I wasn’t familiar with this exact phrase when I grew up, but we were definitely expected to overcome sin. In our upper middle class church I only remember one person ever confessing their sin: a teenage girl who got pregnant and was made to repent in front of the whole church. Other than that, I had the impression we were all perfect. When anyone wasn’t, I thought it was because they were new, and didn’t have to meet the same expectations of those of us who’d been Christians for a while.

When Heather and I were first married, we were part of an entirely different church. The questions I was used to asking didn’t work there. “So what do you do?” “I’m a prostitute”. Or another conversation: “Where do you live?” “A halfway house”. People confessed their sin freely, and often publicly. Forgiveness flowed freely. One woman confessed from the front her fifth pregnancy out of wedlock, with her fifth different father. The mercy was wonderful, but where do you draw the line?

Out of that church we helped start a new church with a vision to multiply disciples who not just received God’s love, but who’s lives were transformed by him. We joined a movement of churches started by charismatic Americans who were full of faith in God’s ability to transform not just our lives, but whole cities. They imparted courage to us, taught us how to pray boldly (and loudly) and gave us vision and hope. But again, when they keep calling you “champ” and telling you how great you are, are you allowed to confess your sin? Or do you just try to live up to what you’re called to be?

Several years ago we moved to a new city for me to take a job in leadership at a mission agency. In the beginning, I was transparent about my sin. I would confide in my boss and other leaders, but also publicly confess my struggles in front of large groups at equipping events. Very free. But over time, you get more and more people trusting you and counting on you, and like a religious leader you find yourself spending your time helping others through their sin instead of openly sharing your own. There’s a pressure to be perfect.

When I read the Old Testament, it seems like all our heroes of the faith failed (like Abraham). I can see that those stories are not about the leaders’ exploits, but about God’s faithfulness to his people through all the ups and downs. Maybe we just need to realize that we’re human, and it’s not going to be pretty. Even the best people we can read about in the Bible were not perfect. But where’s the victory in that?

In the New Testament, something changed. We don’t read about the apostles sinning in the same ways their Old Testament counterparts did. No talk of murder or adultery after the were saved. Did the story of Acts just get cut short before they messed it up? Were they masters at covering up their sin? Or did the presence of the Holy Spirit in their lives actually set them free from sin? From their writing and church history it seems like they may have actually experienced victory in Jesus.

Striving to be perfect is a horrible road to go down. Sin goes underground. Shame. This continual sense of impending doom. And no courage. Like it says in proverbs: the righteous are bold as a lion, but the wicked flee though no one pursues them. This is what Jesus kept trying to save the Pharisees from: don’t try to be righteous, be righteous. How does that work?

A few months ago I was struggling with sin, and the Holy Spirit said to me “receive the victory”. Not what I expected. I was thinking: feel remorse, repent and regain freedom and fellowship with God. Victory. An interesting perspective. It made me want to glorify Jesus by believing and receiving what he did, rather than try harder at what I do.

But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. – 1 Co 15:57

Everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith. – 1 John 5:4

To the one who is victorious, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God. – Rev 2:7

Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children. – Rev 21:7