“That is so convicting.” I say those words a lot.

My friends and I email each other quotes from convicting authors. We listen to convicting sermons at church, forward each other convicting sermons during the week, enjoy convicting conversations, and generally thrive on convicting resources. If I say something is “convicting”, I’m giving it some of the highest praise I know.

It all sounds so great, so holy. Because… honestly… how many people do you meet who are really, really eager to be confronted about their sin?

Exactly my point. But I’m not just anyone. I know that God really likes it when I feel convicted. I mean, why shouldn’t He? It’s a clear sign of my humility, teachable spirit, sensitivity to His voice, etc, etc.

Naturally, I enjoy it too. If I can say, “That’s so convicting” with sincerity, it gives me a feeling of relief— of satisfaction, even. It’s like the feeling I get when I have a lengthy to-do list and I put an “x” in one box. Sin recognized; sorrow felt; up goes the subconscious mental check in my mind. Now I’m a step further on my way to holiness, and if I manage to remember it throughout the week-- well, more power to me.

It’s a sham, though, when this “conviction” is all I've got. No amount of convicting feelings can replace the practice of true repentance.

We'd call a man crazy if he broke his leg, recognized the break, mulled remorsefully over the fact for a while, and then hobbled off with a sense of satisfaction. Such indifference is nothing short of idiotic— yet sin is eternally more significant than a broken leg. God isn’t interested in how many times my conscience gives me a two-minute sting, or how many times I can spot a sin in my heart and proceed to decry it. He doesn’t even care if I tell my friends I’ve been convicted.

The question He cares about is far more revealing: Am I fighting?

When sin enters the realm of my thoughts, do I detest it or tolerate it? Do I attack it with instantaneous vengeance, pulling my thoughts toward God-- or do I cordially entertain it for a few more minutes? If I really hate my disobedience, it means all-out, non-stop war—none of this couch-potato flippancy of feeling “sorry.” The violent language Paul uses in Romans 8:13, 2 Corinthians 10:5, and Colossians 3:5-7 is not dramatic hyperbole. Am I literally seeking to “kill” and “mortify” my flesh—to take “every thought captive” in obedience to Christ?

Or do I love God so little that I feel content in observing the defiance of my heart against Him, moaning about it, and then making a forgettable mental note to do better next time?

That’s not conviction. That’s self-deception. Real conviction leads to repentance, and repentance means slaying my flesh. We're not talking about broken limbs, but a spiritual disease we have the power through Christ to conquer.

Romans 6:17-22: “But thanks be to God that, though you used to be slaves to sin, you wholeheartedly obeyed the form of teaching to which you were entrusted. You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness. I put this in human terms because you are weak in your natural selves. Just as you used to offer the parts of your body in slavery to impurity and to ever-increasing wickedness, so now offer them in slavery to righteousness leading to holiness. When you were slaves to sin, you were free from the control of righteousness. But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves to God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life.”

When every unholy thought and word is an offense against the God who shattered my bonds of enslavement to sin with His own death— how can indifference ever be an option?