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Am I sinner because I sin? Or do I sin because I’m a sinner? These two questions point to a fundamental issue within Christianity. The perspective, I am a sinner because I sin, is how our faith began. Our creation myths tell of God creating a world and pronouncing everything good, including human beings who are created in God’s image. The premise is that we are fundamentally good.

Then the story of Adam and Eve explains why there is suffering in life and why we don’t always do the good. It accounts for why life is hard. It gives a cautionary perspective on free will. But the assumption is still that we are fundamentally good. We are good people who sometimes make bad choices.

Let’s go back to the beginning of this reflection and the second perspective offered. Do I sin because I am a sinner? This presumes we are sinners, bad people, to the core, so we can’t help but sin. The foundational premise is that the story of Adam and Eve marks us down to our essential essence as fallen, bad, sinners from our conception on.

This perspective is not inherited from our Jewish roots, nor is it part of the understanding of early Christianity. The concept or original sin and the fall really gained traction with Augustine of Hippo [354-430]. The story of Adam and Eve implicates Eve as the evil doer, which validated the subjugation of women in the church (and society). And the perspective that original sin is passed on through sexual activity led to the long held view of the church that sex was to be for procreation only.

The perspective, I sin because I’m a sinner, carries all the weight of the doctrine of original sin which was not original to Christianity or Jesus’ teachings.

When we look back at Psalm 51, we read:

Indeed, I was born guilty,
a sinner when my mother conceived me.

Is this a validation of original sin? It wasn’t for the Jews or for early Christians. This kind of language and imagery is entirely characteristic of the poetic language of the Psalms. The Psalms use extreme language, strong language, to convey intense feeling. It is poetic. It is metaphor. It’s the writer’s way of expressing intense guilt and shame and remorse.

In another verse of the Psalm, the writer says, “Let the bones that you have crushed rejoice.” We don’t assume that God has literally crushed the actual physical bones of the writer. It’s a way for the writer to convey how he feels beaten down by his circumstances. It’s not meant literally. And neither is the verse about being born guilty.

I sin because I’m a sinner. Or I’m a sinner because I sin. It’s up to us which perspective we will take. They both have very significant and far reaching implications. Which will we choose? What effect does that have on our lives? On how we see others? On our wider views about society? It’s really up to us to decide. And the decision matters.

Prayer
We are grateful to be part of a faith tradition that puts an emphasis on forgiveness. Whatever happens in this life, whatever we do, we know that the door of forgiveness is always open. May we walk through that door readily and may we readily forgive. This is the freedom that spawns creativity and transformation and generosity. Amen.

Most days when we wake up in the morning, even those of us who need a cup of coffee before we can open our eyes, we want to feel positive about what’s ahead. A new day. A new beginning. A new adventure. A new challenge. A new opportunity. We have no idea what awaits us. What surprises will we encounter? What delights will there be? What odd coincidences will happen? Who knows? A day should begin with a sense of hopeful expectation. Even in the midst of “the blues,” waking up in the morning still pretty much beats the alternative!

If your devotions include reading a psalm each morning, what happens when you come to Psalm 51? You start your day with, “Have mercy on me. . .” When you just get up, you haven’t even had a chance to do something wrong! It’s not exactly starting your day on the sunny side!

One commentary suggests that instead of, “Have mercy on me, O God,” a more accurate translation would be, “Grace me, O God.” I like that much better. In fact, I could see starting every day with “Grace me!” Grace me with the beauty of nature, an encounter with a friend, a delicious meal, a chance to do a good turn for someone, a great run, a good day at work. Grace me! Bring it on! It has a sense of positive expectation as well as adventure and mystery. Grace me!

Then, think about ending the day reflecting on how you have been graced that day. Where was the grace? Was there a lot or a little? Were you left stunned by grace? Did you miss the grace that day? What was that about? How are we graced each and every day? What a beautiful way to end a day. Perhaps this is something you might try as part of your daily spiritual discipline. Start the day with the affirmation, “Grace me!” and then end the day looking for the fulfillment.

Prayer
We live each and every day by grace. But often it’s easier to grouse than to look for grace. May we seek grace, expect grace, and trust grace to shape our days. And may we abound with gratitude for the presence of grace in our lives and in the world. Amen.

After seducing (or raping) Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, a solider in his army, King David discovers that he has fathered a child. He decides to try to make Uriah look like the father. When that doesn’t work, he arranges for Uriah to be killed in battle so that he can have Bathsheba. This was a low point in the moral demeanor of King David, who could be called the “comeback” king because he is remembered as the greatest king of Israel. Guilty of taking another man’s wife, who really cannot refuse the king, while her husband is off fighting in the king’s army, that was really bad. But then to arrange for the husband to be killed in battle to get rid of him so that he can have the wife, that is heinous. [See 2 Samuel 11-12]

We are told that King David is confronted with his moral turpitude by the prophet Nathan. I can’t imagine what a dreaded task that was for Nathan. But David admits his wrong doing and repents.

Tradition links David and his sins over Bathsheba with Psalm 51. The intense pleading for forgiveness and mercy in the wake of severe iniquity fits with the story of David and Bathsheba.

For most of us, the sins that we commit and for which we repent are not of the magnitude portrayed in the story of David. While we may be part of systems responsible for the life and death of others, not many of us are ever directly responsible for taking a life. While we may “lust in our hearts” like Jimmy Carter, only something like half of us will actually have extra marital affairs. [The statistics are vague and inconclusive. . .] But there is more to sin than murder and adultery and complicity in systems and institutions that perpetuate injustice and violence. There is more to sin than robbery and rape. There are the day to day betrayals of what is good and right and true, the hurtful, angry outbursts, the self centered choices, the apathy.

Maybe our worst sins are not so much the ones that we commit as the ones we don’t commit. Perhaps what is most offending to Divine Love is the good that we don’t do. Our lack of generosity. Our lack of compassion. Our lack of attention. Our lack of investment in working for justice and reconciliation. Our lack of commitment to peace-making. Our lack of service to others. In our reflection this Lenten season, maybe we should give some thought not to the bad things we have done but to the good things we have not done.

One thing is for sure. Our tradition tells us that God forgave David. He was freed of his iniquity. The presumption of Psalm 51 is that God forgives. So whatever we have or have not done, grace embraces us and there are new beginnings ahead.

Prayer
We go through life with all of its challenges and complexities seeking to do what is right and pleasing to God. Sometimes we hit the mark. Sometimes we do not. Our shortcomings can never exceed the scope of divine grace. May we accept the grace that is offered to us when we seek reconciliation and may we extend that same grace to others who have also missed the mark. Amen.

Images of physical suffering and affliction are found throughout the psalms. In Psalm 22, which we reflected on several weeks ago, there are graphic images of physical danger and threat:

Many bulls encircle me . . .
they open wide their mouths at me,
like a ravening and roaring lion. . .

. . . all my bones are out of joint;
my heart is like wax;
my mouth is dried up like a potsherd,
and my tongue sticks to my jaws;
you lay me in the dust of death.
For dogs are all around me,
a company of evil doers encircles me,
My hands and feet have shriveled;
I can count all my bones. . .
Deliver my soul from the sword,
my life from the power of the dog!
Save me from the mouth of the lion!

These are graphic images of physical suffering and threat. Such references are not uncommon in the psalms. There is often a sense of imminent danger.

In Psalm 51, the psalm assigned for this week, we hear some of the most intensive pleading for deliverance and mercy represented in the entire book of Psalms:

Have mercy on me. . .
blot out my transgressions.
Wash me throughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin. . .
. . . you are justified in your sentence
and blameless when you pass judgment.
. . . teach me wisdom in my secret heart.
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean. . .
Hide your face from my sins,
and blot out all my iniquities.
Create in me a clean heart. . .
Do not cast me away from your presence,
and do not take your holy spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and sustain in me a willing spirit.

The pleading is intense. The writer is clearly desperate and suffering. Yet there is no mention of physical suffering or physical affliction. Therefore, we can assume that the pain of the writer/pray-er is not physical, but spiritual. The one writing this psalm is referring to acute spiritual affliction. And sometimes the worst pain we experience in life may be spiritual, emotional suffering, rather than physical suffering.

Suffering of the body can generally be diagnosed and treated. We go to the doctor. We take the pills. We follow the prescribed therapeutic plan given to us by the medical profession.

Spiritual pain can be more complex. It can be harder to identify and sort out. It may involve other people which adds complications that we may have no control or influence over. Spiritual pain may affect every area of our lives. And it can be harder to address.

Being aware of the distress caused by spiritual pain can make us more compassionate toward ourselves when we are suffering in spirit. And it can help us to be more understanding and supportive of others who are in the midst of spiritual distress. It may be a time to turn to a pastor, a therapist, a chaplain, or a counselor for needed support.

Lent is a time for reflection and healing. The mercy and love of God can heal our spiritual suffering and free us from bondage to that pain. There can be fullness of joy for us thanks to the steadfast love and faithfulness of God.

Prayer
We offer our prayers for all those who are suffering in spirit. We pray for those whose lives are wracked by spiritual pain and affliction. We know that God intends peace for all people. May we seek the healing that we need to that we can know the freedom of peace and joy. Amen.