It is because we are saved by grace that we sinners are able to confess publicly that we are sinners. It is because we are sinners, however, that we are so quick to get defensive anytime someone accuses us of a specific sin. Why the disconnect? Because being a sinner is a condition, a universal condition, an oddly antiseptic descriptor of humanity. Sinning, however, that requires acknowledging that we have done wrong. And we can’t have that.
Years ago I wrote a brief piece wherein I argued that practicing a particular voting strategy was a sin. A friend replied to my piece with an argument and a judgment. The argument was simple enough- unless I was prepared to quote chapter and verse, to provide a proof-text, I had no business calling said strategy a sin. The judgment was this- that my piece was wrong, uncaring, harsh, judgmental, reprehensible and not so good at all. Happily, he refrained from calling my piece sin, lacking a proof-text and all.
That was when I first learned of our aversion to call sin sin, especially when it is directed at us. Sin is vile, cosmic rebellion, worthy of God’s eternal judgment. But what it’s not is unusual, rare. While we in one sense of course ought to be ashamed of our sins, we ought also to remember that the only way for them to be covered is if we repent of them. And to do that, we have to acknowledge them. Getting our back up when someone points out a sin, I fear, exposes the all too living Pelagian inside of us. We need to put him to death. We need to own our sin.
Some years ago I received a letter, well, a copy of a letter. An old friend had written my then boss to point out her unhappiness at some of my sins, and was honorable enough to send me a copy as well. Truth be told, it stung. A lot. I went through a long list of replies I wanted to give. I wanted to object that her characterization of me was unfair, dated, unbalanced. As the sting remained I begin to wonder over why it hurt so bad. The answer was staring me in the face- it’s because the accusations were true. Specifically she faulted me for a propensity to be flippant and sarcastic. If, to you, that doesn’t sound like me, you must be new here.
The defenses I concocted were true enough- that tone is hard to grasp with mere written words, that she was hearing me through ears that knew me better when I was younger, that sarcasm has its place, that a well spoken prophetic word can be just a subtle but important shade away from flippancy. All true. Just like the accusation. Better to own the sin, confess the sin, to seek forgiveness. After all, the man who defends himself has a fool for a client.
What, after all, are we afraid of? My heavenly Father loves me. He forgives me. His love and forgiveness are immutable. They do not ebb and flow based on my obedience in a given day. Rather they are built upon the Rock of His Son’s perfect life and sacrifice. I can own my sin, because He owned my sin. It must be my reputation with others I’m trying to protect. It must be their approval I fear losing. That sounds like me, a sinner. Better, by His grace, to back down.