The Secret Darkness

1 Samuel 16: 1-13
Ephesians 5: 8-14

It doesn’t take much to convince most people that they’re sinners. We all know our faults and our struggles and our burdens. We have all heard the sermons about how our wicked ways will lead us straight into Satan’s arms instead of Jesus’. However, even though we know we’re not perfect and that we are all sinful in some way, most of us sitting here probably believe we’re not terribly wicked sinners with no hope of salvation either. We’ve been raised to believe that Jesus can and has saved us from the lies we tell and the evils we commit.

 This passage in Ephesians about light and darkness, those who are wake in Christ and those who are asleep, reminds me of the Story of the Prodigal Son. We all know that the prodigal son was the bad apple. He is both the bad guy and one of the victim in the story, and at the end he receives a reward that he has not earned in the slightest. But we always forget about the Eldest Son. The son who although he always seems to do the right and honorable thing, is not the one in the story that ends up with his Father’s arms wrapped around him in love and forgiveness.

Martin Luther once said to “Sin boldly”. I think that the prodigal son was a bold sinner. He was a man that lived his life in a way that shames more honorable people, and yet he is the one that ends up having a transforming experience where he comes out of the darkness of his sinful life and enters into the light. The Eldest child starts out in the light and ends up in the darkness. How does this happen? How can someone good and dependable like the eldest son end up being the one that sits on the sidelines and watches as his good for only having a good time brother ends up receiving everything that he, the eldest brother, has worked so hard for his whole life?

I think this is our problem as Christians sometimes, those of us that are lifers. We have always believed in Jesus and we cannot remember a time when we didn’t believe that God has sent his son so that we wouldn’t be condemned, but instead we would be saved and have eternal life. We are the eldest child who attends church every Sunday and volunteers our time for various committees and community functions. We’re the ones that people depend on and we have come to see ourselves as not perfect, but pretty dang good people. We don’t really consider ourselves degenerate sinners, but we don’t consider ourselves saints either.

A couple years ago, I was on a CS Lewis kick and read the book, The Screwtape Letters, which is about the story of an older demon counseling a younger demon. At one point in the book, it says, "You will say that these are very small sins, and doubtless, like all young tempters, you are anxious to be able to report spectacular wickedness. But do remember, the only thing that matters is the extent to which you separate the man from the Enemy [God]. It does not matter how small the sins are, provided that their cumulative effect is to keep the man away from the Light.… Murder is no better than cards if cards can do the trick. Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one—the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts."

Perhaps, this is why Martin Luther says to sin boldly so that everyone may know what are sins are and they will eventually come into the light. We’ll have to face the sins if people point them out to us, but if they are secret sins and ones that are committed with little guilt or thought, they can eventually pull us away from God just as effectively as committing murder. It’s hard to think that a few small sins can do the same amount of damage as murder, but yet, it does and sometimes more easily too.

You see, it is only human beings that put a gradient on sinful acts. We do not see a lie being as awful as murder. We do not see how disrespecting an individual can be as awful as raping a person. We do not see how constantly being jealous over what others have can be as bad as committing robbery. And yet, every person that commits murder, rape, and robbery all began with these so-called little sins too. And the more we do something, the less fantastic it seems and the more ordinary and okay it seems.

I was watching the show Bones the other day when the lead actress said something very interesting. She said that in an experiment, people were given goggles that made everything upside down when they looked through them. For three days, everything was upside down, but the brain adjusted to this disorientation and on the fourth day when they woke up, the world looked right side up until they took off the goggles. Then it took them another three days for their brain to adjust and again see the world the way it was. Our minds are amazing. God created our mind to help us adapt to whatever life throws at us so that we may survive.

In an effort to survive in a sinful world, sometimes we shut out our own sinfulness. We put levels on sinful acts and tell ourselves that the lie we told our spouse is not that big of a deal even though a lie is a sin. We get tired of the world beating us up, and to protect ourselves we make our own culpability less by thinking that the things we do, although wrong – do not really damage our soul and our connection to Jesus. But they do.

And the really scary thing is that the more we pretend that these little sins mean nothing in the long run, the blinder we become to when we commit larger sins. A couple years ago, I took a tour of a cave. The guide taught us an interesting fact about this. A person who lives in total darkness for just a few months will become irrevocably blind. Darkness not only hinders sight, it causes blindness.

This passage in Ephesians is asking us to wake up and see where we are living in darkness. It is reminding us that we are beautiful people that are filled with God’s Holy Spirit and therefore, we do not need to fear or live in darkness. But although we know this on an intellectual level, and even manage to believe it sometimes, we do not always live as children of the light. We do not own the person we are and the inheritance we have been given.

In the story of the Prodigal son, it took a man who faced a deep darkness to recognize where the light in his life existed. He didn’t want to become blind and lost, and he returned to the source of his greatest happiness – his father’s arms. The eldest child who never left his Father’s house and yet, had no joy in his heart was the one who gradually was pulled deeper into the darkness.

As lifetime Christians, it is hard sometimes to find joy every Sunday. We are weary of being the good person all the time, the dependable person, the one everyone comes to for advice. Sometimes, we just want to live our life free of commitments and obligations and worries. And we begin to grumble about those who seem to live a freer and more sinful life. We make comments about the way they dress or the things they do. We make up stories about why they weren’t at that social function this week and we refuse to forgive those who we feel have slighted us by not doing what we feel they ought to have done.

This is the way the Eldest child felt about his brother. He begrudged him the goodness and light he found. He felt jealousy and he coveted not only the easier lifestyle he imagined his brother had, but then at the end, he coveted the relationship his brother ended up having with his father. He was committing sins without even realizing it and we do the same thing.

That is why Jesus constantly tells us not to judge others and not to be so fearful and worried about what goes on around us. Sin boldly, and repent with a joyful heart. It is Lent and therefore it is time for us to see where we have lied to ourselves about who we are and face Jesus with bowed heads. Ask the Lord to bring us back into the light, to shine upon us and reveal where darkness has entered our hearts. It is time to let the Holy Spirit refine and purify our souls so that not only will we be in the light, but we will BE a light to those who are still in the dark.

Amen.