If we say, “We have no sin,” we are deceiving ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say, “We have not sinned,” we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. [1 John 1:8-10 (CSB)]
Flawed people that we are, we want to play down our culpability before God by minimizing sin and thinking of some sins as less significant than others. We’d like to think if we avoid the “big ten” Moses brought down from Mt. Sinai that we’re good and righteous people. God didn’t stop telling us how to behave with those two tablets! What about the hundreds of commands we find in the New Testament? Can we truthfully say we do nothing “out of selfish ambition or conceit” while we do everything “without grumbling and arguing?” [Phil 2:3,14] Are we ever conceited, boastful, or envious? [Gal 5:26] Do we show favoritism or partiality? [James 2:3-4] How are we doing in the loving our enemies and praying for them, forgiveness, and self-denial departments? [Matt 5:22,44;16:24] Are we truly free of “malice, all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and all slander”? [1 Pet 2:1] Those sins are no less an affront to God than worshipping an idol or murdering a spouse. Every sin we commit damages our relationship with God.
Nevertheless, we tend to consider certain sins (like murder or having an extramarital affair) as “felonies” while a little cheating on our taxes or lusting after the blond at work are mere “misdemeanors.” In spite of Jesus’ words about anger and lust in Matthew 5, we more readily ignore and excuse our road rage or wandering eye than we would the “big” sins of murder or adultery. What we forget when we define sins as being big or small, major or minor, mortal or venial, is that any sin offends God. Regardless of its “size,” every sin defies Him and His authority and gives lie to our witness.
Granted, the consequences of our sins vary. Merely coveting Mary’s diamond tennis bracelet is of little consequence to her but my stealing that bracelet means she’s out several thousand dollars! I can hate my ex-husband without his ever knowing it but, if I kill him, his life is over! The worldly consequences to me would change with these sins, as well. While coveting and hate can sour my disposition and ruin relationships, theft and murder could land me in prison! Nevertheless, while the real-life consequences vary with the offense, the spiritual consequences are the same. Regardless of the transgression, every sin is rebellion against God and His plan for our world. While Christ paid the penalty for our sins, one day, we will give an accounting of our behavior (both good and bad) to God.
Scripture tells us to confess our sins but, when we minimize them, we fail to see them for what they are. Confession, however, is just the beginning—the next step is repentance. By minimizing those sins, we fail to understand the need for change or even the need for a savior! It’s only when we truly see and admit what sinful fallen creatures we are that we finally see our need and turn to Jesus!
And indeed, there is no little sin, because there is no little God to sin against. In general, what to (humans) seems a small offense, to Him who knows the heart may appear a heinous crime. [John Wesley]
Repentance is as much a mark of a Christian, as faith is. A very little sin, as the world calls it, is a very great sin to a true Christian. [Charles Spurgeon]
It’s been nearly 50 years, but I’ll never forget that day when, out of anger and fear, I vowed, “I’ll never forgive him!” My husband and I had taken our three children shopping for school clothes. While I was busy with the eldest, my husband said he’d take the other two for a walk through the mall. Unknown to me, the three-year-old had convinced his father that he’d stay at the store, sit quietly in a little crawl-through hole by the store’s entrance, and wait for his dad’s return. Unfortunately, my husband never told me of that decision. Having the attention span of a gnat, the little guy quickly grew bored watching shoppers. After wandering into the store to hide in the clothes racks, he looked for his brother and me. Not seeing us (since we were in a changing room), the independent guy decided we’d left without him and calmly went looking for us in the mall parking lot. While I was paying for our purchases, my husband returned with only one child in tow. Almost simultaneously, with panic in our voices, we asked one another, “Where’s Scooter?” My imagination went wild with all the horrible things that could have happened to the youngster. In an instant, I decided I’d never forgive my husband for his carelessness and that our marriage would be over!
The hatred between Jews and Samaritans began in 930 BC when Solomon’s son Rehoboam was king and the united kingdom of Israel divided. Ten tribes rebelled and made Jeroboam king of the northern kingdom of Israel whose capital was Samaria. Only the tribes of Judah and Benjamin along with the Levitical priesthood remained in the southern kingdom of Judah. Fearing a change of alliance if people returned to Jerusalem to worship, Jeroboam set up his own worship centers in the north.
When writing about forgiveness these last few days, I wondered why we find it so difficult to forgive. Perhaps it’s because, in our troubled hearts, we want to even the score before doing so. Wanting to retaliate in some way, bitterness and resentment grow and eat at us until we can extract our pound of flesh.
When writing about issumagijoujungnainermik, the Inuit word for forgiveness, I came across a word in the Tshiluba language spoken by the Bantu of the Congo: ilunga. Because isumagijoujungnainermik is made up of several Inuit words, it easily translates as “not-being-able-to-think-about-it-anymore.” Like issumagijoujungnainermik, ilunga has to do with forgiveness but, unlike the Inuit word, it resists an easy translation. In fact, back in 2004, 1,000 linguists gave it the questionable honor of being the world’s “most difficult” word to translate!
When Moravian missionaries first arrived in the Arctic, they found no single word in the Inuktitut language for forgiveness. That doesn’t mean the Inuit people didn’t let go of past wrongs, just that they didn’t have a single world for doing so. Since forgiveness is an essential concept in Christianity, the missionaries wanted a single word that captured the kind of forgiveness found in Psalm 103. Using Inuktitut words, they came up issumagijoujungnainermik meaning “not-being-able-to-think-about-it-anymore.” This 24-letter multi-syllable word beautifully describes the God who will “cast all our sins into the depths of the sea” [Micah 7:19], who vows to “forgive their iniquity, and…remember their sin no more,” [Jeremiah 31:34], and who promises to blot out our transgressions and not remember our sins.[Isaiah 43:25]