Though we would never wish for a scandal to take place and make its way into the headlines, and while we should always regret the circumstances that bring one about, a scandal does offer the opportunity for personal introspection. A wise man will heed its lessons, for it inevitably provides the context to consider whether sin is sneaking up on us as it has on someone else, to practice the biblical admonition “let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall” (1 Corinthians 10:12).

In recent months the news around these parts has carried stories of a number of highly-publicized scandals, some of which involve professed Christians and some of which do not. And while none overlap my life or social circles in any significant way, I’ve still found myself pondering the public facts to consider what lessons I can draw from them.
The lesson that is most prominent in my mind is that you’re never too old to destroy your legacy—which is to say that you’re never beyond the temptation to sin. Some of these people had enjoyed many years of service in the public eye and had earned an upright reputation. And then, in the blink of an eye, they had to resign in disgrace. Some tried to express the hope that, because they had done so much good for so long a time, their legacy would not be entirely undermined. Yet, while they may have done much good, they will never outrun the context in which their careers came to so sudden a halt. The lesson is that we can never coast, we can never relax our vigilance against sin until we have safely landed in heaven.
Just behind that lesson is this: sin will often bring the most pain and harm to those we love the most (or are meant to love the most). It is almost unbearable to consider the cost to a wife in shame as news of her husband’s affair crisscrosses the world (and, of course, to a woman’s husband if the wife is the one who has transgressed). Every story will tell of a marriage that must now be in peril because of one spouse’s thoughtlessness, one person’s transgressions. That husband may have enjoyed his sin while it was taking place but his wife and family will know only pain, shame, and confusion. That pastor may have gained some enjoyment while committing his sinful deeds, but how he has resigned and his church is left rocked and hurting. So often the cost of our sin is disproportionately paid by the very people we are charged to love, protect, and care for.
Here’s another lesson: Some people stick around too long. They grow so accustomed to being in the public eye that they cannot tolerate the thought of obscurity, of being a former politician, a former athlete, or even a former pastor. Yet there comes a time when remaining in the public eye (or the pulpit or the conference circuit or …) may reflect idolatry more than necessity or service. That public prominence may have become a matter of identity so that the individual doesn’t know who he would be without the position and the acclaim that comes with it. And there is grave danger that comes to those who are in the public eye to work out their own identity rather than to serve others. Sometimes what’s best for a person, his family, and the people he has served is to step aside—to quit while he is ahead. (The people who most need to quit are probably the very ones who find the thought most unbearable!)
And then this: We are particularly vulnerable to temptation in the area in which we build our “brand.” One of the individuals caught up in a recent scandal branded himself as the consummate family man who loved and valued his wife and family. Yet he now leaves the public eye just hoping he will be able to regain their trust and confidence and salvage something of a relationship with them. Another was an advocate for justice who was found to have committed acts of great injustice. The area in which both of these people wished to present themselves as particularly strong was the very area in which they were particularly vulnerable (or even eager, perhaps) to temptation. And this makes me think of how many Christian “experts” in areas like marriage and family have eventually been unmasked as hypocrites in much the same way and how many advocates of the vulnerable have actually trodden so many underfoot. We easily deceive others and ourselves.
I also see how Satan may send counsellors to try to persuade those who have sinned that they should not allow that sin to drive them from the public eye—that they are so good at what they do or so crucial to their church or organization that they should fight to maintain their position. Sometimes a disgraced individual will initially follow conscience and attempt to do the right thing, only to heed poor counsel and withdraw an earlier resignation. Just when a person seems willing to make much of his sin, he may be encouraged to make little of it. Bad sin so often seems to be followed by bad counsel.
It is also worth reflecting on the fact that a man can be easily flattered. In a number of situations the person was caught up in a sexual scandal with someone quite a bit younger—sometimes in a context that was abusive and sometimes in a context that was consensual. I believe many older men would be able to testify that there can be something very validating about the attention of a younger woman, something very affirming about thinking he’s still got what it takes to attract and woo someone who is much his junior. Aging can certainly be humbling and discouraging, so a man who is wise will consider how he can face and endure it with grace—and not seek out or succumb to flattery.
The final lesson is that your sin will find you out. An old Puritan warned that Satan likes to dangle the bait while hiding the hook. Satan’s greatest trick is to let us think we can enjoy the pleasures of sin without paying its cost. And while we so often get away with it for a while, eventually the hook grabs hold and our sin gets exposed. And while we see this happen time and time again, we seldom seem to learn the lesson. When confronted by the opportunity to sin, we need to consider the cost to ourselves, our family, our church, our testimony, and our Savior. We need to assume that Satan does not just wish for us to sin, but to eventually make that sin every bit as public as was the case for those people we see in the headlines.
I will close out with J.I. Packer’s challenging, sobering words, penned when he was already old and already grappling with the challenges of aging: “Racers always try to keep something in reserve for a final sprint … My contention is that so far as our bodily health allows, we should aim to be found running the last lap of our Christian life, as we would say, flat out. The final sprint, so I urge, should be a sprint indeed.” Those who are in that final stretch must make it a sprint indeed—a sprint in which their godly character carries them safely and victoriously over the finish line. Meanwhile, those of us who are still approaching that final stretch must already be laying “aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely” so we can “run with endurance the race that is set before us”—and run to the very end without stumbling, without falling, without bringing disgrace to our name or reproach to the name of Christ.

We’ve all heard that marriage was designed to make us holy more than to make us happy. And though it’s a bit of a trite phrase that threatens to force a false dichotomy between holiness and happiness, there is a measure of truth to it. At its best, marriage does, indeed, help us grow in holiness. It helps us in our lifelong quest to put sin to death and come alive to righteousness. Aileen and I knew this was true when we got married all those years ago, but as time has passed we’ve been surprised to learn how it’s true.

It had been our assumption that marriage would make us holy because we would essentially be enlisting another person to our cause—a person who would assist us in identifying sin and in helping us put it to death. “This is the will of God: your sanctification,” says Paul, and each of us would be involving ourselves in embracing God’s will for the other.
Certainly there have been times when each of us has helpfully and even formally pointed out where the other has developed patterns of sin and selfishness. There have been times when we have each helped the other fight a particular sin or a general sinfulness. Yet as we look back on the past twenty-three years, we see that this has been relatively rare. It’s not that we don’t see plenty of sin in one another and not that we are firmly opposed to pointing it out. No, it’s more that there is another way that marriage has helped us grow in sanctification—a way in which our efforts are directed at addressing ourselves more than fixing each other.
Each of us has our sins, our imperfections, and our shortcomings. Each of us is pretty well established in who we are and how we behave and each of us is, at 45, pretty unlikely to experience dramatic transformations in this. That’s not to say that we have given up or declared ourselves as holy as we can ever be. Far from it! But at this point we are assuming that the sins that dog us today will probably continue to dog us to the end—though hopefully with diminishing strength. And this means that the sin we have each had to tolerate in the other is sin we will likely need to tolerate for however many more years the Lord gives us. So while Aileen may grow in holiness by having me confront her in her sins, she seems to grow more in holiness by patiently tolerating my sinfulness—by loving me despite my sin and loving me as the Lord helps me progressively put that sin to death.
Then, while each of us has our sins, each of us also has our quirks, our preferences, our idiosyncrasies, our annoyances. And just like we assume that the sins that have dogged each of us through the first twenty-three will dog us for the next twenty-three, we assume that the things that just plain annoy us about one another today are likely to persist as well. And let’s be honest—it is often harder to tolerate a bad habit than a bad sin. It is often harder to tolerate the way your spouse chews his food or leaves her clothes on the ground than the way he sins against you or the way she remains unsanctified. And again, while Aileen might grow in her sanctification by having me formally point out a way in which she is sinful, she seems to grow more in sanctification by learning to accept and perhaps even embrace some of those non-moral but oh-so-annoying things I do—those eccentricities and matters of preference.
So perhaps the foremost way that marriage has helped make us holy is not so much in calling each of us to serve as the other’s second conscience, a junior assistant to the Holy Spirit in bringing conviction of sin. It is not in calling each of us to be a kind of moral sandpaper to actively scour off each other’s rough edges. Rather, marriage has helped make us holy by calling each of us to extend a kind of divine mercy toward the other—to simply live lovingly with someone who is prone to be sinful and irritating.
In marriage, God allows us to see one another as we really are, then to accept one another as we really are—as holistic human beings who are a mixture of holy and depraved, grownup and immature, wonderful and almost unbelievably annoying. Marriage makes us holy not just in compelling us to identify and confront sin in the other, but also in calling us to bear patiently with another person’s sin, preferences, and bad habits. In other words, marriage makes us holy in the way it calls us to be like God in overlooking offenses, in imparting mercy, in extending forgiveness, in displaying compassion, in refusing to be petty. Thus, the great sanctifying challenge of marriage is not so much to fix one another, as to imitate Christ.

Good morning. May the Lord bless and keep you today.

There are a few new Kindle deals to look at, and possibly a few more in the morning.
Logos users will want to check out this month’s free and nearly-free books. They might also be interested in this new series edited by D.A. Carson.
(Yesterday on the blog: Moments With My Father (and My Son))
What Does It Mean for the Saints to Judge Angels?
“What makes the passage so surprising is Paul seems to assume his readers are already aware of their role in the final judgment. He twice asks the rhetorical question, ‘Do you not know?’ And yet, if it weren’t for this very passage, how many Christians today would know? What exactly does it mean that we will judge the world and the angels? What else does the Bible have to say about this? And what does this mean for us practically today?”
7 Characteristics of Good Bible Teachers
Doug Eaton: “Teaching scripture is a spiritual gift, but it is also a skill. This means that not everyone is called to be a teacher; it also means just because someone is gifted does not mean they do not need to improve their skills. Several things come into play that impacts the quality of teaching.”
Kinda Like God Who Sees All We Do 
Sylvia Schroeder draws a similarity between an aspect of life and the God who sees all we do.
Preaching Variants
“In the realm of the theological sciences, no subject is as difficult to navigate as that of Old and New Testament textual criticism.” That being the case, Nick Batzig offers some counsel on understanding and preaching them well.
Being The Bad Guy
“At our house, I’ve always been the bad guy,” says Seth Lewis.
Giving in Retirement
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a discussion of this topic before. “In this article, I’ll pose some questions you can answer for yourself to help you make important decisions about giving based on your situation and convictions.”
Flashback: When Unanimity is the Enemy of Unity
I have often wondered if we demand unanimity where unity would be not only sufficient but also superior. I have often wondered if unanimity is the enemy of Christian unity. Allow me to explain.

If thou wouldst thus leave thy heart with God on the Saturday night, thou shouldst find it with Him in the Lord’s Day morning. —George Swinnock