Amos 7.7-15
Psalm 85.8-13
Ephesians 1.3-14
Mark 6.14-29
You
may have noticed that I don’t often talk about sin, not least of which because
what so often goes by the name of sin and for which we condemn others and
condemn ourselves, are merely mistakes we make in our attempts to do right, or
they are the consequences of living in a complex world comprised not of black
and white, but of shades of grey. So
much of what goes by the name of sin are normal mistakes we almost have to make
in order to learn to get things right.
The New Testament Greek word for sin is harmatia, and it is essentially an archery term which means to
“miss the mark.” Yet, if you’ve done any
archery at all you know that you have to miss the mark a lot before you
actually hit the bulls-eye. In fact,
missing the mark is part of learning to hit the bulls-eye. What normally passes for sin in our religious
education, is like that. We fail and
fail as we learn to get things right.
Now, while these sinnings – these
failings – may cause distress, disappointment and heartache to those who feel
their effects, there is a deeper and more insidious understanding of sin, an
understanding which is deeply rooted in the Church’s tradition. In this understanding, sin is a deliberate
transgression of what one’s conscience regards as the divine law. Sin in this sense requires three conditions:
that the act be sinful, that I know
and believe the act to be sinful, and that I freely consent to it
nonetheless. Without any of these it is
not sin in the truest sense. So, while
sin has often been portrayed as a betrayal of God, it is equally a betrayal of
self, because when we sin in this deep way you go against what our conscience
knows to be right and good and truthful.
Perhaps there is no better example of this in the New Testament than the
story of Herod and the execution of John the Baptist. The writer of Mark tells us that Herod, while
knowing John a righteous and holy man, and while he liked to listen to John,
still put him in prison at the instigation of Herodias, his brother’s wife whom
he had married. Then later in order to
save face and against his conscience – Mark tells us that Herod was deeply
grieved – he had John executed. Nowhere
along the way does he voice or act upon what he believes and knows to be true;
in this case that John is a righteous and holy man. Herod is not a morally weak man or a morally
ambivalent man. Neither is he stupid or
uninformed. He understands the
difference between right and wrong, and yet he cares more for what others
think, willingly travelling upon the path of least resistance. This is sin in the truest sense of the
concept. At every step of the way Herod
betrays what he knows to be right, at every step of the way he betrays his
conscience: he marries his brother’s wife, he imprisons John, and he eventually
has John executed. In him we see not a
man who fails in his struggling to do right, but one who knowing what is right
and having the power to do the right, nevertheless chooses otherwise.
Sin in its truest sense is more
than the doing of wrongful acts, but it is also the wilful and knowing
opposition to the right in order to save one’s skin, or save face, or avert an
argument. It is the choice of ignoring
the right in the name of expedience or pragmatism or group solidarity; and the effects of sin always return to wreak
their vengeance. Think for a moment on
the history of our own country. The compromises
made with slavery – even by those who believed it to be fundamentally wrong – exacted
eventually in the form of civil war a terrible toll on the nation and her
people. The character of Thomas More put
this well in Bolt’s play A Man for All
Seasons when he said, “I believe, when statesmen forsake their private
conscience for the sake of their public duties…they lead their country by a
short route to chaos.” Herod too must have
known that this was true – this thing about the repercussions of sin – because
when he heard about Jesus and his healings and miracles he said, “John, whom I
beheaded, has been raised.” (Mark 6.16)
Having betrayed his conscience he could never now rest easy. There would be repercussions and Jesus might
just be one of them. Sin in its truest
sense is the betrayal of what we hold most dear or believe to be most true for
the sake of getting on, even for the
sake of some supposedly higher ideal.
We
do not sin by accident, neither do we sin out of ignorance – both of those are
called mistakes. But sin is not a
mistake. We sin in the deliberate
rejection of what we know to be true. We
sin in the conscious decision to shirk our personal responsibility to do what
we know to be right. Sin is the action
of a responsible person acting irresponsibly.
For this reason it has been believed by the Church that children below a
certain age – usually seven – cannot sin.
They simply do not have the responsible capabilities that the act of sin
requires. They make mistakes, they throw
things, they struggle with trying to understand their world, but they do not
sin. They do not sin because they have
not reached what moral theologians call the “age of reason.” Sin requires reasonable and reasoning
knowledge of the act. And yet, for
adults, mere ignorance of the facts when those facts are available to us does
excuse sin. Indeed to deliberately
ignore information in order simply to spare ourselves the onus of responsibility
is in itself a sin. We know that the
informations is available, we know that our encounter with it will lead us to
understand better our responsibility, and yet we choose to ignore it, to keep
ourselves in ignorance.
Sin
in its truest sense is the deliberate doing of wrong, even when we know it to
be wrong, even when we know the right.
It is what Herod did. It is what
we all do when, even in the name of some supposed higher good or purpose, we
deny or betray our conscience, our beliefs.
In its deepest sense sin is not the little mistakes we make through life
in our attempts to get things right (damaging and hurtful as they may be), but
it is the clear and conscious denial of the right, it is the clear and
conscious choice to do that which we know to be wrong. It is the clear and conscious betrayal of our
deepest selves, that place where God abides.
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