I was asked by a friend recently, "What's the dumbest thing you've ever done?" "Like the biggest sin?" I asked to clarify. "Yeah," they responded.
As I took a moment to tick through the mental list of "don't's" and "bigger don't's" to see which ones I had tried, wanted to try or passed by over the last several years it occurred to me that it was pointless to categorize things which are all of equal insignificance to God. So instead of searching my memory for my “worst sin” I focused on remembering those times I'd spent with God where I experienced truly memorable repentance.
Before I continue I'll say this about why I deemed my “sin list” as insignificant to God. To Him, I believe, my sins are all equal in weight because he bore each one with the same measure of pain and willingness. Variation in their significance applies more to me; their severity being based mostly on how deep I had to get trapped in them before I once again took hold of grace and passed through them into the freedom that remains available to me from all my sins at all times because of what Jesus did in through his life and death.
Now let me get back to the question.
Which sin then, defined by my standard of depth and hardship above, was the worst I could remember committing? “Where to begin?” I asked myself.
Who doesn't, at least by their mid-twenties, have a plethora of scenarios to choose from in response to a question like this? Illegal activity of creatively inspired variety, predictable sexual experimentation, substance enhanced diversion from reality, expertly chosen words in the heat of a family feud or a badly ended relationship; they all seemed like applicable options and all were likely choices for exposure in this surprisingly candid conversation.
However, when I searched my memory for those times when I felt truly repentant those typical scenarios weren't the instances that came to mind. Granted there are, some among those mentioned above, plenty of moments which I am not at all proud of that I have needed forgiveness for but the times when I have truly felt my failure have been much more personal and unique to my own heart. There are so many times when I have run from God in the intimate and challenging moments that are just between us, times when I have wasted the gifts he's given me and so many opportunities to be like him where I have chosen to back away and watch life happen instead of bringing life like he's made me able to. Those are the opportunities I most regret missing. It is in these moments of personal disobedience that I feel the strongest pain of Jesus' longing for my heart, the times when I could choose his life but I choose mine instead.
As the conversation with my friend continued this idea of repenting for "just not loving God enough" seemed very trite and even self-righteous to him. "What is the big deal if the worst thing you have to repent for is just not quite loving God enough?" he asked.
I'll admit that at the time I did wonder if it wasn't quite pious or self-righteous of me to see things that way. Was I just trying to dress up my selfishness and make it sound like my best attempts at holiness just weren’t "quite" up to par. Such a mild presentation that would be of my secretly dark heart, I thought. I knew the list of disobedient, selfish moments and bad choices in my life was as long as anyones and it didn't sit well with me at all that a conceivably self-righteous answer was the best conclusion I could come up with in response to this question. Trite sounded like an accurate description of my answer as I thought through the testimonies of so many others and how far in contrast their sins and their redemption seemed from one another.
I have been around religion and religious people the majority of my life and have learned enough about traditions and rituals to appreciate and respect them but have also learned enough to know that I want my relationship with God to exist as far from their perimeters as possible. I've got enough lists of “ought to do's” and “ought not to do's” that I could probably write my own religious handbook, if I so desired. Though truly the way I strive to live is in such a way that I say as much as I can about what I believe by how I live my life and in this way using as few words as possible on the matter. Love God and love people...more than you love yourself. That sums it all up.
All the do's and don'ts God ever took the time to explain fall into these two very plainly stated and entirely overwhelming categories. Jesus called these the greatest commandments there are. A while ago I decided there were too many guidelines and grey areas of personal conviction to keep track of in the scope of a lifetime but i knew I could at least start with the two Jesus said mattered the most and work from there. What I have now realized is that these two guidelines make up the substance of all the rest. As if they weren't profound enough in their simplicity these two goals to live life by are completely and irrevocably interconnected. It is impossible to accomplish one without the either, period.
God understood that humans need human interaction. Nearly all of our primary ways of expressing ourselves require interaction with each other on some level. Of course God wants us to express our love for him in tangible ways and at the same time He knows our inherent need to receive love in tangible ways as well. So what does He do? He gives us one another to be both the receivers and the givers of the love He has filled us with. It's tangible, it's real, it is something we can participate in and it truly does cover over a multitude of sins. I'll be the first to admit that I have certainly missed the mark as I've tried, and even more often when I forgot to try at all, loving people as they come my way. I try my best to both see them as Jesus and also see them the way Jesus sees them.
All the "don'ts" I have tried, or made bad habits of along the way, which I regret are my human moments of missing my goal of loving God because they somehow result in me mistreating people in the process. As I learn to ask myself what would be most loving for others, considering them first like Jesus did, I no longer need rules to determine sinful and righteous behavior. My guidelines are simple; Love God, love people.
As I process this boiling down I've done of my religious education and as I examine how, reduced by time and tears and truth, it has led me to the path of experiencing God for myself I can say that my answer to the question which inspired this introspection is still the same. However, I am not so embarrassed or discouraged by my conclusion as I was before.
If I fail in my pursuit of the greatest commandment ever given, to love God, then it makes sense that for this failure I would need the most significant repentance. For in all the foolish, selfish or impulsive expressions of my identity or my immature misadventures that lead to sinful things and things that interrupt the intimacy Jesus worked so hard to make available to me, I have not known a single instance when God's mercy didn't gently guide me back to rest in Him with grace and tenderness . However, when my heart becomes callous and I no longer see the people around me as the body of Christ which I am designed to love and live for, when I am not giving out the love that Jesus took pain to pour out on me then yes, it requires brokenness to bring me to repentnce and it holds much greater heaviness on my heart when I do not. I pray that I never lose understanding of the weight of my own redemption.
It seemed trite, at the time, to think that I could say only that I had not, from time to time, loved God enough. However, if I love Him with any less than my life completely I should not waste my life trying at all because I am not, if fact, alive at all if I am apart from His love.
