The Greatest Sin

Sin is a funny topic.  The vast majority of time, people only talk about it in relation to what others are doing.  The world is covered with people who are convinced they are sin finding experts.  Able to pick it out of a lineup or recognize its scent much as an Italian Grandmother can tell with one flick of a wooden spoon that the gravy is ready. 

But that isnt really what sin is about.  Being able to see it in others is one of humanities most worthless skills.  Much like being able to curl your tounge or name all of Carrie's boyfriends from Sex and the City or every batter that ever averaged above .325 for a season.  The beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  And only then because of whatever value the person places on their view of the fact- or the judgement. It provides no benefit to anyone else. At all. Ever.  

How many people have ever changed one item of their daily agenda because someone else called it a sin?  But how many have patted themselves on the back for calling it out.  Pranced like a peacock, totally satisfied that they have done the work of God on earth for calling out another's behavior.  Judge not lest ye be judged. That part must have been taught on the day they missed. Splinter in another's eye. Log in your own.  Nope, they have nothing.  I really wish I could attend your church Huckabee. That special bible you have in the pew must make for interesting reading. Like a redacted intelligence report from The CIA. Except who's innocence are you protecting?  Never mind though, for the irony is that their words are not what make the sin. Or even call it out for others. No. 

My lifetime has taught me something far more significant.  The only sin is mine. The only sin I can see and feel (or own) lives just under my breastbone. It only lives when I give it permission.  When the meditations of my heart and the words of my lips repeat the slanders of others.  Or, worse, when I start to buy into them.  Take them deep down inside for a long cuddle on a cold winters night.  Frame them. Hang them from my wall. Just under the "home sweet home" sign.  That is what sin is.  Letting the work of God, the creation of God, be soiled by the vocalized fear of others.  Taking their words as your own.  Believing for one minute that the chanters and protestors, the liars and the thieves are talking about you from truth when, in fact, its all about them.  Those times- when you allow your divine light to be dimmed- those are the times God sheds a tear.  Not that you have wronged God- not that you have done a bad deed- or lived a wrong life. No. The tear is shed because you looked in a mirror- saw the reflection of just what and who you were made to be- and said no.  God. Or Allah. Or the creator- you made a mistake. You didnt do right this time. I am a less than perfect image. And a less than perfect being.  Can you imagine any word more horrifying to your parents? Can we imagine any phrase more destructive to our beautiful place on this earth?  No. And God Cant either. And that is a sin.