That is the title to a very famous song from The Cathedral Quartet.
In Romans 7:15, Paul tells a familiar tale. I want to do the right thing all the time, but I don't. I don't want to ever sin, but I do.
I think that is the story of our lives -- even Christ-followers. We were born in sin, and after accepting Christ as our savior, we still live in a sin-filled world. We are still prone to sin. And, if we are honest with ourselves, when we head down that path of sin, we end up someplace we did not want to go.
I was reminded of this truth this past weekend when a friend of mine admitted his sin. The public announcement of his moral failure was laid out for all to hear...on the evening news, no less.
His high-profile status as a pastor meant that his actions have impacted many people in some fashion. My heart is broken for he and his family.
My friend's "downfall" is very public and very painful. It's easy to point and wag fingers at a time like this. It's hard to still love and care about the "fallen." It's easy to have sympathy for those hurt by the actions. It's hard to admit that I am just as vulnerable.
Sin is a slippery slope. One insignificant thought can lead to a small action, which can lead to a moderate sized activity, which leads to a tremendous trip you did not plan on taking. Sin really does take you farther than you want to go.
I am reminded of a message I preached a couple of years ago about establishing guardrails in our lives to keep us from harm. See, guardrails are always placed in a safe place along the road -- usually about a foot or two away from the danger zone.
The same idea applies to how we live. We need to plant barriers in our lives that are well inside the "safe zone." I'm reminded of guys like Billy Graham, who never travels without a male companion from his organization; and David Jeremiah, who never meets or travels alone with any woman except his wife. These men placed barriers in front of the danger zones, so they would never be tempted to do something that might cost them their ministry.
I want to reference a couple of blog posts other pastors have written to ministry leaders. Perry Noble talks about prevention. Gary Lamb talks about his experiences after having an affair and losing his church. Both are worth the time you will take to read them. Both should scare you enough to safeguard your walk with Jesus, your ministry to your family and your ministry to others.
In conclusion, this was not an easy blog post to write. It wouldn't be for you, either. We all have junk that we do not want exposed to the world -- stuff that would disappoint the people around us. We should take moments like these and not say, "I'm glad that wasn't me." Instead, we should use these moments to do a self-review, and weed out the crap that doesn't need to be there.
My friend sinned. I am upset over that fact, and the consequences it will have on other friends of mine. It would be easy to be angry at him. But, I, too, have sinned. We all have sinned. We all fall short of God's high standard. We are all in the same boat.
Jesus was nailed to a cross and died to pay the penalty for our sin. And, it's that perspective that allows me to say that I still love my friend as a brother. I pray that he gets the help necessary to repair his life and the lives of those around him. I hope to some day see him restored to a point that God can use him again.
