Asymptomatic sin
One of the most bizarre characteristics of Covid-19 is that you might have the virus, and spread it, without experiencing any symptoms of the underlying disease. This is one of the features which makes the current pandemic so dangerous, and instils so much fear. The idea that my workmate, or my housemate, or my neighbour, who appears perfectly healthy, might be the unwitting vector of a deadly disease - or, worse, that we might be those vectors, spreading death to our loved ones even as we socialise with them, is the stuff of nightmares.
But Covid-19 is not the worst asymptomatic disease we might carry.
Respectable Sins
The late Mike Ovey, in his posthumously-published work The Feasts of Repentance, makes a compelling case about idolatry as the fundamental sin, that which must be repented of by Gentiles as well as Jews. (Regular readers of this blog might recognise that I slightly disagreed with this notion a couple of weeks ago. Mike was my dissertation supervisor at Bible college, and I grew used to him expressing ideas which I immediately disagreed with, then came to realise were true after six months of hard thinking. So I'll let him have this one.) Ovey makes the point that because the underlying disease is universal, the outward behaviour - which might be markedly different in different people - can be understood as symptoms of the same malady. Some sins are undoubtedly more destructive than others and will be judged more harshly; and yet there still remains something of an equality to sin:
[We might raise the objection that] one's own sins are trivial, understandable and so much less bad than examples of genuine evil. Again the principles that particular sins are outworkings of something deeper assists us. It would be like congratulating oneself one has only the sneezing symptom of bubonic plague rather than the more painful symptom of swelling buboes. It does not alter the underlying problem of having a fatal disease.
Michael J. Ovey, The Feasts of Repentance, 99.
In Jerry Bridges' memorable phrase, some sins are Respectable Sins. Behaviours like discontentment, ingratitude, pride, and selfishness (to borrow from some of Bridges' chapter headings) may not result in any immediately destructive outward behaviour - they may lie dormant for an awfully long time, carried asymptomatically in the sinner's heart. But they are symptoms of the same disease which might lead another man to rampant sexual immorality or murderous violence. As Jesus said to the Pharisees - those fine, upstanding, respectable, religious men:
“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness."
Matthew 23:27-28
This is particularly dangerous in church circles, where the expectation is that we ought to be growing in godliness. This is of course true, and at best creates a sort of sanctified peer pressure, where we set each other good examples to follow (Phil 3:17) and so spur each other on to love and good deeds (Heb 10:24). However, it also carries a concomitant danger - that in church circles, pleasing God and pleasing man look the same. Someone might be growing in outward godliness because their heart is genuinely being shaped by God's Spirit towards Christlikeness. But it is possible - at least for a time - that someone might give every impression of godliness but is in fact harbouring unrepentant sin, or even an unregenerate heart. The asymptomatic carriers of the disease of sin may be walking alongside us; they may even be us.
The limits of an analogy - and two myths
Of course, this analogy eventually breaks down, as all analogies do. If we catch a virus, we are not usually culpable - we are usually innocent victims. But sin - even if we are in one sense victims of it - is our fault. Moreover, no sin is truly asymptomatic. An unregenerate heart will reveal itself in all its ugliness in time. We only have to consider what Jesus taught us in the Parable of the Sower, or the warnings of many of the epistles of the New Testament against those who call themselves believers and yet are unmasked by their lifestyle (Jude 4, for example).
But perhaps we can push the disease analogy one step further. A wise friend of mine once introduced me to two related myths which we are tempted to believe: the myth of containable sin and the myth of contagious righteousness.
The myth of containable sin
As the long weeks in lockdown continue, we hear many reports of people breaking the quarantine and social distancing rules for their own convenience, some more high-profile than others. The person who reaches past you at the supermarket and quickly mutters, "it's OK, mate, I haven't got it"; the neighbours who gather for a barbecue on their front lawn and huddle ever closer as the night draws in, assuming that as they all feel fine, they are fine. That would be all to the good if the disease were obvious; but if it is carried asymptomatically, such behaviour is both foolish and selfish.
But similarly, we excuse sin on similar grounds. We struggle with a repeated sin, but every time we do it, we convince ourselves that next time, it'll be different. We lost our temper a bit there, yes, but it was a one-off: "it's OK, I have it under control." Or we repeatedly fall into temptation in private, in a secret attitude of the heart or lustful indulgence; but we think "it's OK, I'm not hurting anyone." We convince ourselves we can contain our sin, that we can keep ourselves asymptomatic.
But it's a myth. Sin will always do damage. It will always grow larger, always get worse, always lead to greater indulgence, always damage our relationship with God - who judges the secrets of our hearts in any case - and with others. As we discussed previously, even locking ourselves away from other people can't stop sin finding us, because we carry it with us all the time. As John Owen famously put it, "be killing sin, or it will be killing you."
The myth of contagious righteousness
On the other hand, though, we'd be wrong to think that godliness works the same way. Perhaps if we really are unregenerate, or harbouring unrepentant sin in our hearts, we think that it'll all be OK if we just rub along with other Christians and hope something of their godliness rubs off on us. But as Hebrews teaches so devastatingly, it is entirely possible to walk with the people of God, to share their fellowship, to engage in their practices, and yet to have a "sinful, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God" (Heb 3:12). We might be in better habits and even be morally "better" people - but it does not mean we are cured of the underlying malaise of sin. (This perhaps once again shows up some the limitations of James K A Smith's emphasis on liturgical practices as shaping us - see my earlier post The reading religion for more.)
Who can heal us?
So what is the cure? If we might carry the disease of sin and yet still be outwardly respectable; if we can walk with God's people and not have godliness automatically rub off on us; if we could be ticking time-bombs that might be spreading the bitter gall of unrepentant sin to others; if we could still be under the wrath of God and yet not know it because we are "good people"; what hope is there for us?
Hebrews tells us.
See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.
Hebrews 3:12-13
A regular, attentive listening to the Word of God, in the context of a loving church family, when met with ongoing repentance and faith - this is the God-given cure for our underlying disease. Jesus Christ is the great healer, the doctor who came for the sick - he alone offers forgiveness for our sin (and its damaging consequences) and the help of his Spirit to put it to death. We must be people who drag our sin, kicking and screaming, to the surface - not pretending we can contain it or hoping it will go away if we just go to church enough - but confessing it to one another (James 5:16) and actively turning away from it, knowing we have an advocate for the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, who pleads his precious blood on our behalf and for our forgiveness.
Or, as Colin Buchanan put it, rather more catchily:
Ze baddest sickness in ze vurld is sin,
Every single heart has got it in,
You've got to come to Jesus,
He's ze only one who heals us!
Yes, the baddest sickness in ze vurld is sin.We're all in this position,
We need the Great Physician,
His wonderful salvation is our one inoculation,
Yes, the baddest sickness in ze vurld is sin!Colin Buchanan, Ze Baddest Sickness