Sin and Love
We’re losing the word “sin.” And along with it, we’re losing something of the meaning of love.
What is sin? We can’t define sin as breaking the “rules” any more, because in America we admire rule-breakers. We’re the people who make the rules, who toss out the old ones when they don’t suit us any more. We’re too big for rules! Rules are for conformists, for sheep, for people who can’t think big enough to make their own way in the world. So just breaking a rule, in and of itself, isn’t wrong any more. It depends on the rule, and on the consequences of breaking it.
Some rule-breaking gets to be called a “crime,” which does a nice job of objectifying the action. After all, we learn in history that many things that were once called crimes, are now (in our tolerant society) no longer considered criminal. (This is progress.) So “crime” might just be breaking some (arbitrary) rule of our culture; I might refrain from doing it because I’ll get punished for it (if I get caught).
Let’s be fair. Some crimes still carry weight: those that hurt someone else, especially someone who is vulnerable, like children or animals. We feel that this sort of crime is wrong. We shouldn’t do that sort of thing. Why not? Because in order for our society to work, we all have to “get along” and that means not doing to others what you’d prefer they didn’t do to you.
But this sort of crime, the crime of deliberately doing something horrible to another person… that is the kind of thing that other people do. Those deviants we read about in the newspaper or see on the news. Not us. Them. We are not like them.
As for us – well, we might make mistakes once in a while, but doesn’t everyone? And anyway, if what I do doesn’t hurt another person… and it doesn’t get me in trouble… and it doesn’t immediately have a negative effect on me, personally… what’s the big deal? I do things my way, and you do things your way, and we’re both cool with it. When it comes to responding to mistakes, we resort to two of the most morally neutral phrases in our language: “Oops, sorry” and “Oh well.”
Mistake, lapse of judgment, alternative choice. This is about as tough as we get in modern culture when it comes to facing up to doing something wrong… and for good reason. All these ways of framing “I did something wrong” enable us to continue to sidestep responsibility for what we do.
Admitting the word “sin” changes things. The Hebrew for “to sin” is the same as “to miss the mark.” Recognizing sin means recognizing that there is a mark that we ought to aim for – and that we miss. It means admitting that I need to change myself, to become better. This admission is a direct challenge to our culture of self-love, whose rallying cry is “Love yourself just the way you are.”
Like so many postmodern ideas, “love yourself just the way you are” is halfway true. Or rather, it’s a truth that’s been flattened out.
When we love someone or something, we do love it as it is… but we also want the best for it. Let’s say you love antique furniture. You go into a dark, dusty shop and find a beautiful oak desk tucked away in the corner. It’s covered in dirt and grime, and has been partly repainted an ugly yellow, and it has a couple of handles missing. Even so, you can see that it’s beautiful – in tough shape, but beautiful. You buy it and take it home. Do you love it as it is? Yes, definitely – that’s what moved you to buy it, take all the trouble of getting it in the back of your car, finding just the right spot for it in your house.
But are you going to leave it that way? Do you really love it “just” the way it is, with its mouse droppings in the corners of the drawers, and cobwebs around the edges? No – you’ll clean it up. Do you love it now? Yes, of course. But are you going to leave it with that awful yellow paint? No, you’ll strip off the old paint and refinish it. Are you going to leave it with missing handles? No, you’ll buy some new handles, maybe replace the whole set so that it matches.
In the end, the desk will have gone through quite a lot of re-finishing, a lot of time and trouble. From the desk’s point of view, it might have been an alarming experience. (Whoa, paint stripper? But that yellow paint had gotten so comfortable and broken-in! Hey, whaddaya think you’re doing with that screwdriver?!?)
But you did the refinishing because you saw that it was not what it could be and indeed should be – because you had an image of what it really was and loved it enough to want to get it there. People understand this. It’s why we call it a “labor of love” when people remodel old houses, or put in hours of labor transforming a weedy garden into a place of blooming flowers, or run bake sales to buy books and toys for their children’s classrooms. Love sees what the beloved is… and wants to help it be more than it is.
Yes, we should feel that we are worthwhile and precious just as we are – just as that oak desk was valuable even tucked away in the corner, covered in cobwebs. But we should also respect ourselves enough to recognize that we are not all that we could be or ought to be.
We should understand that we are broken people, broken by sin; and that we are blessed above all imagining that our Lord loves us so much that He won’t let us stay that way.
Related posts:
- The Spiritual Disciplines: The Wings of Prayer
- Book Review: Can’t Buy My Love
- Why Is Atheism Attractive?
- Book Review: Sex God
- Bach at 30,000 Feet: Does Accessibility Diminish the Value of Art?
One Response to “Sin and Love”
Dr Holly Ordway came to Christ through reason, in the pursuit of truth. "In your hearts honor Christ as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect" (1 Peter 15).
She writes about her journey from atheism to orthodox Christian faith in her book "Not God's Type: A Rational Academic Finds a Radical Faith" (Moody Publishers).
Good stuff, Holly. Keep it goin’!