An accounting of sin is on its way

In King David’s famous prayer of repentance, Psalm 51, he includes this odd sentiment in speaking to God: “Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight.”

It’s an odd sentiment because, on first blush, it is manifestly untrue. If you know the story, David slept with the wife of one of his soldiers. Uriah was a member of David’s 30 “mighty men,” basically Israel’s “special forces.” He was away at the time, with the rest of the army, fighting David’s enemies. When Uriah’s wife turned up pregnant, the king went through some pretty devious steps to try to hide his sin, which eventually included murdering Uriah.

David murdered his own friend. He stole his wife, making her an adulteress herself, if not a rape victim. The baby died as a judgment from God. I mean, we’ve got human casualties all over the place here.

This being true, when David finally comes clean about it, he says to God, “Against you, and you only, have I sinned.”

You can see how that might strike a fellow as odd. It really isn’t, though.

Where do the stars go during the day? They must go somewhere, because we never see them when the sun is out, right? Of course, they’re still there, shining like always. But, they get so out-shined that we can talk about them only coming out at night. The brilliance of the daylight makes the twinkling stars disappear.

David’s statement here is hyperbole, exaggerating on purpose, wildly so, to make a point. The God David knew was supremely holy and righteous. The angels around God’s throne use their wings to block eye contact, as even they are terrified by his purity and power. The prophet Isaiah, seeing a vision of this, believed he would not survive the encounter, for the same reason.

As much as we may hate sin, especially sins committed against us personally, the Judge of all the Earth hates it more. He is more offended by it: So much more, in fact, that our own, temporary offended state practically disappears in comparison, like the stars in daylight.

This truth has a double edge to it, like a sword. It is comforting on one side, and horrible on the other. The comfort comes from knowing that God is not about to let sins go unpunished. Nobody, including that jerk that sinned against you, will escape ultimate accountability. God’s more concerned about righting the wrongs than we have ever been.

The horrible edge is this: We are those jerks who have sinned, and we’ve maybe even convinced ourselves that we got away with it. For some, time has hidden their crimes. Victims and witnesses may be gone. However, it was ultimately God who was sinned against, and time doesn’t dull his memory. An accounting is coming.

Space prevents me from spelling out how God has resolved this dilemma (that is, that all have sinned, and sin must be punished). But you don’t need me. Just start reading at the Gospel of John, chapter one. Don’t stop until you’ve found your answer.

Gordan Runyan is the pastor of Immanuel Baptist Church in Tucumcari. Contact him at:

[email protected]