Do You Sin?

The real question isn't, "Do you sin?" but rather, "What do you do after you sin?" The response to that question is a matter of life and death.

In a bustling town, there lived two neighbors: one, a well-off businessman known for his vast array of gadgets and toys, and the other, a struggling artist trying to make ends meet. The wealthy man had many electronic devices, from the latest smartphones to top-of-the-line laptops and gaming consoles. Meanwhile, the artist possessed a single old laptop, which he used for work and personal projects.

The wealthy man often hosted gatherings at his luxurious home, where he'd entertain guests and display his collection of cutting-edge gadgets. One day, a friend from overseas visited, and the wealthy man, unwilling to use his own devices to entertain the guest, instead chose to borrow the struggling artist's laptop without permission. He showcased it as if it were his own, impressing his visitors with its capabilities. At the same time, the artist, unaware of the misuse, struggled to continue his work without his only means of digital creation.

The poor artist had deeply cherished his laptop—it was a tool for his craft and a source of connection with the world. He felt devastated when he realized his laptop was missing. Later, upon discovering how it had been taken and used to impress others, the artist felt a deep sense of betrayal and loss.

The incident left a lasting mark on their relationship. The wealthy man's lack of consideration for the struggling artist's sole possession led to a breach of trust, hurting the artist and straining their once-friendly neighborhood dynamic. Taking something so precious from someone in need showcased a lack of empathy and care for the neighbor's circumstances.

Though this might not have been a real occurrence, it's not entirely implausible. In 2 Samuel 12, we witness a similar scenario orchestrated by the prophet Nathan. He shared a tale, substituting a David in the story as the 'rich man.'

The Scriptures narrate how David grew furious with the 'rich man's' actions, loudly declaring to Nathan, "As the LORD lives, the man who did this deserves to die!" (2 Samuel 12:5). Nathan's response in verse 7 was blunt: "You are the man!" David needed this wake-up call; he had to recognize and comprehend that his actions toward Bathsheba and his request for Uriah's life were a sin toward God.

Thankfully, God intervened to reveal what David had hidden (in chapter 12). He dispatched the prophet Nathan to remind David that God wouldn't allow the matter to end there, though he thought he had evaded consequences. And in a moment of deep humility, David finally came clean. The result was one of Scripture's most beautiful and exemplary songs: Psalm 51. In this psalm, David presents four keys to repentance and confession centered on the gospel.

If we were writing Psalms 51 today, it might come across like this; 

O God, be kind to me, Show Your unending love, With Your great compassion, Erase my guilt from above. Wash away my wrongdoing, Cleanse me from every Sin, For my faults are ever before me, And they dwell deep within.

Against You, I've done wrong, Evil within Your sight, You're fair in judgment, strong, Blameless in Your light. I was born with guilt, Sin right from the start; you seek truth to be built, Teach wisdom in my heart.

Cleanse me, make me pure, As white as falling snow, Fill me with joy and cure, Let even my bones glow. Turn from my Sin and shame, Erase my guilt and my blot, and Create a new aim in me, A spirit that won't rot.

Please, don't cast me away, Or take Your Spirit, Lord, Restore the joy to stay, A spirit in accord. Then I'll teach others: Guide sinners in Your way, Save me from Sin's sway, Be my light every day.

Help me sing Your praise, Let my lips declare, No need for burnt displays, Just a heart of truth laid bare. Make Zion strong once more, Rebuild Jerusalem high, Then righteous offerings will soar, As our hearts reach for the sky.

Most of us haven't committed sins as severe as David's, like open adultery and murder. But we all stumble. And each of us carries the potential for committing grievous acts akin to David's. I say this because that's the nature of unacknowledged Sin; it transforms us. When we're faced with the consequences of our wrongs—similar to how David confronted Bathsheba's pregnancy (11:5)—we might try to conceal it, justify it, or shift the blame. That could work temporarily. But there's only one authentic solution for Sin: repentance.

The real question isn't, "Do you sin?" but rather, "What do you do after you sin?" The response to that question is a matter of life and death.