pilgrim people

In Chapter 2 of The Gospel-Driven Life, Horton describes the problem to which the gospel is the solution, namely, sin. Titling the chapter, “The Real Crisis,” he explains that the crisis of our sin is far more disastrous than anything reported on CNN. The health care crisis, crisis in the Middle East, financial and educational crises, natural disasters – all of those things are terrible. Yet, none of them compare to the crisis of being under the wrath of a holy God who justly demands from his creatures a righteousness as good as his own.

The crisis of sin is so great that it “could be solved by nothing less than God’s becoming flesh, fulfilling the law and bearing the sentence for its violations in our place, which is the focus of all of Scripture. We may have problems in our marriage, child rearing, stress at work, low self-esteem, and worries about our health or the financial market. However, the ultimate crisis  facing us is summarized in Romans 1:18: ‘For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and wickedness of those who by their wickedness suppress the truth.’” (39) We need to see this big picture, both in law, revealing the greatness of our sin, and in gospel, which tells us the good news that solves the problem. Only then do we get our living straight.

The crisis of our sin, however, is far greater than we realize. It is a crisis that cannot be managed, though we tell ourselves otherwise. Because we do not realize how bad the problem of our sin is, we hunt for good advice to help us manage the crisis of our messy lives. This is why, says Horton, “Pastors have increasingly become experts in crisis management. Some of that is simply part of shepherding a flock, but a lot of it is due to the fact that we expect our pastors to be personal coaches, therapists, and life managers rather than faithful prophets who diagnose our condition and heralds of the Good News that actually solves our deepest crisis.” Moreover, “We will even pay a lot of money to spiritual designers who will help us weave cobwebs to hide our guilt, assisting us in shifting blame tour parents, our circumstances, society, our spouse, and ultimately God.” (49)

This makes us false prophets, priests, and kings. “As false prophets, we lie to ourselves, to others, and to God about who we really are. As false priests, we offer whatever pitiful sacrifices we think might buy God off for a while. As false kings, we seek to dominate rather than serve, expecting everyone – including God – to assume their role in our supporting cast.” (49-50)

That’s right, baby; the crisis is bad...really bad. Even as a Calvinist who has a robust doctrine of sin, I am still amazed by the depths and deceitfulness of sin that causes even Christians – who are new in Christ and indwelled by the Spirit – to think and act like this. The pollution of sin that clings to us throughout our pilgrimage in this life is so strong that we continually look for strategies for self-salvation. But this is entirely the wrong way to manage this crisis. It amounts to giving a band-aid to a person diagnosed with cancer.

This is why we need to hear the law regularly, says Horton. He points out that when the holiness of God is obscured (which happens when the law is not proclaimed in its fullness), the sinful condition is simply adjusted. He suggests three ways in which we are prone to do this:

First, we adjust the condition of our radical corruption to the level of sins. “That is, instead of recognizing that sin is the universal condition of bondage, death, and condemnation from which we cannot extricate ourselves, we reduce it to particular actions or habits that we can be scolded or cheerfully encouraged out of repeating. Symptoms are mistaken for the illness.” In other words, we try to manage the crisis with more law, but it’s more like “law-lite.”

Second, “we treat them primarily as negative behaviors that adversely affect fellow human creatures or our own well-being. For many, especially in our pampered culture, the only law left – and it is a relentless command that generates enormous anxiety – is to take care of oneself. The vertical relation – that makes sin truly sinful – is almost entirely forgotten.” What ends up happening is that we don’t see our so-called ‘negative behaviors’ as being truly evil. Instead, we look at them as minor flaws and mistakes.

Third, “we deflect these sins to ‘outsiders,’ defining them as things that other people do. Depending on your ideology, ‘sinners’ become either Republicans or Democrats, gays or social conservatives, socialists or capitalists, Muslims, Jews, Christians, or secular humanists.” (50) We think that other people need a bath, but not ourselves. “They” are the dirty ones, not us.

All of this comes from failing to take the crisis seriously. And the problem is, as Horton says, “we are not our own best judges. Our own feet smell just fine.” (56)

Ewww. Yet, an apt analogy, no? It makes the point that more introspection, more principles, more law-lite will only drive further within ourselves and lead us to greater self-confidence…and ultimately greater misery. “We cannot diagnose ourselves. When we hear someone who is commissioned by God to deliver his Word after careful preparation and deliberation, our defense mechanisms break down. Our excuses lose their saliency as we are weighed on true scales.” (58) This is why we need to hear preaching that does not present God’s law as a tool to be used, but the rod by which God measures us. Only this drives us to Christ and the good news that alone has the power to transform the heart of a sinner.

If you are not in a church that is preaching law and gospel clearly every week, find one soon. The real crisis is more serious than our deceitful hearts tell us.