On occasion, my wife and I will watch Dragnet. If you aren’t familiar with Dragnet, it is an old black and white police show. Joe Friday is the no-nonsense sergeant trying to rid LA of all that plagues society. Top on his list is stamping out narcotics—especially marijuana.
We love to watch Dragnet because Joe never fails to give us some pretty fun zingers. He’ll give a lengthy speech to some strung out hippie. Its interesting to watch Dragnet some 40 years after it aired and see how much society has changed. Joe Friday would be laughed off the streets today. If my generation wants to understand what our parents and grandparents think about the world, just watch Dragnet and listen to Sergeant Joe.
The other night Joe was on the listening end of a lengthy speech by a passionate hippie. The beatnik was putting together an argument that sounded similar to one that we hear today. He referred to his repetitive drug use as a victimless crime.
“I’m not hurtin’ anybody man. I’m just going on a trip. Why does that matter to you, man?”
Of course his argument was met with a pretty snappy one-liner from good ol’ Joe. That logic didn’t carry the day quite yet back in the 60’s. But now the flower child of the 60’s has taken his seat in Congress and his “I ain’t hurtin’ nobody” logic has somehow entrenched itself into our collective brain.
This argument crosses over easily into the theological realm. Why does God really care if I’m only hurting myself? Is it really that big of a deal? Some sin, on the surface, seems to be mostly victimless. After all how does my personal and private sin have any bearing on you? I can understand God getting upset about things which impact other people—like greed, murder, rape, theft, etc, you know, those things in the second table of the 10 Commandments. But why does God care about some teenager masturbating to a photo he finds on the internet?
Or, why should Christians really care if two consenting men (or two consenting females) have a committed and sexual relationship with one another? Does it really impact you? How does this personal and private decision impact you and I?
There are two big reasons why your personal and private sin has an impact on me? Or, I could just as easily say, “Here are two reasons why my personal and private sin has an impact on you.”
The God Lens
Reason number one: God doesn’t view the world through the Western eyes of individualism. In our culture the supreme virtue is to be “true to oneself”. We highly value preserving the autonomous self. To think that God would view us as a collective or as a community feels wrong. We’re cool with the idea of community but we like this so long as we are able to be individuals within a community (usually of our choice).
We view the world through the lens of self. We then wrongly assume that the lens through which God views the world is similar to ours. But what if God views the world a bit more through Eastern eyes? What if “preserving the harmony of the community” is a greater goal? What if “Jesus viewed us—his church-as a collectivist community”? (This is the argument put forth by Richards and O’Brien argue in Misreading Scripture With Western Eyes).
This changes everything. It means, then, that my personal and private sin does have an impact on you because we are brought into union. Just ask a wife whose husband is engaging in a pornography addiction whether or not his “private” sin has an impact on their relationship. Unconfessed sin by one member within the local church has an impact on every member within that local church. This is the case because the Lord doesn’t view us primarily as individuals. He views us as a collective.
Consider the sin of Achan in Joshua 7. One man sinned and everyone suffered. God views the church as a similar collective. A local church can be impacted by their own Achan. God hasn’t changed simply because we’ve become more individualistic. He still views his people as in union with one another (as we are together in union with Christ).
A Caveat
Now I do believe that because of the Cross the world is less divided along the lines of nationality. In other words, I’m not sure if I have the grounds to say, “God views America as a collective. God will judge every person in America based upon the sin of some.” I believe there is some truth to that, but I’m convinced that the Cross obliterated such cultural distinctions. I have more in common with my brother in Christ who lives in Iraq than I do a red-blooded American who doesn’t know Jesus.
I believe I can say that God’s judgment will fall upon a nation who engages in wickedness. And I can also say that if I live in that particular nation then this execution of judgment will have an impact upon me. But I cannot apply the sin of Achan in a one-to-one fashion to the state of America. Yet, the sin of Achan does apply to the state of the local church.
So, then, is the hippie right? Does two consenting homosexuals in a committed love relationship with one another have no impact on Christians? Are we just being curmudgeonly and sticking our nose where it doesn’t belong?
The Sin of Omission
Now, first and foremost we argue against homosexuality out of love for our fellow man. If we truly believe that homosexuality is sin—and we believe what the Bible says about sin leading to death—then we would be terrible people to just passively sit by while one destroyed himself.
But that’s not the argument. The argument is that if a man wants to destroy himself then we should just let him, because it doesn’t impact us. And that is where I’m saying, “poppycock”. Such logic only works if the gospel isn’t true.
If the gospel is true, and it is, then God created humanity to enjoy Him and to extend His glory. Sin is to rebel from this calling. It is to instead promote our own glory and to enjoy creation rather than the Creator. This is not a victimless crime. It impacts all other image-bearers as well.
Think of it this way. If I was hired by a company to sell hot dogs in Maine, but I decided to instead dig a ditch in a small town in Montana, I’d be rebelling. But I’d also be impacting two communities. There’d be a gaping hole on the hot-dog selling front in Maine and there’d be two guys doing the job of one in Montana. By doing one thing I’m not doing another. And by not doing that other thing—I’m impacting folks.
If God created you to enjoy His grace and to extend His glory—and to do that in a very specific way which does not include engaging in this particular sin, then to do anything but is to impact folks. Your glory-dropping has an impact on me. Likewise in the ways that I fall short of God’s glory you are going to be impacted.
So trying to argue that your private and personal sin doesn’t impact anyone but you really doesn’t work. For non-Christians and especially for Christians.
Conclusion
This would be a terribly depressing point if all I’m saying is that my sin impacts you and your sin impacts me, therefore stop your sinning. Though true in part, such advice is woefully inadequate. My point here is to say that we cannot go around pretending like our sin is victimless and therefore not an offense to God. In as much as we do this we’ll live in unconfessed sin which will impact our community.
Rather than trying to cover your sin with silly arguments and fig leaves it’d be much wiser to own up to it, repent, and turn to Christ for healing and forgiveness. Because of our union with Christ our very personal and private sin impacts Him. But it is also true that because of our union with Christ His very personal and private righteousness impacts us. That is a reason to celebrate.
