Tag: Change

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What King David and Philemon have in Common

A friend of mine started a church in Canada years ago that God blessed with many conversions. It became over 500 hundred attenders that were mostly new believers. Laura and I were able to do two marriage conferences there over the years, and it was so encouraging to see how teachable and hungry the people were. Often what we taught was the first time they had ever heard it, and they just assumed that if the Bible says that, they need to obey it. It was so much fun.

This same pastor friend said that one time they started a small group for men struggling with pornography. Again, lots of new believers who don’t know how church is done. They don’t know they are supposed to pretend they don’t struggle with lust. The church announced it and put a sign up on the church bulletin board and MEN SIGNED UP! I cannot imagine that happening in the churches I’ve known. Most Christians are way too private about their spiritual lives, and especially their spiritual failures. Would men sign up at your church where others could see their names?

I’ve been thinking about two passages in the Bible that seem to have a commonality that I never noticed before. Psalm 51 is a familiar psalm that we recognize as David’s song of repentance after his sin with Bathsheba. I’ve read it many times for my own soul’s benefit, and I’ve pointed others to it to encourage repentance.

But recently I thought about it as an example of David’s transparency about a major failure. The superscription says David wrote it after Nathan came to him after he had gone in to Bathsheba. The superscription is not subtle—it doesn’t say that David wrote this after some general failure in his life, but it specifically tells us and anyone who has read it over the years that it was David’s sin with Bathsheba—his adultery and murder.

That is incredibly transparent. We don’t like to admit our failures in specific, and David does here. Think about this: David intended this to be sung about his sin. He didn’t just admit it to a few trusted friends. He wrote a song about it. Why was King David so honest in his confession? Well he was clearly more concerned with repentance than covering up. It’s one reason we know his repentance was genuine.

The second passage was in Philemon where Paul appeals on behalf of the converted slave, Onesimus. In verse 2 Paul says that this letter was also written to Aphia, who was probably Philemon’s wife, and Archippus. Now who is Archippus? He most likely was a church leader either at Colosse or Laodicea.

See what Paul has done? He knew how Philemon should respond to his runaway slave, Onesimus, now that Onesimus is saved and growing. He wanted Philemon to forgive Onesimus. He even claims that he could have commanded Philemon to do this, but he wanted Philemon to do it on his own, not from compulsion (verses 8-9).

But Paul does apply some good pressure on Philemon to choose forgiveness, and one way he does that is by including Archippus as a recipient of the letter. Archippus would know how Paul appealed to Philemon. So this decision wasn’t just between Paul, Philemon, and even Onesimus (who probably brought the letter), but also included Archippus.

Philemon might have liked to consider this by himself, but Paul doesn’t allow that.

The connection between these two passages is transparency. David chose to be honest and open about his sin—can’t get much more open than writing a song about it. And Philemon was forced to be open and honest about his need to forgive Onesimus.

Your spiritual life is not yours alone. The entire church is invested. You should welcome opportunities to be honest about your struggles with sin. That encourages and edifies others and it leads you to humility—always a needed virtue (Jam 4:6). And you should welcome the intrusion of other believers who help you see your sin and plead with you to change. Just-Jesus-and-you Christianity is not biblical Christianity.

I want my church to be full of people that are not hiding their sin. I want them to be so secure in their identity in Christ that they don’t care what others know about them. And I want my church to be full of Christians that are willing, like Paul, to encourage each other to please God. And if I’m going to have a church like that, I need model that in my relationships. A step towards honesty and transparency feels risky, but it is a good step—just look at King David and Philemon.

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What Does It Mean to Own Your Sin?

My bike got stolen. When I was a kid my Dad bought a new 24” bike for me from Kmart with only a few stipulations. I was supposed to lock it up each night in the garage. This was the era when Huffy made bikes that looked like dirt bikes. Mine was black and had racing numbers on it. It was cool!

Well, I didn’t lock it up every night. I left it in the yard overnight regularly, and one night it disappeared. A second stipulation was that if it got stolen, my dad wouldn’t buy me another one. I was on my own. I spent a summer running everywhere and earning money for a new bike. Finally I had enough to buy a 10-speed. I didn’t lock it in the garage; I brought it into the house, down the stairs, and into the basement every night. Yes, every night. And it never got stolen. I still had it when I went to college. I was responsible for that bike. I owned it. You could say I owned the one that was stolen, but I violated the first rule of ownership—I didn’t take responsibility for it.

What does it mean to own your sin? Someone asked me this. I told them that owning his sin would make his marriage better, and he thoughtfully asked what does that mean?

I’ve also had a Christian not like that word. They told me that their sin doesn’t identify them anymore, and it’s forgiven, so why should they own it? I’m using the word not as an identity statement, but referring to responsibility. Do you take responsibility for your sin?

And I think owning is an illustrative metaphor for that idea. If you own a car, you are responsible for it. You have to make the payments, get the insurance, and get it new tires when it needs them. No one else is responsible for your car, only you. No one else is responsible for your sin, only you are.

Ezekiel taught us this in a graphic way.

“The person who sins will die. The son will not bear the punishment for the father’s iniquity, nor will the father bear the punishment for the son’s iniquity; the righteousness of the righteous will be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked will be upon himself. Ezekiel 18:20 (NASB95)

So if owning my sin is taking responsibility for it, then what are some signs I’m owning my sin?

You Don’t Point Fingers

There is no sin against me that excuses my sin. There are some awful, tragic ways that sinners sin against each other. I’m not dismissing those at all. But I cannot excuse my sin because of someone else’s sin. No sin against you justifies your sin.

So owning my sin means I don’t point fingers at others. I don’t look at their sin against me or their “worse” sin as making mine acceptable.

This is especially tempting in marriage. Families like to point fingers at each other and justify themselves. The husband says he wouldn’t be sarcastic if his wife didn’t embarrass him in front of others. She says she wouldn’t yell if her kids would just do what they’re told. And the kids claim they wouldn’t be so disrespectful if their dad wasn’t so passive. Everyone is pointing fingers at someone else. Every family can become the Spider-man Pointing meme.

So where are you pointing fingers at others?

You Don’t Resent Accountability

We need accountability. We need another Christian to care enough to tell us that we are wrong in a gentle but firm way. We need intervention. We need other believers.

But we don’t like accountability. We don’t want to be asked tough questions. We don’t want others intruding into our lives and expecting us to change. But God expects us to change. He commands intervention (Gal 6).

Accountability doesn’t work if the person being held accountable doesn’t want it. Paul Tripp has said that you cannot hold a runner accountable. They need rebuke. A sinner that owns their sin doesn’t run. They expect to be called on their sin. They hate their sin and want to be rid of it.

The sinner that owns their sin will appreciate, yes appreciate, accountability.

So where are you resisting accountability? Where do you think accountability is good for others, but not for you?

You Don’t Fight Consequences

Often when we fight consequences we are downplaying how serious our sin is. This is why the formerly adulterous husband can cringe when his wife asks where he’s been. This is why the teen who has asked for help with his pornography can still fight losing his phone privileges. This is why the addict can fight giving up his credit cards and cash and living on an allowance.

We all like to believe that when others commit the same sin, their version of it was worse than ours and deserves consequences. But our sin… no way. Why can’t those around you see that you’ve changed and remove the consequences? That’s how we like to think. But when I own my sin, I know there are consequences. And I’m okay with that. I’ve earned them.

Where are you fighting consequences? Where do you think your consequences are too harsh?

You Don’t Completely Forget the Past

The Apostle Paul did tell us that he forgot those things behind (Phil 3:13-14), but he couldn’t have meant that he forgot all about his past at all times. We know this because he’s also the apostle that told us about his life before Christ. His forgetting didn’t mean never remembering it. 

Paul also regularly reminded us of who we were (Eph 2:1-3; Col 1:13, 21, etc.) before Christ. Why would he do that if we’re supposed to completely forget the past?

So the Christian that owns their sin doesn’t completely forget the past. They don’t live in it, but they also know that remembering who they were humbles them. Remembering how they blew it can protect them from it happening again. After all, without God’s grace it could happen again. In your own strength, you are the person that could commit that sin.

Where are you desperately trying to forget the past? Where are you too quick to believe you are not at all that person anymore?

I’m sure there are more signs of owning our sin, but these are enough to challenge me. Do you own your sin?

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Playing with a Tiger

How Does Sin Deceive?

But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. Hebrews 3:13 (ESV)

Siegfried and Roy made careers out of performing with their white tigers for the entertainment of Las Vegas tourists. And they were unique in that these were dangerous wild animals, and the audience wasn’t separated from these big cats. They performed thousands of times with 1500 people in the audience without incident until a show in 2003 when Roy was mauled and carried off stage by one of the tigers. He never performed again. You can treat tigers like pets, and they certainly did have amazing success with them for decades, but they were still wild animals. Watching the show an audience member could probably have believed that they were just big, impressive house pets. But they were not.

Sin is like that wild tiger.

This image was generated by AI.

I was counseling a man once, and I spent some time in Hebrews 3:13 talking about how our sin deceives us. We need other believers to help us see what we cannot see. He asked why I thought to talk on this, and I told him it’s because his sin deceives him (and my sin deceives me). It’s a regular occurrence for us, and realizing it helps unmask it.

What makes sin’s deception worse is you also conspire with your sin. Your sin is not some outside enemy trying to breach the walls of your heart. It’s in your heart, and you like to live in darkness. We are natural-born hiders. We love having a reputation that we don’t deserve. We love pretending we’re something we are not. So your sin deceives you, but it often has a willing accomplice in you.

So how does our sin deceive us? The author of Hebrews claims it does and that we need other Christians to help us see it. In fact, we need their intervention on a daily basis. But what does that deception look like? Hebrews 3:13 doesn’t get specific, but I believe there are several ways that sin deceives us.

Your Sin Deceives You About Its Existence

You sin in ways that you don’t even know. There are things that are sin in your life, but you don’t know they are there yet. We’ve probably all had this experience when reading God’s Word or hearing a sermon in church—our eyes are opened by the Holy Spirit to a sin that we never saw before. It reminds me of Psalm 19.

Who can discern his errors? Declare me innocent from hidden faults. Psalm 19:12 (ESV)

We have hidden faults that are hidden from us. Sin is happy to hide in plain sight in our lives. It’s happy to hide in the dark in our lives. Sin just loves to hide and make us believe that it’s not there at all.

Your Sin Deceives You About Its Extent

Sin lies to you. Even when you see your sin, your sin is working to deceive you. It’s only admitting what you see. It’s saying, “Nothing else to see here. Keep walking.” So you see your problem with authority at work, but you don’t see it in how you ignore city ordinances about your yard. You are aware of your selfishness in serving around the home, but you don’t see it in your lack of financial generosity. You see how your fear of man has kept you from sharing the gospel, but you don’t see how it has kept you from ministry in the church. You see how your anxiety has made you sick, but you don’t see how it has led you to doubt God’s goodness.

The sin that you do see is far more pervasive and extensive than you know. Your sin has roots throughout your heart. Sin deceives you.

Your Sin Deceives You About Its Seriousness

We downplay our sin. I don’t believe that my sin is that serious. Yours probably is, but I’ve got mine under control.

Sin is always serious. Jesus had to die for it. God’s wrath was justly applied to Jesus for your sin. That means that your light besetting sin is not something that doesn’t matter. It does. And it’s our familiarity with certain sins that probably leads us to downplay how severe they are. If there is an eternal penalty for it, it’s not a mild thing. Sin hides in plain sight by pretending to be docile and meek when it’s actually deadly.

Your sin wants you to think it’s no big deal. Let it live a while longer. Play with it. No! John Owen was right when he said, “Be killing sin, or sin will be killing you.” You need to kill it. It is serious.

Your Sin Deceives You About Its Effects or Consequences

This is an especially popular lie of sin in an age when we believe that our sin only affects us. If it’s a private sin, then what harm is it actually doing? The young person soaking up pornography night after night doesn’t see how it distorts his view of people. He no longer loves his neighbor, he only lusts after his neighbor. The husband who silently stews over offenses rather than yelling doesn’t think that the silent treatment harms his family relationships, but it does. His wife and children live fearful and wondering why dad is so mad. Many marriages have seen a creeping distance develop because one or both spouses didn’t think this or that sin was that important. They weren’t relentless in killing sin.

And where sin most lies to us about its effects is in our relationship with God. Our sin pushes us away from intimacy with the One who created us.

If I had cherished iniquity in my heart, the Lord would not have listened. Psalm 66:18 (ESV)

Our sin lets us pretend that everything is fine with God when it is absolutely not fine. This is why some that quit attending church during Covid have said “I’m doing better spiritually now than I was when I was attending church.” That’s not possible (Heb 10:25), but sin is a deceiver. It makes you believe that your sin has had no effect on your closeness with God.

Your Sin Deceives You About Its Danger

This is where sin is most like playing with a wild animal. It’s as if we’re all playing with full grown tigers. Just because the tiger hasn’t turned on us yet doesn’t meant it’s not dangerous. It doesn’t mean it’s not deadly.

The iniquities of the wicked ensnare him, and he is held fast in the cords of his sin. Prov 5:22 (ESV)

I’ve always imagined sewing thread being wrapped around us one strand at a time as a picture of Prov 5:22. Sure three, four, maybe even eight strands I can break. But even sewing thread wrapped around you enough times will bind you. That’s the danger of sin. It lets you believe that you’re in control while it slowly strangles you. When you finally realize it, it could be too late.

Jesus in his Sermon on the Mount said,  

If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell. 30 And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into hell. Matthew 5:29–30 (ESV)

Your sin is so dangerous according to Jesus, that it requires radical steps to deal with it.

Your sin lies to you. And here’s a prime example of its deception. It’s when you read this entire blog, and you think of others that need to hear this. Not you. You don’t need this, but that other Christian you’re thinking of does.

Is there some sin that you’ve been playing with? Have you been deceived?

God wants you to be holy (1 Peter 1:14-16). Sin is serious. It’s not a trifling matter. Put your sin to death. Kill it or it will kill you.

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Teaching or Relational Pastor, Which Are You?

Some wag said that there are two types of people in the world, those that divide people into two types and those that don’t. I guess I’m the former. Every pastor has strengths and weaknesses. Lately, one way I’ve been dividing them into two types is that some pastors are great in content and others are great relationally. Content pastors are better at teaching. Relational pastors are better at shepherding.

One of my best friends since college is so gifted relationally. There is no one at his church that doesn’t like him. He’s not a people-pleaser—far from it. He’s just really good at loving people. That is where I work at growing. I can turn it on for a while, but not indefinitely. Because I believe I’m supposed to love people (2nd Great Commandment), I do intentionally move towards people, but it’s tiring for me. My friend is energized by people.

Teaching and preaching are what I am wired to do. I love the study. I don’t have to push myself to study for my sermon. It is hard, but it’s not something that I delay or procrastinate. When I was a pastor, I most often started work on my sermon on Monday. But I might procrastinate seeking out the member whose need is real, but not urgent.

I wonder if the pastors that plagiarize their sermons are relational pastors? That’s a real thing in the age of Google, which I find astounding. Some pastors steal the sermons of others and present it as their own material. Why? Maybe there’s always another person to shepherd. They always have time for people. They move towards people while the study desk gathers dust.

I prefer the study.

I tend to be driven by my schedule and to do list, and the biggest thing on my to do list every week as a pastor was being ready to preach on Sunday. When I was an assistant pastor, my senior pastor poked his head in my office and said, “Kraig, people aren’t an interruption to the ministry; they are the ministry.” I think about that often. You don’t shepherd from the pulpit. You have to be with the sheep. I have to be with the sheep.

The extremes of this dichotomy are probably not true for any pastor. There are shades of in between where we all live. But which one are you drawn toward? Do you find it easy to be with people? Would you rather go for coffee than shut yourself up in your study? Or do you love the preparation for the public ministry of the Word?

If teaching is your strength, you probably need to intentionally move towards people. If relationships are your strength, you probably need to purposely move towards the study. Thinking about your weakness will help your ministry have better balance.

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A Simple Mark of Biblical Wisdom

For five summers during and after college I worked at a Christian camp in northern Wisconsin. The staff were mainly other single college kids like me, and we had plenty of energy by the weekend. One time a friend and I came across an old mining cave in a town not far from the camp. The fact that it had a fence around it with a No Trespassing sign just made it more tempting to us. It wasn’t a huge cave; it went in probably 50 feet, but it was a neat find that had an element of danger to it that was attractive to two young men.

My friend, Will, and I came up with a plan for showing some fellow camp counselors the cave on the next weekend and making it even more exciting. We decided we’d bring four or five female staff members there and stage a hold up with some guy staff members playing the role of hoodlums. To say this was not wise is an understatement; however, at the time it seemed like a surefire, exciting experience for us.

The first indication that this wasn’t a good idea was that several of the girls didn’t like the idea of climbing a barb wire fence with a No Trespassing sign on it. We convinced them it was okay and kept going into the cave. A second indication was just inside the entrance there was a huge boulder that wasn’t there the first time we came. It fell out of the ceiling in the intervening time! But we pressed on.

Soon our friends came into the cave behind us with ski masks on and started threatening Will and me. I was further in the cave and coincidentally had my girlfriend on one side and my ex-girlfriend on the other side of me. Both grabbed my closest arm, and they were both crying. My ex was whispering, “Dear Jesus please protect us” over and over and over. My girlfriend was shaking which I mistook at the time for sobbing. This was when it finally dawned on me that this was a dumb idea. I literally had no idea up to that point that some girls’ greatest fear is being assaulted.

The “hoodlums” demanded money and pushed Will around. At that point my girlfriend grabbed the stocking cap off of one of them and said, “Is this Danny?” What I thought was my girlfriend sobbing was actually her stifling giggles.[1]That girlfriend eventually became my wife and has been for 30 years. 🙂 But she was the only one. The rest of the girls did not forgive Will and me for quite a while.

That was a foolish idea from beginning to end. It was illegal (climbing over the fence), unsafe physically, unsafe emotionally, and unkind.

You know what Will and I didn’t do? We didn’t run this idea past our Camp Director, or Program Director, or really anyone that might have told us no. Why? Well we really didn’t want to hear anyone that would push back on our idea. We didn’t want to listen. We had a week to plan this, and at no time did we ask a more mature person what they thought of this idea.

There’s one chief characteristic of the wise person over the foolish person in the Book of Proverbs, and it’s simply this: wise people listen. Foolish people don’t listen. You can really summarize Proverbs that way. A wise son or daughter listens. That is taught by how often Solomon tells his sons to hear him. [2]All passages from the ESV.

Hear, my son, your father’s instruction, and forsake not your mother’s teaching…. Prov 1:8
My son, be attentive to my words; incline your ear to my sayings. Prov 4:20  (cf. 4:1, 10; 5:1; 5:7; 7:24; 23:19)

We’re taught this when wisdom is personified in chapter eight and tells the naive to hear her.

Hear, for I will speak noble things, and from my lips will come what is right, Prov 8:6
Blessed is the one who listens to me, watching daily at my gates, waiting beside my doors. Prov 8:34  

We’re taught this truth generally.

The ear that listens to life-giving reproof will dwell among the wise. Prov 15:31 
Incline your ear, and hear the words of the wise, and apply your heart to my knowledge, Prov 22:17 (cf. 23:9; 25:12)

But most clearly it’s taught when fools and wise people are contrasted.

The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice. Prov 12:15  
A wise son hears his father’s instruction, but a scoffer does not listen to rebuke. Prov 13:1  

There are other marks of wisdom in Proverbs—the fear of the Lord is the foundation of wisdom for example (Prov 1:7). But the primary mark is a wise person listens.

It’s easy for us forget this simple lesson. Give me a little ministry success, a little success in my family, maybe some actual spiritual growth over a besetting sin, and I start to think that I don’t have to listen. I can become less teachable. Not really unteachable, but I’m less teachable. I start to pick and choose whom I hear. Those that I think are spiritually less than me I ignore. I think “What could they teach me?” I become more defensive. I don’t hear rebukes (Prov 13:1) because I don’t think I could need them.

Are you in a spiritual place where you can listen to others? The foolish son doesn’t listen. Neither does the foolish parent. He’s condescending to those that share truth with him. Heed the Book of Proverbs. You must be a person that hears wisdom, that seeks for wisdom. Be a listener; be teachable, and you will also be wise.

My son, if you receive my words and treasure up my commandments with you, making your ear attentive to wisdom and inclining your heart to understanding; yes, if you call out for insight and raise your voice for understanding, if you seek it like silver and search for it as for hidden treasures, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God. For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding…. Prov 2:1–6

References

References
↑1 That girlfriend eventually became my wife and has been for 30 years. 🙂
↑2 All passages from the ESV.