A Reflection on Sin

Sin is one of those words that makes many of us uncomfortable. For some, it feels like a heavy word, loaded with guilt and shame. For others, it feels outdated—something belonging to a bygone era of preachers pounding pulpits. But if we’re going to take Jesus seriously, if we’re going to understand the story of Scripture, we cannot avoid it.

Now, here’s the challenge: it is possible to focus on sins in such a way that keeps us deeper in Sin. Let me explain.

When the Bible talks about sin, it doesn’t only mean the individual things we do wrong—lying, gossiping, lusting, stealing. Those are sins. But underneath them all is something deeper. Scripture speaks of Sin—with a capital S—as a power. A principle at work within us. Sin is the inward bent of the soul that enslaves us to live with one orientation: “my kingdom come.”

So yes, sins are real. They matter. But they are symptoms of something more pervasive.

They are the outward manifestations of this inner reality. To focus only on sins is like obsessing over weeds without recognizing that there’s a root system beneath the surface.

This is why the New Testament makes a distinction. Sin is not just about bad actions; it’s about a power that holds us captive. Paul writes in Romans that Sin is something that “reigns.” It rules. It enslaves. Sins, then, are expressions of that captivity.

And here’s the sobering truth: it’s possible to be morally upright and still deeply enslaved to Sin.

You can avoid all the “big sins” that make the list in church culture, but still live with a heart oriented around self. You can obey the rules and still be operating out of pride, self-sufficiency, or a refusal to love. In that sense, you can appear holy but be far from wholeness.

But here is the good news: Jesus came not just to forgive us of our sins, but to deliver us from Sin itself. He is not interested in mere behavior modification. He is after liberation. He wants to free us from the tyranny of “my kingdom come” and draw us into the joy of “thy kingdom come.” The Church, however, often gets this backwards. We tend to focus on the easy-to-measure stuff—sins. We create checklists of behaviors to avoid, and we congratulate ourselves if we’ve kept them in check. But holiness is not measured by a tally sheet. Holiness is about transformation from the inside out.

Christian holiness begins not with self-improvement projects, but with the slow, often hidden, transformation of the heart. And this is work that only God can do. It’s the Spirit who reorders our desires, softens our pride, and bends us outward in love.

And so, the invitation is not to obsess over sins in a way that keeps us bound in fear or shame, but to open ourselves to God’s deeper work. To allow the Spirit to get beneath the surface.

To let grace not only forgive us, but free us.

Because holiness is not ultimately about sin management. It is about love taking root. It is about being so caught up in God’s life that the power of Sin loses its grip, and we become people who live not for “my kingdom,” but for “thy kingdom.”