If you do not do well, sin is lurking at the door; its desire is for you, but you must master it.
What dangers are lurking at my door, and how might I master that part of me?
Hmm. I read about Cain and Abel and normally think that is a time and a scenario very far away from me, very removed from my reality. The reflection that follows the Scriptural reading is from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a complicated but great theologian, killed by the Nazis for standing up against their sin. Bonhoeffer makes a connection between Cain and Abel and me, that I hadn’t previously acknowledged.
True, I’m not likely to kill my brother because I believe God likes him better. I’m not likely to kill anyone, for that matter. Bonhoeffer points out that Cain’s sin, the part of it that I can relate to, is that he thought he was so clever; he had decided that his will – what Cain wanted – superseded all else. It was from that place of superlative right-ness that Cain felt vindicated in killing Abel.
Bonhoeffer says we should be modest and humble. What does it matter if our own plans are thwarted, Bonhoeffer says. Hrmph. I don’t like my plans being thwarted. I made the plans for a reason, after all, and I make pretty good plans, after all. Bonhoeffer goes on to ask, “Is it not better to serve our neighbors than get our way?” Hrmph. Really? And I can hear him answer, “Really!”.
So there’s the rub for me. That’s where Cain and I are too alike. I like my plans. I like my way. I do sometimes find myself frustrated and angry at others who thwart my way, perhaps a little like Cain.
The Cain-like dangers lurking at my door are precisely the issues Bonhoeffer highlights. He writes that Christians will have modest opinions of their own plans and intentions. They will know that it good for their own will to be broken in their encounter with their neighbor. They will be willing to consider their neighbor’s will more important than their own.
I am good with helping others. I want to help the least, the last, the lost. Except when I don’t. Except when it interferes with my plans. When I’m working in my home office, trying to get things done, and my loved one is exceedingly loud inside and out, I get frustrated. My will certainly matters more than their illness. At times like that, I find that I do get dark and twisted thoughts, all designed to let my will be done. Just like Cain. (No, I don’t imagine killing anyone, but I do contrive to get my way, at the expense of what my neighbor needs).
This morning, I’m thinking about the insidious way sin creeps in, to make me think my will is more right than the needs of my neighbors. The good news is that I can physically feel when that happens, because I can start to feel anxious or unsettled. Whenever that happens today, I want to pause and see if there’s a way to not care if my own plans are thwarted, in the service of my neighbor.
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