The baptized do not celebrate sin—they grieve it.
I was a fat kid before childhood obesity became a national concern. In first grade, I had to wear “Husky" pants from Sears. By 2025 standards, it is not really obese, but by 1970s standards, FAT.
Yes, I played sports, but I was always running in the back of the pack. Eventually, I found a lot of strength in my legs and played football and then rugby—where repressed anger and frustration could be channeled into something constructive. These weren't just sports; they became therapy.
But here's the question: Did God create me to be fat? Should I have celebrated it, paraded it, or demanded others affirm it? Should I have posted chocolate-smeared selfies as an act of "self-love"? That's nonsense, and let's face it: kind of creepy.
At sixty, the war within me hasn't ceased. The battlefield has just become more clearly defined: gluttony, envy, sloth, greed, lust, selfishness. I fail every day.
On good mornings, I remember to pray: "Lord, help me not to sin today, send your holy angels to protect me from the devil, this sinful world and most of all…me."
But above all, I remember this: I am a sinner, but I have a Savior. And in Christ, I no longer identify with my sin: that old way of life is not who I am anymore. Every day, Christ puts the old me to death again.
This isn't about moral improvement or pious resolution. It's about death and resurrection. The Holy Spirit is at work—killing and drowning the old Adam and raising a new man daily. That's metanoia, the Greek word for repentance. It's a turning. It's a divine gift—not your doing, but God's. It causes you to have a whole new outlook, finding that old way repellent.
Romans 6 captures it perfectly:
We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin (Rom. 6:4–7).
You are dead to sin. That's not a theory; it's your identity. In Romans 7, Paul famously declares, "It is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me." Paul is not playing word games. He refuses to identify with his sin anymore.
So when the culture celebrates "Pride Month," the Church must say, "No." Not out of hatred. Not from moral superiority. Heterosexual sinners are no more holy than homosexual ones. But the baptized do not celebrate sin—they grieve it.
The issue is not homosexuality alone. The Church is filled with people struggling with every kind of sin: lust, porn, fornication, gossip, pride, self-righteousness, sloth, and greed. If you look around the sanctuary, you're surrounded by sinners. And if they look back at you, they see one too.
But here's the difference: the baptized are not defined by sin. We are defined by Christ.
In the Church, God comes to us with his Word. In Holy Absolution, Christ's forgiveness is spoken directly into our ears, and it cuts straight to the soul: "As a called and ordained servant of Christ… I forgive you all your sins." That's not symbolic; it's reality.
In Holy Baptism, you are washed clean and clothed with the righteousness of Christ. In the Lord's Supper, his cup of mercy overflows—again and again, grace upon grace. The more clearly you see his mercy, the more repulsive your sin becomes. And the more you despise that old way and run to his arms.
In this life, you will stumble. You will suffer. You will sin. But be bold enough to call a thing what it is. As Luther said, "Sin boldly." In other words, be honest. Don't whitewash it. Don't hide behind euphemisms. Say it clearly: "Yes, I sinned again. I HATE IT! And thanks be to God, Jesus died for that one too."
Proverbs 16:8 says, "Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall." Pride in sin—any sin—is fundamentally anti-Christian. Why would I boast in the very thing my Savior died to free me from?
If I am to boast, let it be this: "Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord" (1 Cor. 1:31).
Not in myself. Not in my broken desires – even for an apple fritter. Not in my failures nor my pride. But in Christ alone. To God alone be glory!
