Zombie Sins
The lights dimmed. The movie began. A man waking in a hospital bed repeatedly pressing a buzzer that is never responded to. He gathers his strength to stand, slowly exploring the empty halls, calling repeatedly to his echo. He’s alone.
The lonely man wanders the quiet streets. He seems small in empty world. Wind blown waste shudders down the side path, newspaper headings about a virus, the date read 28 days earlier.
That’s when the zombies attacked.
It was also the exact moment I left the cinema. Like a fool, I walked in to watch a movie I knew nothing about while attempting to kill time on an interstate layover. I don’t watch Zombie flicks. I’d like to say I have some grand theological reason why that’s the case, the truth though is simpler—I don’t like scary movies. It baffles me why zombie movies are so popular, why the idea of the living dead still attracts a crowd—but it does. ‘Fright’ is cheap entertainment.
I don’t need to entertain fictional zombies, I have enough of my own to contend with. I’ve been a stumbling follower of Jesus since my mid-teens. I’ve had my moments of victory, mountain-top experiences of joy that modern worship songs love to extol. But sin has plagued me. Of course, the sins of youthful lusts and pride were present, and my twenties were a decade of struggle. My thirties saw the struggle change, but still present. I thought I’d left much behind, but in my mid forties, a new army has arisen—a zombie squad intent on tearing apart what God has built.
“So then, brothers and sisters, we are not obligated to the flesh to live according to the flesh, because if you live according to the flesh, you are going to die. But if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” (Romans 8:12–13, CSB)
Here’s what I am learning. Paul asks me to slay sin, a theme that John Owen would later riff off as he famously quipped, “Be killing sin or sin will be killing you,” and I thought I was. But I was wrong.
Burying sin is not the same as killing it.
I’d take a stab at killing my sin, I’d strike at it with my willpower and see it step away into the shadows again. My foolish mistake was assuming I’d dealt it a mortal blow, some fatal slash, and so I would consider it dead and buried. I’d rise on the mountain-top victoriously. But now the horde grows close again. Buried sins. The ugly undead.
A burial without death only produces a zombie sin, an old enemy we thought was gone but instead had been gathering strength underground and now ready to launch a surprise attack. A zombie sin stalks with frightening persistence, well-versed in our weaknesses and well-educated at the limitations of our self-control.
Yet, is this truly the case? Isn’t it more accurate to say that, not like the classic zombie flick, but more like the plethora of dystopian genre options out there, we’ve known the undead were living in the sewers all along? Haven’t we been content to simply ignore the uncomfortable reality of our past while pretending that all is well on the surface? But eventually the revolution will come. The undead will rise. Our sins will find us out.
It’s true, burying sin is not the same as killing it, so rather than force our shame back underground, how should we battle this old enemy?
Bring them into the light of a fellowship
Zombie sins thrive in darkness, like the Orcs of Mordor they gather in the gloom beyond the Black Gates. To fight them in the dark watches of the night, alone against the throng, our hopes fade. But we look to the East. We watch for the rising sun. We stand against them under the blazing glory of our Redeemer’s righteousness, and we do not fight alone.
Our zombie sins are best slain by a fellowship, not a ranger who walks alone. Bring your sins to the table of your friendships, admitting your weakness, asking for help, and willing to walk the distances required to see the journey through.
Bring them into the light of honesty
Accountability to a fellowship is good, but without honesty, is insufficient. More often than not I have coddled my sin rather than killed it. I’ve fed the beast, thinking that I might keep it at bay, all the while it has been plotting its attack. We cannot co-exist with sin, making excuses for it, placating it with promises of tomorrow. Our idols are ruthless task-masters; we have made them too heavy to bear up, their weight will crush us. We must grind them to powder and throw them to the wind, or we might find that God has ground them for us, though the taste will be bitter on our tongue.
Admit your sin, even as I must admit mine. We cannot fight them if we refuse to acknowledge their existence.
Bring them into the light of the Saviour
As a young christian, it was my willpower that I held up as my redeemer. What a dismal failure that turned out to be! Paul didn’t say, “But if by your willpower you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live,” it is by the Spirt these zombie sins are slain. A fellowship is helpful. Our honesty is important. But unless the gospel is at work in us, unless the righteousness of Christ is our only hope, all our efforts will simply drive the enemy underground.
I am learning to rest in the finished work of Christ all over again. The sufficiency of grace is my eternal song. My living hope is that Christ’s victory has become mine.
“And when you were dead in trespasses and in the uncircumcision of your flesh, he made you alive with him and forgave us all our trespasses. He erased the certificate of debt, with its obligations, that was against us and opposed to us, and has taken it away by nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and disgraced them publicly; he triumphed over them in him.” (Colossians 2:13–15, CSB)
In Christ, this zombie army has been disgraced. I win as I abide in Jesus my redeemer. As I kneel at the cross, as I worship beside the empty tomb, as I yearn for his words of eternal life, I see my King ride out in victory.
For a season the battle rages; sin will continue to trail my every step. The battle continues, but the victory is assured.
“What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! !” (Romans 7:24–25, CSB)
