For the person who keeps all of the laws except one is as guilty as a person who has broken all of God’s laws. [James 2:10 (NLT)]
Last January, an official in a northern city was found guilty of twenty counts of bribery, extortion, and conspiracy along with mail, wire and tax fraud. His crimes netted him over $2 million in ill-gotten gains. Last month, he was sentenced for those crimes and, while he didn’t protest his innocence, he did protest his punishment. His crimes were merely “ethical mistakes” made because he was inexperienced and just doing his job. His lawyer compared his offenses with those of other corrupt officials, asserting his client’s felonies were less criminal so a shorter sentence was in order. In addition, he wasn’t really all that guilty since, in spite of his dishonesty, the city still managed to collect over $700 million in fines from the program he managed. Being just a little guilty, however, is much like being just a little bit pregnant—no matter how you spin it, you’re still guilty or pregnant.
Since the beginning of time, man has tried to deny responsibility, spread the blame and minimize his guilt. Believing he was only a little guilty, Adam blamed Eve for the apple debacle and then had the audacity to blame God for giving him Eve in the first place. Eve, of course, minimized her guilt by blaming the serpent. When King Saul was told to destroy everything possessed by the Amalekites, he only destroyed what was worthless or of poor quality. After lying to Samuel about his actions, he tried to minimize his guilt by blaming the people for his actions. Then he tried to put a positive spin on his disobedience by saying they’d only taken the plunder to use as sacrifices to God. For their sins, Adam and Eve were evicted and Saul lost the kingship. That guilty city official? He got ten years in prison!
We’re all sinners and, like Adam, Eve, Saul and convicted felons, we try to minimize our guilt. Clearly some crimes are greater than others; stealing a candy bar is not same as murder. Yet, the guilt is the same. Some sins also seem greater than others; profanity doesn’t seem as sinful as worshipping an idol. Nevertheless, they both are sins and offensive to the Lord. Big or little, every sin separates us from God and every sin deserves the death penalty. Fortunately, the blood of Christ and our heartfelt confession and repentance have commuted the sentence we so rightly deserve.
“I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” sang the Rolling Stones in 1965. Back in 520 BC, the Jews of Jerusalem were probably singing their own version of that song. Sixteen years earlier, upon their return to Jerusalem from exile in Babylon, they had started to rebuild the temple just as God had instructed them to do. Within two years, however, construction had stopped. Granted, they had hostile neighbors who, fearing a prosperous Jewish state, harassed them. In actuality, though, they were more to blame for their delay than were their political opponents. Questioning God’s timing, they’d grown discouraged, lost focus and become more concerned about building their own homes than finishing God’s house. God sent a message to the people through the prophet Haggai pointing out that the harder the people worked for themselves, the less they had to show for it. By ignoring God and fulfilling their needs first, the Jews were destined to remain unsatisfied. Moreover, God was angry that He had been ignored. So angry, in fact, that He sent a drought to destroy their crops and livestock.
When my children were younger, there were several occasions that I wanted to pretend I had no idea to whom they belonged! There was that time one noticed (and used) the red emergency stop button on an escalator, or another discovered the meaning of the “domino effect” after pulling over one stanchion at the airport and seeing another ten follow suit, or one managed to be so nasty to the babysitter that she went home in tears, or when hotel security came knocking because of spitballs dropping from the window of our children’s adjoining hotel room. I really didn’t want to admit I knew them, let alone had given birth to them. We expected better from our children and their conduct certainly didn’t bring honor to our name. Unfortunately, their behavior, while unacceptable, was a somewhat unavoidable and unpleasant part of their growing up. Fortunately, those times of boundary testing are long over and I am now proud that they bear my name.
When I was a little girl, although I was allowed to roam freely throughout much of my residential neighborhood, I was not permitted to go as far as the business section several blocks west. I had some playmates, however, who were allowed more freedom. One day, in defiance of my mother, I walked to the grocery store with them. Once there, they dared me to steal a candy bar, something they apparently did frequently and successfully. As young as I was, I knew shop-lifting was wrong but the chocolate bar looked so delicious that I took the bait. Even though I saw the trap being set, I stepped right into it and stole the candy! On the walk back down our street, I ate the chocolate and, as I recall, it didn’t taste nearly as good as I thought it would. When I returned home, guilt-ridden and ashamed, I told my mother what I had done. She marched me right back to that store where I paid for the stolen candy bar with my weekly allowance.
