I remember taking a social psychology course in college. I even remember the name of the professor: Dr. Hiner. I wish I could tell you that I actually remembered what I learned in that course, but I’ve managed to have forgotten it in the last 17 years. But even though I don’t remember the content of that class, I do remember something the class taught me about human nature.
One day, our professor walked in sporting a cast from his shoulder to his wrist. Of course, the entire class’ curiosity was aroused at seeing our professor in this manner. The prof. knew he had some explaining to do, and he told us the story almost immediately.
Dr. Hiner said, "During the storm we had this weekend, a pretty good sized tree limb got knocked out of the tree next to my house. The limb was so big it didn’t fall totally to the ground. Part of it was resting on the roof of my house. My son, his friend, and I went out to at least get this thing off of the roof and completely on the ground. I climbed up onto the roof of my house. My son and his friend grabbed the bottom part and started pulling. I stood on the roof and started pushing."
Dr. Hiner continued, "As I stood there pushing, I began thinking, ‘This isn’t a good idea.’ And as the tree started to move a little, I thought to myself again, ‘This really isn’t a good idea.’ Suddenly, the tree gave way, and I followed it off the roof and broke my arm."
I can’t remember if we sat in stunned silence at that moment or if as a class we laughed. What I do remember is thinking, "Here is a guy with a PhD. He’s supposed to have above average intelligence, and yet, he stood on top of a roof and pushed a tree limb off knowing this wasn’t a good idea." But then I paused before I went any further because I know I’ve done many similar things.
Perhaps you have too. Perhaps you have found yourself in a situation where you knew, you just knew you were doing something that wasn’t quite right. You knew, you just knew it would be better for you to stop doing what you were doing, but you didn’t. You kept going and doing when your mind was screaming at you, "STOP!" Anyone here this morning ever have that experience?
I remember the last time this happened to me. It was a couple of weeks before Christmas. There was one strand of lights on the parsonage that wasn’t fully on. I was bound and determined to get all the lights functioning. I pulled out my ladder. I climbed up on it, and I proceeded to check each light bulb one by one to find the culprit keeping my lights from functioning properly. Suddenly, I found the defective bulb, but upon closer inspection, the bulb wasn’t defective. One of the wires which went directly into the bulb holder had somehow been cut. The problem wasn’t the bulb, but the wiring. "No problem," I thought to myself. "Just a quick snip and tie, and I’ll have the rest of the lights doing what they are supposed to be doing."
At that moment, I realized I didn’t have a wire cutter with me, so I reached in my pocket for my pocket knife. I thought for a moment that I was missing something. But instead of heeding that voice, I reached up and began to slice through the wire with my knife. Did you know it’s a very good idea to unplug Christmas lights after you’ve found a split wire and plan to cut them? Did you also know that it hurts like h-e-double hockey sticks when you get shocked into this realization? Oh, I don’t know if the entire neighborhood heard me scream or not, but I guarantee you, from now on, if I ever need to cut a Christmas light wire, I’ll diagnose, cut the power, and then operate.
And the thing is, I knew better. I knew what I should be doing. I had the voice warning me, and I still didn’t heed it. I knew what to do, but I just couldn’t do it. From the reactions of most of you earlier, I see that you are familiar with such a phenomena. You too know what it means to know what you are supposed to do, and yet you also know how difficult it is to do it.
Folks, we’re not the only ones to whom this happens. Take a quick read of our second lesson once again this morning and listen to the words of St. Paul, "15I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate." Listen to that statement one more time, "15I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate."
Paul knows what it means to stand on top of the house pushing a tree, knowing it is not a good idea, and still proceeding to push. Paul knows what it means to have a little voice saying, "Stop, you are missing something," and refusing to hear that voice and continuing on. Paul articulates it beautifully saying that he knows the right thing. He knows what he wants to do, but he does the exact opposite. His mind leads him in the right path, but his actions simply do not follow. "I don’t understand it," Paul says.
And then he goes further. Paul connects this to following God’s law and God’s commands. He says, "18For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. 19For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. 20Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. 21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. 22For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, 23but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members."
Paul is unabashed. He says, "I can will with my mind what is right. I can talk about the right thing to do. I can picture it up in my head, but when the rubber hits the road, I can’t do it." Paul continues, "I want to do good. I really, really want to do good. I want to say the right things. I want to do the right things. I want to lead as an example of holiness and righteousness. In the deep recesses of my mind and heart, I delight in the law of God. I want to follow it. I want to put it into practice because I know it’s the right thing to do, but when I start trying to do it, I fail. When I try to follow God, when I try to follow Jesus Christ, suddenly I find resistence within myself. Part of me rebels against doing what I know is right, so I know that part of me is not governed by God. Part of me is governed by sin. No matter how hard I try, I cannot overcome it."
Can you sympathize with Paul at this point? Can you understand where he is coming from? Can you also say that you know what the right thing to do is? Can you also say that deep down, you want to do what Christ commands? Can you also say that deep down you want to put less emphasis on material possessions and instead more emphasis on living a simple life? Can you also say that you want to spend more time in prayer and study but instead find yourself carried away by the business of life? Can you say that you want to spend more time being a better Christian only to find yourself caught up in the ways of this world?
If you do, you understand Paul. You understand exactly what he is wrestling with, and you understand Paul’s frustration with himself. You understand because you feel it to. You want to do what is right, but you become more and more frustrated when you just can’t do it.
So Paul screams out, "24Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?" I can’t escape this vicious cycle. No matter how hard I try, I’m continually caught up within it. Is there any escape?
And Paul answers his own question, "25Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, with my mind I am a slave to the law of God, but with my flesh I am a slave to the law of sin."
Yes, Jesus saves us from this cycle. Through His forgiveness, He saves us. We will never break out of this cycle this side of heaven. In good Lutheran terms, we will stay both saint and sinner for all our living days. But we know that it is Christ who will have the last word, who will redeem this sinful self of ours, and we can rejoice and be glad in this. Amen.
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