Stealing Candy from the Grocery Store

Suggested Reading: Psalm 51

I remember the first time I stole something. To the best of my remembrance, it was the only time I ever stole anything. I was about five years old, and my family had gone to a grocery store with a large bin of various kinds of candy. When no one was looking, I reached in and grabbed a five-cent piece of caramel candy and tucked it into my pocket. When we got home, I snuck into my room, pulled it out of my pocket, unwrapped it, and tossed it into my mouth. After I swallowed it, I realized (or maybe finally admitted), "I just stole something. That's wrong." There was no big emotional experience, I just realized that I had done something wrong and it should never happen again. I never told anyone about it until writing this. At least, I don't think I did (it was more than 35 years ago now). I never got caught. I just knew that I had done something wrong and I could never steal anything again.

In Psalm 51, a psalm attributed to David after he had committed adultery with Bathsheba and had her husband killed to cover it up, the psalmist makes the statement, "Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil  in your sight" (Psalm 51:4, NIV). In the context of adultery and murder, the immediate question arises, "Well, what about the man you murdered? Didn't you sin against him?" But David acknowledges the murder a few verses later when he pleads with God, "Save me from blood-guilt, O God," so David is not pretending that his sins were only spiritual or that it was one of those sins that "doesn't hurt anybody else." So how could David say that he had only sinned against God?

Well, in David's position as king, and in a day and age in which women were property and all people were subject to the whims of the king, there was no one to hold David accountable for what he had done. Technically, in the mindset of the ancient mid-east peoples, the king could do whatever he wanted simply because he was king. Yes, there were political consequences, but there was no way to hold a king accountable. So, in a technical sense, no one could hold David accountable except God. When the prophet Nathan finally confronted David about the adultery and murder, according to psalm 51, David immediately admitted his guilt and depravity, and he begged for God's forgiveness and for God's transforming power in his life.

At times, we are all like David. I was like him as a kid, stealing that piece of candy. No one else knew about it. There was no one to hold me accountable. I got away with it. The store probably never missed that one piece of candy. Only God knew. And while there was no major emotional experience, the realization of what I had done was enough that it affected me for the rest of my life, and I have kept that experience with me as a reminder never to steal again.

What is your secret sin? What is it that no one else knows about? What have you gotten away with? Have you faced it and acknowledged it? You may have only sinned against God but that is the most serious test of character we can face. When no one else knows, can we still own up to it and repent? Only after you've done so can you then say like David:

Have mercy on me, O God, according to Your unfailing love; according to Your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin…Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me (Psalm 51:1-2, 10 NIV).

Getting Embarrassed by Your Pastor

Suggested Reading: James 5:13-20

I was eighteen years old when I planned my first youth trip as a leader. I was the summer youth minister for a little church on the Texas coast and I was taking our youth group to Schlitterbaun Water Parks in New Braunfels. I was just beginning to drive long distance trips on my own, but here I was with a car full of youth, leading a caravan to a place I had never been. I had printed out directions but between not knowing where I was going and being distracted by all of the kids in my car, I ended up missing a major turn. Fortunately, our pastor was driving the car behind me and he pulled up beside me, got my attention, and we turned around and headed the right direction. Then I missed another turn. After the third missed turn, the pastor took the lead. I was a little embarrassed. No, I was a lot embarrassed. But, in the end, I was glad that he stopped me and turned me back in the right direction because I wanted to get to Schlitterbaun, not end up in Dallas. I've since gotten much better at driving long distances and making all of my own turns.

After all of the practical advice for Christian living that the book of James contains, it ends with the following verses: My dear brothers and sisters, if someone among you wanders away from the truth and is brought back, you can be sure that whoever brings the sinner back will save that person from death and bring about the forgiveness of many sins (James 5:19-20, NLT). In my experience, one of the greatest deterrents to pointing out when people have wandered away from the truth and into sin is the idea that we will embarrass them or hurt their feelings. This fear is a well-founded fear because nearly everyone gets embarrassed when their mistakes and bad choices are called to light. But letting them continue to wander can lead to far more devastating consequences.

I was embarrassed when that pastor stopped me and turned me around, but I was embarrassed because I was at fault. Ultimately, however, I would much rather have been embarrassed right then than discover my mistake an hour down the road or, even worse, when I was completely lost. But all that trip would have cost me would be a bunch of disappointed kids, angry parents, and a loss of trust. Wandering away from the truth can lead to life-shattering consequences and, just as I was ultimately glad that my pastor embarrassed me and turned me around, I would want someone to turn me around if I was wandering away from the truth and off into sin. I would want that person to turn me around gently and kindly, but I would want to be turned around.

If we truly care about someone, we won't simply let them wander away from the truth - we won't let them end up in a place they would never have wanted to go without at least trying to warn them and turn them around. Yes, they might be embarrassed or get their feelings hurt. But that is a small price to pay for saving them from tragic consequences.

I Stole It And I'm Gonna Keep It

Suggested Reading: Leviticus 6:1-7

Imagine you walked in from work one day and your brand new 55” flat screen television was gone. So you call the police to report a burglary and as they begin their investigation they notice no signs of forced entry. This makes you wonder. So, when the police leave, you head over to see a friend, a friend you trusted so much that he had the spare key to your house. When you walk into his living room. Sure enough, your brand new television is sitting right there in his entertainment center. Now, imagine your friend, caught in his crime, immediately drops to his knees, weeping and begging for your forgiveness. You’ve known and loved this friend for years and this is the first time he has ever done anything like this. So, you decide to grudgingly accept his apology. But when you move to pick up the television to take it back home, your friend stops you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the friend asks.

“I’m taking my new TV back home,” you reply.

But then your friend astonishes you, saying, “Wait. I’m not giving it back. I’m sorry for taking it, but I’m going to keep it.”

Would that be enough for you? No. You would want your friend to make the situation right. Just to prove he was sorry, you would probably appreciate him doing a little something extra for you, like washing your car or paying you a rental fee for the television. You might not require it, but something extra would go a long way toward proving he was genuinely sorry and toward helping you to forgive him, right?

As absurd as that scenario is, we sometimes have a tendency to act like that thieving friend. We might not do something as obvious as steal a television, but we hurt people and cause them pain, we steal their time and efforts. We fudge our time at work or borrow money that we never intend to give back. We keep that nice dish that somebody loaned us and “forget” to give it back. We spin the facts about an event to make ourselves look good (and someone else look bad, by extension). We find a cool gadget and neglect to inform its owner. And when we finally feel guilty enough we want to go to God and ask for forgiveness, but we don’t want anybody to know what we’ve done so we only tell God.

This tendency in ourselves is why God commanded in the Law of Moses, “When someone sins and offends the Lord by deceiving his neighbor in regard to a deposit, a security, or a robbery; or defrauds his neighbor; or finds something lost and lies about it; or swears falsely about any of the sinful things a person may do—once he has sinned and acknowledged his guilt—he must return what he stole or defrauded, or the deposit entrusted to him, or the lost item he found, or anything else about which he swore falsely. He must make full restitution for it and add a fifth of its value to it. He is to pay it to its owner on the day he acknowledges his guilt. Then he must bring his restitution offering to the Lord” (Leviticus 6:2-6, HCSB). In the case of the law, God wasn’t even interested in accepting an offering until the sin being atoned for had been set right.

Now, Jesus has atoned for our sins and covered us because we are simply incapable of making right every sin we’ve ever committed. But as people who claim to love God and follow His Son, shouldn’t we want to make it right when we’ve done something wrong? Shouldn’t we care enough to right our wrongs and correct our mistakes and not simply try to get out of being punished for our wrongs? Shouldn’t we be humble enough to admit when we’ve acted sinfully and do our best to make up for it when it is within our ability? Shouldn’t we do the right thing?

We can’t simply ask God to forgive us. To the best of our ability we must make the situation right and correct our wrongs. If we’re going to apologize, we need to return the television, too.