living with sin

Recently I have been blessed with three guys to whom I can tell anything. I can share my struggles, my failures, my secrets, my desires, my plans... everything. They can help keep me accountable, offer advice, share stories, and together we have a lot better chance at actually doing the things we know we should and being the men we know we should.

It's great, and necessary. Critical even.

But I'm not writing about the need for accountability. That's not what is really standing out to me. What's standing out to me is this: even with accountability--even with people to confess to, people who confess to me, people who accept one another for who we really are--even with all of that, I am still plauged by sin, and the various temptations of it.

Now, I should be careful in that last statement. I don't mean to say that God-inspired, biblical accountability hasn't already helped me to be a better person in the short amount of time that I've had the chance to participate in it, because it really has. And it will continue to do so. And for it I'm unbelievably grateful. God has a much better opportunity to form the image of his Son in me because of it. And he's doing just that.

All I'm trying to say is this: it hasn't been the immediate, once-and-for-all cure to my sin problem. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that I have felt even more tempted in the short time that I've had accountabiltity than in the times previous.

Well, maybe that isn't true. I bet the temptation is about the same. Now, however, I can feel the struggle more acutely, since through accountability the Spirit has a louder voice in my ear than he did before.

All of that to say, through the eyes of accountability--through the renewed desire and power that it has born in me to live righteously--I'm even more aware of the sin all around me. This world is given over to it. Part of me is given over to it still. I am still fallen, as is this world I live in. The stain of sin is permanent, and it is deep.

To which I am forced to conclude: the life I am destined to live will inevitably include sin. It will. We are trapped in it.

So much of our world seeks to overcome our fallenness without really recognizing it for what it is--tragically fallen. We do what we can to stay in shape or lose weight. We do what we can to get ahead financially. We do what we can to shore up our addictions and violence, whether they are private, domestic, or international.

But we are so prone to it. We are drawn to it. We fall back into it. For every step forward, we take two or three steps back.

And then we medicate our consciences about how guilty we feel for taking those steps back. Alcohol, pot, porn, a purchase beyond our means... anything to dull the pain, anything to avoid seeing our lives as they truly are. The cycle doesn't ever seem to end. It's like quicksand that pulls us all in. Perhaps the strong survive longer. But it's really only longer to struggle.

And we can't break the cycle. We can't. We can put disciplines in place to lengthen our physical lives and enrich our spiritual lives. We can form accountability relationships to allow us to live wholistically and enable us to face life's difficulties with the strength of community. We eat and spend more wisely. And we should. But make no mistake: the cycle will not break because of these things.

The cycle breaks because Jesus was broken for us, and because Jesus breaks us, and because we let him, and because we live in our deaths, and because we live in his life.

And because we see all of our character flaws in light of his wounds. And because we see past our own circumstances to see that they are no longer held against us or lorded over us. And because we see that God sees us in our cycle, loves us in our cycle, and promises one day that the cycle will indeed end. And because we see increased power in our lives to live in the cycle--both in terms of us not sinning as much, and being more merciful towards those who sin against us.

To know peace in the midst of sin. To feel secure in the face of failure. To rest in the neverending unbreakable love of God despite never being able to earn it or further it. To know that the pangs of pain in my own soul now serve a purpose--to drive me to me knees and strengthen my grip on the cross of Jesus. To no longer run and hide because of my transgressions, but to put them on display, splattered with the blood of my Savior and brother. To rest in my imperfection while waiting hopefully for my perfection.

We are not destined to be without sin while we live here. We are destined to live with it, and to hate it and laugh at it all at the same time.

Thank you Jesus.