All sins are not created equal

Growing up in American evangelicalism I know a thing or two about sentimentality. Statements like, "God loves everyone the same" and "God's love is unconditional" are just a part of the landscape. Another one of those phrases was something along the lines of "All sins are equal" or "No sin is worse than any other." In one respect that is true enough I suppose. After all, our sins are all a product of the corruption and deceitfulness of our hearts. Our sins without exception are expressions of the sinfulness which condemns us before a holy God.

However, there is a sense in which all sins are clearly not equal. And by "not equal" I mean that not all sins are as readily forgivable within the body of Christ. Forgiveness does not mean, nor should it mean immediate or easy restoration. For example, ask the average wife which of her husband's sins would be easier to forgive: harboring lust in his heart once or committing adultery once. I dare say the results would be overwhelmingly one-sided.

Carl Trueman, in a helpful article for Ref21 suggests that to deny sentimental ideas about forgiveness and restoration remain the one great heresy in the evangelical church.

Trueman writes:

I might speak disrespectfully to my wife at some point, and that is unacceptable; but if I do it repeatedly as a means of belittling her, or if I strike her with my hand, then a fundamental bond has been broken. Further, in the case of illicit sex, one who has joined his body to that of another who is not his wife has committed a sin of special heinousness; and that has permanent consequences, both in the marriage and the church. The sin does not put the person beyond the range of the forgiveness of God, but it disqualifies him from ever again meeting the criteria Paul sets forth for office-bearing in the church. I may be forgiven; but I will always be the man who beat his wife or cheated on her. My relationship with my wife is permanently changed; and my public reputation is permanently damaged.

That was essentially what underlay my criticism of the sudden reappearance of Haggard as a pastor -- and that not even as Pastor Nobody, quietly working away in Nowhereville, but as Pastor T.V. Celeb of the Parish of Satellite Channel. A simple, non-controversial point, I assumed; though apparently somewhat offensive and unbiblical in the context of a culture where the Great Heresy is to claim that forgiveness does not mean a limitless number of second chances at anything, as if the past had simply never happened.

Still, I want to suggest that the Great Heresy has more significance than simply ruling out of office certain men because of certain post-conversion actions. We might hate to acknowledge it, but Christian forgiveness should never be confused with the possibility of second chances. Forgiveness with God is absolute, and no matter how heinous the crime, God's grace is never withheld from those who look to him for mercy. Yet actions here on earth always have consequences. We do people no favours by pretending otherwise. The gospel is not about how you can beat your wife to a pulp on Tuesday and make love to her on Wednesday as if nothing had happened. That is teaching of a kind which is so ruthlessly propagated in a myriad of sitcoms and movies. In these, casual violence and illicit sex never seem to have any real or lasting impact on anybody, as if they were as inconsequential as one's choice of breakfast cereal or brand of coffee. On the contrary: God may forgive; but we must understand that part of the inherent tragedy of the fallen human condition is that we still live with the consequences of our sin.

Trueman also points out the important pastoral and theological implications of a proper understanding of sin and forgiveness.

It is vital that the gospel is not confused with sentimental second chances. This is important, both pastorally and theologically. Pastorally, it should make us compassionate towards those who struggle with the hangover of previous actions. It allows us to understand why the Christian who lived a homosexual lifestyle before conversion may continue to wrestle with such tendencies till the day he dies. Grace is not a wiping of the slate in the sense that one return to the start and begins all over again with a blank sheet. Rather, it is divine forgiveness despite who we have been and what we still are. That is very good news. Think of the church in Corinth, a small gathering of people, many of whom had probably worked in the sex trade. The amazing thing there was not that the church was being torn apart by immorality - that is what one would expect from a group of people wrestling with their past; rather, it was the fact that there was any church there in the first place.

On the other side of the balance sheet, however, this should lead us to have a high view of Christian behaviour. We must not confuse forgiveness with the idea of the past simply disappearing as if it had never happened. The gospel is not a magic bullet which continually returns us to Year Zero in every aspect of our lives. If I beat my wife, I am a wife beater, and there will be consequences. If, as a Christian, I beat my wife, I am a Christian wife beater and to be subject to the appropriate discipline and exclusions that apply. Sorry is not a magic formula which wipes the slate clean in every sense, and neither is God's grace. There is a difference between, on the one hand, forgiveness and restoration to fellowship, and, on the other, going back to the way things were. Some actions so fundamentally change relationships, reputations, and even personalities that there is no going back. We lie to our people if we tell them otherwise.

Theologically, the insidious sentimentality of the gospel-as-limitless-second-chances brigade is also subversive of a biblical understanding of exactly who God is and what salvation looks like. Remember: as Christ was hanging from the cross, the Disney redemptionists, the pragmatists, and the sentimental were out in force. Indeed, the religious leaders, the soldiers, and the first thief all called out to Christ and told him that, if he was truly king and messiah, he should immediately come down from the cross. They could only conceive of a gospel that simply wiped the slate clean and that ignored the consequences of human actions. Only the second thief understood the real point of what was happening that day: he saw clearly that Christ's kingdom was not be inaugurated in glorious and stubborn defiance of death, but rather by going through death and utterly subverting its power. Interestingly enough, he also rebuked his dying colleague, pointing out that, yes, he did deserve to die; that, humanly speaking, there was to be no second chance for him; and that this was only right and just. [emphasis mine]

Read the entire article HERE.

Tiger Woods, Buddhism and the need for Redemption

God Saves Sinners

More good stuff from John Ensor in “The Great Work of the Gospel”:

“Both the Pharisees and Jesus use the word “sinner,” but in slightly different ways. The use in either case is jarring to the modern ear, so highly trained are we never to think negatively of ourselves. Hopefully we are past that obstacle by now. Not only are we not offended by it, we are glad to number ourselves among the sinners. It means that Jesus has us in view in the rescuing work that he came to do. When he says he did not come to call the righteous, he means that he did not come to bring the self righteous into the grace and mercy of God. They admit to no wrongdoing that needs the cure of mercy. And when he says that he came to call sinners, he means he came to deliver self-confessing sinners in to the grace of God…

“Jesus is called Savior because ‘he will save his people from their sins’ (Matt 1:21). Jesus is our great Rescuer because he rescues us from the penalty of our sins and from the enslaving power of sin. What a cruel joke it would be for God to forgive sinners and leave them habitually sinning. Blaise Pascal wrote in his famous Pensees, ‘It is unworthy of God to unite himself to wretched man, yet it is not unworthy of God to lift man up out of his wretchedness.’ This is what Jesus does as our Rescuer. Jesus ‘saved us and called us to a holy calling’ (2 Timothy 1:9). To get a true and accurate vision of Christ as our Rescuer, we must see that he rescues us from the heartfelt desire to habitually sin.”

The Mandate to Forgive

As I was re-reading chapter nine in Ensor’s book this morning I was quite convicted. How good and kind are the providences of God!

“Jesus was betrayed by a disciple, falsely accused by those he came to serve, denied justice in the courts, abandoned by his friends, humiliated, beaten, and hammered to the cross and mocked till his dying breath. ‘When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly’ (I Peter 2:23). His pain was fuel for prayer: ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do’ (Luke 23:24). We, too, must pray like this for those who have hurt us. And we must keep on praying. Persistent grudges must be met with persevering prayer until we obtain the grace to forgive.

“In spite of Jesus’ example…we still think our case exceptional. ‘It’s easy for you to talk about forgiveness,’ a man trying to be reconciled to a family member once told me. ‘You don’t understand how badly he hurt me.’ He wanted sympathy, not surgery. He wanted understanding, not prescriptions. But he was on the hook. I did not put him there. I replied that forgiveness only counts when it hurts. We are not called to forgive the holy and righteous. He was not pleased. He squirmed, but the hook did not bend.

“I have enough of my own raw experiences to realize that this is pain talking. Grudges love to be nursed, not nuked. Given enough time and fertilizer, our grudges will grow so big they will wrap themselves around our very personality and cove us like ivy covers a house. Grudges force us to play the role of victims, never victors. Holding on to grudges is like crying out for a life preserver while clinging to the anchor! We have to choose either one or the other. ‘If you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matt. 6:15). Our grip on grudges must be released. Our very life depends on it.”

If you don’t mind, I am going to be a little honest with you. I was angry all day yesterday. I don’t like being gossiped about. I don’t like being misrepresented. Who does? But instead of acknowledging the hurt and taking my pain to the Lord in prayer I swallowed the poison of anger and raged inside (and a little outside). I pitied myself. I played the victim. It is an ugly thing and I felt the filth in my heart. I was nudged and what spilled out of me was not pretty. This is no one’s fault but my own.

God’s great work in the Gospel is transforming. That is, it not only saves us but it transforms us. This doesn’t happen overnight but it does happen. For one thing it turns us more and more in to those who show mercy and forgiveness. When we realize the grand offense that God forgave us it makes the lesser offenses we suffer forgive-able. The Gospel also helps us to see our own sin as a more serious matter than the sins of others. As Gary Thomas has written, “Mature Christians have a double standard. They are hard on themselves when it comes to sin, but gracious and gentle toward others.”

The Great Work Desired

If you do not attend Metro East Baptist I would encourage you to read John Ensor’s book The Great Work of the Gospel with us. If you are reading along I trust that you have made your way to the second chapter.

Our joy in the Gospel is directly proportional to our understanding of sin. In other words, how can we rightly revel in Christ’s redeeming work on the cross if we don’t think our sin was that big of a deal? In this, many contemporary evangelicals have not been well instructed. I have found not a few Christians who do not even know that outside of Christ we were enemies of God (Colossians 1:21). One brother told me not long ago, “I know we’re sinners but we were never God’s enemies.” Sadly, he is not alone in his assessment. People who think our situation outside of Christ was bad but not that bad will never rightly understand the cross. They will never fully appreciate salvation. They are like ones who have been raised from the dead but believe they were only cured of a bad flu. They are thankful to be sure but not enough to reorient their lives around this profound reality.

Ensor writes about as well as anyone on the subject of forgiveness. One of the reasons his writing on this subject is so affecting is because he spends ample time explaining from the Scriptures the tragic reality that necessitated our need for forgiveness. He writes, “So the prerequisite work of God in grace is an examination of guilt. God, the surgeon of our souls, cuts deep into our natural pride to convict us of the reality of our guilt. The desirability of God’s forgiveness can grow only as the deniability of our own sinfulness shrinks.”

But fallen humanity will always resist a full and accurate acknowledgement of sin. We are dodgers and twisters. We take what may be known about God and ourselves and distort the truth according to our own sinful lusts (Rom. 1). Confession of sin has fallen from David’s “For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight…” to “I’m not perfect. I’m only human.”

Ensor writes, “Even when we feel guilty, we do not believe it is because we are guilty.” He places much of the blame, and justifiably so, on humanistic trends in counseling and psychotherapy:
“The solution, many suggest, is to treat guilt as a psychological condition. We look to therapists to sift through our memories until they find the clinker that set off our guilt, so we can remove it. We achieve success when we hear, ‘Really, there is not justifiable reason for you to feel guilty – it’s not your fault.’ Plenty of books will tell us this, as will religious swamis. People spend thousands of dollars to confirm that the origin of their guilt is found in what somebody else did to hurt them” (p. 33).

Don’t misunderstand. There are godly men and women who labor at the art of biblical counseling. These are people who have worked hard at learning how to get under the layers of troubled hearts in order to get them to the wholeness that is discovered in Christ. But every good biblical counselor knows what anyone familiar with the Scriptures knows: that men and women outside of Christ cannot be relieved of their guilty conscience until they come to Christ and taste of His full forgiveness.

Interestingly, I have encountered many professing Christians who struggle with debilitating feelings of guilt and condemnation. Sometimes it is the result of an unhealthy preoccupation with self. Other times there is abuse in the past that left them so scared that feelings of condemnation overwhelm them. But for many others, their source of guilt feelings spring from the fact that they have never truly reckoned with the nature of their sin. They may have “prayed the prayer” when they were a child but they never understood their need for forgiveness. Now as adults they are burdened with a guilty conscience and all that the therapeutically minded church can do is teach them a baptized version of “I’m Okay. You’re Okay.”

These therapeutic approaches are offered in an effort to help. But the person with a guilty conscience will not be helped until him realize that his sin is worse than they can imagine. This seems counter-intuitive, even cruel in an age of “feel good” spirituality. But only after an honest confession of sin which is often preceded by mourning can there be a proper appreciation for the fact that “there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1).

Forgiven!

Worthy thoughts from the venerable 19th century Anglican - J.C. Ryle.


“I find no balm for a sore conscience, and a troubled heart, like the sight of Jesus dying for me on the accursed tree.
There I see that a full payment has been made for all my enormous debts. The curse of that law which I have broken has come down on One who there suffered in my stead. The demands of that law are all satisfied. Payment has been made for me, even to the uttermost farthing. It will not be required twice over.
Ah! I might sometimes imagine I was too bad to be forgiven. My own heart sometimes whispers that I am too wicked to be saved. But I know in my better moments this is all my foolish unbelief. I read an answer to my doubts in the blood shed on Calvary. I feel sure that there is a way to heaven for the very vilest of men, when I look at the cross.”

- J.C. Ryle