Get off the struggle-bus

My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. --1 John 2:1

Former First Lady Nancy Reagan took a lot of flak for her slogan, "Just Say No".  The cause she had taken up was the use of illegal drugs, especially among young people.  Obviously, her heart was in the right place.  But those who saw addiction first hand criticized her unmercifully, because clearly the problem of drug addiction was bigger than a simple slogan.  Even in the area of prevention, which the slogan was meant to address, the slogan was inadequate, because the pressures among inner-city youth were greater than a white woman in the White House could possibly know.

And yet, in all its simplicity, there was a kernel of truth in those three words.  When confronted with illegal drugs, whether from a friend or from a local drug-pusher, the individual had a choice to make:  either I will use, or I won't.  This choice would define millions, and would divide a whole generation into two camps--users, and non-users.  Some of the users would become addicts, and some would kick the habit when they got older.  But none of the non-users would become addicted.  Not one.  This didn't make them cool, or popular, or better than their peers.  It didn't necessarily make them more successful, because it was merely one in a hundred-thousand choices they would make over a lifetime.

In the Christian world, many of us get caught up in the verse at the top of this post.  It is simple, and direct: do not sin.  John encouraged his followers, and by extension all of us, to make good choices; to decide to do right; to be like Christ.  And when we fail in that endeavor, when we do sin, many times we beat ourselves up.  We get caught in a destructive cycle (common in addiction--face it, we are all "sin addicts") including powerlessness, shame and guilt, distrust, and reenacting sinful patterns in new situations.

Here is a very personal example.  Last month I faced the consequences of a bad financial decision, one that ultimately cost my entire savings to make right.  When I was right in the middle of it, my son asked me a direct question.  "Dad, how do you see yourself?"  Since I was mired in guilt, and despondent about my situation at the time, I answered him with some pretty depressing descriptors: I am a sinner.  I am a dead-beat.  I'll never have any wealth to pass on to my children because I continuously make poor financial decisions.  And my sinful choices affect other areas of my life, not just my house-hold finances--my morals, my character, my identity.  Like the story of the Prodigal Son, I was mired in the pig-pen, ready to feed on the husks that the pigs eat.

For those of you who follow my posts regularly, you have probably noticed that I have not written anything in the last three weeks or so.  I was so caught up in powerlessness, shame, guilt and distrust that I felt useless.  I had a doctor's appointment, and because of my family history, I needed a biopsy.  I can't tell you what a literal pain in the butt that was, but afterward I couldn't help wonder what would happen if I had cancer.  Would I be able to work? Would I be a burden to my family? Would they be better off without me? And after I received the results, when the doctor said it was benign and I was all good, my first response was selfishness.  "Why the heck did I have to go through that procedure if there was nothing to be worried about?"  The next thought I had was more humble, but still I was stuck in despair and despondency.  "Why were my tests all benign, when my brother-in-law (and others I know) is battling cancer?  Why was I spared and he was not?"

God had to hit me with a Clue-By-Four

This morning I got out of bed with a purpose.  I had noticed some things around the house that needed attention, but for the last three weeks I had put off.  Dust bunnies on the ceiling fans.  A leak in the dishwasher.  Today, I told myself, I would not complain about those things.  I would do something about it.  So I rolled up my sleeves and went to work.  After I was done, there was nothing left (that I could see) to complain about.  The house was clean, the dishes were washed, and there was no water in the floor to be tracked through.

I realized there was a corollary with my spiritual life.  I had not read my Bible in three weeks.  I had not spent any time in prayer.  I was beating myself up for an what I saw as a foundational flaw in my spiritual make-up, but it was not my Savior who was accusing me.  It was myself who had taken up the chant of the Accuser, the Father of Lies, the Prince of Darkness.  Satan had successfully driven a wedge between me and the Everlasting Source of Light and Life.  It was clearly time to draw back the curtains and air out some things.  Time to do something about it, rather than curl up in darkness and fear and complain that I am such a bad person.  Time to ask for forgiveness rather than assume God hates me.

You see, we forget that there is more to the verse that began this message.  John didn't say, "My children, do not sin."  He went on to say this:

But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense--Jesus Christ the Righteous One.  He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world. --John 2:1b-2

I would go so far as to amend verse two, to paraphrase it this way: He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for the sins we have already committed in the past, but for the sins we will commit today and tomorrow and forever.

The story of the First Adam and the Fall is telling.  Genesis 2:8-9 says, "Now the Lord God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed.  And the Lord God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground--trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food.  In the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil."  You know the story.  Eve was persuaded by the Serpent to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and she gave it to Adam to eat, as well.  The first couple had a choice to make: either to live forever (by eating from the Tree of Life), or to get a conscience (by eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.)  They made their choice, and the consequences were that fellowship with God was disrupted.  In order to know Evil, we had to experience it, along with the guilt, shame and despair it brings.

All of us know good, and all of us know evil.  Sometimes we choose good over evil, and sometimes we don't.  When we don't, our conscience accuses us, because we know good from evil.  And when the Second Adam came, in the form of Jesus Christ, he again offers us Abundant Life.  If we partake in His body and blood, we can restore the fellowship that was lost.  But we still have the conscience that was born in Eden.  Our conscience accuses us when evil encroaches.  Our only hope is to plead the Blood of Jesus, which covers our sin.  That is why we maintain a fellowship with Him.  When the fellowship is broken, we fall into Stinkin' Thinkin'.