Sinners Anonymous
Scripture Reading: 1 John 1:1-2:2
Are you familiar with The Onion? Not the vegetable. The satirical magazine. The Onion, which has been around for something like 30 years, stands in the tradition of humor magazines like Mad Magazine from the 1960s, National Lampoon from the 1970s, and Spy Magazine from the 1980s. The Onion satirizes everything from current events to the human condition.
Speaking of which, one of my favorite pieces—and reminder, these are all works of fiction—was from a man writing a lighthearted musing comparing his own “innocent” addiction with his wife’s addiction to chocolate. The headline reads “I’m Like a Chocoholic—But for Booze.” He then proceeds to tell several supposedly cute anecdotes comparing his wife’s cravings for Hershey’s Kisses with his own all-day benders on various sorts of alcohol.
Just to be clear, the humor of the piece doesn’t come from making fun of alcoholism but from the man’s utter lack of self-awareness that he clearly has a drinking problem. And as is often the case with good satire, the humor, while irreverent, also understands the folly and the frailty of certain aspects of human nature, such as our willful blindness to our own sin.
That’s a theme we also find in today’s reading from 1 John: “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” And “If we say that we have not sinned, we make [God] a liar, and his word is not in us.”
Today marks our first foray into one of the many letters of the New Testament, and one of the few not attributed to Paul. While characterized as a letter, 1 John is really more of a sermon. You probably already noticed that there is no greeting or salutation that opens the Letter. The author doesn’t address a specific audience, like the church in Rome or Corinth or Galatia. He simply barrels right into the body of the sermon: “We declare to you what was from the beginning.…”
The author of 1 John is the same John as the Gospel of John. He was one of the twelve disciples of Jesus, as well as the younger brother of his fellow disciple James. At the time this letter was written, John would have been a very old man and one of the last living persons who had personally known Jesus.
You can see that emphasis on the real lived experience of having known, walked with, and learned from Jesus of Nazareth in the opening verse: “We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life.” John was a firsthand witness to Jesus, whom he calls “the word of life.” He makes the point that “this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it.” I have heard it. I have seen it. I have touched it. I know who and what I’m talking about, John is saying.
You might wonder why John appears to belabor the point of his firsthand knowledge of Jesus. At the time John was writing there was an idea, held even among some Christians, that Jesus wasn’t truly human. He only appeared to be human. The basic idea, which comes from Greek philosophy, not the gospel, is that of course God could not suffer, let alone suffer something as scandalous as the cross. Christ only appeared to suffer, but not having a true physical body, he didn’t really experience the horror and humiliation of the cross.
Because some people were scandalized by the truth, they tried to rewrite it. This attempt to rewrite history is not confined to the history books. We see the same thing happening today, not only in some quarters of the church but also in the public square. Objective truth is under attack by people for whom the truth is inconvenient, uncomfortable, or even incriminating.
But make no mistake, any attack on objective truth is an attack on the gospel itself. When voices tell us not to believe what our eyes have seen and our ears have heard, they are challenging the very notion of objective truth. And any threat to objective truth is a threat to the gospel, because the gospel is truth.
Truth is often associated with light. For example, the coat of arms of Yale University contains both the Hebrew and Latin words for “light” and “truth.” John makes this same association, writing that “God is light and in him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true.”
Therefore, to walk in the light, as John encourages, is to be honest about who we are…sinners forever in need of God’s grace.
There is no darkness in God. What does darkness do? It conceals. The thief and the attacker do their deeds under the cover of darkness. Darkness conceals, but God reveals. God reveals his divine character through his Son Jesus Christ. Do you want to know what God is like? Good! Because God wants to be known. Just look to God’s revelation. Look to Jesus who was crucified. There amid the shadow of the cross, you will find the light of the world. Even the pitch darkness of death could not extinguish his light.
This was what we celebrated last week on Easter Sunday. The stone that had covered the tomb was rolled away. The tomb, which had been shrouded in darkness, was suddenly flooded with light.
But that was a week ago. Who can remember back that far? With the frenetic pace of life nowadays, last week may as well have been last year. Our celebration was short-lived. That’s the problem with Easter Sunday; it’s always followed by Monday, when we find ourselves falling right back into the same old routines and the same patterns of sin—the same short temper, the same critical tongue, the same envy of that person who has it better than we do, even though they certainly don’t deserve it!
[D]eath is defeated, but it is not yet destroyed. Sin is once and forever atoned for, even though its power over us lingers.
Not to mention that the world seems just as filled with violence, chaos, and self-dealing as it was before Easter. Jesus may have won for us victory over death, but death sure seems to be a persistent foe.
So, what do we do? Just endure another year and wait around for the momentary high that we’ll get next Easter, which will be just as short-lived? The problem isn’t that Easter is a short-term fix. It’s not. We live in the light of the resurrection. Jesus is risen just as much today as he was 2,000 years ago.
The problem is us. Let me clarify. The problem is that sin—for now—still has a hold upon us. There’s a common misperception among many outside the church that Christians think of themselves as being morally superior to nonChristians, as if believing in Jesus somehow makes us immune from sin. To be fair, some Christians have tried to give that impression. But John calls this out, writing, “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves.” We’re kidding ourselves if we think that we’re not still sinners.
The truth is that the death and resurrection of Jesus has two dimensions—one that we experience here and now, and one that will be revealed in the fullness of time. You can think of it in the same way that Jesus speaks about the kingdom of God. The kingdom of God is already present but not yet fully realized. In the Gospel of Mark, the first words that Jesus speaks as he begins his ministry are “The kingdom of God has come near” (Mk. 1:15). But then at the Last Supper he says, “Truly I tell you, I will never again drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God” (Mk. 14:25). The kingdom of God is a present reality and a future hope. It’s something that we experience now but not yet in its fullness.
In the same way, with the death and resurrection of Christ, death is defeated, but it is not yet destroyed. Sin is once and forever atoned for, even though its power over us lingers.
You may be aware that there’s a local AA chapter that meets in the basement here on Sunday evenings. Just yesterday I noticed that they had put up a poster featuring the famous 12 steps. AA is not an overtly religious organization, but it has roots in Christianity, which is something you can see throughout the 12 steps, beginning with Step 1. It reads, “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.”
In place of “alcohol” substitute the word “sin,” and you have the Christian understanding of human nature. “We admitted we were powerless over sin—that our lives had become unmanageable.” Even after the atoning sacrifice of Christ, we remain sinners, just as alcoholics who haven’t had a drink in years still think of themselves as alcoholics. Recovery from addiction is a lifelong process, fraught with temptations, setbacks, guilt, and renewed hope.
Christ is risen because, even though it happened 2,000 years ago, the resurrection remains a present reality…
The same can be said of our struggle with sin. That’s why the same honesty with which alcoholics think of their addiction, Christians ought to consider their sin. Therefore, to walk in the light, as John encourages, is to be honest about who we are…sinners forever in need of God’s grace.
So, if in these days that follow the joy of Easter Sunday, you’re feeling somewhat of a letdown because you’ve fallen off the wagon (with regard to sin), that’s okay. In fact, you’ve come to the right place. This isn’t just a worship service but a weekly meeting of Sinners Anonymous.
And let me add one more thing: Know that, despite our sin, Jesus Christ is still very much risen. That is the Easter refrain, after all: “Christ is risen.” It’s not “Christ was risen” or “Christ will be risen,” but “Christ is risen.” Christ is risen because, even though it happened 2,000 years ago, the resurrection remains a present reality…for you, for me, and for all Christians. Christ is risen just as much today as he was then.
And, what’s more, even in his resurrection, Christ continues to advocate for us. “If anyone does sin,” writes John, “we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” No matter our sin, and no matter the day—whether it’s Easter Sunday, the week after, or whatever day it might be—Jesus Christ remains faithfully and eternally for us.