In Debt

I hate debt.

It makes me sick to my stomach.  In 2008, when my wife Mandy and I were planning to buy a home, the thought of being strapped to a monthly mortgage payment for the next thirty years nearly paralyzed me.  By the grace of God, I’d avoided car loans and school loans to that point, but there I was, planning to dive into six-figure debt for the sake of a home.

Even though I believe that we made the right choice in buying the house we did when we did, the debt was and is painful to carry.  Each month, a large portion of our paycheck goes straight into the home, through mortgage, taxes, insurance, utilities, repairs, and upgrades.

Because I hate debt, I made a commitment to get out as quickly as I could.  So we dumped money in to the mortgage by the hundreds and thousands.  If we earned extra cash, if we got a tax rebate, if we received financial gifts, the money went to the mortgage.  The goal was to get out of debt.  Fast.

In fact, I confess that I’ve prayed many times for God to help us pay off our debt within ten years.  I’m not sure if he will help us accomplish that goal, but I’m not shy about telling him that we’d love to live without a mortgage.  I can hardly imagine living mortgage-free, since all I’ve ever known of housing is either paying rent or paying mortgage.  I don’t know many stories of people living without mortgages or rent, but I’d love to be one of those people who are truly free of debt.

But isn’t it ironic how stressed out I get about financial debt, when I’ve created a debt far more significant?  With my mortgage, I owe a bank a few years’ worth of my salary.  And knowing that aggravates me to no end.

But I have a debt far greater than a few years’ salary.  I have a debt against my life.  Instead of borrowing from a bank, I borrowed from God when I sinned against him.  In his perfect righteousness, he demands perfect obedience.  And I failed, and have fallen into debt.

The problem with this spiritual debt is that I can never pay it back.  Even if I were to live the rest of my life performing good deeds—giving all I have to the poor, sharing the gospel with everyone I know, and adopting hundreds of orphaned children—I would still fall short.

The truth is that “the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23).  Period.  This debt will not help you start a small business, or get an education, or buy a place to live—it only brings death.  It is serious.  Yet we’ve all sinned (Romans 3:23; 1 John 1:8).  We all carry this debt.  Your neighbor, your mother, your friend, your pastor—all are in debt.

When viewed in this light, the situation is bleak.  The financial crisis that has swept across our country and world over the last few years almost looks bright and cheery compared to the grim picture of our spiritual debt.

This would be a time to despair, except for one thing: there is a way out.

There is one way to be free of this debt.  Not two ways.  Not three.  One.  It is not a payment plan or government buyout.  It does not have any fine print.  It does not require a lawyer or even a pastor to understand.

In fact, for such a serious debt, this one way out is surprisingly simple.  It is a type of debt forgiveness plan.  And rather than pages of legalese, it can really be summed up in just two words: Jesus Christ.

In the same breath that we say “the wages of sin is death,” we can add, “but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23).

Debt forgiveness.  It’s a free gift.  You just have to know the Way (John 14:6).

If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.  1 John 1:8-9