My misplaced anguish
I'm in a season of life where songs are constantly stuck in my head, not because I want them to - I blame my young daughters. In 2013, against our will, many of us parents found ourselves humming, "Let it go" for months straight. As of late, it's this tune: "...It calls me... And no one knows... How far it goes..." (Free animal cookie for guessing the movie).
But lately what's stuck in my head hasn't been a cutesie song. It's something more sinister, a little more obnoxious, a lot more... awful.
Over the last few weeks this phrase has been swimming laps in my soul:
Do I hate my sin?
Whoa now. What the crap!? Where did that come from?! Can I have my obnoxious children songs back!?
I have so many issues with this.
First is this word sin. I mean, come on. Nothing sounds more 'WRATH OF GOD" than using the word sin. When I teach my daughters between right and wrong, we call them mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes, right?! But sin? It sounds so shameful. So evil. It sounds sooo... Christian-y.
And while I'm unashamed of my faith, I guess I've avoided certain words because they're not friendly. And I want to think my faith is friendly. But the truth is, there's nothing friendly about sin. Falling short of God's intended way isn't just an ooops. It's a big OH SH*T. (Spelling it that way makes it acceptable, right!?).
Second is the word my. I can certainly focus on my husband's sin, no problem! I can notice your sin, easily. I can make a list of the way our culture fails God. But mine? What sin? I'm not being trite. I've always been a rule follower. I haven't made huge mistakes in my life (there's that word again). But the Bible says 'for all sin and fall short of the glory of God'. Truthfully, even though I know it's there, I haven't always clearly seen my sin.
For example, there's a place in the Bible that talks about God being a shepherd watching a flock of 100 sheep. When he notices one is missing, he leaves the 99 to go search for it - to rescue it. That's how much he cares.
Instead of being encouraged, this story always makes me feel deserted. I have always felt like the faithful 99, which has left me wondering why God would abandon me for someone else - someone lost.
Let's consider that last thought again.
God is leaving me to go save someone who's lost.
This is seriously messed up. In light of this new little resilient mantra of mine, these lyrics we sang in church this morning had new meaning: 'Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God. Oh, it chases me down, fights 'til I'm found, leaves the ninety-nine...'
It hit me... Amy, you're not one of the 99.
You are the lost one.
(Hint: at some point, in various levels, we're all the lost sheep)
Lost? Nah. I'm a rule follower. Obeying feels easy for me. Sure, I'm not perfect. Who is!? (Aren't I so clever in justifying my little unimportant oooops's). But God's Word says he wants us to 'be holy for I am holy.' God is perfect and he hates sin - the stuff that makes us unworthy to be in his presence. And if that sounds mean, reconsider - he hates what separates us - not us personally. On the contrary, he did something completely illogical and dramatic to ransom us back from our sin because of his love. (Starts with the letter J ....)
When I was in high school I used to take hot baths once a day (sometimes two!). This led to lots of reading time and my favorite was the collection of my parent's Reader's Digests. (Oh my word - I just did a quick google search and THEY STILL EXIST!) One day, when I ran out of Reader's Digests, I grabbed a book off my parent's shelf written by Larry Crabb called Finding God. Something he said jarred me, even as a teenager - enough for me to still remember it clearly. He said,
"We are more concerned about comfort from our pain than pardon for our sin."
Dang, there's that word again. But oh, how this is true in my life. Calling out to God to spare me from the my-life-is-over high school breakup, spare me from a dwindling bank account, spare me from a health scare, spare me from ____________. I've spent years anguishing over unmet dreams, disappointment, and suffering.
Never have I sat in anguish over my sin.
To be clear, I'm not talking about sitting in shame over our sin. God inspired Paul to write (in the book of Romans) "There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death." Shame is not from a Creator who says he wants to set us free. Just this last weekend, when I was processing these thoughts with two girlfriends of mine, I asked the question, "What if all Christians became occupied with hating our own sin?"
Would that shift our propensity (and preference) to hate other people's sin?
I appreciated Jennie Allen's answer this week to a question from an audience member who asked what to do when we are in fundamental disagreement with each other over the Bible or social/moral issues.
First, she pointed out that, according to the Bible, Jesus seemed to be the most disgusted with pious self-righteous religious people thinking they were better and knew it all (that whole 'brood of vipers' bit). Well, that should be sobering.
Second, she said she doesn't have time to judge others when she has her own sin to be concerned with.
Even a spiritual giant like her. Jennie hates her sin. And Jesus woo's her with his generous love. So, sin. My sin. Pointing me to the Shepherd who rescues. Because, truth be told, it's not just about realizing I'm lost and a sinner.
It's about realizing I'm found and redeemed by a gracious God.
When I realize how far I've fallen, his love and pursuit of me (the one) is that much more astounding.
Amazing Grace, How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now am found
T'was blind but now I see