Answer Magazine

Our Favorite Sins

We're not really hurting anybody. Right?
For example, why is intoxication the only sin that results in slurred speech? Shouldn't something like that happen to people who gossip? And why should gluttony be the only sin that adds inches to your waistline? Shouldn't that happen every time I spout some prideful comment? Why should only the ego inflate?

If I had to loosen my belt after boasting, I'd probably learn to hold my tongue around people I want to impress. I'm not trying to tell God how to do His job, but wouldn't it help us be more careful to avoid certain sins if immediate, obvious consequences came with them?

Unlike Pinocchio, our noses don't grow longer when we lie. For some reason God chooses not to deter us from many sins by using an array of visible humiliations. As a result, our concept of sin mistakenly falls into two categories: consequential sin and inconsequential sin.

Consequential sins are those that clearly hurt people, violate normal standards, or break major laws and result in embarrassment, public shame, or life-altering punishment. Consequential sins are the ones we commit only if we had no fear of ever getting caught. They're the ones we could never imagine ourselves committing, like murder, robbery, or adultery. Whether due to their heinous nature or humiliating consequences, these "bad" sins are easily recognizable and extremely avoidable.

Inconsequential sins, by contrast, appear benign, like eating too many chocolate chip cookies. We know that some day the effects might catch up to us, but we can always stop then and do a "better job" of self-control.

Because inconsequential sins have no immediate, detectable negative effects, they often hold a delicious attraction. Gossip, exaggeration, and sarcastic putdowns - all bitter sins according to God's palate - can taste exceedingly sweet when rolling off our tongues.

Picture this scene. A family is gathered around the Thanksgiving table, when someone brings up the fact of the "missing" family member.

"Too bad Clarisse couldn’t be here this year. I miss her."
"Me too," others chime in.
Now that the subject is on the table, it's open season on Clarisse.
"If only she didn't have to work over the holidays."
"Well, that's what happens when you're in a new job..."
"What's her problem with holding a job, I wonder."
"You gotta’ guess? That's been her track record all her life. She flits from one thing to another."
"Well, I just think it all started when she got mixed up with that Chad fellow. Maybe she's always been a little unstable, but at least she was a Christian. Now what is she this month?"
"Who knows. I can’t keep track."
"Sounds to me like she's into Scientology or something these days."

Finally Mom puts an end to the "conversation" that ironically drew the family closer by saying, with a subtle tone of disapproval, "Well, I know Clarisse would be here if she could. ... There's plenty here for seconds, but make sure you save room for dessert."

Does that scene look familiar? Ahh, the delectable taste of disapproving. Hardly seems like a sin just occurred. No one felt guilty. No one said anything embarrassing. No one got hurt. Right? Inconsequential, right?

Actually, sin was committed and damage was done - severe damage, as we will see later. But first, let's look at what the Bible teaches about the consequences of sin.

The distinction between consequential and inconsequential sins is a false one. A sin is consequential, whether those consequences are immediately detectable or not. In short, no sin is safe. God may impose some consequences as punishment in direct response to a particular sin or set of sins. A quick biblical survey of some famous capital sins may shock us with the fact that there is no such thing as a safe sin.

Adam and Eve disobeyed God and ate forbidden fruit. The result: spiritual death - not only theirs but every single one of their descendants!

The Israelites, miraculously liberated from Egyptian bondage, complained about their diet and temporary nomadic conditions. The result: God gave them a feast of quail infested with a deadly plague. Thousands died.

Even with the fresh memory of the stale quail, the Israelites grumbled against the goodness of God and His provision of food and protection. The result: Venomous snakes brought the sting of death to thousands more.

Am I stacking the deck by using Old Testament episodes? Want me to jump ahead to the "kinder" God of the New Testament? Let's listen to Jesus. He's the one who said, "If anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea" (Matt. 18:5-6).

Jesus taught about a servant whose huge debt got cancelled by his master, but who showed no mercy to a fellow servant who owed him pocket change. Jesus' moral of the story? "In anger his master turned him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed. This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart" (Matt. 18:34-35).

Perhaps you're thinking, But these are just words of warning. These aren't like the Old Testament examples where people actually died.

Okay. Remember Ananias and Sapphira? They were members of the first church in Jerusalem, one marked by generous benevolence for the needy. One day this couple pretended to be more righteous than they really were by faking generosity The result: immediate death. No opportunity for defense or appeal (Acts 5:5, 10).

Finally, there was a period when a number of people in the church in Corinth were sick and dying. The apostle Paul explained it this way: For anyone who eats and drinks without recognizing the body of the Lord eats and drinks judgment on himself That is why many among you are weak and sick, and a number of you have fallen asleep [died]" (I Corinthians 11:29-30).

Let's review this short list of capital sins: eating a forbidden fruit; complaining about living conditions; misguiding the young; failing to forgive a fellow human; pretending to be better than you are; taking communion casually.

Compare these sins to ones we consider heinous, like murder or adultery. Clearly, from God's perspective, sin is not organized into categories labelled "greater" and "lesser" or "consequential" and "inconsequential." No sin is safe.

But why should hypocrisy or complaining be considered on a par with murder or sexual immorality?
To appreciate the danger of sin, we need to get much clearer about its nature.

In the Hebrew of the Old Testament, more than 25 different words exist for sin. Yet with all those words for it, rarely does the Bible give a simple, direct answer to the question, "What is sin?" So when it does, we should perk up our ears. One such definition appears in James 4:17: "anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins."

What's surprising about this verse is the preceding context. It's not about adultery, promiscuity, or murder. It's about stating future plans without due regard for God's will:

"Now listen, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.' Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, 'If it is the Lord's will, we will live or do this or that.' As it is, you boast and brag. All such boasting is evil. Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins" (13-17).

Why would the Holy Spirit inspire James to pen a rare definition of sin in a context about making future plans rather than one about sexual immorality or stealing?

To understand why, we must remember that sin is not just an act. If it were, there might be some justification for ranking sins according to degrees of evil. Rather, sin is the failure to make choices with reference and deference to God as the rightful master of your life.

This is precisely the problem James was pointing out. "How can you make any plans for the future without acknowledging that everything you do, everything you have, everything you hope for must be placed under the sovereign will of God?" When we don't live life that way, we shun our most vital relationship. It is a relationship of total dependence.

The ability to think rightly depends on being in a right relationship with God. Our physical health depends on God. Our sense of self, significance, and even our emotional stability depend on being in a right relationship with God.

This fact captured the apostle Paul, and it came out often when he taught. To the philosophical Athenians he affirmed that "in Him we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28). To the Corinthians he scolded, "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit?" (1 Corinthians 6:19). To the Ephesians and other churches in Asia Minor he circulated the sobering lesson that hearts hardened against God result in darkened understanding, rampant lust, and separation "from the life of God" (Eph. 4:18-19).

Here, then, is the ultimate danger of sin. It results in separation from God, who is our only source of life and of everything we need.

Let's go all the way back to humanity's first sin. Built into God's first prohibition was a warning: "You must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die" (Gen. 2:17).

When Eve and Adam disobeyed God and ate the forbidden fruit, God did not search the law library of heaven to find a fitting discipline. The consequence of death was built into the crime. By failing to live in reference and deference to God's will, Adam and Eve's relationship with the Source of life was severed. Death - spiritual and later physical - was the automatic result.

All sin shows similar disregard for God. And to disregard your only Source of life means "you will surely die." The consequences of sins believers mistakenly deem minor are inevitable and ultimately deadly to our fellowship with God and others.

Remember our Thanksgiving Day family? They were drawn together by their mutual roasting of absent Clarisse. Unfortunately, they were burning up family security to build the fire. And in the process they were reinforcing one unsettling lesson: absence will create an occasion for fault-finding. If my family ridicules Clarisse in her absence, I wonder what they say about me when I'm not around? The sense of family dies when the foundation of acceptance is destroyed.

A similar death of acceptance and security can occur in the family of God when people indulge in criticism and gossip.

WARNING SIGNALS

At the risk of sounding like a dentist recommending a root canal, the connection between sin and death is actually good news. Really. The apostle Paul taught that sin can be recognized as sin, precisely because spiritual death is produced in us (Rom. 7:13).

Whenever my conscience begins to grow cold, I know sin must be present. For example, when my convictions about viewing movies weaken so that I regularly violate God's command to think only about things that are lovely and pure, my mental and verbal responses in times of pressure are much more prone to impurity. This is a clear signal for me to repent and restore my commitment to holiness.
Whenever my relationships begin to decompose, I know sin must be present. Sometimes co-workers can be frustrating. My natural tendency is to shun those who displease me. This is sin, and it will result in the demise of that relationship unless I repent and refuse my inclination to bear a grudge.

When "peace like a river" does not flow in my heart, something must be separating me from fellowship with the Peacegiver. Usually this happens when I violate His command not to be anxious about anything, and, instead of seeking God's kingdom and righteousness first, I feverishly focus on finding security in finances.

But whenever we perceive these signs of sin, like insensitivity, unforgiveness, or anxiety, we don't have to just grit our teeth and try to do better. God loves us so much that He provided a way for us to remain connected to Him even when we sin. Through faith in Jesus Christ and His righteous death on the cross, we are brought into inseparable life-giving connection with God who credits righteousness to us. As we confess our sins, He faithfully forgives and cleanses us, and preserves our life.
But wait —the news gets better. God provides a way for any believer to grow toward Christlike obedience through the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit.

In effect our faith must be twofold: we must trust God to credit righteousness to us through faith in Jesus Christ and create righteousness in us through the power of the Holy Spirit, who transforms us into the likeness of Jesus.

But don't let the good news lower your guard. No sin is safe. Sin always is divisive. Death of some sort always ensues.

So why doesn't God deter us from sin by using an array of visible humiliations? Maybe because the consequences of our choices are all too apparent to anyone humble enough to notice the early onset of death and coldness in relationships.

What we really need help seeing is the evidence that we—in trusting Jesus and choosing obedience—are actually becoming like Him by degrees. So God doesn't make our noses grow longer every time we lie. Rather, I think, He enjoys making our hearts grow larger every time we love.

Doug Newton, the executive director of Free Methodist communications, is editor of Light and Life magazine and an ordained minister.

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