If Genesis 4 tells us anything, it is that sin disrupts our worship of God. While God created humanity to bless them (Gen 1:28) and live out God’s image (Gen 1:26–27), sin peeled away this blessing, and the curse came (Gen 3:14–19). Ironically, Adam and Eve thought that they would become like God by eating of the tree (3:5), even though they were already like God in his image (1:26–27). Tragically, because of their misconception of what it meant to be in the image of God, they were barred from God’s presence.

Sadly, as the narrative continues, we learn how the “sinfulness of sin” marred the worshipfulness of worship (Genesis 4). The stories of Eve and Cain show us how pride and hate wreak havoc in our service to God. And yet, God is faithful when we are faithless.  He can use even our failure to bring us back to repentance and worship of him. This is seen specifically in the two narratives when Eve trusts in Yahweh’s promises, and Cain repents. I know that the first question that pops in your mind is “What? Wasn’t he just a reprobate? Cain repented then? ” My answer to that question is yes, I believe he did (at that one time). Though this might be a hard sell, I believe the text leads us to this conclusion without having to spiritualize the text or simply read it as “ancient history” with no present relevance today.    Continue Reading…

This is the four-year anniversary of the worst fire in Los Angeles history. It destroyed 500 homes, including mine.

It was 2008 when the Sylmar fire jumped from the foothills into the city. I was a college student, and was still living in my parents’ home. I was one of the worship leaders in the college ministry at my church (Grace Community Church), and I was completely comfortable in life.

I was out with friends, and received a phone call just before 11:00 PM from my sister. There was a fire approaching our home, and our family was evacuated. I raced the fire crews to my house, and had about 10 minutes to grab whatever I could. My family then stopped and prayed in our driveway. That would be the last time we would ever stand there—by morning everything we owned was burned to the ground. Firefighters said that the heat of the fire was so intense, our house had melted into its concrete foundation.

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The truth is that we all sin. But it’s also true that we have the power to overcome sin. Consider Paul’s argument in Romans 6. He tells us that we have died to sin (Rom 6:2) and that the body of sin has been brought to nothing (Rom 6:6). He argues further that we are free from sin (Rom 6:7) and that sin will have no dominion over our bodies (Rom 6:14). This happened, says Paul, when we believed in Christ. Thus, we died with him in a death like his and were raised in a resurrection like his (Rom 6:3–5). In short, sin died when you believed.

Still, no one is sinless (1 John 1:10; cf. Rom 7). Remarkably, we both live with the power to overcome sin and yet daily battle sin. The tension between these two opposing principles will not disappear this side of eternity. Sin and the power to overcome it through the Spirit (Rom 8:4) describe the our life-long dual. This rough fabric of sin rubs against our flesh, causing all sorts discomfort and pain. At the same time, the smooth silk of holiness is a balm and refreshment to us. We wear a garment sewn with both cloths, though we true believers only want the garment of holiness.

It is because of this tension that believers must learn to rout sin. After all, if we have the power to overcome sin, we had better learn to use that power. A major reason why our fight against sin seems powerless is because we have wrong views of sanctification. There are about four ways people try to rout sin. The first three ways unconsciously weave sin into our coats, while the last way allows believers wear a a coat of holiness. To be clear, I am not advocating a sinless existence before Christ returns, but I am advocating that through the Spirit we can put to death the deeds of the flesh (Rom 8:13).   Continue Reading…