no one sees

I used to travel with a man who loved the night life. He did things on the road that he would never do at home, and, when asked about it, would say, “Who’s going to know?”

I thought of him this morning when I was reading in Isaiah 47. God is speaking to people he calls “lovers of pleasure,” a group he describes as “lounging in your security,” and to them he says this, in verses 9 and 10:

“‘You have trusted in your wickedness
and have said, “No one sees me.”
Your wisdom and knowledge mislead you
when you say to yourself,
“I am, and there is none besides me.”
Disaster will come upon you,
and you will not know how to conjure it away.”

No one sees me. I’m not hurting anyone. Who’s going to know? These are the things we say to ourselves to rationalize our sins. But when I’m tempted to think like that, I have to remember a couple of things.

First, God will know, and God is the one who told me not to do that. Do I really fear the consequences of other people knowing of my sin more than God? Or do I trust so much in God’s grace that I don’t fear him anymore? That’s cheap grace, something I hope I’m never guilty of.

The second thing, though, is that there’s a reason God told me not to do that, and the reason is this: that thing is bad for me. That thing will make it harder to live right, it will steal my joy, it will compromise my witness, and it will damage my relationship with God. All of the things that that I was made for will be diminished, first among them my happiness.

“Lovers of pleasure, lounging in your security” is a good description of many Americans, and of many Christians. I need to be sure that my earthly knowledge and wisdom don’t deceive me.

Who’s going to know? I will, and God will, and it will make both of us unhappy. Beyond that, it shouldn’t really matter if anyone sees.