So I had to figure out a way out to get inside. Trying to get Heidi, our pet keeshond, to unlock the door to proved unsuccessful on previous occasions when I came home keyless. Well, I happened to be a big fan of MacGyver. It was only days earlier that I had watched him take the spring of a pen, uncoil it and effortlessly pick a lock. So, I figured since I watched him do it, how hard could it be?
Almost as easily as he picked the lock, I figured out I couldn’t. Once I became enlightened that my last name is Wetzel and not MacGyver, I had to figure out something to do with the rest of my time, so the thing that seemed most rational for me to do at that point was to take the tip off the pen and allow the ink to drip right outside of our back door. (FAQ: Q:What would make you think that’s rational? A: The answer remains unchanged. I really don’t know.) This occupied my attention for a few minutes and I quickly forgot about it and moved onto something else.
The story picks up later that evening. I’m downstairs and I hear my mom scream like someone just broke into the house. Remember that Keeshond I told you about earlier? When she wanted to come back in the house after being left out in the back yard to do run around and do things dogs do when left outside, she would jump up at the back door. Apparently dog paws make great stamps. When my mom left her in, she left a corresponding blue paw print with every step she took. Naturally, my mom yelling at her made her scared and she ran around more leaving behind more blue paws.
Did I happen to mention earlier that they had just gotten new carpet about 5 days prior to this event? My dad quickly picked her up and placed her outside until the messy situation could be dealt with. For whatever reason, my mom quickly assumed that I somehow had something to do with this and as I was so often summoned into her presence, I heard, “David William! Get up here right now!” with a just enough dramatic pause between to the last two words to keep the intensity and make even me understand it meant that I should come instantly.
My mom began to use a very effective, and often used, tool to get me to confess to things that I did that I shouldn’t have done. Really, she didn't need to ask. That had my signature all over it. I think she knew but just wanted to hear me say it. She asked, “David, did you do this?”
I replied with puppy dog eyes, “No.”“David William, did you do this?”
I quickly retorted, “No!”
She tilted her head slightly, put her hand on her waist and asked, “David, are you being honest?”
Hoping that the inevitable wouldn’t happen I answered, “Honest, mom!”
Then it was clear that she was using her honesty tactics to pull the truth from me because her eyes widened with intensity and she asked me yet again with her teeth barred shut, “DAVID, did you do this?” pointing at the blue line of paws going from the door to the living room.
“NO!”
By that point my face was most likely showing a bit of concern because I feared that this would continue until I confessed. Even if I hadn’t done it, the questioning usually would continue until I had confessed. That particular situation, oddly enough, never arose.
Somehow I managed to withstand another three minutes of, “David did you do this?” teamed with a myriad of frustrated and intimidating facial expressions. My parents found out the truth a few days later when I, for whatever reason, decided I thought it would be a good idea to tell my Aunt Sue what had happened, MacGyver and all. I wasn’t really the smartest kid in school. Somehow I thought that she wouldn’t go straight to my parents and tell them what happened.
Later that night, there was Hades to pay. They demanded the truth. So I told them... most of it. I told them that the pen had accidentally broken and started to leak while trying to be like my favorite TV character. It was only about a year or two ago that they found out the real and complete truth. I figured that it was far enough removed after 14 years that they wouldn’t be too upset anymore.
I had mindlessly committed this offense against my parents carpet. I thought nothing of the repercussions of my actions before I had done it. Thankfully my sister had learned in school that you can get ink up with hair spray and my mom managed to get the stains out, but the lesson still remains. My actions, as small or simple they may seem at the time, can have long lasting and destructive effects. The difference between standing on the edge of a cliff and enjoying the view and falling to your death is one small step.
How often is this the same situation in our spiritual walk. I’ve often found myself sinning against the Lord without even really thinking anything about it. It’s no big deal, right? So I lied to my parents. The ink came out of the carpet. Reality:It was no different than Adam simply taking a bite out of an apple. Small action, big deal, severe consequences.
Romans 5:12 Therefore, just as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned”
Revelation 21:8 "But for the cowardly and unbelieving and abominable and murderers and immoral persons and sorcerers and idolaters and all liars, their part will be in the lake that burns with fire and brimstone, which is the second death."
My simple lie to my parents was an offense against a holy God punishable by death. And because we don’t have the repercussions in mind when we sin, we mindlessly commit the act.
If my mother had been standing there ready to dish out punishment on me, I’m sure I wouldn’t have pulled the tip off the pen in the first place. If death were hanging there as an immediate and clear reaction to our sin, we would probably think again about choosing to sin. I understand we are sinners and we will sin anyway at some point. But, I think we would be a lot more careful if death were dangled in front of us.
To make it worse, not only does my sin deserve and bring about death, it brought about death to the Sovereign Creator of the universe. Because He decided to show graciousness to us, he bore the wrath that was a direct punishment of each of our sins both great and small. With this in light, how can we continue to mindlessly and without remorse (at least during the sin) commit sin?
My excuse has on many occasions been that it’s harder because He isn’t literally standing there as I sin. First, literally, He is there (Psalm 139). Just because you don’t see Him doesn’t mean He isn’t there. Second, 2 Corinthians 5:9 tells us that we must still just as diligently work to please Him.
“Therefore we also have as our ambition, whether at home or absent, to be pleasing to Him.”
Let us consider what our sin really is and what it really does. No sin is small. We get caught up in a human scale of what sins are worse than another sin. Sin, in it’s essence, is all the same. It is a rebellion against a holy God. And even though we may not have considered it at the time of the offence, it is that rebellion that has brought the penalty of death.
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