Training Grace

Too often we who profess to be Christian have a view of sin that dishonors God. We may view sin as incovenient and prefer to avoid the ultimately unpleasant consequences, but we lose sight of the true horror of sin, choosing instead to enjoy the fleeting and deceitful pleasures of sin, all the while presuming upon the grace of God to salve the wounds of sin that we do not genuinely despise and desire to kill.  The true horror of sin is that sin is in direct opposition to the revealed will of God. Regrettably, there are many occasions when my own response to committed sin or reaction to sin’s consequences is weak and selfish, lacking true gospel-centered, God-honoring, repentance. My prayer for myself and for all my brothers and sisters in Christ is that we never 1) fail to acknowlede the seriousness of sin; 2) cease to seek to put sin to death by the Spirit; 3) become so aware of the sins of others that we neglect the need to address the God-dishonoring filth in our own lives, or 4) cease to be interested in the struggles of those around us and fail to join and seek to assist them in fighting the good fight of faith, encouraging one another to endure by reliance on God’s grace. All mankind, both regenerate and unregenerate, are sinners and justly deserving of receiving the fullness of the wrath of God.  So, as we walk down the road of life in preparation for the eternity to come, let’s always be keenly aware of the sin in our lives and our reaction to the reality of sin’s seriousness and God’s holiness and mercy. Until next time, continue to joyfully pursue a deeper knowledge of and love for the Lord.

Read and be challenged and encouraged by the thoughts of Thomas Brooks (below)…

The best of saints are sinners

Thomas Brooks (1608-1680)

A child of God may slip into a sin—as a sheep may slip
into the mire. But he does not, and cannot wallow in
sin—as the swine wallows in the mire.

The best of saints are sinners, though the worst
and weakest of saints do not indulge sin or cherish it;
or make daily provision for it; or take daily pleasure
and delight in sin; or habitually yield a willing and
total subjection to the authority and commands of sin.

There is as much difference between sin in a regenerate
person—and sin in an unregenerate person, as there is
between poison in a man—and poison in a serpent.
Poison in a man is most offensive and burdensome, and
he readily uses all remedies and antidotes to expel it
and get rid of it. But poison in a serpent, is in its
natural place, and is most pleasing and delightful.

Just so, sin in a regenerate man is most offensive and
burdensome, and he readily uses all holy means and
antidotes to expel it and to get rid of it. But sin in an
unregenerate man is most pleasing and delightful, it
being in its natural place.

A godly man may have many sins—yet he has not
one beloved sin, one bosom sin, one darling sin.
His sins are his greatest grief and torment.

Every godly man . . .
  hates all known sin,
  would sincerely have his sins not only pardoned, but destroyed,
  groans under the burden of sin,
  combats and conflicts with all known sin,
  has fixed purposes and designs not to sin,
  has a sincere willingness to be rid of all sin.

No sincere Christian indulges himself in any
trade, course, or way of sin. “Oh,” says the
gracious soul, “that I could be rid of . . .
  this proud heart,
  this hard heart,
  this unbelieving heart,
  this unclean heart,
  this earthly heart,
  this froward heart of mine!”

O sirs, this is most certain—whoever gives up himself
freely, willingly, cheerfully, habitually—to the service
of any one particular lust or sin—he is in the state of
nature, under wrath, and in the way to eternal ruin!