“...when I want to do what is good,

evil lies close at hand...”

Scripture Lesson: Romans 7: 15-25a

Dr. Matthew Brown

July 3, 2005

A few days ago when I plopped down in the driver’s seat of the VW, the physics and science of what makes a car go being the furthest thing from my mind, I turned the key and there was this hesitation before the engine fired. You know, that brief rolling groan that sparks the fear in your mind that you may soon be spending time you don’t have, leafing through an old issue of Popular Mechanics while sitting in the waiting area of a car repair shop.

Well, that little spark of a thought in my mind initiated an odyssey, the details of which I will not bore you with... today, other than to say that I was once again was confronted with the reality that I am a limited, finite individual living in a limited, finite world filled with limited and finite people, and the intersection of those limitations becomes the wellspring for such emotions as: frustration, anger, denial, pride, hopelessness, despair, etc.

You see, my first impulse was to go to one of those places with the big signs in the window that say, “Free battery testing” “Free battery installation”. There’s something about that word “Free” that draws us in like moths to a flame, like onlookers to an accident, like Charlotteans to a shopping mall,... Free.

Free battery testing. Maybe I could be responsible, avoid a jumpstart, avoid a tow truck. Except - and here’s where that whole limited, finite world thing comes in - I couldn’t get my battery tested in the battery store because the battery tester’s battery was dead. I thought, “This is not good.” “This could be bad for business.” Imagine the scene. You sell batteries. You’re standing in front of a wall with batteries stacked to the ceiling, and you can’t test a battery because your battery’s dead. I didn’t, but something in me wanted to say, “Have you thought about trying that one?”

We are finite, limited beings living in a finite, limited world. From the birthing room to the death bed, we spend a whole lot of our breathing days, ignoring or flat out denying that reality. I remember visiting an eighty five year old woman in the Intensive Care Unit who said, “I wish you hadn’t gone to the trouble of traveling to visit me. I’m not that sick.”

Yet, the sooner we acknowledge the reality of our finitude, the sooner we hand over dominion to where it belongs, in the hands of a loving God who is our creator, sustainer, and redeemer.

It is this truth that turns what could be viewed as the most hopeless words of scripture into among the most hopeful words of Scripture.

The Apostle Paul reflects, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate... I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want , but the evil I do not want is what I do... Wretched man that I am...”

Well, have yourself a merry little sabbath, too! I don’t know about you, but when I read this text, I’m thinkin’, “Who is this guy, and how long has he been following me around?” Paul seems to know the patterns in my life pretty well. For if I am, if we are honest, which is the major hurdle in this text and the major obstacle to hearing the good news, we can see that Paul’s words cut open the thin skin of our words and actions, exposing the motivations, the self interest, the sin that lie beneath.

O, some of our sins are blatant and we’ll even own up to them. You want to hurt that person who is on your last nerve, so you say the words that you know will hit their target, and you experience actual physiological symptoms of pleasure when you see the pained expression on his or her face.

Or, you have been hurt and you want revenge, and you vow to yourself and witnesses that you will not rest until you get satisfaction.

However, most of the time our sins are much more subtle. They are no less destructive, but we’ll convince ourselves that our motivations are pure, or at least harmless. We’ll say things like, “I’m not racist, but...” or we’ll soften our insults with those ubiquitous words of denial, “I’m only kidding,” we’ll say.

When we speak of sin, most often what comes to mind is the sins of our neighbors/family/enemies/strangers that make our teeth grind and our hearts seethe when what really needs to come to mind is the dark corner in our own lives that our lips tremble to name.

Barbara Brown Taylor observes, “When I say ‘sin’, there is no telling what you see: the stolen candy bar, the rumpled sheets of a bed shared with someone else’s lover, a large pipe spilling orange sludge into a once-blue river, a clutch of homeless people sitting around a fire built from trash in a vacant lot between two corporate skyscrapers.” The pictures will be different for every one of us.

There is an insidious power at work in us and it is the power of sin. As Paul has said earlier in this same letter, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” From the time we utter that cry of anger toward the nurse who slaps our behind as we exit the birth canal, sin infects our lives.

Theologian John Leith said, “The simple fact is that no child, however fortunate, is born into a situation of innocence, but into a situation in which sin is already present, in which sin limits the possibilities of his or her life and, more than that, corrupts human life.” “The sins of society and the sins of the parents precede the child and corrupt the child.”

Any parent knows you are dealing with the unenlightened when you hear them say, “I love children because they are so innocent.” You’re thinkin’ “O ya, well come on over to my house and spend a couple of hours with “Mr. Innocent,” and I’ll go to a movie.”

We parents play along with the illusion.

Innocent terms - Playdate - Have you ever witnessed one of those things? It’s like a scene from a bad Hollywood Horror Flick. It’s a Primal Screamin’, Arms swingin’, Toy flingin’, Hair Pullin’ extravaganza.

Chlldren of God? Yes. Lovable? Absolutely. Innocent? Not so much.

Playground squabbles, classroom struggles, domestic disputes, courtroom battles, dysfunctional family systems, international conflicts find their genesis in self-interested parties who can see the sins of their neighbors but fail to acknowledge or recognize their own.

Even our best intentions are infected by the sin within us. I can begin the day with the prayer that I would live the day full of compassion, mercy, generosity, and humility and before the taste of my raisin bran is replaced by a hunger for lunch, I’ve judged someone harshly, spent far more time coveting than giving, and sought to impress someone with all the important people I’ve known as though that will make me seem important in their eyes.

Bill O’Brien points out that long before Paul’s time, the Roman writer Horace reflected: “I pursue the things that have done me harm; I shun the things I believe will do me good.”

In the text, Metamorphoses, the ancient writer Ovid put these words in the mouth of mythological Medea:

“I see the right, and I approve it too,

Condemn the wrong - and yet the wrong pursue.”

And, of course, the Apostle Paul chimes in on this ancient human struggle: “In my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?”

Desperate words. Seemingly hopeless words. But, in fact, these words are most hopeful. You see, until we acknowledge that all our actions and even our best intentions are infected by the sin within us, we continue to live under the illusion that we can get life right.

Believe it or not, I find great comfort in this text. That key figure in the early church confesses, “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” Paul’s struggles are my struggles, are your struggles and that confession is the first step toward wholeness, recognizing that it is beyond our power to get life right; that we are dependent on the transforming grace of Jesus Christ, who alone can empower us to do what we cannot do ourselves. The impossible becomes a possibility in Christ.

This is why we open our services with a confession of sin. That acknowledgement of our sin is also a proclamation that it is not by our power but by Christ’s grace that we will move toward wholeness, toward life as God intended for us.

There is a wonderful prayer from the Episcopal church that has been a part of my morning devotion which expresses so well the dynamic of impossibly good intentions becoming possible realities through Christ.

The prayer begins, “I will try this day to live a simple, sincere and serene life, repelling promptly every though of discontent, anxiety, discouragement, impurity, and self-seeking; cultivating cheerfulness, magnamimity, charity, and the habit of holy silence; exercising economy in expenditure, generosity in giving, carefulness in conversation, diligence in appointed service, fidelity to every trust, and a childlike faith in God.

In particular I will try to be faithful in those habits of prayer, work, study, physical exercise, eating, and sleep which I believe the Holy Spirit has shown me to be right.”

Great intentions, but here is the key part of the prayer. “And as I cannot in my own strength do this, nor even with a hope of success attempt it, I look to thee, O Lord God my Father, in Jesus my Savior, and ask for the gift of the Holy Spirit.”

The hopeless becomes hopeful. The impossible becomes a possibility through Christ.

“Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

Amen.

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