SELF DECEIT


If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us.
(1 John 1: 8 – NAS)


John doesn’t really pull any punches in his letter. He has just praised the nature of fellowship – with each other and with Jesus Christ. He has indicated that a lack of love can keep us from fellowship. He has told us that we need to choose to walk in the Light of Christ.

So we’re thinking, “Yay! I can do this, easy-peasey.”

And then he brings us to this stop by pointing out that if we say we have no sin in us, we’re not telling the truth.

This is not something we want to hear, not something we want to face. At any time.

When we are working diligently to follow the Lord, to genuinely keep to his teachings, we don’t want to think about our small lapses, hidden resentments, suppressed angers. We want to believe that we have “let go” of all those things. But John knows human nature very well, and he knows that we are so often not honest with ourselves.

As followers of Jesus, we try to shape our lives to what He wants us to be as Children of God. So we watch out for the Big Sins: murder, adultery, thieving. We keep an eye on ourselves for signs of sinful inclination: greed, lust, anger. We lecture ourselves on indulging in these things. And we restrain our actions.

But we do not do such a good job on excising them from our hearts.

Anger and resentment are easy things to keep around, treasured in our hearts. Oh, we vow never to act on them, because we do not want to sin. But we savor our angers as if they were fine wines. We cloak them in the fine garb of Righteous Indignation and refuse to acknowledge it as sin. We make a judgment on the actions and intentions of others and feel justified in our disdain and dislike. Because their actions and beliefs are wrong or even sinful, we shun them, despise them, ridicule them, pour vitriol on them – because they are unworthy.

We forget that they also are beloved of God. We treat them as if they have already faced Christ on the Judgment Seat and have been cast off. We ignore the possibility of redemption.

Is this not sin on our part? To deny that redemption is possible, even in those who are (in our eyes) so steeped in sin that we are greatly repelled by them?

Occasionally, as a test of just how willing I am to trust the redemptive power of Jesus, I speculate on What Ifs that can challenge one’s faith. Let us suppose that we know as a certainty that anyone standing within the Gates of Heaven has been redeemed and accepted by the Lord, that such a person has indeed repented of all his or her sins, and has submitted themselves entirely to the sovereignty of God. Now then, suppose we are ourselves approaching the Gates of Heaven and the person standing there to greet us and lead us into the presence of God is the absolute last person we expected to see in Heaven. What is our reaction? Will we trust that God knows what He is doing by letting this person into Heaven?

As an artist, I love to go for bold colors and high contrast. And so I often cast this What If with Hitler as the greeter. Yes, I think it is highly unlikely, since the very act of suicide is a slap at God’s gift of life. But What If...?

As a believer, I am called to trust the Lord entirely. Not my own “wisdom” or “understanding.” I cannot possibly know what goes on deep in the heart of another person. I cannot possibly know what repentance they reach. And because I cannot know these things, what justification do I have for holding on to angers and resentments caused by the actions of another?

Oh, many say, “Their works speak for them! See how they continue to support these ungodly causes! They persist in them! That puts them utterly outside the grace of God, and I need show no mercy to them.”

Oh, really?

BLESSED ARE THE MERCIFUL, FOR THEY SHALL OBTAIN MERCY.

BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS, FOR THEY SHALL BE CALLED THE SONS OF GOD.

If we do not believe in the ultimate redemptive power of Jesus Christ, what will happen to us if we come face to face with the Least Likely Person at the Gates of Heaven?

I have long since stopped holding to the pretty story idea that we are met at the Gates of Heaven by Saint Peter. Yes, he was given the Keys to Heaven, but Jesus never said he had to do Greeter duty. It is a challenge to myself to imagine the redemption of the least likely person I know in my own life.

That, at least, keeps me from deceiving myself about God’s love for others, even those I consider unlikely.

But that is just one sin. What about others?

As a storyteller, I have to create evil characters. It is an honest reflection of the world around us, that some people choose to do evil because they get a pleasure out of it. Not because they were misunderstood or abused or injured in some way along their life-path (though those things may have indeed happened). No, some people deliberately, knowingly, choose actions they know are destructive to others. And so I write such characters from time to time.

As a creator, I have to love “my creatures” in order to give them life. Even though I know their choices, and their fates, and the dire things that will come from them, I love them as creations. But I take no pleasure in their actions.

But there are some types of storytelling, very popular these days, where the storytellers invite the audience to identify with evil characters. The audience is drawn into enjoying the cleverness of a character’s cruelty, of reveling in the satisfaction of unfettered violence, without concern for the life or feelings of the victim. And I have heard people justify this type of storytelling as “Showing us the mess of this person’s life.”

What, I have to ask, is the audience member really enjoying in this type of story?

The truth is, the enjoyment is the pleasure of sinning. The audience member can excuse him or herself by saying, “*I* would not choose to do these things!” But by returning to it, time after time, the audience member acquiesces to the cruelty and evil.

We allow little indulgences into our lives, and pretend that because they are entertainments they do not affect us. But it does make us more tolerant of sin, not just in others but in ourselves.

We resented the service we get in a restaurant, so we feel justified in being curt with the waiter. “This is what you gave me, so this is what you’re getting back!” How is THIS what Jesus taught us? Didn’t Jesus say, “Do onto others as you would have them do onto you”? He didn’t say, “Give as you get.”

We were slighted by a friend, and though we do not know why, we harbor the hurt and nurse it along with vinegar in the wound. We extend less love and care to that friend because we feel we had been injured in some way. Where does mercy lie in this?

These are little things we do every single day, even while we are endeavoring to follow Christ.

John is quite right when he says that if we say we have no sin in us we are lying and deceiving ourselves.

It requires daily examination of our souls. It is a constant weeding process to keep the garden of our spirit free of the weeds of sin. And just because we seem to have gotten all the weeds yesterday, we still have to check the planting beds and look for the wayward shoots of new, young weeds sprouting up.

But the reward for all this work is fellowship with Christ. Surely that is worth the pain of some self-honesty and weeding?