Wednesday, March 14, 2007

A sermon. An analogy. And a victory.

A sermon . . .
For the past few weeks my pastor has been trying to do justice to the subject of conquering sin. Big job. His heart's desire is for his flock to understand that sin can be conquered. But that it not a mystical experience. It is, rather, a daily fight. He first read from Hebrews 12, forcefully hammering home that sin MUST be conquered. That there is no excuse for complacency. His sermon was met with some discomfort. Some members of the congregation felt like they had been slapped. But me, and my purge-happy tendencies, loved the verbal kick-in-the-pants.
This past week my pastor tried again. "I didn't want you all to come away without hope." And so he reread the passage, and proceeded to reinforce a growing conviction in my heart: To conqueur sin is to be determined to break free. It is a conscious decision, that must be followed up with actions. Easier said than done . . .

An analogy . . .
"Throw off everything that hinders..."(Hebrews 12:1) While he spoke I felt like I was cliff jumping. Can you all picture yourself at the top of a 60-foot cliff? The analogy was readily available to me, since I have had extensive experience with 60-foot cliffs. (For the less adventurous, try picturing 20 feet. Still high enough for you to get the picture.) What you feel at the very top of a lakeside cliff is a great tension between the desire to jump-- to fully submit to the pull of the water below, feeling the powerful rush of air as you fall-- and the desire to keep rock solidly beneath your feet. You can stand there for five, ten, fifteen minutes trying to will yourself to JUST JUMP.
And then you do jump. It is a moment where you bust through your wall of fear and act completely irrationally. And you fall, fall, fall---Wham! You break the surface of the water, and despite any pain that may follow from the impact, your veins are pumping with the thrill of victory and accomplishment.

So, yeah, that's how I feel about my battle with sin. Leaving the cliff is doing something about my sin. But that something takes monumental effort. That is the nature of beginnings. Just initiating some movement is incredibly hard. But once you do, the blessings become apparent, and they help sustain and encourage the forward movement. (Or downward movement, as my analogy better illustrates.)

Can you feel the tension? Does this resonate with you? When you have been strolling along comfortably in your life, and you are suddenly made aware of some sin. It tends to become more and more and more apparent. Every sermon convicts you. Every comment seems to strike you. And every glance seems accusitory. Your conscience becomes smitten more and more sharply. But as uncomfortable as all of this is, you are aware that making a change is going to be equally as uncomfortable. To do nothing, however, is to never find peace. You will always long to be nearer to God.

A victory . . .
We must jump. And the jump comes with deep deep rewards. I want to share a personal jump that has resulted in much joy. This is what my cliff ledge was composed of: lots of good books from the library, all of which I was eager to read, and all of which would have transported me to a fictionary world, serving as an escape from reality. There were episodes of the Gilmore Girls to watch, or some other television show, empty of meaningful content, but requiring passive attention. And lots of materials to help me indulge in creativity. This, to me, was a most appealing environment, filled with things I love to do. However, most notably absent, are my children and my duties to them.
This is what the jump looked like, when it came: All the books were returned to the library. The Gilmore Girls episodes have remained untouched. And the craft supplies have been religated to naptime.
The rewards have looked and sounded like this: Pillow fights, airplane rides, wrestling, giggles and glee, lots of 'I love you mommy's', a deeper friendship between my two eldest, progress in potty training, deeper God talks with my little people, and a more intimate awareness of who each of my children are. I am falling inlove with them. These rewards will surely sustain me.

And yet I know that it isn't so simple. I will have to wake every morning with fresh resolve and a determination to set aside my natural inclinations, in order that a might choose those things which are more excellent. The fact that I have revisited these ideas over and over again with you through this blog indicates my ongoing struggle. But also attests to God's unfailing attentiveness to us. He is steadfast at His potter's wheel, molding us into better likenesses of his son. The cliff will always try to root me into immobility, like a giant magnet, but because I have the power of the Spirit at my disposal, I will keep making that jump over and over again. Ever higher. Ever more rewarding.