The Call to Purity and the Fact of Sin

Do you sin?

The Apostle John tells us, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us” (1 John 1:8).

So, yes, you and I do sin.

Yet the same apostle also tells us, “You know that [Christ] appeared in order to take away sins; and in Him there is no sin.  No one who abides in Him sins; no one who sins has seen Him or knows Him” (1 John 3:5-6 New American Standard, which is quite literal here).

So you and I must not sin.  

All Christians thus live in the tension between Scripture’s call to purity and its judgment of universal sinfulness. How do we resolve the tension?

Twenty years ago, D.A. Carson and John Woodbridge wrote a series of letters from a fictional seminary professor named Paul to a young man named Timothy who recently had come to faith in Christ. Letters Along the Way (Crossway, 1993, available now for free as a pdf download) intersperses those letters with Timothy’s descriptions of the occasion that prompted each.

The early chapters focus on Timothy learning to live the Christian life. Letter 11 is particularly helpful for dealing with this important tension:

Read 1 John – doctrine, obedience, and love go together. Read Galatians and Romans – Christology, justification by faith, and the obedience of faith stand or fall together. Read 1 Corinthians – the gifts of the Spirit, the doctrine of the resurrection, transparent love, and moral probity stand or fall together. Jesus is Lord.

I do not for a moment want to convey the impression that Christians simply do not sin. Here, too, 1 John is of enormous help. Writing to Christians, John says that, on the one hand, if anyone claims he does not sin or has not sinned, he is a liar, self-deceived, guilty of calling God a liar (since God says we are all sinners-1 John 1:6,8,10). On the other hand, John insists that Christians do not go on sinning, that they obey Christ and love the brothers (see especially 1 John 3:7-10). How can both emphases be true?

In fact, unless you hold both emphases strongly and simultaneously, you will go seriously astray. Stress the former, and you will become lackadaisical about sin; stress the latter, and you may gravitate toward some version of Christian perfectionism where you hold you have already attained perfection when all your colleagues (and especially your family!) can see you are deluded. The fact is that until Jesus’ return, we will sin. As we grow in holiness, we will become aware of inconsistencies and taints we had not even spotted before. Most of us will sometimes stumble and drift, at times rather seriously. There will be different rates of progress, different degrees of spiritual maturity; all of us will have to return to Jesus for renewed cleansing and forgiveness. But at the same time, if we are Christians, we will insist that there is never any excuse for sin. In no case do we have to sin. Though in our lives as a whole, we may ruefully recognize we will sin, in any particular instance we do not have to sin, and that particular sin is therefore without excuse. Sinning is simply not allowed in the Christian way. No provision must be permitted to encourage it; no excuse ever justifies it.

You and I live in this tension. The only solution is not a theoretical one, but a practical one, an existential one. “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, [God] is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:8-9).

That, Tim, is God’s answer to your sin and your only hope. And it is enough. Never, never treat God’s forgiveness lightly, as if you may sin with impunity because God is there to forgive you; but never, never wallow in the guilt of some sin you have committed in the fear that God is not merciful enough or gracious enough to forgive you. Learn not to flirt with sin; and when you fall, learn to beg God’s forgiveness for Jesus’ sake and press on. That is the only way you can live with a clean conscience; it is the only way that your confession of Jesus as Lord will have any bite in your life.

I write as a fellow sinner, forgiven and pressing on.

Or put another way: Ask yourself two questions:

(1)    How do I anticipate sin in my life? Like a child of God?

(2)    How do I respond to sin in my life? Like a child of God?

May we love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and thus hate and fight against the sin He hates; and may we know that, as God’s children, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous, who paid the penalty for our every sin.

(For more on this topic, see the sermon “No One Who Abides in Jesus Sins” on 1 John 3:4-10.)

The Compost Pile: An Analogy of Forgiveness and Forbearance in Marriage

[This article was originally written six years ago, when John Piper was preaching the series of sermons that eventually became This Momentary Marriage. The sermon referred to here was revised to become chapter 4 of the book. Beth and I use this document both in preparing couples for marriage, and in helping those who are dealing with marital problems.]

This last Sunday, John Piper continued his series on marriage, discussing forbearance and forgiveness. In conclusion, he relates an analogy he and his wife have found helpful. What follows is an edited transcription of that analogy; I’ll extend it with some additional thoughts afterwards:

The compost pile: Trying to pull together forbearance and forgiveness and all the things we’ve seen – I’m closing with the compost pile. Picture your marriage . . . as a grassy field. You enter it at the beginning full of hope and joy. You look out on the field and you see beautiful flowers and grass stretching and rolling hills and trees. . . . It is beautiful. You want to walk in this all your days. (The grass, the flowers, the hills, the sky, the warm breeze: [these represent] not what happens to you, [but] the relationship. . . . I’m describing the relationship). And on the wedding day, I want this woman, and I want this man, and we want to be together, to walk in the beautiful fields of green grass, and spring flowers, and trees, and hills, and bright sunshine and cool breezes. That’s the way [we think] it’s going to be. But before long, you step in a cow pie. And in some seasons of your marriage they seem to be everywhere: “This is not grass; this is just manure!” Late at night they become especially prevalent. . . . These [cow pies] are sins, flaws, idiosyncrasies, weaknesses, annoying habits in your spouse. And you try to forgive them and you try to forbear.

The problem is, they can tend to dominate the relationship. Everywhere you step, it smells. It may not be true that they’re everywhere; it just feels that way. I think the combination of forbearance and forgiveness leads to the creation of a compost pile. Here at the compost pile, you and your wife or husband begin to shovel cow pies into this pile. And you put a fence around it to hold them in. And you look at each other and you simply admit that there are a lot of cow pies, . . . [saying,] “You and I bring a lot of cow pies to this relationship.” And you say to each other, “You know, we’ve got to do this because [these cow pies are] all we’re thinking about. I mean, we’re looking for them to step in. So let’s get them and throw them in one place. Let’s throw them in a . . . compost pile. Compost can do some good. . . . When we have to, we will go there . . . and we’ll smell it, and we’ll feel bad and we’ll deal with it as best we can. Then, we’ll walk away from the pile . . . and we’ll set our eyes on the rest of field.” [This] is right at the heart of what I’m trying to say. Satan and our flesh can begin to take a few disappointments, a few frustrations, and multiply them so out of proportion that we think there is no green grass anywhere, there are no flowers anywhere, there are no trees, there are no hills, there is no sunshine – which is an absolute lie. And then we say to each other, “We’re going to walk away from that pile and set our eyes on the rest of the field, and we’re going to pick some favorite paths and hills that we know are not strewn with cow pies. And we’re going to be thankful that that part of the field . . . is sweet.” It may be a small part now, but that part is sweet.

Our hands may be dirty. And our backs may ache from all the shoveling. But we know one thing: We will not pitch our tent by the compost pile. . . . We won’t go live there. We won’t retreat there. We won’t lick our wounds there. . . . We will go there when we must. This is the gift of grace that we will give each other again and again and again. . . . Why? Because you and I are chosen and holy and loved.

This is covenant keeping. I recognize that I am a forgiven sinner. And, with eyes wide open, not eyes that are blind to her faults, I recognize that Beth is a forgiven sinner. Furthermore, I recognize that she and I are credited with the righteousness of Christ Himself. And so, having been forgiven much, and living with a forgiven sinner who has  Christ’s righteousness, I promise to pick up all the cow pies that she is responsible for that are strewn over the hills of our marriage, and carry them to the compost pile and leave them there. She promises to do the same.

That’s the promise. And that’s vital in marriage. It’s vital in any intimate Christian relationship.

But then a miracle happens. Have you ever had a compost pile? We keep vegetable scraps under our kitchen sink before carrying them out to the compost pile. And sometimes, if we’re slow to take out the buckets, they can smell putrid by the time we take them out. Even rinsing out the container can be a chore. It stinks! The compost pile smells rotten when you first dump the bucket on it. But if you add some dirt and leaves and mix it and turn it occasionally – after a few weeks, it no longer smells bad. Instead, it smells fresh. Deep. Earthy. And if you then take that compost and spread it over the grassy fields, the grass sucks up the nutrients, and thrives, and becomes deep and thick and luscious and green.

Just so in marriage. The compost created by all the forgiveness and forbearance represented in the pile deepens and enriches the marriage. You now grow wonderful grass in areas where, in the past, the hilltop was barren and bleak. You can now stop and rest – yes, you can enjoy – parts of your shared life that previously were messy and stinking and unapproachable. You can laugh at your former insensitivity and stand amazed at what God’s grace has done in your shared life through His Spirit’s enablement of forgiveness and forbearance. Oh, you will each continue to create cow pies. But your covenant is: “I will take these to the compost pile. And I believe that God will use these too to enrich, and not to make barren, our life.”

Will you make that covenant with your present – or future – spouse? Will you commit to forgiving and forbearing one another – to the glory of God? Will you practice covenant faithfulness?

That is my commitment to you: To model such faithfulness in my marriage, to seek forgiveness quickly when I do not, and to help you to live this out through opening up the Word. May God be pleased within DGCC to make us a people who forbear, who forgive – and who thus make wonderful, nourishing compost to the glory of God.

Clean and Unclean

Last Sunday’s sermon dealt in part with the Law, the Torah, as a revelation of God’s character. Some in the congregation wondered how certain parts of the law, particularly the dietary laws, serve in this role. Ten years ago I was preaching through Leviticus at Community Bible Church in Williamstown, MA. Several of those sermons might be helpful: The overview, the sermon on the dietary laws and other issues of cleanness, and the first and second sermons on the “holiness code”. This week’s devotion is an excerpt – about 40% – of the sermon on cleanness and uncleanness. May we all see God’s character revealed in all His Word, and respond with wonder, awe, and love for the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Note that I preached this sermon on November 29, 1998, shortly after returning from a four-week trip to several African countries. – Coty

It’s a pleasure to be back after my long trip to Africa.

Whenever I return after a long trip, I am treated to a series of performances at home. Over the course of nearly a month, all of my six children develop new skills or new games that they want to share. So, last Wednesday evening about 6:15, the four youngest boys were presenting a show. The make-up was particularly interesting. All had some black marks on their faces, but the boy playing the Wild Man was the most extreme: dressed only in underwear and a loincloth, the Wild Man was covered from waist to hair with black face crayon. About 6:30, suddenly realizing that we had only twenty minutes to prepare for the Thanksgiving Eve service, I announced, “The show has to end in one minute. We’ve got to clean up and leave for the church by 6:50!” The Wild Man looked at me and said, “Can’t I go like this?”

Now, Community Bible Church has no dress code. Looking around this morning, I see some of us dressed in suits while others are dressed quite casually. But I think more than a few eyes would have turned had the Wild Man walked into church that evening.

Why did we tell the Wild Man to clean his face and arms and torso? Why shouldn’t my sons come to church dressed in loincloths? (more…)

Genocide and Forgiveness

Fourteen years ago, the genocide in Rwanda was at its height. See this link for a fascinating account – in the New York Times of all places – of the impact of the Gospel on reconciliation and forgiveness between perpetrators and relatives of victims. Here’s an excerpt: Words spoken by Jean Baptiste Ntakirutimana to the man who murdered his mother:

By the time he started explaining how he killed her I partly lost consciousness. I prayed to God to give me His spirit to revive me and give me more strength to continue, as I felt it was His mission I was on. Miraculously I felt warmth from my head to my feet, I felt like a big rock melting from my chest and my head. I felt very refreshed, cleaned up my tears and carried on the conversation tremendously relieved from my whole being. I then told him that I have personally been forgiven all my wrong from God and that it is in the same spirit that I was coming to him offering him pardon myself. Then it was like a huge veil off his face he started smiling with a lot of words of gratitude. He started holding my hands and telling me many other things I couldn’t expect about himself and the reality around the genocide. He agreed to go and see other people for whose family members he killed.”

Thanks be to God for His inexpressible gift!