The Sense of Sin by W L Watkinson

A true sense of sin implies the consciousness of the fact of our sinfulness. Intellectually speaking, at different periods we estimate ourselves very differently. Whilst still young, we were confident and self-sufficient. But years bring experience to all, and sense to some, and looking back on our earlier selves we are distressed: we see how egregiously vain, stupid, and intolerable we were. The older man knows that his younger self was a fool.

1. A true sense of sin implies the consciousness that our sinfulness is personal. “Your own evil ways.” Ezekiel is the prophet of individuality, and here he singles out the individual sinner, seeking to bring home to the consciousness of his personal fault.

(1) Before we become truly awake to sin we delude ourselves by identifying it with nature. Just as certain laws of nature work out eclipses, volcanoes, earthquakes, and blizzards, so we imagine that other laws of nature work out in murderous tempers, greedy appetites, wrathful and defiant lusts and disobediences. We are fond of boasting of our ability to control the laws and forces of nature — taming the lightning, harnessing Niagara, and coercing sun, storm, and stream into our service: intellectual pride gloats over these triumphs; but as soon as it becomes a question of responsibility for our moral faults, we are in haste to abase ourselves, and to plead that natural laws and forces ride rough. shod over us.

(2) Again we delude ourselves by charging sin back upon our ancestry. Our failings are inherited, and are not therefore properly ours. Men and women never cordially give the credit of their strength and beauty, their wit and virtue to their ancestry, these they coolly and emphatically claim as distinctively their own; but their anger, pride, gluttony, and selfishness are unblushingly debited to their grandfather. It will not do. Much about us is inherited from man, but a little something about us is inherited from God.

(3) We blind ourselves by blaming society. All men are dominated by the spirit of the age, and the community is blamed for the lapses of the individual. Yet how often do men who argue like this in regard to their sordid and soiled character boast of their social independence and proceed proudly to set the community at defiance! If their commercial advantage or political ideals are at stake, they are good against the world; but when society constrains them to vanity and vice, no choice is left them but meekly to succumb! No, no; our sins are our own.

2. A true sense of sin implies the consciousness of its hatefulness. The text speaks of evil with the sense of horror and loathing — “detestable” things, “iniquities,” “abominations,” “filthiness,” “uncleanness.” How tenderly and apologetically certain writers speak of ghastly vices! The true thinker must know no anger or contempt in the presence of a crime; he must regard it with the indifference with which the chemist regards a poisonous drug, or the naturalist a poisonous flower. Again Bourget writes: “The artist admits that there are virtues which are not lovely, and corruptions which are splendid, or, rather, he cares nothing for virtue or for corruption. He knows that there are beautiful things and things that are ugly, and he knows nothing else.” It is altogether another thing when the soul is convinced of sin and judgment. “Ye shall loathe your own face,” declares the text. As a patient afflicted with a malignant disease shrinks with horror from the sight of his own face when for the first time he looks in the mirror, so does the convicted sinner shrink at the sight of his heart and life as revealed in the light of God’s holiness. “Ye that fear the Lord hate evil.” “I repent and abhor myself in sackcloth and ashes.”

3. A true sense of sin implies the consciousness of its guilt. “And shall judge yourselves unworthy to live.” We judge ourselves, condemn ourselves, pass the sentence of death upon ourselves. We instinctively feel that the difference is simply immeasurable between a mistake and a sin. A man may be liable to punishment for a mistake, as it involves culpable carelessness; but a simple error of judgment, a lapse of memory, an oversight, belongs to a mild category compared with the deliberate breach of the moral law. We feel that the difference is infinite between a misfortune and a sin. When one is overtaken by blindness, crippled by rheumatism, smitten by fever, or shattered by an accident, we do not blame and punish, we pity and help; but a transgression of God’s law awakens quite another order of ideas and sentiments. The penitent stands face to face with the righteous and loving God, and is filled with surprise, grief, and shame. He has done what deserves utterest reprobation, and is worthy of death. The sense of sin is first created by the Divine Spirit causing us to see and feel the purity and love of God, especially as these attributes are revealed in Jesus Christ. This is the golden ground against which sin stands out in terrible relief. And the sense of the folly, shame, and peril of sin becomes more acute all through the regenerate life.

(W. L. Watkinson.)