1 Timothy 1: 12 -17

About ten years ago, many people who normally were supporters of the death penalty stepped out of character momentarily to plead for mercy on behalf of Karla Faye Tucker, a convicted murderer sentenced to be executed by the state of Texas.  Karla had committed a particularly horrendous crime, a double murder, the details of which I will spare you because they are so disturbing. She was found guilty and sentenced to death. 

While in prison, she met Jesus Christ and her life changed dramatically. For 14 years she lived her faith as a model inmate. As the day of her execution approached, the international media spotlight was focused on her. (You might remember all this.)  She was the subject of Nightline and was a guest on Larry King Live and the 700 Club.  People who saw her on TV had a hard time imagining the cold-blooded murderer that she truly once was; her life had clearly changed, and those who knew her well affirmed that. 

Karla petitioned authorities to change her sentence from death to life in prison. A strange alliance of people advocated her cause, standing up for her as character witnesses or sympathizers - a list that included prison guards, former prosecutors, the detective who arrested her, the brother of the woman she murdered… as well as Pat Robertson and the Pope. 

Time and again on national TV, she gave credit for the change in her life to Jesus Christ. Her petition was not  granted however, and on February 3, 1998, Karla was executed by the state of Texas. 

Karla Tucker was certainly not the first “bad sinner” to change her ways. Other notorious murderers have made a similar profession of faith, including David Horowitz (Son of Sam), Mark David Chapman (who murdered John Lennon), and even Jeffrey Dahmer (who needs no introduction). Some people suspect the validity of these jailhouse conversions, as well as the mental states of the ‘new believers’ but the fact is that many times they are real, and the changes they produce are permanent.[1]

But it is interesting to me that when we talk about the extent of God’s forgiveness – i.e., where is the line drawn, if there is one at all - between people who can be forgiven and those who are ‘beyond redemption’; the conversations almost always end up with either real people of our time or hypothetical scenarios of the most horrendous characters imaginable.  You’ve heard these questions – “can God really forgive people like Karla Tucker, or historical figures like Adolph Hitler?” Today we would include terrorists and political leaders such as Osama bin Laden and Saddam in those discussions, I think. 

What we seldom hear in these theoretical discussions, however, is whether or not God can forgive…me. Or, why should God forgive me?  Or you?  But when we look at the Scriptures, Old and New Testaments alike, we don’t have to read very far before coming to the conclusion that this is just as legitimate, just as significant a question as whether or not God can forgive all those more ‘notorious’ sinners. 

It is understandable that people would consider the Dahmers and the bin Ladens and the Hitlers to be in some special class, some category reserved only for the deeply evil people of this world. And, from God’s perspective, as well as a human perspective, that is actually true - to some degree. The Bible tells us that there are sins that are worse than others.  Jesus hinted on more than one occasion that it will be worse for some on the Day of Judgment than for others. 

Perhaps, because of this, and because we have such a hard time grasping the meaning of the absolute Holiness of God, (maybe the least appreciated God’s attributes), it is very difficult for us to see ourselves – even if we acknowledge that we do sin… occasionally…to see ourselves as anything like those terrible people in society who abuse children, or who are sadistic killers, or predators of any kind…people as Paul described as those  ‘whose consciences have been seared as with a hot iron’ (1 Timothy 4:2). 

That’s not us, we think; and it very likely is not us! So when we’re talking about the willingness of God to forgive, we don’t typically include ourselves in the discussion, when there are so many people ‘out there’ who are, frankly, worse than us! But I think we should. Why should God forgive me? Because it’s very clear, that I need it!

Yes, it is enlightening to talk about the extent of the Grace of God in Jesus Christ – grace that is so amazing that there is no one who truly turns to God in repentance who cannot be forgiven. That’s the Bible’s teaching. No sinner is beyond God’s reach.

The intensity of Jesus’ suffering on the Cross was not based simply in the physical agony of a Crucifixion, that was just incidental compared to the spiritual anguish of taking onto himself the wrath of God over all sin.  The price of our sin has been paid. 

And not just the big sins, or the big sinners - not just for terrorists and murderers, and warmongers; not just the politically corrupt and killers of the environment… but sinners like you and me. My sin and yours was what nailed Jesus to that Cross. Every false statement ever spoken, every angry word ever uttered (as well as the thoughts that lay behind those words)…every act of callousness, and indifference, dishonesty, selfishness, lust, and envy that we’ve ever committed was on that Cross. 

Theologians describe sin as any act that goes against the Holiness of God. That would include the two classic categories of sin – Sins of Commission (things we do) and Sins of Omission (things we should do, but we do not). 

It is a very difficult thing to come face to face with our own sin. I know we don’t like to talk about it, either. It is a terribly difficult, and humbling experience to come to a point where we are face to face with the reality of who we are, not in comparison to one another; not in comparison to publicly evil people; but who we are in comparison to a God whose nature is Holiness itself.  It is difficult because that reality is always ugly. 

The Bible uses the image of refining gold to describe how God builds our character and faith. Refining gold, is basically heating up the gold to such a high temperature that all the impurities separate and are skimmed or burned off.  The goal is to end up with the purest form of gold possible.  Now, this picture can help us understand what we’re talking about today. 

In Hebrews 12:25 it says that “our God is a consuming fire”. The NLV puts it like this “Our God is a devouring fire.”   What is it that God ‘consumes’, or ‘devours’?  Well, it is sin. It is rebellion. It is evil. That’s a metaphor that illustrates how nothing imperfect can enter even the presence of God, who again, is purely holy. No sin can be tolerated – in that sense, there are no ‘levels’ of sin, there are only ‘sinners’. 

Think back to the book of Deuteronomy. to the account of Moses receiving the Law and we see this principle in action. There on the lonely top of Mount Sinai Moses ‘meets with God’. 

In preparation for this encounter the entire mountain is cordoned off at its base. No living thing can even touch the base of this Mountain – not even an animal - on penalty of death.  Only Moses is invited to come forward. Moses goes, and forty days later comes back from the mountaintop, Law in hand. 

And the people look at him and say, “Yo, Moses, you have to do something about your face – put a veil over it. We can’t even look at you.” 

Why couldn’t they stand the sight of Moses? Not because he got ugly on Mt. Sinai! Not so much because of Moses himself, but more so because of their own sin and brokenness. Even the reflection of the glory of God from Moses, having been in God’s presence, was enough to highlight – to  reveal – the sinfulness of the people, and they couldn’t bear it. It is painful to see ourselves as God see us. 

In the book of Isaiah, chapter 6 begins with those wonderful words, “In the year King Uzziah died I saw the Lord”.  He describes this vision of the sanctuary of God in words that still bring wonder to our hearts –

He was sitting on a lofty throne, and the train of his robe filled the Temple. 2 Attending him were mighty seraphim, each having six wings. With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. 3 They were calling out to each other,

   “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Heaven’s Armies!  The whole earth is filled with his glory!”

 4 Their voices shook the Temple to its foundations, and the entire building was filled with smoke. 

So, Isaiah sees what very few humans have ever seen and lived to tell it: the throne of God. And what happens? You probably know this - here’s Isaiah, God’s hand picked prophet… he’s the one, remember, to whom God entrusted some of the most amazing prophecies of the coming Messiah ever written. He’s the one who described the child born of a virgin who would be called “Wonderful counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace”, those beautiful words that we heard sung in the Hallelujah chorus last Sunday morning. 

He’s the one who, in chapter 53 wrote of the suffering Messiah who would bear the sins of all the people, and wrote this so vividly that he sounds like an eyewitness to the Crucifixion of Jesus, even though he was 700 years too early. I point that out simply for this – to say that Isaiah was a good man!  Logic and experience tell us, you don’t receive such revelations from God unless you are on good terms with him. Right?  I think it’s safe to say that Isaiah was, from any human perspective, a good man. 

So, what is his response of this ‘good man’ to being in the presence of God?  Let’s read on:

 5 Then I said, “It’s all over! I am doomed, for I am a sinful man. I have filthy lips, and I live among a people with filthy lips. Yet I have seen the King, the Lord of Heaven’s Armies.” 

In the presence of almighty God, Isaiah recognizes that he, too, stands in need of grace. Just like all of us. Eugene Peterson, who translated “the Message” says:  The biblical fact is that there are no successful churches. There are, instead, communities of sinners, gathered before God week after week in towns and villages all over the world. The Holy Spirit gathers them and does his work in them. In these communities of sinners, one of the sinners is called "pastor" and given a designated responsibility ... to keep the community attentive to God.[2]

A number of folks from our church have read the book by Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz.  In one of his early chapters Miller writes – in his very non-theological language (which is what I think is the best thing about this book) about recognizing our own sinfulness before God as a starting point in any real faith journey. 

He begins by quoting a short poem by the great C. S. Lewis, who addresses his own fallen state:

All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through;
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.

Peace, reassurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin;
I talk of love – a scholar’s parrot may talk Greek -
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin. 

[Donald Miller]

"I sat there above the city wondering if I was like the parrot in Lewis’ poem, swinging in my cage, reciting Homer, all the while having no idea what I was saying. I talk about love, forgiveness, social justice; I rage against American materialism in the name of altruism, but have I even controlled my own heart?  The overwhelming majority of time I spend thinking about myself, pleasuring myself, reassuring myself, and when I am done there is nothing to spare for the needy. Six billion people live in this world, and I can only muster thoughts for one. Me. 

"I know someone who has twice cheated on his wife, whom I don’t know. He told me this over coffee because I was telling him how I thought, perhaps, man was broken; how for man, doing good and moral things was like swimming upstream. He wondered if God had mysteriously told me about his infidelity. He squirmed a bit and then spoke to me as if I were a priest. He confessed everything. I told him I was sorry, that it sounded terrible.  And it did sound terrible. His body was convulsed in guilt and self-hatred. He said he would lie down next to his wife at night feeling walls of concrete between their hearts.  He had secrets. She tries to love him, but he knows he doesn’t deserve it. He cannot accept her affection because she is loving a man who doesn’t exist. He plays a role. He says he is an actor in his own home. 

"Designed for good, my friend was sputtering and throwing smoke. The soul was not designed for this, I thought. We were supposed to be good, all of us. We were supposed to be good. 

"For a moment, sitting there above the city, I imagined life outside narcissism. I wondered how beautiful it might be to think of others as more important than myself. I wondered at how peaceful it might be not to be pestered by that childish voice that wants for pleasure and attention. I wondered what it would be like not to live in a house of mirrors, everywhere I go being reminded of myself."[3]

He ends the chapter with these words: 

"I know now, from experience, that the path to joy winds through this dark valley. I think every well-adjusted human being has dealt squarely with his or own depravity. I realize this sounds very Christian, very fundamentalist and browbeating, but I want to tell you this part of what the Christians are saying is true. I think Jesus feels strongly about communicating the idea of our brokenness, and I think it is worth reflection. Nothing is going to change in the Congo until you and I figure out what is wrong with the person in the mirror."

C. S. Lewis said, “When a man is getting better, he understands more and more clearly the evil that is still left in him. When a man is getting worse, he understands his own badness less and less.”[4]

Back to Isaiah 6… Isaiah, this ‘good man’, this self-confessed man of unclean lips calls out his own doom because his sin is revealed by the presence of God. But that is not the end of the story – and that certainly is not the end of the Gospel! It is, more accurately, the beginning of the good News.  Listen on: verse 6ff… 

 6 Then one of the seraphim flew to me with a burning coal he had taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. 7 He touched my lips with it and said, “See, this coal has touched your lips. Now your guilt is removed, and your sins are forgiven.” 

There is amazing imagery and symbolism here.  The angel takes a burning coal from the altar in the temple – is this the heavenly Temple or the one Isaiah was sitting in? - the altar was the place where the people would offer their sacrifice, and where that offering was burned as a symbol of the remission of sins (remember: God is a consuming fire!) 

The seraphim takes a coal from this altar of sacrifice and touches Isaiah’s lips – yes, it sounds incredibly painful! – but the image is powerfully clear: as the angel says himself: “See this coal has touched your lips. Your guilt is removed, and your sins are forgiven.” 

The point is made: when we come into God’s presence, no matter how ‘good’ we are by our standards, or society’s standards, by God’s standard we have a problem. We are sinners, every one of us. And something needs to be done about that before we can stand in God’s presence. And the good news is: something has been done.  Christ died for our sin. Our sin. Yours and mine. 

Only God can forgive sin, only God can remove it. And in Christ Jesus, the offer is given to any who are willing to receive it: confess your sins and find new life. 

Regardless of what you have done in your life, there is nothing that will cause God's love for you to change. He loves you so much that he could not possibly love you more, and he will never love you less. I am not saying this so we will have an excuse to sin; I am saying this so you will have reason to hope. No matter what you have done, or no matter what has happened in your life, God doesn't look at you as a second-class citizen. He doesn't consider you a has-been, or a nothing. His love for you is as great as it ever was. It doesn't matter who you used to be, God loves you and wants to forgive and cleanse you completely... 

In our Scripture reading this morning, Paul says, “This is a trustworthy saying, and everyone should accept it: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”—and I am the worst of them all. 16 But God had mercy on me so that Christ Jesus could use me as a prime example of his great patience with even the worst sinners.” 

It comes down to this. We can forget the past, because God has forgotten the past. He is more concerned with who we’re becoming, than who we’ve been. If there are mistakes you made years ago, or months ago—or even days ago—we need to know that God is willing to put it behind you and give you a chance to start over. We may have to live with the consequences of our mistakes, but we don't have to live with the guilt or the shame. He will set you free from all of it, and give you a chance to start again. It doesn't matter who you used to be. In spite of your past, God loves you, he will change you, and he will use you - if you open your heart to him. 

This is the Good News… and it meant for every one of us, all who stand in the need of grace.

Amen.

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[1] http://www.preachingtoday.com/31854  [from a sermon by Steve May]
[2] Eugene H. Peterson, Leadership, Vol. 9, no. 4.
[3] Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller; 2003 Thomas Nelson Publishers, p. 21 - 22
[4] C. S. Lewis, Leadership, Vol. 7, no. 4.