Sin.

I have learned a lot about sin in the past couple of years.
While this statement is probably not one that you would like to hear in a letter home from your college-aged child, allow me to explain:

For the later part of my childhood, I grew up in a church-going, before-dinner praying home, so I knew the Jesus spiel. I knew the ABC's of LifeWay's Vacation Bible School (Admit, Believe, Confess), the sinner's prayer, I've witnessed a thousand times the "I see that hand, thank you, yes, I see you..." invitation with "every head bowed and every eye closed." I heard about Adam and Eve, satan and Jesus, Heaven and Hell. But, in retrospect, I am astounded at how little I learned about sin. Now, I know that I have heard many teachings on sin and the depravity of man but it's like there are time locks on certain truths.


No one needed to teach me how to sin.
My family can attest to that. I'm fairly certain that I came out of the womb wreaking havoc. But ever since that day, I was taught how to fix it. I learned about love, grace, forgiveness, propitiation, and redemption. But I can not remember a specific time in my childhood when I was taught about the depravity of my being. I remember being taught that "Man is basically good" is a hellish concept and should be shunned at all costs. But in my mind however, this meant "man is inherently evil, but you are not."

I have been reading Paul's letters lately and he makes it very clear that the law exists to show man how helpless they are without Christ. While I don't think I ever received false teaching as a child, perhaps it was just my own skewed view of the message, I have lived the majority of my life using the law as a voluntary chore chart. When I do something good, I get a star in that box. When I don't, I don't get anything. How backwards is that? The reality is, when you do something good, you don't get anything - you are hitting par. And when you fail, the penalty is death. Death. Not the absence of a gumdrop.


I was drowning,
But I never noticed. Instead I learned to tread water with a cinderblock tied to my leg. I learned how to brave through the sin and keep my head above water, not to cry in defeat and have faith that the Savior that I spent my life studying would rescue me from the depths of my sin. I learned how to quietly cope with my mistakes and personally condone the one's that were socially accepted. I knew the answers to the problem of sin, I just was blind to the fact that I was a victim of it.

We like to get to the good part.
We like getting to tell someone that there is hope, grace, love, peace, and joy for them. But let me remind you, these words mean nothing without the prior knowledge of one's desperate need for them. Redemption is empty until we realize the bondage we are in. Salvation doesn't make sense until we understand we are in captivity. And Grace isn't amazing until we become aware of what we deserve.


Francis Schaeffer once said, "If I had one hour with every man, I would spend the first 45 minutes talking to them about God's law, and the last 15 minutes talking about His great salvation."