Here is the creep of sin. Sin starts small – just a little compromise. But it never stays that way. We walk with it, then stand with it, then sit down right in the middle of it. And the most frightening part is that we never really intended to. It just sort of happened. Like an untethered boat in the middle of a lake, we slowly drift into a place we never intended to be.
I know how to ride a bicycle.
You probably do, too. But the fact that I know how to ride a bike does not make me a cyclist. Similarly, I might go for a jog a few times a week. But the fact that I have a good pair of shoes and can rip off a couple of miles without falling does not make me a “runner.”
In both of those worlds, you can go as deep down into the rabbit hole and subculture as you want to. You can, if you have the inclination and the energy, get down into all the smallest details of the frame size and weight of a bike. Or you can get into the specifics of the pace of your mile and the exact amount of arch support you need. You can get very specific into the type of clothing, the nutrition that improves your time, and the latest articles on how to cut wind resistance. You can go deeper and deeper and further and further as long as you have the time, energy, and money to do so.
But not me. Once again, I can ride a bike, but I am not a cyclist. You might say that I have a “casual” relationship with the bicycle. And there are all other kinds of things we might have this sort of working knowledge of without going to deep into. You might have a casual relationship with investing in the stock market. Or you might have a casual relationship with lawn care. Or woodworking. Or Civil War battles. Or whatever. Because we live in a world where information is very easy to come by, we have the luxury of having a working knowledge – a casual relationship – with a vast multitude of subjects.
But you cannot have a casual relationship with sin. When it comes to this particular area, you will always, always, always progress further.