Preached · March 10, 2013
Series · Rhythms of Grace
Text · 1 John 1 1; 1 John 1.5-7
Introduction
We're in part two of a three-part series called Rhythms of Grace. Last week I told you that this title wouldn't make sense until this week. I may have made a mistake. You won't find out what the title means until two weeks from now. I'm sorry. If you're smart, you might be beginning to put the pieces together. But if you're not that smart, that's okay — I'll tell you in two weeks. It's the kind of thing that has to come together all at once, as a culmination. So, a two-week delay. Hopefully you're okay with that. Just dig the title until then.
We're in part two, which is the Fellowship of the Spirit, and we're in the book of 1 John, chapter one. So let's read this. John, writing to his churches in the area of Ephesus — what we'd call modern-day Turkey — writes this:
The Text: 1 John 1:5-7
This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light, and in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in darkness, we lie and we do not live out the truth. But if we walk in the light as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.
This is the passage that we are digging into through the month of March.
Review from Last Week
To review from last week, we talked about some misconceptions. The most talked-about part of last week's sermon was, unfortunately, this: that was a mistake. Just to give you some clarification — no, you really don't swallow spiders in your sleep. He was joking. There was some honest-to-goodness fear that I heard from some people who were really concerned, so let me put those fears aside. Visitors or people who missed last week's sermon, you're really confused right now. That's okay, ignore that.
So we talked about that misconception, and we talked about some more serious ones as well: the two major ones about God — that God is out to get you, this false God over here, or that God is out just to make you happy. Our misconception is that God is out to get us; the reality is that God desires justice. Our misconception is that God wants us to be merely happy; the reality is that God wants us to be holy.
Then we talked about Exodus 34, and our God versus our not-gods. Last week we concluded our service by reading the left side together. Let's read it together again. The God who shows up in Exodus 34 — our God, Yahweh — is compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love, faithful; he maintains love, forgives wickedness, and punishes the guilty. This is our God. He is compassionate. He doesn't turn a blind eye, but he is forgiving.
We talked about this truth: there was never a moment when God started loving you, because there was never a moment when God didn't already love you. This is deep but good stuff.
The Power of Self-Deception
Now, I'm going to confess that I have a bit of an obsession with YouTube, so I have another video for you. We're going to talk about being honest with ourselves this morning. To start this conversation off, let's play this video.
[A-V: A short video of anamorphic illusions plays.]
So these are what are called anamorphic illusions. They only work in a 2D environment, on a screen. You could print off a piece of paper and put it against a desk, and it looks like a real object according to our limited vision on the screen. But then you spin it, and you realize, oh, it's just a sheet of paper. The reason I show you this is that we are very easily deceived. We saw the screen and thought, "Oh, we're looking at a Rubik's Cube." And then we realized, "Oh, we're looking at even less than a Rubik's Cube, but somehow cooler than a Rubik's Cube" — unless you're really into them, and that's okay too. I'm terrible at them; never hand me one, or I'll be distracted for days.
So what we're talking about is not only being easily deceived, but also being easily self-deceived. There was this research project where researchers recruited test subjects for a self-deception study. But instead of telling them that — because it would cue them in — they told them it was for the psychological and medical aspects of athletes. They had the participants hold their arms in a bucket of ice water, really cold water, for as long as they possibly could. These participants did it for about 30 to 40 seconds, give or take — as long as they thought they could. And that was the test. Then, after they did the water thing, the researchers told these participants, "Okay, now there are two kinds of hearts. There is the type 1 heart, which is poor health, short life expectancy — the kind of heart you don't want to have. And there's the type 2 heart, which is better health, longer life expectancy."
Then they broke these participants into two groups. They told group number one that people who have the type 2 heart — the better heart, with the longer life expectancy — have a higher tolerance to putting their arms in cold water. And they told the other group that people who have the type 2 heart with the better health and longer life expectancy have a lower tolerance to putting their arms in cold water. Then they took these two groups and had them do the cold water test again. And wouldn't you know it, the people who were told that healthy hearts means higher tolerance were able to hold their arms in the water for about 10 to 15 seconds longer. And those who were told that the better heart means lower tolerance to the ice water held their arms in the water for about 10 to 15 seconds less.
Now, they did a whole bunch of other little tests to try to figure out: "Okay, you people who thought it would mean less — were you lying to us, the researchers? Or were you lying to yourselves?" And about 60% of these people really thought that they couldn't hold their arms in the water any longer. They just thought, "Nope, that's it, can't possibly do it."
What this research project tells us is that we have an immense power to deceive ourselves: to pay attention only to the things that reinforce our already preconceived notions about reality, to impose our own beliefs on what we see, to discount evidence that contradicts our already established beliefs.
The reason I bring this up is that there are three deceptions that John's church — the churches he is writing to in the book of 1 John — are telling themselves, and telling John, and telling the people around them. So let's talk about these three deceptions.
Deception One: God Is Okay with My Darkness
Deception number one: God is okay with my darkness — that is, God is okay with my sin. We see this in chapter 1, verse 6: we have fellowship with God who is light, and we walk — that is, we continue to live — in darkness. What they're saying is that we have fellowship with God, yet we get to do whatever we want to do, and God doesn't really care. This is one of the most basic lies we tell ourselves, regardless of whether we consider ourselves Christians or not. In fact, it may be so basic a lie that we hardly realize we're telling it to ourselves. And this usually comes out in the form of justifying our sins or faults, either to God or to other people. Examples: "God is okay with my anger, because he knows the injustice I have suffered." "God is okay with my lusting, because he knows how withholding my spouse has been." "God is okay with my jealousy, because he knows how poor we are." Et cetera. We're very, very good at justifying our sins to ourselves.
But the reality is that God is light — that is, he is holy, righteous, and utterly without sin or fault. Therefore, our sins, be they mere mistakes or purposeful acts of rebellion, automatically break our relationship with God. And this isn't because God is eager to be done with us. It isn't because God is capricious or whimsically angry. Remember what we've already learned: God loved us first. But the fact of the matter is, light and dark can't coexist. If we walk in darkness, we shouldn't be surprised when we don't have this gleaming relationship with light at the same time.
Deception Two: My Nature Isn't Fallen
Deception number two: my nature isn't fallen. This is what they claim in verse 8: we claim to be without sin. What they mean is that they think their very natures — their personalities, their mind, their soul, whatever — are not fallen, not by their very nature screwed up. This usually comes out when we hear people say, "I'm overall a pretty good guy." For some reason, it usually gets connected to the phrase, "Hey, I've never murdered anyone," as if that somehow proves you've been a decent human being. Which is just hilarious. We've all known drivers or bosses or children at the McDonald's play place who haven't murdered anyone, and that doesn't mean they're decent human beings. Right? Okay, we're on the same page.
Now, we know that this whole "not fallen" thing isn't true for three reasons.
First of all, our own internal lives. When we're honest with ourselves, we intuitively know that we are naturally inclined to mess up. You've got to love these e-cards that show up on Pinterest: "I can't return to the gym until I lose some weight." Or, as a comedian once said, "My doctor says I can't exercise until I'm in better shape." How many of us have ever been on a diet or some exercise routine in an attempt to lose weight? Oh, just me? Okay, I know that's not true. First of all, the very fact that we're on this diet or new exercise routine says something about our fallen nature in itself — that we got to the point where we needed one. But second, I imagine it's about 0% of us in here who have taken on a diet or exercise routine and succeeded perfectly the first time. "I will do better. I will eat less junk. I will exercise more." And then the next day, or the next week, or the next minute, we fall right off the wagon. This proves that we're not all we're cracked up to be. We're not all that in a bag of chips. We tend to screw up. We know that we are fallen, because it's just intuitive. We are all acquainted with guilt and shame.
Secondly, when we look at the world around us, we recognize that a lot of it is pretty broken because of human beings. You've heard these statistics: three billion people live on less than two dollars a day. Here's one I was recently told — wrap your minds around this: more girls were killed in the last 50 years, precisely because they were girls, than men killed in all the wars of the 20th century. This is what we call gendercide, or femicide. More girls were killed precisely because they were girls than all men killed in wars in the 20th century. That should startle us, and awaken us to the fact that human beings are pretty messed up. Our very natures, our essences, are distorted.
Thirdly, the Bible shows us that we are all broken. In the book of Romans chapter 5, Paul writes that sin entered the world through one man — that is, Adam — and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned. This is what theologians call depravity. We are, in our very nature, depraved and fallen people.
As an aside, this is what is wrong with any and every kind of positive-thinking movement — because they all begin with the assumption that my thoughts or wishes or desires are positive in the first place. They aren't. These philosophies, or so-called theologies, don't properly take into account that we're messed up. Our wishes are messed up, and we couldn't think positively if our lives depended on it. We've messed up in thinking that "God will give me the desires of my heart" means God will give me what my heart desires. We get this from Psalm 37, verse 4: "God will give you the desires of your heart." And we think, "Oh, that's nice — whatever we want, God will give us." But it does not equal that. What it does mean is that God will properly order your desires to reflect his will. Our very natures are screwy.
Deception Three: I Don't Sin Anyway
Now, the third deception that John's church was telling themselves, and the third one I think we deal with, is: I don't sin anyway. This would be the kind of thing where they might admit, "Okay, God is not fine with sin; he's not okay with people walking in darkness. Okay, we'll admit that our very essences, our souls, what makes us human, are fallen. But that doesn't matter, because I don't make mistakes in the first place." But this, we know, is patently ridiculous. We're deceiving ourselves. We're just not being honest. And when we're not being honest with ourselves, then we are the ones preventing God from doing his work in us — because in our minds, there's no work to be done.
The Full Gospel
The smaller we make the problem of sin, the less magnificent we make salvation from God. If we think that sin is a non-issue or a small issue, then that makes what God did through Jesus not a very big deal. But the gospel, the good news of Christ, is not just that our God is a loving God. The good news is that our God is a loving God to us — a people who deserve no love. When we lop off, when we're only focused on one of these truths, we sacrifice the full meaning of the other. Are you tracking? If we focus merely on the fact that God is a loving God, then we've lopped off, mis-emphasized, undone the fact that we are broken and fallen and sinful. And, like we talked about last week, there are so-called gospels that focus on nothing but sin, nothing but our mistakes, nothing but our faults — but we miss out on the loving and good and gracious and compassionate God. And that's not a gospel at all. The full gospel says: not only is God loving, and not only are we sinful, but God is loving to us, a people who deserve no love.
And so you'll notice — this is why we're making confession a regular part of our worship here at Good News. We must be willing to be honest with ourselves, because if we are not, then we are making God's grace out to be less than it truly is. God has forgiven fundamentally broken and sinful people, not merely moderately dingy people. In our worship services, we believe we need to be proclaiming the gospel in its fullness: not just that God is loving, but that God is loving to us, those who deserve no love.
Fellowship of the Spirit
Now, this particular sermon is called Fellowship of the Spirit, and at some point you may begin asking, "Why is it called that?" Now's the time I get to tell you. It is only by the work of the Holy Spirit that we become aware of our brokenness, and therefore of our deep need for God. Jesus says this in John chapter 6: no one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them. Being honest with ourselves is the Spirit's work in our lives. He can cut through all deception, self-inflicted or otherwise.
Now, for us who are already Christians, this started long before you made a decision for Christ. The Spirit had been working in you, wooing you, drawing you, persuading you. And for those of you who don't yet know Jesus — maybe your friend or family member dragged you along this morning — what we believe is that the Spirit is already working on you. He is showing you the depth of God's love for you, and the depth of your need for God, right now. I could never convince you of how deep God's love for you is, and I could never convince you of how deep your need for God is. Only the Spirit can do that, and only the Spirit is doing that. Paul puts it this way in 1 Corinthians 2: we've received God's Spirit so that we may understand what God has freely given us. The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from God, but considers them foolishness and cannot understand them.
So the question for those who do not yet know God is: are you willing to be honest with God for the first time — to listen to what the Spirit is telling you about God's love and your deep need for it, and then confess that need to God? This is what we call repentance. When this happens, you begin to fellowship with the Spirit, to be in relationship with God himself.
For those who already know God and are in relationship with him, we must regularly ask ourselves if we are still walking in fellowship with the Spirit. Because being honest with God is not just a one-time, and-then-forget-about-it experience. It must be ongoing, continual, and constant. Listen to this from writer Thomas Oden:
Repentance is liable to being misunderstood. It can be misread as a human accomplishment by which one seems to make oneself worthy of grace. It can be mistaken as an intellectual change of mind without a change of will or heart, as if repentance were essentially the acceptance of the idea of sin rather than that one is personally a sinner oneself. It can be misconstrued as a wrenching emotional experience involving grief over sin and catharsis, yet without moral reformation or fundamental spiritual redirection.
And this is what John is writing about. Confession is a necessary part of our conversion experience, but it is also a necessary part of our walk with God. Because the moment we stop being honest about who we are in light of who God is, that's the moment we stop growing as apprentices of Jesus.
A Necessary Balance
Now let me pause and take a breath for a moment. You'll notice I'm mostly reading this sermon. Of course, that's not always the most entertaining way to deliver a sermon. But the reason I felt it was so important to write this down, word by word, is because I feel like this is so important.
The problem with sin, and with talking about sin in churches, is that it's been abused. So many of us grew up, or have heard, nothing but gospels of sin, or gospels of sin management, or gospels of how terrible you are — which are not really gospels at all. And so when somebody like me, a preacher, comes up on a platform to remind you, "No, you're sinful, and yeah, you're fallen, and yeah, you really have a deep need for God," there's going to be this automatic wall put up: "Yeah, we've heard this." But I want to challenge you that the reason we bring this up is not just as a guilt trip. This is not a downer. It's not meant to be a downer. We have to be real about who we are, or else we really miss out on what God has done. We really, truly miss out on the good news of Jesus Christ.
If we really think that we're not that bad, that makes Christ's sacrifice on the cross not that good. I just came up with that. Does that make sense? If we really think our sin issue is not that big of a deal, then that makes what Jesus did on the cross — represented this morning to us by communion, a body broken and blood poured out — not that important. It actually makes it seem a little foolish. If I'm not that bad of a person, why on earth did God come down in the form of a human being and sacrifice his life? Boy, that seems like overkill.
And this is where we have to walk a very fine line, this balancing act between not just preaching a gospel of guilt and shame, and not just preaching a gospel of "God is good, God is great, God is so loving." Because if we only preach that, without the concept of sin, God's not really that great — because we like people who like us. We love people who love us. This is what Paul writes about: even a decent person will die for someone who's also a decent person, but Christ died for people who were rebellious and sinful and fallen. This is why we're talking about this, and this is why I feel the need to get this right, to say this word for word, to get this precise. Because I don't want any one of us to walk out this morning and feel like, "Well, another sermon about sin, another sermon to make me feel pretty crummy." That's not the point. To recognize what Christ has brought us up from, what Jesus is delivering us from, should make us shout for joy, should make us realize that our God is even better than we thought he was. Can we agree with that?
The Path to Transformation
All right, what was I saying? The moment we stop being honest about who we are in light of who God is, is the moment we stop growing as apprentices of Jesus. Because that's the point. We're not studying the perfect and complete love of God just so we can talk more educatedly about it. And we're not talking about sin and confession merely so we can feel bad about ourselves. We're talking about all this because it should lead us to relationship with Jesus — the kind of relationship in which we are seeking to be like him. John says this in chapter 3: when Christ appears, we shall be like him. Or, as Paul says in 2 Corinthians chapter 3, we are all being transformed into the Lord's image. Or, as Peter writes, grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
When we, as Christians, as believers, get honest with God — when we're willing to admit our self-deceptions, when we're willing to allow repentance to soak into the whole of ourselves, the day-in, day-out of our lives — then we can be honest to God with our very lives, with our behaviors, our actions, our thoughts, and our deeds.
So we begin by being honest with ourselves, by casting out these deceptions: "God's okay with my sin," "I'm not a fallen person," "I don't sin anyway." We have to be honest with ourselves. When we can be honest with ourselves, then we can be honest with God: "God, we confess. Lord, have mercy." Then, once we're honest with ourselves and honest with God, we can be honest to God with our lives — honest to God by how we act and behave, by modeling, by apprenticing ourselves to Jesus Christ.
It's only when we get honest about the depth of our sin that we can get real about the depth of the cure. If we think our sin is only skin-deep, then don't be surprised when God's transformation of you is also only skin-deep. When our last act of repentance and honesty about sin was when we first turned to Christ for salvation, then don't be disappointed that you haven't felt spiritual growth since that moment.
God's salvation is powerful. It is immense, and it is absolute. The salvation that God offers cannot be cheapened, lessened, or undone. Christ's sacrifice was perfect, complete, and once for all. But the Holy Spirit's process inside of you — to make you holy, to make you like Christ, to remove from you the defects of sin — can be ignored, refused, or made to be more difficult. We have to submit. James puts it like this: submit yourselves to God; come near to God, and he will come near to you; wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded; grieve, mourn, and wail. And here is the kicker: humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.
Conclusion
So, last week we talked about the love of God — complete and absolute, a God of compassion and mercy and justice. And when we see this God, in light with no darkness whatsoever, we then come to realizations about who we are. God is love. We are fallen. And so in two weeks, we'll talk about the solution to that: the grace of Christ.
Closing Prayer
Let's pray. Our good and compassionate God, this is no fun sermon to deliver. My prayer for my brothers and sisters in front of me is that, despite my words, despite my foibles, despite my hesitation to deliver a sermon about sin, you would speak to us anyway — that you would soften our hearts, and that you would make us a people who are honest with ourselves and with you. We know it's only by your Spirit that we are drawn to you, God, and so may your Spirit continue to draw us, and may we be receptive to it. And to my friends here who don't yet know you, who were maybe dragged here by their earlobes by a friend or family member, who hear this kind of message and think, "Why would anybody sign up for that?" — my prayer, God, is that your Spirit would show them that you are forgiving, and that you are loving, and that humbling ourselves doesn't mean we're just humiliated, but that you lift us up and you save us. We're thankful for your love and your grace. May we live and abide in them, day by day, moment by moment. Amen.
This is a transcript of the sermon as preached, lightly edited for readability.
