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sin

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August 24, 2014 10:06 pm

6 ways in which sins are like bug bites

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by    in Lists

‘Tis summer, the season of mosquitoes and other bugs stinging and biting us. In many ways, bug bites are like sins:

mosquito

Photo: Hardo Müller, reused under CC License

1. They can be debilitating and deadening. For some sins, in particular addictions, this is easier to see (but harder to break out of!); while some menial sins do not seem altogether so bad. But, when we sin, there is that part of us that acts as though it were deaf to God. Dull, and numb.

2. Scratching them can be the worst thing to do. Focusing on our sin and responding to them “naturally”, on our own, is likely to only aggravate them. In a few cases, the sting, or the tick, etc., must be removed first and the venom sucked out. Whilst this can often be achieved without outside help, the correct strategy may not be the intuitive one, and external help is definitely beneficial – especially in places that are harder to reach.

3. They are often easy to hide from view. Yet hiding them does not make them go away. We know they’re here, and far more importantly, they are known to God.

4. Mosquito nets are available, but they are only practical in so many situations. Otherwise, we might trip on them! It is easier, and feels safer to remain sheltered from the world, but that also stops us from being effective in mission.

5. Bug repellent is also available, but in order to be effective, it needs to be put up regularly and properly. Disciplines can help avoid sin, but they have to be applied with due diligence.

6. We don’t actively seek to be bitten, yet it does happen. We, individually, bear no responsibility in the bite. But we react to it, even when this is not intentional; and it is that reaction which causes the actual itching.

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May 4, 2014 9:30 am

10 ways stripping wallpaper is like getting rid of sin

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by    in Lists

If you’ve ever redecorated, you’ll probably have had to go through the tedious experience of removing the garish wallpaper left by the previous tenants or by yourself. In many ways, this is like getting rid of sin:

wallpaper

1. Some of the wallpaper you remove will have been left as an inheritance: not all of it is a result of your own personal poor taste. However, blaming it on the previous owners/tenants will not mean it’s not there: it needs to be removed even if it’s not there through your own fault.

2. In some spots, the old wallpaper may come away very easily in huge strips. Yet in other spots, you need to use the scraper and work at it more. It would be rather pointless to only remove the wallpaper where it comes off easily. There are some obvious habits that are easier to get rid of than others.

3. In those particular spots where the old wallpaper had been too well glued, it comes away little bit by little bit, through repetitive motion. It’s a slow process and it can be tiring and frustrating, especially when you don’t see the results coming in as fast as they did when that huge pane just came off. But while progress is less visible, it is still there and you gotta keep at it.

4. It is greatly helped by the application of water. But simply applying water, with no resolve to then apply the scraper, is rather useless. This application can come in a variety of forms (steamer, sponge…) which are sufficient to the removal of the stubborn wallpaper.

5. It is easier to do with outside help – friends, family, professionals. Yet this does not mean that you should go into other people’s homes and strip their wallpaper without their say-so, no matter how well-meaning you might be!

6. The whole process is made far more enjoyable with an ample supply of tea. (Come on, this is Ed’s Slipper after all). More seriously, though, removing wallpaper does not have to be sad and solemn: friends, music, conversation: all these can help!

7. Getting rid of the old wallpaper shows the wall to be bare and rough and imperfect. It can reveal some deeply hidden secrets, some glorious, some shameful, and some we weren’t even aware of. If the wall had feelings, it probably would feel exposed and vulnerable.

8. This bare state is not an end in itself: it is preparation for the application of new wallpaper – for a new identity. But it is necessary to remove the old – and to remove it thoroughly – before the new can come in and stick. Otherwise it’s no more than a facade!

9. Once the old wallpaper is removed, there is no point in keeping the strippings as though you were going to reapply them! The old wallpaper is gone, once and for all: no point being sentimental about it!

10. It is a process that is easy to put off until “you have time to deal with it”, or until “you have the right equipment”. So enough with spiritual procrastination already!

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December 16, 2012 5:03 pm

9 myths about baptism

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by    in Lists

Baptism is still considered by most denominations to be a very important moment; yet there is relatively little teaching about it in churches and much confusion about it still abounds. Here are 9 myths about baptism

baptism

Photo by ucb, reused under CC license

1. You have to be ready to be baptised.

Why is it a myth? Because we couldn’t get ourselves ready. We couldn’t make ourselves acceptable in the sight of God. The idea that you’d have to be a shining example of good behaviour before being allowed to get baptised, is just wrong.

So, you might tell me, “ah, but you have to know what you’re getting yourself into before you can make the decision”. A bit like knowing whom you’re marrying. And whilst there is some truth in that, the argument can be pushed to the extreme: why not complete a doctorate in theology before making the decision?
Within the Anglican church, a simple set of six questions is asked to candidates for adult baptism. They’re simple enough and they are most definitely sufficient. I would even argue they ask too much, in too theologically loaded phrasing, and that the word “candidate” in that setting is incredibly misused (as if you could fail at baptism!)

We love,  because God loved us first. That love is not conditional upon our actions, our theological knowledge, or any such thing. The same goes for baptism: as soon as we are able to recognise that love and where it comes from, we are as ready for baptism as we’re going to be.

2. Once you’re baptised, you stop sinning.

If only! Baptism is no magic wand. It is not something that turns you instantly from a sinner into a saint. It marks symbolically the start of the sanctification process, the death to the old self and the birth to the new self. But being baptised does not make us perfect. Church remains a hospital for sinners rather than a museum of saints.
Crucially, though, thinking that sin stops after baptism reinforces the (wrong) idea that you have to be ready for baptism: ready to give up sin, and strong enough to do so. But all that is asked is a willingness to do so – to turn to Christ and to realise that we have something better to hold on to.

3. Baptism is, first and foremost, an opportunity for evangelism.

I have heard that one before, and more than once. Some churches encourage this by getting the baptised-to-be to give a testimony of how they came to Christ at the baptismal service. It is true that baptism is a public affirmation of a private change.Yet imagine the same sentence with “baptism” replaced by “marriage”. Or “Christmas”. It would sound weird to treat either of these occasions as primarily opportunities for evangelism. It is true that they are moments when unchurched people may attend a service; and as such they do constitute opportunities for evangelism. But that’s not what they are about.
Just so with baptism. Leaving the God-directed part of baptism, the commitment to God out of it, makes baptism a hollow shell.

4. Baptism is a private affair.

Faith can be seen as a private affair in secular countries. On top of that, baptism is something very intimate, and personal: it can be seen as either the start or a significant stage at least in a very personal journey. Therefore, some could argue, baptism should remain between me and God, and whosoever is baptising me.
If baptism were private, though, it would be a private affirmation of a private change: in other terms, it would simply be a validation of what has already happened. A bit like receiving your degree certificate through the post. Is that validation necessary, though? Considering baptism as something private is both giving the event too much importance, and the process of sanctification too little.

5. If it’s not full immersion, it doesn’t count.

A lot of modern, evangelical churches insist on baptism being full immersion. I find that quite ironic, given the same churches’ reticence to follow set liturgy, but are so deadly intent on doing other things the “proper way”. Yes, βαπτίζω, whence we get the word baptism, does mean “immerse”. And yes, symbolically, full immersion implies the entire person, body and mind; and therefore reflects the fullness of the commitment made to Christ in baptism. And refusing full immersion for the sake of keeping your sinning hand from this commitment denotes a lack of willingness to submit to Christ altogether!
But while full immersion should not be shunned, it should not necessarily be insisted on: the apostles gave specific guidance on baptism, which recognises baptism by affusion as a proper way to proceed, and suggests other parts to baptism which aren’t really adhered to; and – most importantly, what is it supposed to count for?

6. If it’s not said with the proper words or by the right person, it doesn’t count.

This is the opposite end of the low/high-church spectrum. There is an authorised liturgy for baptisms in the Church of England – but this is more for the sake of unity than on theological grounds (I hope!). After all, in all that, the same as above applies: what is it supposed to count for?

7. Baptism is not really important, so it doesn’t matter whether you get baptised or not.

This is a tough one. If baptism is not what you get saved by, why the hell should you get baptised? After all, it’s not like you’re going to stop sinning afterwards…
While you’re at it, why should you take communion? Or worship?

And it is true – some denominations do not practise baptism. But then the question comes up: why did Jesus get baptised? What was the point, other than showing us the way, and marking his acceptance by his Father?

Baptism is a mark of submission, it is a step forward, an important stage in a journey – and a public commitment to which we can be held to account. That, in itself, makes baptism important – without even needing to use scripture as back-up.

8. Baptism is so important that if you don’t get baptised, you’ll rot in hell. Therefore, babies should be baptised.

Again at the opposite end of the spectrum, some denominations hold that baptism is necessary for salvation; and therefore baptise babies just to make sure they will make their way to heaven. Yet grace, not baptism, is what saves us. And that grace is through faith, not through baptism. (And, in any case, those who are saved were predestined… what? :-P )

9. Infant baptism is an abomination/plainly repugnant to the Bible

While infant baptism seems to suggest that salvation is obtained through reception of sacraments, it is not necessarily the theology behind the practice. Baptism denotes more than a one-way process where an individual declares their informed decision to follow Christ. It also marks a welcome into the Christian church; and there is no reason to withhold that welcome from children. How Jesus deals with children goes a long way to show that.

What are your thoughts? How do you see baptism?

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September 23, 2012 7:27 pm

Are you a shoes off church?

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by    in Leadership

The other day, a friend came over to watch a film. As he got in, he saw a shoe rack, and naturally took off his shoes. Our house doesn’t operate a shoes off policy, but seeing all these led him to, naturally, take his shoes off.

Every place has its own set of rules as to what is acceptable or not. And that’s fine – Biblical, even. But if we’re trying to be welcoming to people wherever they are, we have to also let them feel that they can be themselves. That they can, if they wish to, keep their shoes on – within the limitations we have had to put in place for everyone to be able to enjoy church and fellowship. To do that, we need to make sure that we don’t look like a sanitised, sterile place, where mud is to be kept out at all cost.

That means that churches and chaplaincies alike have to be places where people are comfortable with the more personal aspects of sin, and visibly so. And for that to happen, it means that those at the top should show themselves as people who sometimes struggle (without, of course, exalting sin!) and that the congregation should do the same (without, of course, turning the competition for who’s the holiest into a competition for who’s the most sinful!)

That is important in order to be welcoming – in order to offer people a place where they can embark on their own process of sanctification from the place that they are at, rather than having to double their own efforts to catch up with the rest of the congregation in order to come fully into the church. In order for their whole persons, sins, warts and all, to embark on that process of sanctification, rather than leaving that muddy shoe on the doorstep.

It is also important even for someone like me who already feels welcome in the church or the chaplaincy, because if I leave that muddy shoe on the doorstep and then pray for forgiveness, am washed clean, and then go back out the doors of the church, I will put that muddy shoe back on. Only by taking full stock of my own sin can I feel the liberation of redemption. And I can’t do that if I’ve left my sin at the door of the church – whether willingly or not.

But it feels like, although we know we can come with our muddy shoes, and that anyone is welcome to come and worship, regardless of where they’re at – although we know this really well, we are complacent in how we make that known to others. Our first message should not be “You are forgiven”; it should be “Come as you are.” The exhilarating feeling of forgiveness can only come afterwards.

What are you doing to reassure people they can keep their shoes on, regardless of how muddy they are?

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September 9, 2012 9:07 pm

The conundrum of seeking forgiveness

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by    in Bible,Prayer

Forgiveness is at the heart of much Christian practice. Communion liturgy mentions it, as the blood of Christ washes our sin away. Some widespread evangelism strategies give it a prominent place, going something like this*:

  1. We are all sinners and deserve the wrath of God.
  2. Jesus took on our sin on the cross and bore the penalty for our sins.
  3. We therefore stand justified and forgiven in the eyes of God.

The direct link between sin and justification makes it sound easy. It looks as though repentance automatically leads to forgiveness. And in a way, it does – because God’s nature is always to have mercy. But it makes it look silly too. On its own, it’s petty. Arrogant. Why would God want us to say sorry for our sins in order for them to be forgiven?

Photo: Roger Davies, reused under CC License

Behind this question, there is a double misconception: firstly, about the place of forgiveness in Christianity: we cannot think of sin or forgiveness without placing them in the context of God’s incredible love for us – lest we make that forgiveness a mechanical thing. Secondly, a misconception as to what being sorry actually means.

When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.

(Luke 7:37-38 NIV)

Is that the attitude we take when we pray for forgiveness? When I realise my sin, I sometimes say “oops! Sorry God”. The assurance of forgiveness makes me treat the grave matter of forgiveness and repentance very lightly. It is actually very rare for me to have that broken and contrite heart. But where that happens – when I do feel contrite, it feels too big to bring to God. Too big to be forgiven. This is the true conundrum of seeking Jesus’s forgiveness: either the guarantee of forgiveness makes it so I don’t come forward with a contrite spirit, or my contrite spirit stops me from coming forward. This is why the sinner in Luke 7 is weeping. This is why the prodigal son goes back to his father’s as a hired servant. This is why the tax collector cries out in the temple: because they have all grasped the grave matter of their sin, and seek forgiveness without thinking they will get it. The reaction is overwhelming. The relief is great. From that relief, comes the joy of dwelling in Christ and true repentance.

I’m not arguing that we should make a show of being contrite. I don’t think we have to weep to show true anguish or sorrow. I don’t even think we should feel much anguish or sorrow. But we should not trivialise sin by making it commonplace (yes, we all do sin, in word thought or deed, but should we lump all our sin together?). In the same way that God is not a vending machine when it comes to petitionary prayer, He is not a vending machine when it comes to asking for forgiveness. Approach asking for forgiveness with humility and with a contrite heart, but also with the wisdom of the Psalmist who said

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

(Psalm 51:17 ESV)

How do we do that? To be honest, I don’t really know, and would be grateful for any pointers. All I can do is to turn to Jesus (rather than, as I often do, my own mind) as the convictor of my sin, and pray that the Holy Spirit create in me a contrite heart. Not for the sake of being sad – that would be stupid – but for the joy of being truly forgiven.

How do you seek God’s forgiveness?

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* It’s easy to criticise any evangelism strategy; but that is not the point of this post. It would, after all, be too easy if I didn’t offer anything to replace this approach (which I may attempt in a future post). The main purpose of this post is to reflect on forgiveness of sins – and even then, I only scratch the surface. What about our commission to forgive sins? What about sinning against the Holy Spirit? Sin and forgiveness are vast subjects which could (and do) fill up books! If you’ve got some to recommend, please let me know!

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