sin wanted to deceive him and make “the very commandment that was intended to bring life actually [bring] death.” (7:1-0-11) The law helped Paul to see and know sin as his great enemy bent on deceiving and killing him. The law also explained, taught, and illustrated a life of willing “slavery” to God in “true righteousness and holiness” (Ep. 2:24), the very essence of eternal living of a life like God’s. (Ro. 6:23)

Why is the law so important even today?

Sin is still our greatest enemy and we are in need of guidance and teaching more than ever. With the loss of the knowledge of morality in favor of a vague sympathy for morality, we find ourselves cut adrift, “infants [in knowledge], tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming.” (Ep. 4:14) We are more afraid of law than of sin, more afraid of guilt than of wrongdoing. So, we find ourselves unable to grow in grace and have called such stagnancy the inevitable cost of being fallen human beings. Our world and our lives look quite pagan, without hope and without God (Ep.2:12). The law supports us and can bring hope and God’s presence through a grace that actually brings knowledge and overcomes sin.

How do law and grace go together?

The law is direction and guidance, which is a grace in itself, but it is not complete. The law points to the fullness of grace found only in Jesus. As Dallas Willard said, “The law is the course of rightness, not the source of rightness.” When law is taken as ultimate in our life with God (“The Bible says it, so I will do it!”), we find our willpower is insufficient to keep the law, so “what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” (Ro. 7:15) This is because our will is no match for sin coming at us in obsessive desires. (vv. 18-20) When the law is not ultimate, but subordinate to the grace through Jesus in his abiding Spirit, it becomes a powerful ally, able to not only identify sin, but able to bring new desires that overcome sin from a new nature operating in and around us.

Why is the law so important to the soul and its restoration?

More and more we are finding that recovery of physical function after injury must include the right kind of activity and effort of the affected areas. Apathy makes injuries much harder to heal or even permanent. Similarly, our souls cannot heal without the right kind of effort in their injured and fragmented areas. “The law was given as an essential meeting place between God and human beings in covenant relationship with him, where the sincere heart would be received, instructed, and enabled by God to walk in his ways.”3 This “meeting place” is one where delighting in the law will bring integration and healing to the soul by God’s grace supplied by Jesus, our Teacher. The efforts to delight in the law may seem small and indirect, but will help the soul as nothing else can. Where there is healing and help for the soul, God’s kind of life flows through our life and our being making what is impossible for any person possible with God.

____________________________________________________________________________

1Willard, Dallas. Renovation of the Heart: Putting On the Character of Christ (p. 213). The Navigators. Kindle Edition.

2Ibid, 215.

3Ibid, 212.

The Deliverance of the Cross

These are the shadows of things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.  (Colossians 2:17)

Holy Week may be the greatest "reality check" that we all have.  In the midst of dreams and disappointments, Jesus's road to and beyond the cross stands as a stark contrast.  It shows us that we typically greatly overestimate our own ability and goodness and greatly underestimate God's ability and goodness.  So we find reality.

The cross is not a requirement of mere suffering or sacrifice for followers of Jesus.  We serve a God who says, "I desire to show you mercy, not demand your sacrifice."  The part of us that suffers is the part that needs to die: our merely self-gratifying desires.  The cross stands as the ultimate sign of the frustration of such desires.

We need someone to deliver us from the black hole of self-gratification.  It takes more than putting such desires to death.  It takes a new way of life and a completely new foundation:

In just the same way as you took the Christ, even Jesus, the Lord, to your side at one point, 

  keep walking with Him, 

  since you have been planted in Him 

    and are rooted in Him, 

    and are building your lives upon Him,

  and are developing inner strength by your trust.

Do all this just as you were taught, 

  while being excessive in your gratefulness to God. (2:6-7)

Just as the cross points to the resurrection, so the putting to death of our earthly desires points to something greater for our desires to focus on.  As we plot the destruction of such things that enslave us, we can begin to see something new sprouting from our soul: new thoughts, new feelings, a new sense of purpose, new relationships.  Take note of these things or you may find yourself slipping into a grudging and grinding spirituality rather than the freedom that Christ gives.

Paul gives a few warnings about going in the wrong direction (2:23).  Do not "worship" the will or rely too heavily upon it.  If you do you will find yourself exhausted before the day is done and falling back into the habits you are trying to fight.  

Do not humiliate yourself.  Talking down to yourself will actually lead you back to your "coping mechanisms."  Speak to your heart like you would a little child, kindly and carefully.  

Do not focus on practices that are hard on the body.  Habits are not destroyed in a day.  Just like working yeast through dough kneed good practices into your live and bad practices out.  A little bit can go a long way.  This is more of a marathon than a sprint.

I want to encourage you.  Use what is helpful.  Share how God is dealing with you so that other people can benefit.

May you find the joy of increasing freedom from sin and of service to Christ and his kingdom this week!

(A letter to my fellow pilgrims I meet with)

A New Kind of Forgetting

"My friends, I don’t feel that I have already arrived. But I forget what is behind, and I struggle for what is ahead."  (Philippians 3:13, CEV)

What is Paul forgetting, neglecting, overlooking?  “What I once thought was valuable is worthless.”  (v.7)  Forgetting God gives birth to sin and pride.  Paul has reversed the equation.  Instead of neglecting God and valuing sins and his previous accomplishments (vv.3-6), he has now begun to seek God and neglect what he once valued.

How would I apply such forgetfulness to my life?  One thing I have found helpful is procrastination.  Instead of putting off what is good, I have been learning how to put off what I should not do.  Instead of a bold “No!”, I find a lazy “Maybe later” a good way to overcome some sins.

Nothing is quite as dangerous as hope placed on the wrong object.  Nothing is quite as strengthening as hope well-placed.   So I find Paul’s hope so powerful and encouraging: “Nothing is as wonderful as knowing Christ Jesus, my Master.” (v. 8)  Hope is not only found in what I look forward to, but also what I leave behind.

Unburdening the Heart

Kindness comes from a heart unburdened
  and joy from a soul set free.
When can I go and meet with God,
  the One who goes unseen?
  Before the One unseen.

In a secret room with bolted door
  alone with the God I know,
I pray unforced with quiet hands
  that let every burden go.
  Let every burden go.

Just a corner in the courts of God
  is all I really need.
Surrounded by much greater prayers,
  I only plant a seed.
  Just a little seed.

My hands get tied, my mind obsessed
  by sins I know too well.
I need the freedom of holiness
  to pull these weeds of hell.
  Pull out these weeds of hell.

I must let go of my brother's neck -
  of our debts we take our leave.
We gather in our Savior's arms.
  We're safe with him between.
  Only safe with him between.

No duty, no law, no preacher's word
  is safe without this tie.
Unyoked from duty, in freedom free,
  Released from laws that lie.
  Released from laws that lie.

True holiness is freedom's path -
  it's sin that brings the fear.
More people do not make more love.
  if Jesus is not near.
  Jesus must be near.

How I Cannot Help Myself

Romans 7, The Law of Sin and Death

In trying to sum up Romans 7, I think Paul points to this law: I do what I hate.  This inconsistency and lack of integrity in my heart is "business as usual" when I live "in the flesh," that is, by my own status and abilities, only.  Paul calls this the law of sin and death.  The death he describes is one of guilt and condemnation, although I do not think this excludes physical decay, as I note Paul's discussion later in chapter 8.

I unpack this law by identifying the parts of me that contribute to this way of life.  If I do what I do not want to do, then it is not I, but sin living in me that is at work.  I can see why this idea of Paul's might be used as an excuse for continued sin in my life.  It almost sounds like it is inevitable.  It is, "in the flesh."  This is the "natural" state of a person apart from the Spirit.  Paul is not promoting self-resignation here, but pointing out the enslavement of the will.  This is one of the indicators of this law of sin and death, this life in the flesh: enslavement to sin.

Another contributor to this way of life is the body indwelt by sin.  Sin is located in the members of the body most specifically.  I can see how this has encouraged a poor view of the body even to the extent of body hatred or mistreatment.  After all, Paul cries out in desperation, "Who will save me from this body of death?"  And yet what has happened is that the body has been offered to the wrong master.  In short, my body ends up full of sinful habits.  Things "come naturally" to me because my body has been trained to do certain things without thinking or directly willing them.

The mind is also affected by this law of sin and death.  Although I may be taught by God's laws and have some desire to do them, I find that sin takes these very good things and converts them into evil desires.  A mind without such knowledge is "dead to sin" in that it remains unaware of sin's active presence, but "death reigns" (Romans 5) even with this lack of knowledge.  Unfortunately, even with the knowledge, I may not "dead to sin," but find that sin produces death in me by taking such knowledge and deceiving me.  How does sin deceive?  It takes the knowledge of the law and produces evil desires.  I hear about what is wrong or forbidden and then I long for it.  The mind is darkened.  It becomes a place where even what is good becomes a snare because my desires remain opposed to God.  Whatever I think becomes rationalization for doing what sin in me desires rather than reasons to trust and follow Jesus.

The law of doing what I hate, then, shows that my will in enslaved by sin, my body is inhabited by sin, and my mind is darkened by sin.  The law of sin and death is that when I take on sin, I die.  I cannot overcome sin through choosing not to sin, sin my will is enslaved.  My will is enslaved by my sin-inhabited body, which by habit and training opposed my good choices with evil desires.  My mind remains darkened because the desires of sin rule and pervert my thoughts and feelings into rationalizations.  Sin rules in me through desires that inhabit my body, enslave my will, and darken my mind.

This is not how I am to live.  Romans 6 makes it clear that living enslaved to sin is not what God intends for his children.  Baptism is a picture of the death that I must enter so that I might find resurrection in my life.  I am not only looking forward to being raised form the dead, I am supposed to live a life raised from the death that sin brings in a new life in this age.

Romans 8 describes the freedom from this death, this condemnation that sin brings.  I am set free from the law of sin and death by the law of the Spirit and life.  As sin brings death, the Spirit brings life.

Lord, I see that I cannot cope with sin or fight sin, I must lay myself out to die so that sin my be removed from my being and so that I may live a new life.  Let this immersion into death be done to me, so that I might be raised into your love and light, Father.  Increase my trust in you.  I fear leaving sin behind at times, but have found such hope in your work in my life.  Let me never try to manage sin.  It needs to die.  By your grace.  Amen.

"Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you."

Jesus asks a paralytic man a strange question: "Do you want to get well?" The answer plays out in how the man responds to Jesus.

He does not say "Yes" immediately, but complains about how he cannot enter a pool in the Temple which he thinks will heal him. His hope for restoration lies in this pool, probably used for some sort of ceremonial cleansing. Someone else always gets there first.

John paints this invalid man's plight as hopeless - he's been there 38 years - and as helpless - he can't make it to the water by himself and someone else always gets in first. To this hopelessness and helplessness, Jesus simply tells the man to get up and walk. John records no indication of thanks or belief from the invalid man. He doesn't even remember who Jesus is.

The lack of mention may seem an oversight, except that the Pharisees stop the man and accuse him of breaking the Sabbath. The accusation brings out the man's defensiveness and not his praise. He wants to get out of this small matter by blaming Jesus. This stinks of ingratitude on his part. After being healed from a 38-year malady the man can only point fingers and say, "He did it!"

Finally Jesus wraps up this lesson by finding the man and telling him to "stop sinning or something worse may happen." The man seems guilty of ingratitude and seems to prove it since right after Jesus warns him, he goes to tell the Pharisees who has made him well instead of leaving everything behind and following Jesus.

The real lesson lies a little deeper, however. Jesus talks about "something worse." What could possibly be worse than being unable to move yourself for 38 years with no help toward any healing at all? Certainly Jesus alludes to Hell. But more than that, he alludes to this Death that begins in this present existence, just as Life can being in this existence. "Hell" or "Heaven" begin now.

Sinning brings me into a hopeless, helpless mode of existence. It enslaves me and makes me do what I do not want to do. It takes my best intentions and turns them into a self-righteousness that corrupts me even more quickly. "The wages of sin is death," death in this life.

Jesus came so that we could stop sinning. He does not want us to live in hopelessness and helplessness. He sets us free from sinning. Like that invalid before Jesus, I have hope in healing from this self-induced sickness; I have help to break the debilitating habits I cannot break myself. My hope is based on God's kindness in Jesus, not on any ceremony (like the Pool of Siloam) that might heal me.

I also see my easy ingratitude, like this man. In the face of small accusations, I quickly forget the years of sin and brokenness that Jesus frees me from. I quickly abandon God and try to justify myself at his expense rather than giving him the praise. How can I forget so quickly that I was like that invalid man, 38 years in the hole without help from anyone, especially these accusers, who don't praise God for my healing, but look for reasons to accuse me anyway? How can I join them in looking for Jesus to accuse him?

Lord, I know my sins. I know your forgiveness. I know how quickly I forget your goodness and join others in making less of you. Let me overlook such condemnation and remember to praise you for your great pity on me. Something worse might happen. I may forget your goodness and live my life ignorant of it, thinking somehow I helped myself. Then I would become hopeless and helpless, because I cannot save myself. Save me from the twin sins of ingratitude and forgetfulness. Amen.

Sin Management versus Self-Sacrifice

God did not give me grace so I could manage my sin, but so I could put my sin to death. The grace to manage my sin is grace I give to myself. The grace I depend on when putting sin to death must be God's grace. Self-management is what I do instead of living sacrifice.

Sin management comes in several flavors. One is exchange; I give up a bad habit and replace it with a "good" one, or least, another one less lethal. The key words are, "I used to[something], but now I [something]." Another flavor is comparison: I look for some person or group of people that I feel I am better than them. This is a way to management the guilt of sin. The key words are, "But at least I am better than. . . ." Another kind is masking: I try to cover up my sin with doing other good things. The keywords are, "But at least I do. . . ."

All of these methods try to retain the self and its goals, but hope to "pretty it up enough" for God. All of these are waiting for eternal life rather than trying to live eternal life. All of these methods are comparison to people and not to Christ. Exchange compares my present state with my past state. Comparison sees only the bad things and worse things; it tries to make bad things good by comparing them to worse things. Masking sees good things I do as way of excusing the bad things I do.

Sin management does not use God's grace sufficiently. It only dabbles in it, using it as fuel for self-transformation, an excuse for bad things while avoiding worse things, or a cover-up of bad things while I try to do good things. God's grace can only be used to make us into Christ. It has no other purpose. Whatever is done on the way is secondary to Christ-likeness.

So the insufficiency of grace comes from an insufficient view of Christ. Inherently we see Christ-likeness as merely "being good." Just being good enough. Christ is so much more than a mere do-good-er. Jesus did not just go around doing "random acts of kindness." His goodness was defined by his purpose. He did not come just to be good in front of us. He did not come just to say, "It's ok that you're so bad." He did not come to give us a method for self-transformation, primarily. He came that we would have life, and life abundantly. This life is one in his kingdom, under God's rule, at God's side. His deeds, his forgiveness, his promise of transformation all point to this life with God, working with him, and loving him. I must seek things above, that is, "where Christ is seated at the right hand of God."

When I manage my sin, I remain in control of my life. I rule. I have tried to give up certain things, or do certain things so I can retain my own life, my own kingdom where God does not have a say. I think I can mange sin because I think I can manage myself. I manage sin because I think I can manage God himself.

To find my place in God's kingdom, I must give up my own kingdom. To live in God, I must die to myself. To find what I really need, I must give up what I think I want. To have a life with Christ, I must leave everything else behind.

extremesports

Sin management dabbles at the edge of the pool. Sacrifice dives in the middle. Sin management only intends to try. Sacrifice intends to accomplish.

Rather than trying to retain control of my life and deal with sin on the side, I must throw out my own ideas of what life should be and look to what Jesus said life is. Living the "good life" is not getting what I want when I want it, but getting what God wants when God wants me to have it.

If I try to manage sin, I will find that sin manages me. Sin must be put to death unmercifully.