An Ancient but not Alien Concept
Sin.
The word makes you feel dirty, irritated, or just confused. What is it, this-
-“Sin?”
Without asking questions, many dive in. Some people despise it. Some tiptoe around it. Few, however, try to define it. After all, mere synonyms fail.
But consider, if you will, the utterly pathetic, self-defeating seediness of sin, which reduces the participant to a beggar, picking through yesterday’s trash for breakfast.
Sin.
It’s a little like sleeping in the car, trying to fulfill a legitimate desire—sleep—in the wrong place—the back seat—which leads to a cheap imitation of the real thing. This is seldom refreshing, until we lull ourselves into a bleary stupor, telling ourselves, This is all there is, I’ve got to grab what I can. At this moment, we can hardly imagine the existence of soft-but-firm mattresses and full-length, back-aligning REM sleep. We’ve inoculated ourselves against the real thing to the point that a sweaty, aching, knock-off experience is all we believe can transpire.
But out there, real sleep still exists, despite our circadian rhythms shattering like New Year’s crystal.
Sin, unlike chronic red-eye, carries with it the moral stigma of unnatural existence on the spiritual plane. We sin when we defy the Maker, Author of more than sleep, revoking our created humanity, asserting we know best what it means to be human.
To sin is to be less than human. But we think that less-than-humanness, like skimpy backseat catnaps, are what we want.
And so the soul awakes empty. Dissatisfied. Having eaten but still hungry, having drunk but still dry. Keyed by misused defiance, sin drives to pursue mere shreds of satisfaction, never really satisfied. We relish our supposed indulgences, our growing appetites, little knowing they are constantly growing because they are never filled. Sin is a self-perpetuating cycle, like dozing on an endless bus trip—always thinking the next disjointed nap will be “the ultimate,” when sleep—renewing, cleansing, perspective-restoring—lies outside the ride.
And all the while, we deny the Natural law, the Maker’s design. We depart from our humanity, but it haunts us. We claim that ethics are arbitrary, only to long for them in others. We claim that sleep is unnecessary, only to drift off in a backseat, or one day, at the wheel…
At the moment of crisis, sin becomes visible in all its graphic ugliness. But at that point we’re often too far gone to call it like it is.
5 comments:
That's pretty cool... I like the imagery... Nice.
><> Nate ><>
Sin is a dirty word to too many people. It has such a negative meaning that it is avoided. It's politically incorrect.
I guess when we get to the point where we can call ourselves sinners is when we are convicted of our wrongdoing by God.
But why us? How many people are out there right now intentionally doing wrong? How many men are cheating on their wives or wives cheating on their husbands and they don't care? How many stores are being robbed and the perp doesn't care? How many people are being raped or murdered and the perp doesn't care? Yet if I cross the boundary, I know it instantly. I do care.
When I was in high school, one of my classes took a field trip to a prison, medium security I suppose. We got marked with UV ink so we could get back out. We were listening and asking questions to this guy that was in on drug charges I think. He got ratted out. A student asked him what he would do to the guy when he got out, and he said he'd go after him. I think he said he'd kill him, but it was nearly 20 years ago, so I don't remember for sure. Here's a guy that was in prison for committing a crime, yet when he got out he was determined to commit another one. Why didn't he care?
I suppose we could get into some discussion on Calvinism and reformed theology, but that could probably take up an entire website of its own. Is there a theology student in the house? ;)
>>How many people are being raped or murdered and the perp doesn't care? Yet if I cross the boundary, I know it instantly. I do care.
<<
There are certain disincentives to "believing in" sin. For example, acknowledging my moral nature means I can't cunningly alter my car's angle of trajectory to run MU fans off the road. Neither can I latch onto a relationship and exploit it for my own selfish ends. Murder is no longer a convenient final option. Sin involves curtailing my selfish interests for the sake of what's true and right.
For this reason, many people willingly disregard the pangs of conscience until they build up an immunity, becoming...sin addicts, yes, but also less than human. (See the above post.)
nice blog!
Thought-provoking, deep precepts, and Christ-filled.
Very encouraging.
Mind if I link your blog to mine?
Thanks, rhyanne! A link would be absolutely ok. "Excellent" would be a better word.
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