Pastor Lovedale turned several pages in his Bible before stopping.
After reading quietly for a few moments, he looked up and asked another question.
"Tell me, Martin. When does a person become a sinner?"
I thought for a moment.
"When he commits sin."
Again he smiled and gently shook his head.
"No."
His answer startled me.
For years, I had believed exactly that.
"A person does not become a sinner because he commits sin," he said. "He commits sin because he is already a sinner."
I stared at him.
The statement sounded strange, yet there was something about it that demanded attention.
He continued.
"An orange tree produces oranges because it is an orange tree. It does not become an orange tree because it produces oranges."
I nodded slowly.
The illustration made perfect sense.
"In the same way," he said, "a sinner sins because that is his nature."
Suddenly, memories from across my life came flooding back—my childhood fears, my promises to God, my repeated failures, and the years of striving and frustration.
Could it be that I had misunderstood the problem all along?
As though he could see the thoughts racing through my mind, he turned to another passage of Scripture and read:
"For we know that the law is spiritual: but I am carnal, sold under sin."
Then he closed his Bible.
"What does that sound like?"
I thought carefully.
Then the answer came.
"A slave."
"Exactly," he replied.
He leaned forward.
"Martin, a slave cannot simply decide to stop obeying his master. He may hate his condition. He may long to be free. But wishing for freedom does not break chains."
A chill ran through me.
The statement struck at the very heart of my struggle.
For all those years, I had been trying to free myself. I had been fighting sin through determination, discipline, and effort.
But what if the problem was bigger than I had imagined?
What if I was not merely struggling against sin?
What if I was its slave?
For the first time in my life, my failures began to make sense.
Perhaps the problem was not that I had failed to save myself.
Perhaps the problem was that I could never save myself.
Then another question arose in my mind.
"If that is true," I asked slowly, "then who can set a sinner free?"
Pastor Lovedale smiled.
It was the smile of a man who knows that good news is about to be shared.
"Now," he said, "you are asking the right question."
For the first time in more than thirty years, I felt that the answer I had been searching for all my life might finally be within reach.