Serving Bread

I will be the first person to acknowledge how fantastic my daughter is. I love her. I care for her, and in my opinion, she’s the cutest and the smartest 21 month old I have ever known. And over the course of the 21 months (30 months if you include the pregnancy), there is so much I have learned about life, about myself and about God because of her.

In the past week, I have begun to learn about sin. There are many parents out there who think their kids are the most innocent beings—and yes, children do have a sense of innocence about them (especially the younger they are)—but my little girl is teaching me about the human heart condition (more than I’d like).

Some psychologists theorize that maturity or the movement from adolescence to adulthood is the move from self-centeredness toward other-centeredness. Those who don’t make that transition we call narcissists. And though some call it a disease, narcissism is also sin.

It makes total sense that babies and children believe that it’s all about them; that the universe centers around them and their existence. This is an important mechanism that allows a child to communicate her needs to her care-giver. Yet at some point (21 months I will argue), the child learns to manipulate that communication and recognize certain power words. Layla has recognized that two words have power—No and Mine.

I know who taught her “No” (we did). I have no idea how she learned about “Mine!” She could have learned it by watching the other children at Sunday School or at the baby sitter’s. Or perhaps, something is ingrained in her that draws her toward asserting her authority on what is hers. While “Mine” is sometimes her way of telling us what belongs to her (a good developmental stage), she also uses it to tell others what doesn’t belong to them. Her ability to defy and to yell, “Mine!” or to just throw tantrums because she doesn’t get things her way, catch me off-guard. Is my little, innocent girl capable of … sin???

Here comes the theology…

Whether she learned this from others is of no interest to me. We can learn sin from others, but we are drawn to sin not because of others, but because of our evil hearts. Jesus breaks away from the religious teachers of his day by declaring that, “there is nothing outside a man which by going into him can defile him; but the things which come out of a man are what defile him” (Mark 7.16).

This statement confused the disciples who asked him for an elaboration. Jesus unpacked the metaphor then interpreted his teaching, “What comes out of a man is what defiles a man. For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, fornication, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a man” (Mark 7.20-23).

Layla may learn sin by watching others. I may learn sin by putting myself in situations where I am more open to the temptations, but ultimately, the blame lies with me and the evil of my behavior comes from within. (I agree with certain elements of John Calvin’s point of total depravity as this passage seems to be an appropriate defense of this doctrine) Humanity suffers with a corrupt and (sounds cheesy) “broken” hearts, and this corruption affects our whole body. It defiles us.

While there are factors that lead people to sin—institutional injustice, governmental and corporate corruption—to excuse our hearts in light of the defiled society we live in doesn’t capture the human condition.

Secularism (as portrayed in our media) likes to explore every facet of why we do what we do, by looking at the external factors. For example, the tragedy at Virginia Tech back in April focused the media attention to try to figure out all the factors that led Seung Hui Cho to do what he did. While those factors are important, they will never answer the question of why Cho did what he did. He has been defiled by murder which dwelt in his heart.

To the world, the tragedy remains as a shocking, isolated incident. And the solution is better gun control (I agree), racial profiling (I disagree), better security (maybe), more oversight/censorship (I disagree), etc… I don’t disagree that we need solutions to issues that instigate such problems. In fact, some of those solutions may be rooted in the ways that Jesus wants to bring transformation to institutions and to our culture. But if we never look at the human heart as part of that discussion, we excuse the human heart in the exercise of sin.

Both institution and persons are responsible. We contribute to the corruption that then corrupts us. As a rule of thumb though, I find it more helpful (and difficult) to more readily acknowledge my contribution in sin, rather than to always find an external excuse for it.

Jesus heals our broken and corrupt hearts. With Jesus, I have courage to not allow the things that reside in my heart to defile me. With Jesus, those things that reside in my heart, that corrupt me, will find healing.

Thank you Layla for teaching and re-teaching your dad that sin dwells in my heart. Lord, have mercy on me.