Recently I had cause to recall a study day I attended a few years ago. Suitably interactive, involving a variety of teaching styles, and fully addressing a personally relevant learning need, it was the best educational event that I’ve ever attended.
But not one that I claimed any CPD points for.
And the reason for my seemingly schoolboy error? Well, simply this – it was a speed-awareness course.
The day began with the leader asking who amongst those present had told friends and family that they were attending the course.
Most hands went up – as did the corners of many people’s mouths, their smiles suggesting that few, if any, were particularly ashamed of the reason that had prompted their attendance.
Next the leader pointed out that breaking the speed limit was no less likely to cause a road traffic accident than driving whilst over the legal blood alcohol limit. And then asked how many people would have told others they were on the course had it been run for those who had committed a drink driving offence.
You’ll not be surprised to learn that no hands went up.
Later in the day, we were asked to suggest reasons why we might, on occasions, drive faster than the law permitted. A comprehensive list was generated – after which a short recording was played of a man describing how his child had been killed by a speeding motorist.
The leader then commented how our list, made up of what we had previously felt were potentially justifiable reasons for speeding, now seemed like nothing but a collection of weak excuses.
It was a highly effective learning experience.
And it prompted me to think about how we respond when we fail in other ways.
By which I mean, how we respond when we sin.
Because having experienced uncomfortable feelings myself, as a consequence of doing something wrong, I know how easy it is for me to try and relativise my misdemeanours by claiming they aren’t as bad as something somebody else may have done or, alternatively, try to justify my actions by insisting that what I did was understandable given the prevailing conditions.
But as the speed awareness taught me with regard to traffic offences, such attempts to cover my shame are as futile and foolish as those employed by Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.
You remember how they approached the problem.
They tried to cover their nakedness with fig leaves – which clearly proved woefully inadequate, given how they then attempted to hide from God by concealing themselves among the trees.
So having fallen, what might be a better strategy when an infinitely holy God, who cannot look on sin without hating what He sees, graciously comes to look for us?
For He will find us – as surely as His omnipresence means that He’s already present wherever we try to hide.
Well it would surely be to follow the example of the tax collector who, despite being so conscious of his sinfulness that he could not lift his eyes to heaven, cried out to God for mercy. [Luke 18:9-14]
We should then confess our sin – to the God who knows all about it as surely as His omniscience means that He already knows everything that we ever did. [John 4:39]
Because if we do, God will do all that is necessary to forgive us, as surely as His
omnipotence means that He can do anything He wants to.
Including declaring us righteous, as He did the tax collector – and covering our shame, as He did both Adam and Eve.
Not with the fur of an animal – but with the righteousness of Christ.
Because unlike the UK’s Speed Enforcement Units, whose grace, apparently, is limited to 10% of the existing speed limit plus an additional 2 miles per hour, God’s grace is sufficient for even the foremost of sinners. [2Corinthians 12:9, 1 Timothy 1:15]
And so, because of Christ’s substitutionary death on the cross, if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. [1 John 1:9-10]
Now I could stop there but to do so would, I think, be to leave everything a little too tidy.
Because sin matters and has serious consequences.
Furthermore, life is messy, sin is messy, and we are messy too. And few, if any, are left spotless after just the one encounter with the one who seeks to make us clean.
Like an eight-year-old boy who’s told he needs a bath, we all sometimes resist the efforts that are made to wash us – with tears often accompanying the struggle that ensues.
Many of us know what it is to mourn over our indwelling sin, even as we rejoice in the complete justification that was ours the moment we first believed. Because the normal Christian life is not straightforward, with the road to sanctification frequently a long and winding one.
As is painfully apparent from the all too frequent real life experiences recorded for us in Scripture.
So in closing let me highlight just a few verses that help me at least when I’m conscious of my own sin.
Firstly, and perhaps most predictably, there’s Psalm 51 which contains the words of King David after he was confronted about his having committed adultery with Bathsheba.
Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!
For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgement.
Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.
Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart.
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have broken rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities.
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.
[Psalm 51:1-10]
David’s response is an example of gutsy guilt. He knows he has no excuse, and so acknowledges his behaviour for what it is – sinful – without for one moment trying to rationalise his behaviour.
And his grief is godly too.
His sadness isn’t because he’s been caught – but because of what he’s done. Which is, after all, what being sorry is – feeling genuine sorrow for the wrong that was done. And in response it prompts genuine repentance – the earnest desire to be different to how you are.
But even as David expresses that wish, far more than the determination to change, he knows that he needs the clean heart and right spirit that only God can bring about.
And the same is true for us.
Because more than good intentions, we too need God to change us. More than self-help advice, we need His intervention.
Secondly, there’s Psalm 32, whose first five verses confirm that confession really is good for the soul.
Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.
Blessed is the man against whom the LORD counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.
For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long.
For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.
I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,” and you forgave the iniquity of my sin.
[Psalm 32:1-5]
To deny our sin then is not only stupid, it’s also unhealthy – both physically and psychologically. When we keep quiet about it, we sicken ourselves and are left emotionally wasted.
All of which is a far cry from the peace we derive when, having admitted our transgressions, we receive the Lord’s forgiveness.
And finally there are verses, written by the prophet Micah, that I at least find particularly helpful when feelings of guilt sometimes continue to linger.
Rejoice not over me, O my enemy; when I fall, I shall rise; when I sit in darkness, the LORD will be a light to me.
I will bear the indignation of the LORD because I have sinned against him, until he pleads my cause and executes judgement for me.
He will bring me out to the light; I shall look upon his vindication.
[Micah 7:8-9]
These then are precious words. Words that can comfort us when we know we’ve fallen, when we find ourselves sitting in darkness, and when it is us that the beast who’s prowling around, is looking to devour. [1Peter 5:8]
Because whilst the deceiver gloats over our failure, and delights to see us bearing the painful indignation that the Lord sometimes requires us to carry, our hope nonetheless remains in the promise that, despite our guilt, the Lord will plead our cause.
This is good news indeed. That the sinless Son of God is on our side. That He is our advocate in heaven – our defence attorney – who presents His own precious blood, shed for us on the cross, as the cast-iron proof of our innocence. And that, as a result, God will execute judgement – not against us, but for us.
Though never condemned for our sin, Christians are, however, sometimes disciplined for it. Which is not infrequently painful. [Hebrews 12:5-6]
But the fact that our Father loves us enough to do so is ultimately good news – because it is the gospel that sustains us in this sinful and often very sad world in which we live.
For knowing that it’s sin that causes us sorrow, and knowing that sin has been fully dealt with, we can now look forward with absolute assurance to the day that is undoubtedly drawing closer – when every tear will be wiped away and death will be no more. [Revelation 21:4]
So then, let’s not deny our sin, or our culpability. Let’s not try to explain it all away. And let’s not keep silent about it either.
Instead let’s confess to our loving Heavenly Father. And so know His forgiveness.
And yes, I will be attending another speed-awareness course in the not too far distant future. And not because there’s been a grave miscarriage of justice, not because it was stupid to place a speed camera where 36mph is perfectly reasonable on a Sunday morning when the roads are quiet, and not because I was momentarily distracted by concerns far more pressing than the presence or otherwise of a speed limit sign.
But because I’m still not as good a driver as I ought to be – or as good as the one that God will eventually make me. [Philippians 1:6]
If, that is, there are cars in heaven.
Some musings 