Pulled Out of the Rut

Romans 6:12-23

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Today we find ourselves in an interesting season. And I’m not talking about the fact that at 4:24 this morning we officially entered into the season of summer. And I also know that today is Father’s Day, which would be nice if it were a whole season, but alas, just like the mother’s we get but a day. We should take a moment though to acknowledge the fathers among us and thank you for all that you do to lead your families, love your wives and children, and take seriously the important task that God has given to you as a father. You are appreciated.

Today I’m not thinking about winter, spring, summer, or fall. I’m thinking about the seemingly never-ending road construction season. It spans all of the other seasons and seems to have as much impact on us as the heat or the cold, the rain or the snow. I took three of my kids to camp in Three Lakes last Sunday and to get there we travel on the stretch of 29 from Green Bay to Wittenberg (WI, not Germany) before turning north to get to the camp. It’s 65 miles of normally pleasant and smooth sailing. But last week, and I imagine today as well as I head back up there, nearly half of that stretch, some 30 miles was reduced from the normally two lanes in each direction, to one, by an endless array of orange traffic cones. 30 miles. And what was more amazing than that was that there was not a worker in sight. Nothing torn up. No equipment looking like it would be ready to be fired up and used on Monday morning. Just a single lane promising the potential that something might be done at some point in the future.

At least around here stuff seems to be getting done. Granted, it’s mostly pouring fresh oil and loose gravel on the roads, but something’s happening. That, by the way, is a phenomenon I don’t recall having experienced in other parts of the country. Fresh oil and loose gravel. I guess it helps, but until it’s all packed in you have to take it a little bit easier on the roads so you don’t start sliding around on all those loose rocks. And to try to preserve your paint job from getting nicked up by all the flying stones. And what happens is that a track begins to get packed down where the car tires run and then you just want to stay right there and follow the grooves.

Which got me to thinking about driving on dirt roads up in the Adirondacks. Generally, they’re in pretty good shape, but if you get heavy rains what happens is that the big logging trucks drive over them and begin to create pretty heavy ruts. And then the smaller cars either try to straddle the ruts or just give in and drive in them as well, hoping that their undercarriage doesn’t scrape in places where they’ve gotten really deep. And if they do get too deep, you might not make it out. Being “stuck in a rut” is such a bad experience that we use the phrase to describe any long-term situation that we get stuck in as we follow the same routine day after day and week after week. Your job, your relationships, your weekend routines can all leave you feeling “stuck in a rut.”

In our Epistle for today, the apostle Paul reminds us that we were stuck in the worst rut of all: our sin that leads to death. But through the waters of Holy Baptism, Christ has freed us from that rut and has placed us back on the path of righteousness that leads to eternal life. What Paul wants us to see is that

CHRIST PULLS UP OUT OF THIS RUT OF SIN

SO THAT WE MIGHT LIVE IN RIGHTEOUSNESS.

          But even though we know that we’re freed from our old master, sin, it’s very easy to fall back into that rut. And that’s what sin becomes when we allow it to. It becomes a master. We’re all born with original sin and under its power and unable to free ourselves from it. Sometimes we recognize specific sin and work to get out from under its hold on us. Trying all kinds of ways to release its grip on us. And yet, our own efforts can’t ever break the hold it has. Sin will always be there lurking in the shadows, waiting to take hold of us.

It’s really not hard to see it as you look around in the world. Sin is everywhere. And we certainly can’t claim that it’s not a massive burden for us. I like the World Cup which is being played here in the US right now. I like it because I was always a soccer player and enjoy the sport, but I also like it because it brings people from all over into one place. And the world seems to be enjoying the United States, if you can believe all the things you see on the internet about the fascination they seem to have with Waffle House, Buc-Ees, and ranch dressing. Sometimes I’ll think about how it might be better somewhere else, or whether those people from far off countries visiting the US think that we’ve got it better off than they do.

And then I think, no matter where you go, you’re going to encounter the same thing. Sinful human beings doing sinful human things. We just can’t help but fall into those ruts. Because every little thing that causes us to stumble can become a path we find ourselves on again and again. Ruts are easy to form, and very difficult to get out of. It’s like muscle memory. Once you do the same thing over and over again, your body tends toward that motion because it’s trying to make things easier for you to not have to take up brain space thinking about the minor things in your life. But the same thing happens with sin. We carve this rut by doing the same thing many, many times, and before long it’s the thing we default to. We’re in the same situation and therefore we tend to do the same thing. Even when we know it’s not how God wants us to act. It’s just a little bit of a fantasy of mine to spend some time on a deserted island. No one there but me. But you know what, I’d still find some way to sin.

But it’s not all bad news. Christ has freed you from sin and claimed you as his own. In Baptism, God joined you to Jesus’ death and resurrection. Paul says in today’s reading that you are “those who have been brought from death to life.” That sin that’s in you was put to death with Jesus, drowned in the watery grave of baptism. What that means is that sin’s grip on you was broken when you received the forgiveness Jesus won for you on the cross. When He claimed you as His own. When we recognize all of this by faith, we can also realize that our real Master is loving and gracious and will help us fight the sin that can too easily overtake us.

As your new Master, Christ has claimed you and your whole being for righteousness. That’s what Paul’s talking about when he says, “Present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and your members to God as instruments for righteousness.”

That’s your whole life, being lived for God’s sake, not your own. Where your hands were once used to steal or harm, now they can be used for generosity. Where your feet may have been used to take you places you shouldn’t be, not they can be used to carry you to worship and meet your neighbor’s needs. Where your mind was once a place of scheming and thinking ill of others, now it can be a place to consider the good in others. And where your tongue had once been so quick to lie and slander, it now can be the instrument of God’s praise and the tool that lifts each other up.

Because now that you have been claimed by Christ, your bodies belong to him for righteous use. Paul says, “Let not sin . . . reign in your mortal body.” Of course, sin still resides in us, seeking to rule us again, but with the help of the Lord, we can resist it. And because the Spirit of God now works in us to walk in righteousness, those good works and the true love of God and our neighbors are manifest in both our hearts and our lives.

The two masters we could choose to follow in this life are sin and Jesus, and they lead to very different ends: death or life! We’re reminded that “The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Two different masters and two different results.

It’s road construction season out there. And that seems like a permanent thing. It can be frustrating and irritating, but eventually it will lead to something better than we have now. In the same way, it’s road construction season in here (heart) and in here (head). There are deep, deep ruts of sin that need to be filled in. That need to be paved over so that they don’t keep reforming. And the only way for that to happen is to allow God to work in your life. To do the necessary construction. It will be frustrating. It will be irritating. It will be hard. But those old ways can be smoothed over. It’s a process we call sanctification. Making us holy. And it is never ending. Think of it like an endless line of orange road cones for your soul. Always under construction. At least, that is, until that day when the Lord calls us home to Himself.

There’s always that great relief when you get to the end of the construction site and you see that one sign: End Road Work. And we all know what that means. No more obstructions. No more hassles. There will come a day, when on this road of life, you will come to that same sign. God’s work in you will be complete and the sorrow and pain of this world will come to an end. And the construction that God has been doing on you will result in a road that is rut free. No more sin to entangle you. No more pain to overwhelm you. And no more sorrow over sin and death. Because on that day you will fully understand what it means that Christ has conquered sin and the grave and that He shares that very same victory with you.

Paul shows us that Christ has freed us from that awful rut of sin and put us back on the path of righteousness. Where sin was once our master, Christ has now claimed us as his own. And while that doesn’t mean that we’re not going to continue to get stuck in the ruts we carve out in this life, it does mean that Christ is there to pull us out as He walks with us, strengthening us for a life of righteousness, for His sake. Amen.

The peace of God which surpasses all understanding guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.