When I was younger, I used to think of sin as a crime. Sin was breaking the law, and God was the red lights flashing in my rearview mirror, the Cosmic Cop pulling me over to the side of the road. Sin was infraction. Rule-breaking.
But here in the fifth decade of my life, I now think of sin as sickness. God is not the police. God is not the judge, jury and executioner. And while I'm fully aware of the judicial imagery in the Bible and the creeds, and believe that framework is necessary for prophetic critique, this isn't the dominate theme in my walk with God. God isn't handing me speeding tickets. God is, rather, my healer, my doctor, my medicine, my relief.
The prophet Jeremiah cries out, "Is there a balm in Gilead?" In Jesus we find our answer.
