Struggle Against Sin

Training for a marathon is one of the most physically demanding activities you can willingly put yourself through. And when race day finally comes—after months of training and hours spent pounding the pavement—you want to finish the race strong. But sometimes, that just doesn’t happen.

A runner at the 2023 London Marathon experienced this as he worked his way towards the end of the race. In a short video shared on Reddit, a man in a black cap begins to double over and is on the verge of collapsing as other participants whizz by. But before he falls to the ground, another runner comes from behind him and grabs his arm. He’s able to hold the runner steady enough to keep going. Shortly after, another person appears on the man’s other side. Together, the three runners make their way to the finish line.

It’s unclear if the men knew each prior to the race. But when it comes to marathons, finishing with a fast time is only one component. The camaraderie—knowing thousands of other people are doing the same thing as you—is part of what makes the experience so special. And helping someone in need? Even better. Though the three guys didn’t finish first, they won that day.

You can watch the 16-second video here.

Possible Preaching Angles:

(1) Community, Encouragement, Body of Christ—With our weaknesses and frailties, we all need the support of an encouraging community that will run beside us during the long journey of life. (2) Holy Spirit—This story also beautifully illustrates the presence of the Holy Spirit, the One called to be beside us, our Paraclete.

Before walking out of jail a free man in February, Albert Woodfox spent 43 years almost without pause in an isolation cell, becoming the longest standing solitary confinement prisoner in America. He had no view of the sky from inside his 6 foot by 9 foot concrete box, no human contact, and taking a walk meant pacing from one end of the cell to the other and back again.

Then in April 2016 he found himself on a beach in Galveston, Texas, in the company of a friend. He stood marveling at all the beachgoers under a cloudless sky, and stared out over the Gulf of Mexico as it stretched far out to the horizon. "You could hear the tide and the water coming in," he says. "It was so strange, walking on the beach and all these people and kids running around."

Of all the terrifying details of Woodfox's four decades of solitary incarceration … perhaps the most chilling aspect of all is what he says now. Two months after the state of Louisiana set him free on his 69th birthday, he says he sometimes wishes he was back in that cell.

"Oh yeah! Yeah!" he says passionately when asked whether he sometimes misses his life in lockdown. "You know, human beings … feel more comfortable in areas they are secure. In a cell you have a routine, you pretty much know what is going to happen, when it's going to happen, but in society it's difficult, it's looser. So there are moments when, yeah, I wish I was back in the security of a cell." He pauses, then adds: "I mean, it does that to you."

In states where it's not illegal, it's relatively inexpensive to buy and keep a baby lion or tiger—generally comparable to the price of a fine pedigree dog. Tiger cubs are incredibly cute and fun, except that in the space of just a year or two they become adult tigers weighing several hundred pounds and capable of ripping to shreds—and eating—their owners. What's more, tigers are notoriously untamable, fickle beasts, playful one moment and deadly the next, making no distinction between human friends and human enemies. When casual big-cat owners realize they can't control their now-adult tigers, they call Joe Taft, founder of the Exotic Feline Rescue Center in Indiana.

Joe's sanctuary for abandoned wild animals is the second largest in the nation and provides a habitat where lions and tigers and such can live out their days peacefully. Although Joe and his team try to avoid letting the big cats reproduce, sometimes, well, accidents happen. Cats will be cats, I guess. When there's a new cub born on the grounds at EFRC, it's hand-raised by humans until it is ready to live in the wild.

In 2002, Joe was raising one of these cubs in his own home. It was a boisterous, wild thing, growing bigger and bigger every day. Still, Joe was fully capable of controlling his tiger … until the man had a heart attack and subsequently underwent quintuple bypass surgery. As you can guess, having a tiger for a roommate—even a young one—was quite dangerous for a cardiac patient. Suddenly, Joe's own home became a very real threat to the weakened and recovering man. There was only one thing to do: Joe had a steel fence built around his couch. And Joe Taft spent the bulk of his recovery time caged in his living room, eyeing his things from behind bars while the tiger roamed freely through the rest of the house, pacing and roaring and keeping Joe a literal prisoner in his own home.

Possible Preaching Angles: Now, metaphorically speaking, guess which character in that story is you and which is the tiger. Sin is like a tiger, prowling 'round your life as if it owns you, threatening your very existence with its mere presence, staring at you through the cage that imprisons you—a cage of your own making. And you're the man on the couch, seeing freedom beyond the wire but too weak to master sin by yourself.

We are constantly bombarded with the threat of cyber-attacks—like foreign hackers trying to gain access to highly sensitive data, or like the Stuxnet attack that shut down a power grid. But there's a bigger threat to shutting down America's power grid, a sneaky, small, homegrown threat—squirrels. Squirrels have successfully attacked America's power grid systems 623 times, compared to the one time by outside hackers. So the score is: Squirrels - 623; Other Attackers - 1. As the story says, "The real cyber enemy lives inside—a true insider threat—and has been attacking national power lines for decades: squirrels."

Possible Preaching Angle:

While humorous, it does bring to light the idea that we can focus on watching out for the big attacks on our Christian life. And at the same time miss the tiny attacks that can cause the same amount of harm. In other words, the real threat may start from within.

In 2009, a German scientist named Jan Souman took a group of subjects out to empty parking lots and open fields, blindfolded them, and instructed them to walk in a straight line. Some of them managed to keep to a straight course for ten or twenty paces; a few lasted for 50 or a hundred. But in the end, all of them wound up circling back toward their points of origin. Not many of them. Not most of them. Every last one.

"And they have no idea," Dr. Souman told NPR. "They were thinking that they were walking in a straight line all the time." Dr. Souman's research team explored every imaginable explanation. Some people turned to the right while others turned to the left, but the researchers could find no discernable pattern. As a group, neither left-handed nor right-handed subjects demonstrated any predisposition for turning one way more than the other; nor did subjects tested for either right- or left-brain dominance. The team even tried gluing a rubber soul to the bottom of one shoe to make one leg longer than the other.

"It didn't make any difference at all," explained Dr. Souman. "So again, that is pretty random what people do." In fact, it isn't even limited to walking. Ask people to swim blindfolded or drive a car blindfolded and, no matter how determined they may be to go straight, they quickly begin to describe peculiar looping circles in one direction or the other.

Commenting on his performance in the gangster drama Black Mass, actor Johnny Deep said, "I found the evil in myself a long time ago, and I've accepted it. We're old friends."

In his book Newton: On the Christian Life, author Tony Reinke recalls a metaphor John Newton used to illustrate the effects of indwelling sin:

Imagine a Christian sitting down with a blank page and pen. He begins to write out his perfectly scripted life, explaining how he would love others, how he would structure his prayer life, or how he would [build a beautiful Christian family]. But indwelling sin and Satan crouch at his elbow, disrupting every pen stroke and messing up every word and sentence as our Christian friend tries to write the script.

At every point in the Christian life [our own flesh] and Satan jab our elbow, and our pen skids across the page as our perfect plan is reduced to scribbles. This is a metaphor of the Christian life with indwelling sin. Yet the biggest problem is that sin is not at our elbow—our sin is in us!

The spiritual disciplines … are so easy that any adult human being can do them. There are no particular skills required to be alone, to be silent, or to abstain from food. Yet on the other hand, they are so difficult, and so perfectly calibrated to reveal the true condition of our hearts, that no one can "succeed" at them. Indeed, the secret of the classical spiritual disciplines, and all disciplines that tame power, is how reliably they lay waste to whatever sense we may have of ourselves as competent agents in the world.

Take fasting and food, where I can offer a personal testimony to the humbling effect of the disciplines. My annual fasts during the seasons of Advent and Lent are darkly comical reminders of how completely undisciplined I truly am in my relationship with food. No matter how minimal the fast I set out to practice—one Lent it simply was leaving milk out of my tea—I find that I am almost never able to keep it to the end. Among the most pitiful moments of my life was that day, about two weeks into Lent, when I desperately and furtively opened the refrigerator, fully aware that I was breaking the most minimal fast conceivable but feeling completely unable to go on without milk in my tea. It was the sweetest, and the bitterest, cup of tea I have ever had.

When we practice the spiritual disciplines, we discover how deep runs our commitment to our own autonomy and comfort, and how addicted we are to the approval of others, the sound of our own voice, and the satisfaction of our appetites.

At her rental house, which she named "The Critter Café," Christine Bishop was a well-intentioned rescuer of stray cats, dogs, and lost ducks. Then someone dropped off a cage of pet rats. Soon neighbors were complaining of a stench from the house, and could see rats running outdoors.

When officials entered the house, they found the rats had totally over-run the house. They initially removed 1,500, and estimated that at least a 1,000 remained. The property-owner, Dale Carr, says the rats are feral, so "they'll bite, carry ticks and fleas, and are susceptible to rabies and disease." Township Supervisor Brian Werschem says this number of rats "… can breed 1,500 rats every three weeks, so if they're not removing them at a rate of 100 per week, they're not making progress."

The next step in the plan is to wrap the house and fumigate it, which "could cost the owner nearly $30,000, not including cleanup and disposal cost."

Pastor Timothy Keller paraphrases an analogy originally used by C.S. Lewis (in his book Mere Christianity) to demonstrate the nature of sin in our hearts.

Now if you want to know if there are rats in your basement, you don't walk to your basement door, clear your throat, and say, "I think I'll go down and see if there are rats in my basement," then jiggle the knob, open the door and in a very leisurely way turn on the light, clear your throat, and walk down the steps loudly and slowly. When you get to the bottom you look around and say, "Well, what do you know: I have no rats in my basement."

If you want to know if you have rats in your basement, you sneak up to the door, silently open the door, flick on the switch, jump to the bottom of the steps, and look around and they'll all be scurrying away. And then you'll know if you have rats.

Based on this analogy, Lewis wrote:

The excuse [for most of my sinful moments] that immediately springs to my mind is that the provocation was so sudden and unexpected; I was caught off my guard [like a rat who didn't get enough warning] … Now that may be an extenuating circumstance as regards those particular acts: they would obviously be worse if they had been deliberate and premeditated. On the other hand, surely what a man does when he is taken off his guard is the best evidence for what sort of a man he is? Surely what pops out before the man has time to put on a disguise is the truth?

In a 2014 interview, the actor Bill Murray was asked about his then current eligible bachelor status. (Murray went through a painful divorce in 2009.) Murray said it would be nice to have a female companion for special events, but he also admitted that he needs to work on himself first. Murray said, "There's a lot that I am not doing that I need to do."

When asked what, specifically, he felt was missing from his life, Murray replied:

Just something like working on yourself or self-development or something … I don't have a problem connecting with people. My [issue] is connecting with myself. If I am not really committing myself to that, then it's better that I don't have a different person [in my life].

Then Murray reflected on what stops us from looking into our own issues: "What stops [any of] us," he said, "is we're kind of really ugly if we look really hard. We're not who we think we are. We're not as wonderful as we think we are. It's a little bit of a shock … it's hard."

When Andre Agassi's memoir came out, the key revelation of the book was this: Andre Agassi—a former number one ranked player in the world, winner of eight grand slams and millions of dollars—hated tennis. Listen to this:

I hate tennis. I hate it with a dark, secret passion and always have. … I hate tennis, hate it with all my heart, and still I keep playing, keep hitting all morning and all afternoon, because I have no choice. No matter how much I want to stop, I don't. I keep begging myself to stop, and still I keep playing, and this gap, this contradiction between what I want to do and what I actually do, feels like the core of my life.

Possible Preaching Angles: Sin, struggle against; Temptation—In many ways, Agassi's struggle with tennis is like our struggle with sin—we hate it, but we do it anyway.

On August 11, 2014, the actor Robin Williams took his own life. The 63-year-old actor, who was loved by many fans and fellow actors, was an admitted abuser of cocaine—which he also referred to as "Peruvian marching power" and "the devil's dandruff." In 2006, he checked himself into a rehab center to be treated for an addiction to alcohol, having fallen off the wagon after some 20 years of sobriety.

He later explained in an interview with ABC's Diane Sawyer that this addiction had not been "caused by anything, it's just there." Williams continued, "It waits. It lays in wait for the time when you think, 'It's fine now, I'm O.K.' Then, the next thing you know, it's not O.K. Then you realize, 'Where am I? I didn't realize I was in Cleveland.'"

In his book Vanishing Grace, Philip Yancey shares a story about a World War II veteran, currently serving as a pastor, who had participated in the liberation of the Dachau concentration camp. At the end of the war, as the U.S. soldiers marched through the gates of Dachau, nothing could prepare them for what they found in the boxcars within the camp. The man said,

A buddy and I were assigned to one boxcar. Inside were human bodies, stacked in neat rows, exactly like firewood. Most were corpses, but a few still had a faint pulse. The Germans, ever meticulous, had planned out the rows—alternating the heads and feet, and accommodating different sizes and shapes of bodies. Our job was like moving furniture. We would pick up each body—so light!—and carry it to a designated area. I spent two hours in the boxcar, two hours that for me included every known emotion: rage, pity, shame, revulsion—every negative emotion, I should say. They came in waves, all but the rage. It stayed, fueling our work.

Then a fellow soldier named Chuck agreed to escort twelve SS officers in charge of Dachau to an interrogation center nearby … A few minutes later the crew working in the boxcar heard bursts of a machine gun. Soon Chuck came strolling out, smoke still curling from the tip of his weapon. "They all tried to run away," he said with a leer.

When Yancey asked if anyone reported what Chuck did or took disciplinary action, the pastor said,

No, and that's what got to me. It was on that day that I felt called by God to become a pastor. First, there was the horror of the corpses in the boxcar. I could not absorb such a scene. I did not even know such Absolute Evil existed. But when I saw it, I knew beyond doubt that I must spend my life serving whatever opposed such Evil—serving God. Then came the incident with Chuck. I had a nauseating fear that the captain might call on me to escort the next group of SS guards, and an even more dread fear that if he did, I might do the same as Chuck. The beast that was within those guards was also within me.

Yoga Journal is a popular American magazine that has almost two million monthly readers. A recent article by Sally Kempton, an internationally recognized yoga teacher, conveys her philosophy of life. In regards to the sinful nature, Kempton asserts: "Most of us long ago rejected authoritarian religion, with its talk of sin and insistence on eliminating the darker forces within us." Instead, she urges her readers to open their lives to the ancient Hindu warrior goddess Durga. Durga, she says, "embodies the inner power to transform yourself—let go of addictions, obstacles, and the illusions and fears that hold you back." She adds:

Become aware of the Durga Shakti as a shimmering presence around you … Offer your salutations to her. Ask her: "What is the major inner obstacle I have to face now? What do I need to let go of? What should I be paying more attention to?" Or, ask for her guidance in a decision or for the strength to stand up for something you know is right … Walk with the sense that the Durga is walking. Speak with the sense that Durga'a power comes through your words. Notice how you feel when you let yourself be filled by the energy of Durga.

The more you invite Durga's energy into your life, the more you'll feel her opening you to your inner warrior. Her power guards your highest aspirations, and she promises never to let you down.

Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Idols—Obviously, this is a blatant version of idolatry, but consider option (2): Discipleship; Hypocrisy; Lordship—Sally Kempton basically says that anyone can have Durga's power and benefits right now without even attempting to practice the basic tenants of Hinduism. Have we become guilty of the same thing when it comes to following Christ? Do we imply that you can receive Christ's power and benefits without repentance, dying to sin, obedience, discipleship, or spiritual disciplines?

In 1999, 25-year-old Christopher Miller was arrested after he forced employees into the back room of the Stride Rite shoe store on Hooper Avenue in Toms River, New Jersey. After a 15-year sentence, on Friday, March 21, 2014, Miller was released from South Woods State Prison in New Jersey. The very next day, Miller, now 40 years old, took a bus from Atlantic City to Toms River and went to the same shoe store.

Employees tell police that he entered the store and demanded cash, telling two workers to go to the back room. When the employees refused, Miller became agitated and took the cash register drawer, which had $389. He then took the workers' cell phones and fled on foot. Police say he was found a few blocks away, with the cash stashed in a gutter and the phones in a garbage can.

Toms River Police Chief Mitchell Little speculated, "Maybe [prison life is] the only life he knows, and the only thing he could think of was going back to the same store and doing the same crime again—getting caught and going back where he was taken care of and told what to do and getting meals and shelter and everything else."

Once upon a time, there was a boy who grew up in a household of faith. As a young man, he was quickly singled out as a top student who was marked by key political leaders. He moved to the big city, where the intellectual elites trained him and gave him responsibility. He moved up in the ranks, and the powerful people of his day considered him a rising star.

Then he fell passionately in love. But there was a problem: The woman he fell in love with was married—married to another power player. The tension intensified. The woman was desperate and the man was having nightmares about what would happen if their cover was blown. His career, credibility, and political alliances hung in the balance. One restless night he had a nightmare: he dreamed his secret love had been discovered. He pictured the horror of his betrayed and bewildered colleagues, the hysteria of the woman, the fury of her accusing husband, the political fallout. He woke up in a cold sweat. The next day, he fled town.

He travelled to a city far away to seek counsel with a couple renowned for their wisdom and discernment. He became physically sick there; his body broken down by stress and fear and grief and guilt. Those who tended him knew that his sickness was deeper than his physical symptoms. When they confronted him, it took all he had to finally to confess the whole mess. Their advice? It was time for a good, long spiritual retreat. And then, perhaps, for a new career. You can't lead anyone well unless your heart is right.

The man in this story is not a 21st century political leader in Washington, D.C. But he could be, couldn't he? That was actually the story of a man named Evagrius of Pontus, a church leader in the fourth century A.D. By age thirty-five, he was near the apex of success in the halls of power in the thriving city of Constantinople. But then temptation struck. When he headed south to Jerusalem, seeking the counsel of Melania and Rufus, they eventually sent him to a monastery where he could get his spiritual life in order. Evagrius needed time away from his life in the halls of power to understand the real power of sin. What he learned about sin's destructive potential is hard-won wisdom for us today.

Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Spiritual disciplines; Solitude—This story shows our need for spiritual disciplines that God uses to transform us before we can make a difference in the world. (2) Sin; Repentance—Evagrius and his fellow-Christians living in the desert talked about the seven (or eight) "deadly" sins. Ms. DeYoung adds,"The vocation to follow Christ, according to these early Christians, included both fighting against these powerful temptations and finding peace and freedom through a life of spiritual discipline and virtue."