I imagine it’s because of my northern European roots that my skin is so sensitive to the sun. I’ve gotten to know my dermatologist really well. I’ve been scolded and warned and told to take precautions. But — at least so far — she hasn’t told me to avoid the sun altogether. If that ever happens, we’re going to have problems.
I love the outdoors. I like to run. I like going out on the boat, swimming in the ocean, and exploring unfamiliar cities and towns on foot. Sometimes, I even like working in the yard — if it doesn’t interfere with the other things.
It might be the sun that ultimately gets me. I take precautions — I use sunscreen and wear hats — but complete sun avoidance would ruin my quality of life. The cost would be too high.
I suggest that we — as followers of Christ — think about sin avoidance in the same way.
A part of coming to faith in Jesus is recognizing our sinfulness and our need for a Savior. What follows — by God’s gracious hand — is a season of breaking old sin patterns and renewing minds to align with God’s ways. This is an important process for new believers. It’s a period defined by sin avoidance.
Like the Apostle Paul, we will always battle against sin (Romans 7). But is it possible that, as we mature, our lives might be defined by something other than sin avoidance? Is there a point when we so deeply understand what Christ did on the cross that we can live in the freedom He secured for us?
I’ve been encountering Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan everywhere lately: in a book I’ve just read, in my pastor’s current teaching series on love, in a study I’m preparing to lead. In that parable, Jesus tells us about a priest and a Levite — both of whom crossed to the other side of the road to avoid being defiled by touching a man who might be dead. The implication of the story is that there’s something God values above defilement avoidance. And that ‘something’ is love for another.
The Good Samaritan shows us God values something above defilement avoidance. That ‘something’ is love for another.
A life of sin avoidance is a withdrawn life. It’s an unengaged life. How are we to represent the Kingdom of God to our culture if we’re so afraid of getting dust on our feet that we never step outside? It’s the very thing we’re called to do: train all nations to obey Christ’s commands (Matthew 28). We do this by being in the world, but not of it (John 17). To love others, to disciple nations, we have to step outside and risk getting dirty.
It’s with this understanding that people can live in the Red Light District of Amsterdam and risk lustful thoughts, violence, and criticism. They can serve in law enforcement and the military and risk having to take a life. They can serve in politics and risk having to choose between two bad options, neither of which perfectly represents God’s Kingdom. And they can work for a business that seems to value profit over the welfare of its employees and clients. Certainly all of these environments need the influence of Christians!
Our quality of life — understood from God’s and others’ perspectives, rather than our own — is enhanced by our willingness to walk a dusty path. Moses put it all on the line in Exodus 32:32 when he asked for God’s mercy on the people of Israel — even if his name was blotted out from God’s book. The Apostle Paul made a similar offer in Romans 9:3.
When it comes to sin and the risk of worldliness sticking to us, taking precautions is better than avoidance. The cost of avoidance is just too high. Trust in God’s mercy. Stay in biblical community and God’s word. Invite others to confront and challenge you. Then engage the culture. Bring the fragrance of Christ into every sphere of society where God gives you influence. Let our lives be defined by love, not sin avoidance.
