That Filthy Fountain
“And he said, “What comes out of a person is what defiles him. For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.” (Mark 7:20-23)
Mankind may search the stars, but our own oceans contain creatures of which we have never seen. Late last year, the rare deep-sea oarfish washed upon the Californian shore. How did it get there? That we do not know; all we know is that the oarfish dwelt down below and is now here. Does that sound familiar to you? The human heart is one of deep waters, and the undercuts of that tumultuous current carries a cacophony of creatures of which we have never seen. However, from time to time, some wash ashore. Jesus calls them “evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, but foolishness.” Broadly speaking, these are all rebellions against God’s holy and righteous will.
Can I put on my pastor’s hat for a moment? When the flames leap out of the doors and windows of the house, the fire has been burning for quite some time. Rarely does someone wake up with an insatiable urge to steal. No, my friend. They have been coveting and contemplating this forbidden prize for some time. We may cover our anger and impatience, our slander and our sensuality under the “good ol’ boy” guise: “I’m not normally like this.” This statement may be partially true. We may not act like this, but behind our actions lies a cacophony of creatures that have never seen the light. As our forefathers would say, “the seed of every sin lies in our heart,” but only some receive the sunshine necessary to sprout. Stephen Charnock once stated: “Men’s practices are the best indexes of their principles.”
Our hearts are as slippery as a greased pig. We can barely pin them down ourselves, much less force them into greater scrutiny. But what of our actions? What of our thoughts? What of those violent pulls of passion? Many are content with saying “Jesus died for my sins” with the cold, calculated tone of one reading a nutritional label because we do not know Him nor His grace. Could it be because we know our sin in the same small measure? Have we paused to ponder how our actions spring from that filthy fountain of original sin? Have we grappled with the gravity of our heart’s sin that we may grasp the greatness of the gospel’s grace? Let me say this clearly. Jesus did not come to save good ol’ boys; Jesus came to save sinners. Until we understand that last word, we will not know the former.
