conviction.

This week our Bible study talked about premeditated sin. Truthfully, our student-leader, Laura, called it something much more intelligent and theological, but the term escapes me at the moment.

The point, though—the bare bones of it—was that we take advantage of grace. We take advantage of this gift we’ve been given because it’s free. It’s easy. It’s abundant. It’s accessible. It’s abused.

In Monopoly, if I hit ‘Go Straight to Jail,’ I’ve practically lost nothing but my ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card. We walk around this life as though we have a never-ending supply of ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ cards.

And that’s the truth, really, except that we’re warned against this very thing.

We’re grateful for grace because we need it desperately. Even at our best, we need it. Because we’re flawed. Broken. Beyond repair—except for the love of a Savior. And so we are given grace as a pardon for our depraved natures, not as an excuse for our unreformed lifestyles.

Do we mess up? Yes, absolutely, without a doubt. But do we PLAN to mess up? Do we knowingly live out a lifestyle contrary to what we, believers, are called to live? Every single day.

The question posed at Bible study with this: are we banking on grace? Do we knowingly use it as a “Freebie” to dabble in darkness?

I saw this little “poem” online once-upon-a-time. I can’t remember where, although I would bet it was someone’s Facebook status. It’s cringe-worthy at first, but then you’ll realize that’s it an unspoken mantra, whatever the subject matter, of us all:

Sex is evil… Evil is sin.

Sin is forgiven… so sex is in.

Pick your poison and replace “sin” with it, and voila—tell me that we don’t live our lives that way, whether it’s sex, gossip, gluttony, profanity, and so on and so on. As we bank on grace, we excuse ourselves to live no differently from the world, even when we’re commanded to be light and salt.

What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?

Romans 6:1-2, NIV

The other line of defense for this habitual sin lifestyle we choose is that we “can’t go back.” I hear from time to time, even from my own mouth, “I can’t help being a gossip. I was just born nosey.” So many times I’ve heard friends say, “I’ve already crossed that line; there’s no going back.” If your life were a Tylenol bottle with a safety seal, your logic would be right. Once the seal is broken, the product should be discarded. In actuality, we came to this earth with seals broken, worthy of being trashed.  As believers, though, we have redemption from this fate. We have been sealed by Christ, and yet we continue to act as though we’re one step further than His grace can cover. We are fortunate to serve a God that separates our sins from us as far as the East is from the West, but instead we cling to that, holding it to us as though we can’t let it go. As though our sin is bigger than our God. It’s insulting to God and the magnitude of the sacrifice He made on the cross to save us from the very thing we find ourselves clinging to. It’s like saying, “I really appreciate Your hard work and all—that whole death on the cross was great work, really—but I’m just going to hold onto this until something better comes along.”

Would I say it to His face? Absolutely not. But my actions say it everyday, and you know what they say—Actions speak louder than words.

I’ve been thinking about this because my spiritual life has the tendency to fall into a list of to-dos. Am I doing my quiet time? Check. Am I going to church every Sunday? Check. Am I participating in a small group? Check and check. Look how good I am! But am I getting better? Good is great, but is it good enough? Am I doing enough? Am I settling for good when my Savior deserves my best? Because faith is dead without works—there’s actually some effort required on my part, albeit outrageously low considering how great a debtor I am.

Just some thoughts on sinning by someone who knows the art of sinning well.