The basic problem, it would seem, is that it is too easy to sin.
This morning, I was struck by the disparity between what I read in the media and what I encountered in my daily Bible reading.
In the press, yet another heartbreaking scandal from the Church of England is exposed. A former rector of a prominent evangelical church in Oxford is alleged to have been sexually abusive, coercive, and controlling towards women and girls. Such revelations are devastating, not only for the victims but also for the integrity of the Church. They call us to grieve, to repent, and to commit afresh to accountability and healing.
And yet, I had just read how the apostle Peter describes the Church, the community of Jesus' disciples: “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession” (1 Peter 2:9).
The tension is stark. As I reflected in a previous blog, the Church has always been in a mess. From its earliest days, New Testament churches grappled with divisions, moral failings, and conflicts. The Corinthian church, for example, was plagued with immorality, pride, and disunity, yet Paul still addressed them as "sanctified in Christ Jesus and called to be his holy people" (1 Corinthians 1:2).
Sadly, it’s too easy for us to sin. It's not as if we immediately go blind or the roof falls in. Sin has consequences, often stretching over generations, but they aren't always immediate or dramatic. More often, they’re like an electric shock—sudden and painful, but not always life-changing unless we heed the warning.
The Holy Spirit is not training us like animals with immediate rewards or punishments. “Don’t be like a senseless horse or mule that has to have a bit in its mouth to keep it in line,” urges the psalmist (Psalm 32:9). His purpose is far more ambitious—to make us more like Jesus, so we naturally and joyfully live lives that honour God.
So where does He start?
As always, He begins at the cross of Jesus, where sin is both exposed and disarmed. Fleming Rutledge writes, “That is one of the most important reasons—perhaps the most important—that Jesus was crucified, for no other mode of execution would have been commensurate with the extremity of humanity’s condition under Sin.”
Notice her capitalisation of "Sin," almost personifying it as a power that seeks to wreck God’s good creation. We are, as Paul teaches, slaves to Sin. It speaks; we jump.
Only when we turn to Christ as our Saviour, secure in his love, do we begin to fully realise the nature and power of Sin. We name it for what it is—rebellion against God.
And that’s where we start—at the cross of Jesus. There, we confront the truth about ourselves and begin to comprehend God’s incredible love for us. There, we find both the gravity of our sin and the boundless depth of God's mercy.
Often, God waits until we hit rock bottom. I once blogged about a friend who rescued a surfer being dragged out to sea by a rip current. He had to wait until the swimmer stopped struggling—almost drowning—before pulling him to safety. Otherwise, they both would have been dragged under. Sometimes, we’re that swimmer.
And then the Holy Spirit begins His work. Paul writes, “It’s rotten through and through. Get rid of it! And then take on an entirely new way of life—a God-fashioned life, a life renewed from the inside and working itself into your conduct as God accurately reproduces his character in you” (Ephesians 4:22-24).
God accepts an awesome challenge: making us more like Jesus. He provides the resources—fellowship with other Christians where we are held accountable, the encouragement of Scripture, the wonder of prayer, the nourishment of Holy Communion, and the challenge of Christian service where we learn to rely on God’s promises in our weakness.
It’s an awesome challenge, especially if we have been sinned against, even from previous generations. Tragically, many who abuse have themselves been abused. The Church is called to be a refuge, a place where the wounded are welcomed and cared for.
But we must remember: Sin doesn’t go away. It doesn’t give up. It may be a defeated enemy whose days are numbered, but in the meantime, we must remain vigilant.
Peter knew the power of Sin and his own weakness. So he writes, “Keep a cool head. Stay alert. The Devil is poised to pounce and would like nothing better than to catch you napping. Keep your guard up” (1 Peter 5:8).
Sadly, as we see all too often, some disciples fail to keep their guard up. We never reach a stage in this life where we are immune to temptation.
And yet, Peter continues, “It won’t be long before this generous God who has great plans for us in Christ—eternal and glorious plans they are!—will have you put together and on your feet for good. He gets the last word; yes, he does” (1 Peter 5:9).
There lies our hope. God has the last word, even for frail, wayward followers like us. “Well done, faithful servant!”
In the end, our story isn’t defined by our failures but by God’s faithfulness. At the cross, Sin is exposed and defeated, and in Christ, hope has the final word.
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