Has it ever seemed like there is no joy in avoiding sin? If I were to be honest with myself, I’ve never felt any joy in avoiding sin. This might sound blasphemous, but isn’t it true? If I were to stop writing this blog right now, walk away from my laptop screen, and go look at a Playboy magazine, it would undoubtedly leave me feeling disgusting, unsatisfied, and guilty (as it should). But does simply avoiding pornographic images leave me with a feeling of insurmountable happiness? Not really.
I don’t, on a day-to-day basis, tell my friends “It just feels so good not to have a 102 degree fever.” My first day of recovery after a fever might be a relief in comparison to my prior sick days, but on an average day, a lack of sickness doesn’t feel great, it just feels like nothing at all. I don’t even think about it.
The Playboy example is a literal example of sin and the 102-degree fever example is of course an analogy for sin, but both examples seek to show how though the absence of sin is desirable to the presence of sin, its mere absence doesn’t give me any sort of pleasure. All it gives me is dry, boring, normalcy.
This is something I’ve been learning time and time again in the past few weeks, through prayer, the reading of scripture, and through reading John Piper’s book, Desiring God. I had been trying so hard to avoid sin that I had forgotten to seek its holy replacement, namely God himself. I have had my priorities totally reversed. Avoiding sin is undoubtedly a serious divine command, but I’m starting to realize how much more important it is to chase God’s heart. When I strive to imitate God’s love, understand his will, and synchronize my heart with His, it’s hard not to avoid sin.
I picture sin as candy as God as a filet mignon. Though we will undoubtedly be healthier if we avoid eating candy, we will be starving if we eat nothing else. Candy (sin) tastes good, but not nearly as good as steak! Eating candy will never fill us up but a streak dinner will leave us greatly satisfied. Have you ever had one of those meals where you walk out of a restaurant swearing you will never eat again? After a steak dinner, I wouldn’t even dream of eating a pack of skittles, not because the skittles suddenly became less intrinsically tasty (sin will always be slightly appealing because of our fallen nature), but simply because I am full. Luke 1:53 says, “He has filled the hungry with good things.”
I have become so accustomed to eating candy, that I sometimes forget the steak dinner even exists. John Piper, when referring to our complacency and satisfaction with sin, says “we are like little children who want to go on making mud pies in the slums, because we cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea”.
So many times we hear sermons on avoiding drinking, avoiding pre-marital sex, condemning abortion, avoiding judgment, avoiding favoritism, avoiding lying, avoiding material wealth, and condemning homosexuality. These are all necessary truths and this advice should be followed at all times, but the true question shouldn’t be what are we avoiding, but what are we seeking?
Imagine this scenario: A triathlete goes to a coach and asks him “Coach, what do I need to do to be an Olympic triathlete?” The coach responds, “You need to avoid soda because it will dehydrate you. You need to avoid twelve-hour car rides because they will tighten your legs up. Most importantly, though, you absolutely must avoid getting in a car accident, because your legs will break and you will be unable to race.” What a joke that coach would be! If instead of merely avoiding those three things, the runner ran, biked, and swam his way into competitiveness, he wouldn’t dream of tightening his legs or dehydrating himself, because both things would detract from his ability to re-experience the great victories he would be experiencing.
The word sin is an archery term that literally means, “to miss the mark”. To miss the mark, however, means we actually have to be shooting at something in the first place. A few months ago, I saw the play Memphis. In one of the first songs, a rebellious twenty-year old bursts through the door, singing, cursing, and dancing on tables. His elderly mother scolds him by saying something to the effect of “this is a Christian home!” Though the son shouldn’t have been cursing, it was amazing to see how the mother had reduced the Christian identity of her home into merely avoiding cursing. Nowhere else in the play did the mother sing praises, pour over scripture, joyously share the Gospel, or sacrifice radically to help the poor and needy. She didn’t make me proud to be a Christian, she made me embarrassed.
So far the joy I’m receiving from pursuing Christ as my focus has been incredible. I felt more joy from singing Blessed Be Your Name in the shower this morning, than I did from winning my first cross-country race. I’ve even felt more joy from pondering a future (though currently non-existent) Christ-centered romantic relationship, than I ever have during any point of any real relationship I’ve been in. It’s incredible, and I know this is only the beginning. As a by product, sin has been so much easier to avoid!
Though I feel like I’m ending this really abruptly, I simply don’t have anything else to say yet, because I’m still so new in my realization of this concept! I just know, though, that I will be able to expand upon this once I learn more.
