The Grace of God in Sin

Inevitably, when the Church does her job well, to the Glory of God, as faithfully as she can, the pushback always becomes the same as it’s always been, and that’s because it has always worked for a time, sometimes a very long time.

Convincing the Church to be just like the world.

Cultural Compromise

The pattern is as old as the covenant people themselves. Again and again God’s own are seduced not by open persecution or obvious heresy, but by the quiet, appealing invitation to live just like the nations around them. The tactics never change. The enemy still uses the same bait. And we still take it.

Consider Balaam. When curses from the high places failed, he taught Balak a more effective strategy. Scripture records the result: “While Israel lived in Shittim, the people began to whore with the daughters of Moab. These invited the people to the sacrifices of their gods, and the people ate and bowed down to their gods. So Israel yoked himself to Baal of Peor. And the anger of the LORD was kindled against Israel” (Numbers 25:1–3). Later the Lord makes the source of the scheme explicit: “Behold, these, on Balaam’s advice, caused the people of Israel to act treacherously against the LORD in the incident of Peor, and so the plague came among the congregation of the LORD” (Numbers 31:16). The risen Christ Himself confirms the same diagnosis to the church at Pergamum: “But I have a few things against you: you have some there who hold the teaching of Balaam, who taught Balak to put a stumbling block before the sons of Israel, so that they might eat food sacrificed to idols and practice sexual immorality” (Revelation 2:14). What military force could not accomplish, sensual comfort and religious syncretism did in a single generation. The men did not set out to renounce Yahweh; they simply preferred the easy fellowship of the surrounding culture. The result was plague and the zeal of Phinehas.

Centuries later the remnant returned from exile under Ezra. The temple was being rebuilt, the Law was being read, yet the men of Israel had taken foreign wives. Ezra tore his garments and sat appalled: “The holy race has mixed itself with the peoples of the lands… For they have taken some of their daughters to be wives for themselves and for their sons, so that the holy race has mixed itself with the peoples of the lands. And in this faithlessness the hand of the officials and chief men has been foremost” (Ezra 9:2). Easy living—family alliances, economic advantage, the soft habits of the nations—proved more attractive than covenant faithfulness. The leaders themselves led the way.

Hosea names the same disease with brutal clarity. The Lord tells the prophet to love a woman who is an adulteress, “even as the LORD loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins” (Hosea 3:1). Raisin cakes—sweet, common, associated with pagan feasts. Not dramatic idolatry at first, just the everyday preference for the flavors of the world over the feast of the covenant. “My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge,” Hosea declares (4:6), yet the deeper root is disordered love. They know the words; they simply prefer the cakes.

It is always our love of the world that kills us. “Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world” (1 John 2:15–16). The church in every age faces the identical pressure: soft assimilation rather than sharp separation. We adopt the world’s categories of success, the world’s entertainment, the world’s definitions of tolerance and identity, the world’s ease, and then wonder why the salt has lost its savor. We still fall for Balaam’s counsel. We still prefer the easy living of Ezra’s day. We still love the raisin cakes.

Today

Today the trap has a new face, but the same heart. In a culture starving for the supernatural, many are returning not to biblical obedience but to a vague “spiritualism.” People chase experiences, signs, and inner feelings while bypassing the hard call to repent and obey. False religions and occult fascinations flourish outside the church. Inside it, false teachings multiply that promise a higher plane of Christian life without the daily cross. One common form is the doctrine of a “second blessing”—a subsequent crisis experience of the Spirit after conversion that supposedly unlocks power, victory, or fullness unavailable to ordinary believers. Scripture knows no such division among the regenerate. All who are in Christ have been baptized in one Spirit into one body (1 Corinthians 12:13). Teaching a second-class citizenship of Spirit-filled versus non-Spirit-filled Christians creates a spiritual caste system and distracts from the ordinary means of grace and simple obedience. (The When of Spirit Baptism)

Other versions of the same evasion abound: endless pursuit of new “revelations,” overemphasis on personal prophecies or emotional highs, or any system that treats holiness as an optional advanced level rather than the normal fruit of union with Christ. These all share one root—they allow us to feel spiritual while avoiding the plain demand of Scripture: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15). They are modern raisin cakes—sweet substitutes that leave the soul undernourished and the life unchanged.

God is not finished with us. His grace remains greater than our chronic unfaithfulness. I was reminded of this recently in a very ordinary crisis. A spider bite—something small, almost dismissible—turned serious enough that surgery seemed certain. On Facebook I shared the unfolding concern. Yet after a night of sleep with different meds, the trajectory reversed. What had pointed toward the operating room ended with me being sent home. No drama, no spectacle—just quiet, undeserved mercy. The same God who preserved a remnant through exile, who pursued Israel through Hosea’s marriage, who turned the curse of Balaam into blessing, still interrupts our self-inflicted wounds with unexpected kindness. He is patient with a people who keep choosing the world and its counterfeit spiritualities. That patience is not permission; it is a summons.

The call is simple and urgent: wake up. Examine the loves that shape your days. Where have the women of Moab been welcomed? Where has intermarriage of heart and habit with the surrounding culture been excused as pragmatism? Where have raisin cakes—or the modern equivalents of second blessings, experiential shortcuts, and spiritual consumerism—replaced the bread of life and the path of obedience? The world is not neutral. Its comforts and its spiritual counterfeits are calculated. Its approval is expensive. Christ purchased a people for Himself, a holy nation, that we might proclaim His excellencies, not blend into the darkness or invent new ways to feel close to God without walking in His ways (1 Peter 2:9). Holiness is not optional decoration; it is the family resemblance of those born of God.

Prayer

Father, we come before You knowing how easily we fall for the same old traps. We confess that we have loved the world more than we have loved You. We have listened to the counsel of Balaam, chosen the easy path like the men in Ezra’s day, and chased after the raisin cakes of this age. In our own time we have run after spiritual experiences and false teachings that make us feel close to You while we quietly avoid simple obedience. Forgive us. We have no excuse and no merit of our own.

Thank You that Your patience has not run out. Thank You for the blood of Jesus that covers every one of these sins. By Your Spirit, cut us free from the loves that pull us away from You. Give us hearts that hate what You hate and love what You love. Make us a people who walk in real holiness, not counterfeit spirituality. Keep Your church from stumbling over the same stones again. Have mercy on us, for the sake of Your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.