At varied factors in my Christian life, I’ve felt my cheeks burn with disgrace as I’ve confronted my sin. I’ve felt humiliated, disenchanted, and typically disgusted with what I’ve executed.
Maybe you’ve felt an identical anguish. You possibly can’t imagine these ugly phrases simply got here out of your mouth. You look again with a way of embarrassment over the way you acted so foolishly towards your dad and mom. You’ve all however despaired over some ongoing sin that you simply can’t appear to admit.
As Christians, we now have all checked out ourselves and felt sorrow over sin. However have we ever deeply thought of why we do it within the first place? Why can we sin?
Looking out Our Previous Sins
In Confessions guide 2, Augustine (354–430) probes for a solution to why we sin by contemplating moments in his personal life. However he does so cautiously, clarifying that he seems again on his previous sin “not for love of them however that I’ll love You, O my God” (2.1.1). He doesn’t peruse previous sins like we muse over outdated images on our telephone, however somewhat, like a health care provider dissecting tissue to find a cancerous tumor, Augustine remembers sin with a purpose to uncover its root trigger. With Augustine, we should always gaze on the darkness of previous sin solely to raised perceive our personal hearts and, most significantly, to see the brightness of Christ’s mercy extra clearly.
Augustine takes us again to his teenage years when his “delight was to like and to be liked.” But he “couldn’t distinguish the white gentle of affection from the fog of lust” (2.2.2). As he recounts how his “youthful immaturity” swept him away into “the insanity of lust,” we count on him to cease and analyze the sinful motives behind his lusts. However he doesn’t. He turns as an alternative, nearly abruptly, to a really completely different type of teenage sin: stealing pears together with his friends as a prank (2.4.9).
“Behind each sin — from delight to greed to anger — is a perverse need to mimic God.”
Augustine labors to know this seemingly trivial sin to such an extent that some have frightened he veers into scrupulosity. But he isn’t troubled with doubts about whether or not he sinned, because the overly scrupulous are. Somewhat, he struggles with understanding why he dedicated the sin in any respect. What motivated his teenage self to steal with such mindless disregard for God’s legislation in opposition to theft (Exodus 20:15)?
Why Steal Pears?
Augustine makes clear immediately that the issue together with his theft of the pears was that the pears themselves weren’t the issue. He had no need for the pears. The pears weren’t pretty, and he had even higher ones again at residence. Nor did he steal as a result of he was hungry: he and his buddies simply threw them to the pigs after they’d stolen them. So, why did he do it? Why steal one thing you don’t even need and received’t even use?
Earlier than Augustine describes two motives for why he stole the pears, he considers what often entices us to sin: disordered need for in any other case good issues. Our attraction to magnificence, our enjoyment of bodily pleasures, and our satisfaction in success all turn out to be distorted after we love them aside from God. Just like the prodigal son demanding his inheritance so he might run from his father (Luke 15:11–32), we sin after we spurn the Giver and selfishly love his items.
We will discern in disordered wishes a sure logic to sin, even to a heinous sin like homicide. Augustine factors to Cataline, the archetypal Roman villain, to underscore that even in committing homicide “he liked another factor which was his purpose for committing [his crimes]” (2.5.11). In our egocentric pursuits, we might even commit homicide to get what we wish or shield what we’re afraid to lose.
However in Augustine’s case, he wasn’t motivated by a nefarious aim past the theft or by distorted love for the sweetness of the pears. Somewhat, he says, he desired the sweetness of sin itself.
For the Thrill
When he considers why he stole the pears, he first says his “solely pleasure in doing it was that it was forbidden” (2.4.9). The reward of the theft was not the pears however the stealing itself — “the joys of performing in opposition to [God’s] legislation” (2.6.14). Augustine discerns one thing deeper within the thrill, although, than the racing heartbeat and giddy delight of getting away with a prank. Behind the joys is similar need to “be like God” that drove Adam and Eve to sin (Genesis 3:5). Even in revolt, Augustine says, man is “perversely imitating [God]” (2.6.14).
Behind each sin — from delight to greed to sinful anger — is a perverse need to mimic God. Delight, for example, “wears the masks of loftiness of spirit,” despite the fact that God alone is excessive over every little thing (2.6.13). Greed hungers to own greater than it ought to, but God possesses every little thing. Sinful anger seeks vengeance, however God alone can justly avenge. Subsequently, we discover a sure thrill within the forbidden exactly as a result of, in pretending to be all-powerful, we perversely imitate God.
Such a perverse need to be godlike, although, will not be glad with sinning solo.
For the Fellowship
Our perverse imitation of God desires an viewers. Augustine insists (three completely different instances) that “I’m altogether sure that I’d not have executed it alone” (2.8.16). “Maybe,” he pauses to think about, “what I actually liked was the companionship.” However no, he lastly concludes, “for the reason that pleasure I acquired was not within the pears, it should have been within the crime itself, and put there by the companionship of others sinning with me” (2.8.16). Augustine means that the nice need for fellowship with others, which symbolizes the last word fellowship loved by God in his Trinitarian relations, turns into a perverse need when it leads us into sin.
“Discovering the madness of sin turns us again to the immeasurable mercy of Christ.”
These two motives — the joys of transgression and friendship with fellow sinners — intertwine to maneuver him to steal the pears. They go collectively as a result of the sensation of a pretended omnipotence is consummated by the reward of others. The fun of stealing, then, was not sufficient to inspire Augustine’s sin. Companionship provides the pleasure of reward to the joys of the theft and turns into, in Augustine’s phrases, “friendship unfriendly” (2.9.17).
But, in naming these two motives, Augustine doesn’t imagine he has defined absolutely why he stole the pears.
Our ‘Complicated Twisted Knottedness’
Whilst Augustine lays out the 2 causes for his theft, he asks himself, “What was my feeling in all this?” He wonders together with the psalmist, “Who can perceive his errors?” (Psalm 19:12 KJV). Augustine acknowledges that, at backside, sin is persistently perplexing. Even a comparatively trivial sin like a prank leaves Augustine unsure concerning the root motive. Augustine’s evaluation concurrently reveals man’s need for God even in our sinning and acknowledges man’s lack of ability to elucidate why we pursue that need for God by turning away from him.
What’s lastly inexplicable, then, about our sin will not be that we sin with out causes however that these causes don’t finally make sense. Any try and peel again the layers of sinful motives ends in futility as a result of figuring out an authentic motive for evil is like making an attempt to “hear silence” or “see darkness” (Metropolis of God, 12.7). We can’t see what will not be there or hear what doesn’t sound. Augustine factors to a perverse imitation of God because the driving motive behind all vices, however why we need to perversely imitate God within the first place is finally inexplicable.
Augustine feels the anguish of his inexplicable root motive when he exclaims, “Who can unravel that complicated twisted knottedness?” (2.10.18). His anguish echoes Paul’s exclamation, “Wretched man that I’m! Who will ship me from this physique of demise?” (Romans 7:24). Like Paul, Augustine seems to Christ’s mercy (Romans 7:25).
Discovering the madness of sin turns us again to the immeasurable mercy of Christ. Simply as a baby who has made a large number of his downside runs to his father or mother for assist, so too we should run to God for mercy from the mess we’ve made. We won’t try this, although, if we don’t really feel the desperation of our state of affairs. The entire of Confessions, says biographer Peter Brown, is “the story of Augustine’s ‘coronary heart,’ or of his ‘emotions’ — his affectus” (Augustine of Hippo, 163). Within the story of stealing the pears, Augustine feels — and helps us really feel — the anguish of our inexplicable resolution to show away from God. He reveals the depths out of which we cry to God for assist.
Prodigal’s Return
In our sin, we’d like the desperation of the prodigal son who, after he squandered all his inheritance, acknowledges his solely hope is to return to his father (Luke 15:17–19). Or just like the psalmist who calls to the Lord for mercy from the abyss of his sin (Psalm 130:1–2), we too should flip to God with hope-filled pleas for mercy. “For with the Lord there may be steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption” (Psalm 130:7). We have now been led by the madness of sin to run from our Father, however he’s prepared and desperate to run to us, brimming with forgiveness.
Augustine’s remaining paragraph attracts us away from the darkness of our sin to gaze, by the mercy of Christ, on the great thing about God’s holiness:
Who can unravel this most snarled, knotty tangle? It’s disgusting, and I don’t need to take a look at it or see it. O justice and innocence, truthful and beautiful, it’s on you that I need to gaze with eyes that see purely and discover satiety in by no means being sated. With you is relaxation and tranquil life. Whoever enters into you enters the enjoyment of his Lord; there he’ll concern nothing and discover his personal supreme good in God who’s supreme goodness. (2.10.18; trans. Boulding)
God’s full forgiveness restores us to relaxation with him perpetually. So, as you search your previous or current sins, discover hope in your Father’s “plentiful redemption.”
