ACW

Monday, 20 July 2015

Guilty...not guilty by Sue Russell

I approach
this post with considerable
hesitation, almost with
trepidation. Although it’s something I’ve thought about over the years, I'm in no position to pontificate about it (or, indeed, about
anything.) Nor have I come to any very clear conclusions. But perhaps it won’t hurt to give it an airing
and maybe some more clued-up souls out there can shed light.

There’s a
lot of talk about guilt in Christian circles. You only have to scan the hymn
books. This very morning we sang, ‘Guilty, vile and helpless we…’ Admittedly
this was in contrast with One compared with whom those words describe us humans
accurately. (The second line runs, ‘Spotless Lamb of God was He.’ ) I guess few
would deny that compared with Jesus we are all foul, and it doesn’t take much
probing to discover that our default is to be mired in sin. Maybe your default
isn’t the same as mine; perhaps the temptation to gamble away the housekeeping
isn’t something that plagues me, but something else will, and does.

I don’t have
any problem with shame. If I do, say or think something dishonourable, or fail
to do some good that was within my range of possibility, it’s the reasonable
way to feel, and might even result in a tiny and temporary improvement. But what of
that sense of ingrained unworthiness – whatever I do, however hard I try, I’m
still a worm? My default sinfulness is
simply inescapable by my own efforts, as part of me as the blood swishing round
my veins or the crow’s feet adorning my eyes. If I ever doubt this, it isn’t
for long; an unguarded moment sees that particular bit of the old Adam that is
mine rearing up in all its ugliness.

And then
there are those scary bits of Scripture that tell us sternly that a great deal
is expected of us to whom much has been given (Luke 12: 48.)I certainly count
myself among that blessed band, being the beloved child of good people, with
all that flows from that happy condition, and having received innumerable benefits both
material and spiritual, the greatest of which is knowing Jesus and being known
by him. If only by this measure, I have fallen short time and again. It’s not
usually that I have done something particularly horrible; sometimes it’s simply a question of wasting time in self-indulgent activities, or forgetting someone else’s need.

Of course we
know that the only answer to our predicament , the only means of wiping away
this damning tendency, is Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross. Our job, as long as we
are in the body, is to seek to know ourselves and to battle day by day, with
the Holy Spirit’s help, to deny our sinfulness and become more like him who
freely gave himself to save us.

What bothers
me is the expression of guilt where, it seems, there is none. Wrongly or rightly I’ve spent almost twenty
years trying robustly to rid a very dear friend of her feelings of guilt and
shortcoming which are (to my eyes) patently undeserved. These feelings have most
frequently manifested themselves in respect of her performance as a parent.
(Would it be terribly sexist to suggest that this is something most fathers
don’t worry about?) My friend is, by human standards, a fine person and an
excellent parent. Her children would I am sure agree. So who has set the impossible
standard to which she has aspired? I can
claim some success in my efforts: she says she can hear my voice when
self-doubt creeps in. ‘Did you make their packed lunches, listen to them read,
stay up late concocting fabulous birthday cakes, help with homework, pick them
up from dark places at creepy hours?’ Of
course she did, and much more. Is she responsible for their happiness as
adults? No, not really. She gave them what children need: much love, and a
sense of their own worth. The rest is up to them. I may, possibly, have managed
it. A bit.

But the
picture is not entirely clear. Scripture also tells us that we will be assessed
by what we have done, and neglected to do. Although we can’t rely on our works,
they have importance. (Romans 2:6; 2 Corinthians 5:10; 1 Peter 4:17; Revelation
20:13 – for example.)

The picture
is becoming increasingly, and worryingly, complicated. Add to this our natural
(if theologically incorrect) tendency to rate wickedness on a sliding scale,
and compare ourselves to others, and it gets worse. Can we really equate
forgetfulness, small self-indulgences, a sometimes shifty attitude to truth -
for example- with abuse, neglect, arrogance, cruelty and violence? I confess I am little further ahead.

This post is
already far too long, so I shall cease thinking about these things for now, in the hope that wiser heads may help me.
Once again I am taken back to the most important piece of knowledge I possess –
perhaps the only really important piece.
In the words of the heroic Horatio Spafford:

1 comment:

As time passes and the world at large becomes more accepting of, it seems, everything, the sliding scale of sin gets ever steeper. I see the Word watered down in a bid to keep people on side and to avoid upsetting and yet the Word never changes. The guilt can only be removed if we attach it in the right place - not by world standards but before God who has the power to forgive and reinstate.