See No Evil, Speak No Evil, Hear No Evil

See no evil. Speak no evil. Hear no evil. Wouldn't it be a great world if this worked? All evil banned from our senses No evil in; no evil out.

But it doesn't work. Not even for a little while. We live in an evil world and an evil world lives in us. Evil can't be ignored or hushed like a irritating fly or a screeching sound.

Evil has a life of its own.

Christians and non-Christians alike struggle with evil. We call it sin. The difference between a believer and a non-believer is not that the former no longer sins, but how we each deal with sin. The non-believer may either deny or accept the existence of personal sin. Either way sin is given more power. The non-believing-sinner may deny personal guilt or sink under the weight of personal guilt and despair. In each case, sin reigns.

The believing-sinner has a Savior who delivers him from sin--past, present, and future. The believing-sinner who confesses and repents finds mercy and grace to restore his soiled soul. The believing-sinner finds strength from the Holy Spirit to move God-ward and break free from the tyranny of evil. The believing-sinner no longer punishes himself but receives full pardon from the One who took his punishment for him.

"If we say we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and refusing to accept the truth. But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from every wrong" (I John 1:8-9).

Shortcuts to Holiness

The Church--the family of God, not the building, not the institution--is a Holy Spirit-formed community where God is worshiped, his word is taught, the meal of salvation is shared, relationships are formed, sins are forgiven, mercy is received, and the lives of men and women are shaped into the image of Christ.

But it doesn't take long for those of us who are a part of this community to realize that our Christ-life isn't a finished life but a life in progress. We're slow learners. We hang on to selfish sins. We're unwilling to grow up. We slip back into old habits of disobedience as we look for shortcuts to holiness.

We do this behind masks portraying acceptable levels of spirituality. We keep our hands on the steering wheel of life while trying to manipulate God to bless us. If we dare take a close look at ourselves we see that most of the defects, disorders, and sins rampant in our congregation are the same defects, disorders, and sins running wild in our society. There is little or no discernible difference.

That's why corporate confession of sin should be standard practice when the Christ-Family gathers to worship. "Almighty and merciful Father: We have erred, and stayed from your ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have offended against your holy laws. We have left undone the things that we ought to have done. And we have done those things which we ought not to have done. And there is no health in us. But you, O Lord, have mercy upon us miserable offenders. Spare you those, O God, who confess their faults. Restore you those who are penitent, according to you promise declared unto mankind in Christ Jesus our Lord. And grant, O most merciful Father, for his sake, that we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life. To the glory of your Holy Name. Amen." (Book of Common Prayer of the Episcopal Church).

"Miserable offenders"--yes, indeed! Confession keeps me honest with myself, others, and with God. Confession cleans the slate, restores me to fellowship with Papa-God, and keeps me from the presumptuous sin of self righteousness.

Confess.

Confess often.

There are no shortcuts to holiness.

I'm Sorry

Hardly a day goes by before the dirty laundry of a celebrity, politician, CEO, or star is aired. Sooner or later the truth comes out. From Hollywood to the governor's mansion to Wall Street to the church pulpit to the White House the soiled sheets of immorality headline the evening news. No one is exempt.

When the powerful are caught with their pants down it gives us a sense of moral superiority. We're ready to stone them. In public forums and private conversations we dissect their confessions. "I'm sorry. I let people down, especially my family, friends, those who had trust in me. and my supporters." We listen. We watch their body-language. We decide if their confession has merit. "It sounds contrived to me." "He's trying to save his job." "She's working the crowd." "Good PR, but a lame confession."

Soft on our own sins, we quickly condemn the offender who just got caught. Hiding our dirt, we eagerly join the parade to point out the dirt of others. Jesus asked a self-revealing question, "Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and fail to notice the plank in your own eye?" (Matthew 7).

Why?

The One who asked the question answered it--"You hypocrite!"

Not the answer we wanted to hear.

We're first class hypocrites! We pounce on sordid tidbits from "tell-all" magazines and "behind-the-scenes" reality shows like starved hyenas chasing crippled rabbits. "Inquiring minds want to know." Their moral failures make us feel better about ourselves. "I wouldn't be caught dead doing that!" "How can anyone sink so low!" "Degenerate!" "They ought to be shot, hung, then electrocuted."

What's the remedy? "Take the plank out of your own eye first, then you can see clearly enough to remove your brother's speck of dust."

Deal with your own dirt. Own your own filth. Humble yourself before God. Echo David's prayer: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Psalm 139).

When You Find Yourself in Quicksand

Despair is not always obvious. It often goes unnoticed. We've learned to hide our frightening feelings of despair. We, especially Christians, put on a flawless performance in our day-to-day life. After all, no matter how low we're feeling on the inside, the play must go on.

So, to most people we appear just what a Christian ought to be -- emotionally stable -- clam, happy, optimistic, in control. For our performance we're praised and welcome as one of the blessed ones.

To despair is to lose hope. To lose hope is to lose touch with God. To lose touch with God sends us back to despair. We're caught in a self-defeating cycle, a downward spiral, a free fall into the dark night of the soul.

"I sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold. I have come into deep waters; the floods engulf me. I am worn out calling for help; my throat is parched. My eyes fail, looking for my God" (Psalm 69:2-3).

I sink into despair when I recognize no power greater than the power of my problem. Everything is dark and frighteningly fluid. Nothing is solid. Nothing eternal. My sickness, pain, prognosis, failure, bankruptcy, loss, grief, death, upside down or broken world becomes my master. Despair rules my soul.

Like others before me, I cry out for help. "Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me." I beg for relief. "Get me out of this miss." "Scatter the dark clouds." "Restore my sanity."

If I'm patient enough to be quiet and listen, Papa-God answers me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9). That's where I lost it. I lost touch with the God of grace and the grace of God. That's why I lost it. I looked for a way out, not a way through. I wanted a short cut. God offers me his strength to endure.

I'm no match for despair. But God is. He does what I can't do. He graces me with his peace; he enables me with his power; he gives me a place to stand even with "quicksand under me and swamp water over me," even when I'm going down for the third time.

"I'm hurt and in pain; give me space for healing and mountain air. Let me shout God's name with a praising song, let me tell his greatness in a prayer of thanks" (Psalm 69:29-30, The Message).

He Weeps As He Whips

Real men cry. Jesus is no exception.

"As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, 'If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace -- but now it is hidden from your eyes. The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. They will dash you to the ground, you and your children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God's coming to you" (Luke 19:41-44).

Deep emotions. Strong words. Broken heart. Blind eyes. Ghastly judgment.

Are his tears for Jerusalem only? I doubt it. Jerusalem was his primary heartbreak, but others have followed. We must be one of them. Like the Jews in Jerusalem, we reject the Prince of God's Peace and ignore God's presence among us. We're no less guilty than the first century Jews.

How then will God respond to our rude indifference? Will Papa-God bless or discipline us? Are we his golden children or his rebellious children? Can we expect the oil of blessing or the rod of discipline?

He weeps as he whips.

My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you. Because the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son" (Hebrews 12:5-6).

We ask for God's discipline the moment we take control and shut him out of our lives, our churches, our business, our families, our friendships, our goals, our finances, our dreams and desires. When life -- everyday life, spiritual life, church life, work life, recreational life, social life -- becomes more form than content, more ritual than relationship, more mechanics than spirit, more surface than substance, we invite the rod of God's discipline.

He weeps as he whips, but he whips nevertheless.

The Nature of Sin

"It is so heartbreaking that Christ, who is the teacher of love, is betrayed with a kiss. Such is is the nature of sin." -- Soren Kierkegaard

Sin isn't always ugly or painful or brutal. Sin can be sensitive, warm, inviting, gracious -- the right thing to do -- the accepted thing to do -- a kiss of welcome -- a kiss of brotherhood --a kiss of friendship.

Sin is most sinful when it conceals itself behind beauty, masks itself behind love, or camouflages itself with friendship. The sin of betrayal is one of the greatest sins we commit against God and each other. Compassion is degraded by betrayal.

Betrayal shatters trust, spoils friendships, destroys marriages, families, and churches. Betrayal spoils everything it touches.

Trust is not a given; it has to be earned. Once earned, trust is the glue that holds relationships together until we are stabbed in the back by the same hand that hugged us, lied about by the same voice that encouraged us, or thrown out like yesterday's newspaper by the same person that endorsed us.

Betrayal crushes trust like a steamroller over a caterpillar.

"Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them, 'The one I kiss is the man, arrest him.' Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, 'Greetings, Rabbi!' and kissed him. ... Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him." (Matthew 26:48-49,50)

Such is the nature of sin.

Our Personal War

Imagine a group of friends standing around talking with each other. The conversation is lively, light, and loud. Everyone in the group wants to have their say.

Then a stranger enters the group. Judging by the intense conversation of the group, the stranger concludes that the topic of their conversation is important. With eager anticipation to be a part of such conservation, the stranger asks the group what they're talking about.

But the group becomes annoyed with the stranger because his innocent question revealed that their conversation was about nothing significant at all. Shooting the breeze. Nothing more.

This is not unlike the reaction that happens when God's kids query the world's conversation with the hope of becoming participants. The strangers to God become annoyed. The intruder unmasks the insignificance of their conversation. No one likes to be showed up. The intruder is unwelcome.

The real annoyance isn't with the stranger or the intruder but with God himself. We seldom talk about it or admit it, but we are at war with God. Our ultimate conflict is not with one another, not even with our different political, religious, philosophical, and world views. Our ultimate conflict is with God.

We take God too lightly. To borrow Bonhoeffer's term, we're addicted to cheap grace. We get worked up over things that don't matter and ignore the weightier things that ultimately matter. We trouble ourselves with issues we can't fix and ignore the issues we can fix. We keep God at arms length.

We take sin too lightly. Repentance means "My bad." "We all make mistakes." "No one is perfect." The Old Testament root for repentance means "to breathe with difficulty," signifying sighing, groaning, moaning, grieving over our personal sin.

Little wonder Jesus cut the conversation about political unrest short with these unwelcome words: "But unless you repent, you too will all perish" (Luke 13:3).

Paul wrote, "Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation" (2 Corinthians 7:10). David cried out for forgiveness: "Have mercy, O God, according to your unfailing love" (Psalm 51:1).

Our personal war with God stops and peace is restored when we repent. 1. We own our personal sin. 2. We grieve over it's filth. 3. We appeal for mercy and forgiveness.

Only when we "produce fruit in keeping with repentance" will our war with God cease and our hearts and minds come under the rule of Jesus, the Prince of Peace.