Why Do I Keep Sinning?

Romans 7:15 and 19 say, “I do not understand what I do. . . . For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.”

These words, written by the apostle Paul almost two thousand years ago, may be the most relatable in all of Scripture. Who hasn’t muttered some form of them as they fall, for the thousandth time, to that old besetting sin? Or think them as they, yet again, leave a good deed undone, that expression of love unsaid? A lack of knowledge isn’t always the culprit either. Like Paul, we often “know the good we ought to do.” The problem is that we don’t do it.

I know I don’t. I have some deficiencies in this area. Well, “deficiencies” is a convenient euphemism, but it sounds more respectable than faceplant failures. I’m flabbergasted each time I give free rein to a destructive impulse or fail to do what’s right.

The biggest obstacle to improving in this area isn’t usually a lack of resources or understanding. Rather, it’s the tenacious enemy I encounter in the mirror every morning. In the famous words of the cartoonist Walt Kelly, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.” Part of me wants to do the right thing. Yet another part really doesn’t want to.

The frustrating thing is that my behavior often contradicts my most deeply held beliefs and values. It’s like I have a split personality. When I flip to Romans 7, I could be reading my journal. “I have the desire to do what is right,” Paul lamented, “but not the ability to carry it out” (ESV).

What’s going on? Paul identified the reason for his predicament, and for ours. He strove to please God, but there was a saboteur in the ranks—sin. “But if I am doing the very thing I do not want, I am no longer the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me. . . . on the one hand I myself with my mind am serving the law of God, but on the other, with my flesh the law of sin” (Rom. 7:20, 25 NASB). As a result, Paul was a house divided, a walking civil war. “What a wretched man I am!” Paul wrote, exasperated at his failures. “Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?” (7:24).

The Dark Side

So where did all this sin and dividedness come from? Answering that question requires taking a quick trip back to the first chapters of Genesis. Far before researchers were conducting self-control experiments in drab, windowless rooms, humanity’s willpower was put to the ultimate test in a lush garden. It started out promising. God created the first humans, Adam and Eve, in His image and appointed them stewards of His good creation. They enjoyed unbroken intimacy with their Creator and each other. They were given only one restriction: “you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die” (Gen. 2:17). Call it the first self-control test of all time. And if you went to Sunday school, you know what happened.

“Our capacity for selflessness and splendor comes from the fact that we were made in the image of God.”

They failed. Miserably. Eve bit the apple (or whatever the fruit was), Adam finished it off, and proceeded to blame his wife for the whole thing.

We’ve been biting and blaming ever since.

Whatever you think of the Genesis narrative, it’s hard to deny its explanatory power. It makes sense of an age-old paradox we encounter in human nature. How can we be so selfless and splendid one moment and so sinful and stupid the next? Genesis provides a rather elegant answer. Our capacity for selflessness and splendor comes from the fact that we were made in the image of God. Our sinfulness and stupidity? That traces back to the fall. Because of our ancient ancestors’ fateful decision, there’s a bentness to our nature. We have an inborn tendency to mess up, to choose sin and selfishness over holiness and intimacy with God and each other. It’s what makes the business of controlling our behavior so difficult. Even when we desire to do what’s right, we slam headlong into this internal barrier.

It’s important not to underplay this reality. We might be tempted to say we’re a tad mischievous, a bit naughty. But the reality Scripture describes is more sinister. The Bible states that our hearts are “deceitful” and “desperately wicked.” Jesus described the heart as the birthplace of “evil thoughts—murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander” (Matt. 15:19). It seems our hearts are crowded with destructive impulses straining for expression. And these destructive urges routinely win out. As theologian Marguerite Shuster writes, “the reservoir of evil in all of us is deeper than we know, and . . . barriers against its eruption are shockingly fragile.”

Favorite Sins and the Pursuit of Righteousness

A number of years ago, Barna research group conducted more than a thousand interviews with Americans of various ages and backgrounds. The purpose of the study: to discover our biggest temptations and how we deal with them. Procrastinating (60 percent), worrying (60 percent), eating too much (55 percent), and spending too much time on media (44 percent) topped the list of most common temptations. More serious habits like viewing pornography (18 percent), lying or cheating (12 percent), abusing drugs and alcohol (11 percent), or doing something sexually inappropriate with someone (9 percent), were less common. Though, as the researchers pointed out, the results were likely skewed by people’s reluctance to confess struggling with these more serious sins.

To me, the most disheartening finding of the study wasn’t which temptations we fall for; it was that we have no idea why we do. The study found that half of the respondents didn’t know why they succumbed to temptation. Others reported various reasons for their lapses, including a desire to feel less lonely or to satisfy people’s expectations. Only 1 percent cited the role of human or sinful nature.

The study reveals a disconnect in our thinking. We know that we have a problem with temptation. According to the American Psychological Association, Americans consistently name a lack of willpower as their number one character deficit. Like Paul, we know we don’t do the good we want to do. We realize we lack self-control, that we’re weak. As the Barna study demonstrates, we easily identify the areas in which we fall to temptation. What we have no clue about is why.

Most of us know we’re failing but have no idea what’s behind our failures. When it comes to fighting sin, we’re like a blind boxer—we keep getting hit, but don’t know where the blows are coming from.

A Sober Hope

Sinful, fallen, broken, crooked—whatever word you use, it’s essential to face the warped side of our nature. If you believe you’re essentially good, you’ll be completely unprepared to combat the sinful impulses lurking in your heart. “Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall” (1 Cor. 10:12 ESV). Accepting the biblical vision of human nature arms you with a sober self-awareness. It makes you wary of your impulses and desires. It helps you realize that you need wisdom and divine help to resist temptation and pursue righteousness.

We’re weak, sinful. Sometimes we can’t spot Satan’s lies, let alone resist them. The good news is that we can make progress. As we walk with Christ and grow in our relationship with Him, our desires align more with His and we become better at resisting sin. Those who trust in Christ have been given the Holy Spirit who is a helper in the war against sin.