Sin rests in our blind spots. By the very nature of sin, we often can’t see it in ourselves. Like a doctor trying to diagnose their own illness, we often don’t have the perspective necessary to recognize the role of sin in our choices. Sin’s woven into us so intimately, that it’s nearly impossible to recognize the threads of sin that run through the fabric of our lives. I was just talking with someone about the great social struggles in recent history. In recent decades, our society’s been nearly torn apart by racism and sexism. These days our church reflects the social tension emerging around the diversity of sexual orientations. In the midst of each of each of these struggles, there’s been painful confrontation. But if we try to predict where the next great social struggle will pop up, it’s an exercise in futility. The social struggles of tomorrow are the biases that we take for granted today. The battles for social justice in the future will come from the questions that we haven’t yet asked, the assumptions we haven’t yet challenged. Socially and personally sin sits where we can’t see it in ourselves. Like when someone walks around all day with spinach stuck in their teeth. It often takes a good friend to point out the embarrassing fact, because we don’t notice it ourselves. We can’t see ourselves objectively. It’s nearly impossible for us to take a true measure of the state of our souls all on our own. It’s a paradox. We must recognize our sin before we can be freed from it. But most often, by its very nature, sin is something that we just can’t see in ourselves.

To resolve this paradox, God’s placed us in the midst of community. In order to reconcile our sins with our best intentions, we’ve got to rely upon a community of support. In community, we can be held accountable, encouraged, and nurtured into the way of freedom and reconciliation. Clergy sexual misconduct is a pervasive topic throughout every community of faith these days. In the face of sex scandals, in the face of church cover-ups of abuse, in the face of children and adults terribly wounded at the hands of a pastor, clergy sexual misconduct is a topic that all churches have got to come to terms with. Some clergy find themselves sucked up in an ideal of self-sufficiency and independence. Many clergy feel like they ought to never reveal their vulnerabilities or struggles, or else they may be seen as broken or incompetent. So a lot of clergy try to go it on their own. They don’t let others know about their frustrations and doubts. They don’t share with others questions about how they’re doing their jobs. They isolate themselves from all possible checks of accountability. And then one day they discover that they’ve hurt someone, or taken advantage of someone, or exploited their role as a clergyperson for their own personal gain at the expense of another. We who are clergy are taught that we have tools for keeping ourselves out of situations where we could possibly abuse our authority. And our most important tool is to be part of a community of accountability. We must find a place to be vulnerable, to share our struggles, and to let others know what questions we need to be asked in order to stay healthy. Healthy clergy are personally engaged in communities of accountability. All of us need to be part of a community of accountability. Each of us must find a safe group of people where we can let our insecurities show. We need a place where we can be vulnerable, be irrational, be angry, be hurt. And in turn, we must allow those folks who know us so intimately to hold us accountable to our own desire for health and wholeness. In a previous church I served I wrote in the newsletter that I was going to give up drinking pop for Lent. I wrote about this in order to encourage others in the church to consider their own spiritual disciplines. But I didn’t realize what an impact it would have for my whole congregation to know what I was giving up for Lent. People asked me every week how I was doing with giving up pop. Was I suffering from withdrawals, I was asked. Was I looking forward to Easter when I could drink pop again, they wanted to know. There was no way for me to backslide in my Lenten discipline without everyone knowing about it. They were continually checking in, and their checking in helped me to remember the promises that I’d made to myself and to God. I was encouraged and strengthened along my Lenten journey, because I let people know. Each of us needs to be part of a group. Usually it’s a small group of folks that you trust to be completely confidential and respectful and supportive. And in that sort of community, we can share our vulnerability. And once we’ve shared our vulnerability, then we can share the burden of remaining accountable to our own vision of how we want to live our lives. Sin’s hard for us to recognize on our own. That’s why God’s given us the gift of a loving community.

And ultimately, we have no other choice but to rely on God to guide us in the path of reconciling our sins. There’s no formula, no incantation, no magic trick that makes our sins go away. Only God can reconcile us and make us new. Only God’s perspective can truly enable us to recognize that we’re made whole once more by the one who created us in the first place. In the sixteenth century, Ignatius of Loyola composed a process of spiritual discernment for Christians who’re seeking to find out what God intends for them. The most important rule of Ignatius is, “The love which moves me and makes me choose something has to descend from above, from the love of God.” Sometimes even with the help of friends and community, understanding the right thing to do is tough. Sometimes it feels impossible to be able to separate out what we do for selfish reasons and what we do for others. Right and wrong, on a daily basis, is often a very gray area. But in accepting the role of a Christian, we accept the need to reorder our lives around God first. Without God, we are enslaved to our sin. With God, we’re made free.

How’re you doing on your Lenten journey? How’re you doing on your Christian journey? What is the state of your soul? If you don’t have a community of support that asks you those sorts of questions on a regular basis find one. Talk with your pastor or with your friends. Seek out another perspective in order to take a true measure of your life. And know that the God who made you promises to make you new. Amen.