Saturday, February 11, 2017

The Land of Sinful Delight



25 In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.
Judges 21:25

The dream of entering the Promised Land was finally fulfilled.  Joshua brought the entire newborn nation of Israel into Canaan.  Israel was then established after demolishing thirty-one kings of Canaan.  Then the land was distributed according to God’s command.  Each tribe got their lot justly.  Then Joshua and all the elders that followed him died.  But many years later, the new generations of Israel no longer listened to the Torah.  Bad things, evil things, forbidden things were committed by the Israelites.  At the end of the book of Judges, a horrible evil was committed.  The case of sexual abuse that sparked from the sexual perversion of homosexuality, the refusal to comply to the Law of the Lord, and the brokenness of the brotherhood, all resulted in one tribe being almost annihilated.  And the writer of Judges concluded that there was no king in Israel in that time, so everyone did whatever they wanted.  The Promised Land had been deformed into the Land of Sinful Delight.

Sin reigned in the Land.  The power of sin grew greater in the Land.  Israel bowed to its power.  They voluntarily entered into slavery.  Their hearts were given to sin.  Sin owned them.  They became slaves to sin.  And the first thing they got rid of was God.  They switched to the worship of fake gods.  They submitted their hearts to the powers and principalities of the world.  The beautiful Land was corrupted.  The life of the people were then affected negatively.  Living in sin became normal.  The sin that long ago was committed in Sodom and Gomorrah was now present in what was supposed to be the Holy Land.  The people did not see it as a problem, sadly.  The chosen people had become like all other people God destroyed in the past.  Anyone dared to speak against the ‘normal’ life practice in the Land was ignored if not condemned.

Our life in this 21st century proves to be similar to that life more than 3000 years ago in the Land of Canaan.  We too are now living in the Land of Sinful Delight.  Sin is everywhere.  It reigns in the marketplace.  It reigns in the politics.  It reigns in the street corners.  It reigns in offices.  It reigns in schools.  It reigns in homes.  It even reigns in churches.  The powers and the principalities of the world have been given too much space to grow.  They do not just attach themselves to people, but they insert themselves into system.  The attachment to people is easier to uproot.  Once the person passed away, the power is no more.  But the insertion into system is proved to be extremely difficult to uproot.  To be against them would result in rejection and even condemnation.  Nicholas Thomas Wright or famously known as N.T. Wright observed:

Why was Jesus crucified? What was the ‘meaning’, the ‘inside’, of this event? To anyone in the ancient world, the question answers itself, as it might do today. Why did so many people die in Sarajevo? Why did people die in Tiananmen Square? Why, why did so many die in Rwanda? Same answer: they got in the way of forces, of powers.
Jesus took on the principalities and powers. He lived, and taught, a way of being Israel, a way of being human, which challenged the powers at every point. The powers said you should live for money. Jesus said you can’t serve God and Mammon. The powers said that Israel’s path to liberation would come through the sword. Jesus said that those who take the sword will perish by the sword. The powers said that Caesar was Lord of the world. Jesus proclaimed the kingdom of God.
What happens to people who stand up to the powers? It looks fine for a while; and then the tanks roll in. Anyone looking at the crucified Jesus would draw the conclusion that that’s what had happened. The powers killed him; that’s what they do to people who challenge them. The powers nailed up above his head the charge of which he was guilty: he was a rebel. They stripped him naked and publicly humiliated him. They celebrated their triumph over him. Nobody stands up to us like that, they said, and gets away with it. You can’t beat the system.[1]

The slavery of sin is rooted very deeply in human flesh.  In the time of Moses, Israel preferred to be enslaved by Egypt to being liberated by the God of love, grace, mercy, and justice.  In the time of the Judges, Israel chose to enter slavery voluntarily and thus profaned the Holy Land that God had promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  In the time of Jesus, the people chose to align themselves with the powers that be, so they got rid of Jesus, the God Man, pure and holy.  Today, people still prefer the world to God.  Being enslaved by the powers and principalities of this world is better for them than being freed from the slavery of sin by God.

            When Edmund encountered the White Witch, his sole request was for a Turkish Delight.  The White Witch gave Edmund his heart’s desire.  And then the Witch asked Edmund to bring his siblings to her.  When finally all four of the Pevensee children entered Narnia, Edmund’s thought was clouded by the imagination of the delicious Turkish Delight.  Even though he was told that the White Witch was the evil queen and the main enemy of Narnia, he could not shake his bond with her.  The Turkish Delight was the bait.  The enjoyment of the delicacy blinded him of the betrayal that he was committing as he leaked sensitive information about the whereabouts of his siblings and of Aslan to the evil queen.  The Sinful Delight is the bait for all humankind.  We crave the delicacy of sin that we betray the King of heaven.  Edmund betrayed his brother and sisters for the sake of tasting the Turkish Delight one more time.  And so we betray our loved ones, our fellow humans, and our loving Creator, for the sake of tasting the Sinful Delight one more time.

            It is so stunning to know that the grip of sin is very strong.  Sin is like an addiction.  When someone is addicted to alcohol, his life is under the power of alcohol.  There usually is a desire to escape the addiction, but can’t because the grip is too strong.  At one time I went to an AA (Alcoholic Anonymous) meeting to fulfill an assignment from seminary.  When I was in that meeting I did not say a word.  I only listened to everyone in that room.  All of them acknowledged the great power that alcohol had over them.  They all acknowledged that they could not fight the power of addiction on their own.  The temptation they faced was no smaller today than yesterday.  One lady shared her struggle.  As she began speaking, her voice started cracking.  I could feel it in my heart how difficult it must be for her.  She said that one day she had a fight with her daughter.  The fight was quite fierce.  And she felt the pain building up in her heart.  So her daughter slammed her bedroom door.  And she stayed in the living room.  She sat on the couch sighing so heavily.  Tears flowing down her cheek so freely.  Anger and sadness filled her chest.  She wanted the pain to go away.  Fast.  But the pain lingered on.  She glazed across the room.  And she saw a bottle of wine sitting there.  Then she began to think: “Oh just one sip, and the pain will go away.”  But her conscience battled her: “No can’t do, you have been sober for so long, do not ruin it!”  Her pain argued back: “Just one sip, it’s not going to ruin anything.  Just to make this pain go away.”  At that point, she broke down in tears.  We all stayed silent, letting her take her time to compose herself.  Then she said that she had to battle herself for a long time.  It was so hard.  The desire to get rid of the pain fast was very tempting for her weak flesh.  The wine was available.  The situation was conducive.  An excuse was never that easy.  The pain was unbearable.  Besides the plan was only to take one sip, nothing more.  Then she prayed to God at that crucial time.  She said that God asked her to let go.  It was so hard to surrender, she recalled.  She wanted the one sip so badly.  But she also did not trust herself.  Because she had been in similar situation before, many many times.  And not one time she could stop after one sip, or two, or three.  She knew that she wouldn’t stop until she drank the last drop.  At that point she began to let go.  She let go and let God take charge.  And she made the decision that night not to touch the wine.  And her closing words: “I let go and let God.”  Then she wiped her tears.

            A pastor came to our class at the seminary as a guest lecturer.  He opened by saying that he was an alcoholic.  He said that he would forever be an alcoholic.  I was surprised.  Then he continued on to say that it’s a defect in his system caused by sin.  He should never touch any alcohol, not even one sip, not ever, not in his lifetime.  He had very bad episodes in the past.  He had done horrible things under the influence of alcohol.  Then he went to AA.  Then he submitted to God.  Then he had been sober ever since.  He said that that’s one of his greatest weaknesses.  The grip of sin was very strong.  But he concluded that God’s power was stronger.  However, we should never underestimate the power of sin.  Underestimating it is the first step toward our enslavement by it.  Sin is mostly powerful because of its delightful appeal to our earthly flesh.  The delight of sinning is so understood by our flesh, even beyond our ability to describe it.  If we love a certain kind of dish, somehow we would be able to describe it.  Those who love to cook might even be able to point out the details of the delight.  Like the aroma of the garlic.  Or the tanginess of the orange sauce.  The sweetness and flavor of the wine.  The juiciness of the ribs.  And so on.  But sinful delight is a different matter altogether.  St. Augustine observed the delight of sin:

Theft is punished by Thy law, O Lord, and by the law written in men’s hearts, which iniquity itself cannot blot out. For what thief will suffer a thief? Even a rich thief will not suffer him who is driven to it by want. Yet had I a desire to commit robbery, and did so, compelled neither by hunger, nor poverty, but through a distaste for well-doing, and a lustiness of iniquity. For I pilfered that of which I had already sufficient, and much better. Nor did I desire to enjoy what I pilfered, but the theft and sin itself. There was a pear-tree close to our vineyard, heavily laden with fruit, which was tempting neither for its colour nor its flavour. To shake and rob this some of us wanton young fellows went, late one night (having, according to our disgraceful habit, prolonged our games in the streets until then), and carried away great loads, not to eat ourselves, but to fling to the very swine, having only eaten some of them; and to do this pleased us all the more because it was not permitted. Behold my heart, O my God; behold my heart, which Thou hadst pity upon when in the bottomless pit. Behold, now, let my heart tell Thee what it was seeking there, that I should be gratuitously wanton, having no inducement to evil but the evil itself. It was foul, and I loved it. I loved to perish. I loved my own error—not that for which I erred, but the error itself. Base soul, falling from Thy firmament to utter destruction—not seeking aught through the shame but the shame itself![2]

As bizarre as it could be, the sin he committed was not prompted by any urgent needs.  He wasn’t hungry.  He wasn’t poor either.  Yet he bound himself to the act of stealing.  He admitted that he even threw the pears that he just stole to the pigs.  Clearly he was not even driven to steal because of the deliciousness of the pears.  He did not care about any of that.  But his delight was in breaking the command.  His joy was in transgressing the law.  For him, he was attracted to the sin itself, not to the fact that he was sinning.  It was not the adrenaline.  It was not the adventure.  It was not the fun.  But the sin was so delightful to him.  That’s the best and the most honest explanation St. Augustine could come up with.

            Often we sin even without any justifiable or understandable excuses.  We just sin period.  We delight in sin itself.  Just as Edmund was so attracted to the Turkish Delight even at the expense of his siblings, we too are attracted to sin even at the expense of our soul.  St. Augustine did not need any excuse whatsoever in order for him to steal the pears.  He just did it.  And that’s the power of sin.  It’s so smooth.  Sin does not force people to commit the act of sinning.  As we are attracted to sin, we relegate our power to sin.  Sin then has power over us.  Once sin got a hold of power it never let go.  Once sin got us as its slave, we would be its slave forever.  Out of our own strength we can’t liberate ourselves from sin’s grip.  We are powerless against sin.  Because we have submitted our power to sin.  For thousands of years we have lived in the land of sinful delight, ever since Adam and Eve stepped into it.  We are born in the land of sin.  Our tendency is sinful.  Our environment is corrupted by sin.  The people around us too are prone to sin.  Our mind is wired to justify our sinful activities.  Together with Paul, we then cried out: “24 Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24).  Because, as clearly pointed out in Romans 7:19-20:

19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

In short, sin is everywhere.  And we are powerless against it.  Because the power of sin is great.  And we have not enough power in ourselves to overcome it.

            For the White Witch, the Turkish Delight was just a bait for Edmund.  What she was after was his soul.  The betrayal demanded Edmund’s soul to be forever owned by the Witch.  When Edmund finally realized the reality and the law, he refused to be owned and imprisoned by the Witch.  But Edmund did not have power to reject the Witch’s demand.  It was the Law of Narnia.  For justice sake, a tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye, blood for blood, and soul for soul.  So if Edmund’s soul was to be spared and thus to escape the Witch’s claim, another soul was to replace his.  That’s why Aslan took Edmund’s place instead, and He paid with His life.  In the same way, the sinful delight is the bait for the devil to gain power over man.  Once man is enslaved under sin, there is no way of getting out.  Unless there is a replacement.  But not even one man is sinless that can replace us.  Only someone not under sin may be the replacement.  And there is none.  Besides, if there is any without sin, that replacement would be condemned for all eternity.  Who would be willing to do so?  So Paul cried out in desperation.  Until there came the Messiah.  The only Man able to be the replacement.  Then Paul sighed a relief and proclaimed:

1There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.  (Romans 8:1-2)

The only Man that can save us from sin is Jesus Christ.  Just as the only one that can save Edmund from the Witch is Aslan.

            The Land of Sinful Delight is wretched.  It drags humankind into utter destruction.  Once we are in it, we are trapped forever.  Until the Messiah rescues us from it.  The Messiah can’t be an ordinary person.  He has to have a great love to be willing to become the replacement.  He must have the quality beyond that of one man in order to pay for so many.  For the Law dictates that one tooth can only replace one tooth, one soul can only replace one soul.  But the replacement must have the same value as well.  The replacement must not be anyone under sin.  He must be sinless.  Nobody can be found with such quality.  Only Jesus Christ has the said quality.  He loves us with immeasurable love so He is willing to be our replacement and be condemned forever.  He is sinless so He is qualified.  He is 100% human being, so He could take the place of humans.  And even though He is one human, He is also 100% God, and so He can replace an infinite number of humans, because the God quality in Him surpasses the quality of all humans combined.  What is more?  Jesus is not then trapped in oblivion, because His power conquers sin and death.  Clearly Jesus is the only one that can defeat the powers and principalities that we humans so fear.  As He defeats sin and death, they no longer have power over the redeemed.  This is excellent news.  The Land of Sinful Delight will be demolished forever.  It will be replaced by the pure land, the true Promised Land, the Land of Holiness and Justice and Love.  And all the redeemed in Christ Jesus will live in the true Promised Land.  No more sin.  No more slavery.  No more death.  And God will pitch His tent among us forever.  We will be His children of light.  That is the land we all long for.  Praise the Lord for all eternity.  Amen.


[1] N. T. Wright, Following Jesus: Biblical Reflections on Discipleship (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1994), 14–15.
[2] Augustine of Hippo, “The Confessions of St. Augustin,” in The Confessions and Letters of St. Augustin with a Sketch of His Life and Work, ed. Philip Schaff, trans. J. G. Pilkington, vol. 1, A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, First Series (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1886), 57.

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