SOFT ON SIN?
March 2007
for the Collect, publication for St. Thomas Episcopal Church,
Medina, WA
From the Baptismal Covenant:
“Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God?”
“Do you renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?”
“Do you renounce all sinful desires that draw you from the love of God?”
A few years ago, an acquaintance of mine heard Desmond Tutu speak at an event at her seminary. She wasn’t at all impressed by him: she said he had talked a lot about how we can do God’s work in the world, but he hadn’t said anything about sin. She asked, “Tutu is supposed to be some kind of Christian, right?”
I tried hard not to laugh as I explained that Tutu is the former Anglican Archbishop of South Africa. Could one speech without a mention of sin really convince her that Tutu wasn’t a “real” Christian?
Yet this is a reputation that the Episcopal Church is often saddled with: that we’re “soft on sin.” I once heard a priest speak of this bewildering label and then clarify, “We’re not soft on sin; we just put the focus on God’s grace and forgiveness.”
Lent is a time when Episcopalians are clearly not “soft on sin.” This forty-day season is a time to examine our souls thoroughly, publicly confessing our sins in worship and then celebrating God’s forgiveness with Holy Communion. If we sweep our sins under the rug during this time, it’s to our own detriment.
But an overemphasis on sin is not healthy either. Some Christians agonize over whether they’ve “been saved.” I think of other churches I’ve visited, where people are invited in “altar calls” to accept Jesus into their hearts. Yes, this need is real. But to me, focusing on sin feels like emotional blackmail. Have these people not been to the tomb early Sunday morning? Have they not heard the Good News? Even death is no obstacle to God’s saving love. Do they not realize that Satan has already lost?
Some people are uncomfortable with talk of Satan, saying that he’s just a scapegoat for our own shortcomings. I myself have been in that camp: I don’t believe there’s a corporeal being with horns and a pitchfork, and most of the time, I can take the blame for my own faults.
But in the times in my life when I have felt totally out of control – when I have hurt people so badly that I can’t imagine any possibility of reconciliation – I have come to understand the need to personify evil. I have sinned a lot. But I know that God created me good, so not all evil begins with me. And I cannot grasp the reality of sin unless I give it a name. Only when I name the Evil One does sin lose its mystery and terror. Only then can I gain power over it.
Yes, we are all guilty of sin. And that’s why it’s never helpful to dwell on our own or anybody else’s: because we’re all on the same sinking ship and in need of life vests. When there’s something evil going on in your life—whether it’s your own fault or somebody else’s or nobody’s at all—the best thing you can do is renounce that evil. Then you can invite God to fill the sin-shaped hole in your life with eternal, transforming love.
The Episcopal Church holds an “altar call” every single week. So this Sunday, don’t be “soft on sin.” Venture into that place where you keep your most shameful secrets—that place you mistakenly think is too impure for God to tread. Take your broken, bleeding heart and clench it tightly in your fist. Then, at the altar, open up your hands and give it to God. God will give it back to you as Bread and Wine. Take this heavenly food into yourself and be free from sin..