Sermon (5th Sunday after Epiphany: 06 Feb 2011)

A few years ago I set my New Year’s resolution. I had only one – I hoped that with one it would be easier to keep on track for longer than the first two weeks of January! My resolution was to NOT add salt to my food. I had been advised by my doctor to cut back – not surprisingly, we’ve all been hearing lately how too much really is TOO MUCH! And I thought it would be easy.
I was wrong. Very wrong. See, I like salty stuff. I prefer it to sweets – popcorn, cheesy nachos, you get the idea. I enjoy salt so much that I would add it to most of my food at the table. The problem became that I was adding all this extra salt before I had even tasted the food – and so, I was getting used to too much salt. So when I cut it out, all food suddenly tasted bland. It took a while just to get used to the fact that I could taste food without the salt. I had trained my tastebuds and expectations so much that a healthy amount of salt had, in fact, lost its taste. Had I kept on in that path, I would constantly need more and more salt just to realise that I was tasting any of it. We can all imagine how my blood pressure would have gone up and up and up – until my health really suffered from it.
So now, I use salt sparingly. I don’t keep the salt mill on the table, I try other seasonings before going for the salt. There are some things that really benefit from salt, like eggs, and so I will use a little bit then. But I try to be careful not to get trapped again in the TOO MUCH category.

I could make similar analogies with light – how often do we leave lights on in the house that we really don’t need – and it seems fine at the time, until that electricity bill comes in... we as a society get caught up in the need for light too. Think of Times Square in New York City, or the inside of a casino! It’s never dark; folks that stay there lose track of their natural rhythms because they can’t tell if it’s day or night. Again, too much can be unhealthy. But a little bit can help to enhance – a little light at 3am will guide us to the washroom, instead of our stumbling down the hallway, crashing into walls. A fire in a hearth will give us warmth and ambiance; a fire of a house will leave us homeless.

We also have laws that are there for a purpose, to help us keep healthy restrictions. In the logic parts of our brains, we know that the laws are there for good reason and are in no way restrictive, yet we find ways to rationalise past them. Let’s think about speeding as an example. We all took a test to get our license. And we know that the speed limit out here is 100km/h on highways. It’s posted all over, just in case we forget. And yet, how many times do we see people zooming past at much higher speeds? How often are WE the ones doing that speeding? Not necessarily as fast as the record-setter in Quebec this past week (the Montreal valet who stole a BMW and was clocked doing 240 in a 70 zone –NOT the brightest bulb on the porch!) But most of us have seen that speedometer creep up, knowing that chances are we won’t get caught. Rationalising that 10 over won’t result in a ticket. And yet, how offended would we be if we DID get a ticket for doing 10% over the posted limit! What about 20, or more? Why do we think we’re different from everyone else once we get behind the wheel, as though we’re special enough that the law temporarily doesn’t apply to us.
So my question this morning is, how much is too much? Well, with salt, the government has given us guidelines so we don't poison ourselves. And with product labelling, it can be easily measured. With light, we can measure ourselves. We can turn off lights in spaces we’re not using, we can contain open flames to prevent disasters. And laws – well, they’re very clearly spelled out for us. And if we have any questions about them, our friendly RCMP will be glad to help us out.
So what about sin? How much is too much? How much can we sin, and still get into heaven? How much can we ‘get away with’ before we’re caught? Well, this is where we start to rationalise again... it was a little white lie to protect his feelings; I wouldn’t have been paying attention in church anyway so I came golfing; I *meant* to tithe but then there was a great sale on shoes; God would want me outside on such a gorgeous day rather than sitting inside reading the Bible; I’ll say extra prayers tomorrow, today’s the SuperBowl!... well, you get the idea. And we all do it. Unfortunately, we all do it too often. We ignore the basic commandment to love God because we think no one will know about our actions. Or that we get a certain number of ‘get out of jail free’ cards when it comes to sin.
There’s a movie that came out last year, called “The Invention of Lying” with Ricky Gervais. The basic premise is that no one can lie, ever. Until Ricky’s character tells his dying mother about a wonderful after-life. Word gets out that he has information no one else has, and because no one can lie, he’s believed completely. He’s immediately launched into a media circus as people want more information; so he starts telling people about the Man in the Sky who allows you into this great after-life if you don’t sin too much – and that you’re allowed 3 sins.
It’s an interesting premise, and sadly, one that we tend to subscribe to. When we rationalise away our sins, we start to believe that they aren’t sins anymore. And suddenly, small offenses are no longer seen as offensive. We get so good at rationalising things that the very clear line between sin and righteousness can become blurry. And very quickly, a little becomes a bit more, until suddenly our sin has gotten out of hand – and we’re still feeling that it’s okay. Just by asking the question “How much sin is too much” implies that we’re asking, like the people in the movie, so that we can plan out those sins now, to get more ‘bang for our buck’ as it were. Not a good place to be from – because then we are planning to sin.
The problem with sin is that it, by definition, takes us away from God. And so when we knowingly sin, and rationalise it, we’re essentially telling God that we know we’ve taken a step away from Him – and that we’re okay with that. So whether it’s a ‘small’ sin (or small step), or a large sin, (a large step), we’re being reminded today that every sin is a step away. And that every step away takes us further and further and further away from God.
So how do we reject the societal pulls that we feel toward sin, and turn to God for strength in the righteous life? How do we not justify our indiscretions when we inadvertently commit them? We begin to ask different questions. We don’t ask how far away we can walk from God before He rejects us, but how we might walk WITH God. As Isaiah tells us, “The LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail”. We stop deluding ourselves that if we aren’t caught in a sin, we’ve gotten away with it. We hold ourselves accountable. Our psalm reminds us: "Happy are those who fear the LORD, who greatly delight in his commandments." We do not presume to be all-important and self-righteous, but acknowledge our humility like Paul: "so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God."
This week, may we go boldly into the world to share the benefits that we carry within us: let us be a tiny amount of salt to enhance the world around us without overpowering or poisoning, let us be that light which offers guidance and illumination without glaring, let us encourage others to follow limitations by demonstrating the benefits of restriction in our daily lives. May we enter the world, walking as closely with God as we can, to be the honest and loving children that we are called to be.