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We live in societies that call evil good and good evil, putting darkness for light and light for darkness, bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter (Isa. 5:20). Moral categories are grossly confused. Resistance to personal responsibility is potently developed. The root of the matter lies in twisted notions of sin, themselves the result of warped views of God and proud views of self.
We face cultures that deny guilt aggressively and yet seem perpetually crippled by guilt. Even so-called cancel culture is a tacit nod to the power of guilt. A simple experiment provides an interesting insight. Speak to an unconverted friend or stranger about sin, and I suspect that in many cases—even if they claim to have no thought of God—they will quickly begin to profess their own goodness. But why care if there is no God? Why does that matter if there is no accountability? Even those who loudly and proudly trumpet their unembarrassed sinful indulgences protest too much, or have a conscience fearfully seared and resistant to guilt and shame—they have forgotten how to blush (Jer. 6:15).
The instinct is to excuse our sin. Like Adam in the garden, men and women point the finger of blame at others: our parents, our spouses, our children, our colleagues, our environment. It is always someone else’s fault. We blame nature or nurture, but our habit is to evade and avoid any charge being laid on our own hearts. Ultimately, like our first father, we are effectively blaming our sin on the God who put us in a position where we could do nothing else.
How do Christians respond? How do we teach men to blush once more? How do we stimulate a proper and accurate spiritual sense of guilt—one’s liability to judgment at the hands of God Almighty? Our ultimate aim is not simply to produce a sense of guilt but rather to send people to Christ for the removal of guilt.
To that end, we need to become legal preachers, in the best sense of that word. When he was explaining the gospel to the Romans, Paul began with the law:
Now we know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God. For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin. (Rom. 3:19–20)
The Jews had the oracles of God, but even the gentiles had the work of the law written on their hearts (2:15), a conscience that had some sense of right and wrong. So now we are at least aiming at the right target (the human heart) with the right weapon (the holy law of a holy God). Paul knew what it was to have his covetous heart exposed by the good commandment (7:7–8). There needs to be an application of law to the sinful heart to awaken a sense of guilt.
But for this there must be something more than human argument. When Paul reasoned with Felix about righteousness, self-control, and the judgment to come (Acts 24:25–26), Felix was stirred into avoiding Paul. When Paul spoke to Agrippa, he was almost persuaded (26:28). For this persuasion to grip, we need the Holy Spirit to “convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment” (John 16:8)—to work a sense of sin that turns people to Jesus Christ. Such holy confrontation need not be aggressive. Nathan brought David’s sin to light by way of a parable of sorts. We do not know how Nathan spoke to David, saying, “You are the man!” It does not need to be bellowed or howled (2 Sam. 12:7). In God’s hands, the accusation produced profound guilt and true repentance (Ps. 51).
We need to proclaim the holiness of God and the stringency of His law, relying on the Holy Spirit to convict of sin, righteousness, and judgment. We cannot afford shallow wounds or to heal those wounds lightly. We need the probe of the law to stir the conscience before we offer the balm of the gospel. After all, Christ came not to call the righteous but sinners to repentance (Matt. 9:13). That does not mean that we ignore, dismiss, or minimize the guilt of others who may have committed sins against the person to whom we speak. The soul that sins must die (Ezek. 18:4). The son does not bear his father’s guilt, nor the father the guilt of the son: “The wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself” (v. 20). But that is the point. The God of all the earth shall do right. He shall do justice to all, according to His own perfect standard. What we need to explain is that it is God’s standard applied to all, not my standard applied to everyone but me.
Christians might begin by being ourselves a people of greater honesty and humility. In our sermons, in our songs, in our public prayers of confession, in our interactions with each other, are we a people who have not just a proper sense of guilt but a healthy sense of joy because sin has been forgiven and guilt removed through the blood of Christ? The Apostle Paul shifted from being a self- righteous man to possessing a sensitive soul and a vigorous and ever-increasing sense of his own sin. Running parallel with that awareness was a profound sense of divine grace and a sweet comprehension of Christ’s saving work. True guilt need not be a barrier to peace with God but ought to be a step along the way to it.