Sinner- n. One who sins.

I have noticed in recent years a great upsurge in objections to the objective truth of what we are. Any time I speak of the believer as a sinner, let alone a miserable sinner, I can always count on someone to come along behind and chasten me for forgetting how God sees us. They will, happily, often do so by reminding me of the great truths of the gospel. But one thing the gospel doesn’t do is make our sin disappear on this side of the veil. It doesn’t make us incapable of committing this sin or that (with the exception of blaspheming the Holy Spirit). If we define “sinner” simply as “one who sins” then it doesn’t cause us to cease being sinners. And it certainly doesn’t mean that we are removed from our calling to recognize and give thanks for His mercy.

When we get ahead of ourselves, when we start to think not that we are deemed fine fellows by our Maker due to the life and death of His Son for us, but think instead that we are fine fellows in ourselves, we lose sight of the marvel of mercy. We forget not only to give thanks for the redemption of our souls, but for the preservation of our bodies. We forget not only to give thanks for the goodness in our lives in all the things that give us pleasure, but for the goodness in our lives in all the things that give us pain. In short, when we miss the sin, we miss the mercy. When we forget what we are due, we forget all that we have been given.

We forget we are sinners, we forget to give thanks for His mercy, precisely because we are still sinners. We preach this truth not to weigh us down, but that we would look up. Jesus told us that the man who beat his breast, crying, “Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner” went to his home justified (Luke 18:13). He went home then joyful, thankful. He did not, however, from that moment forward never again beat his breast. He did not, from that moment forward, never again cry out to God, “Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner.” But each time he returned to pray, he prayed the same prayer, and went home with the same joy. If we would remember the joy of our salvation, we must needs remember the sorrow of our damnation.

Our lives are faithful liturgies by which we remember the joy of our thanksgiving. We remember to remember our condition before we are redeemed. We remember to remember our condition after we are redeemed. We remember to enter into the graces He continues to show us, remembering that His mercies are new each day (Lamentations 3:22). We remember to hope in the promises of future grace, remembering that one day we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is (I John 1:3). And all along the way we give thanks, that He did not destroy us, but died for us when we were yet sinners (Romans 5:8), that He will never leave us not forsake us as we walk to the Celestial City (Deuteronomy 31:6), that He who began a good work in us will carry it through to the day of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:6).