One of the masterpieces of fiction is the satirical story of Don Quixote, by Miguel de Cervantes. It tells how the absurdly idealistic hero, followed by his squire Sancho Panza, sets out to find adventure, do deeds of chivalrous bravery and win the admiration of everybody. He had such an open mind in this quest that he decided to go wherever his horse Rosinante would lead him. But the horse, finding itself given free rein, naturally returned to the place it knew best, its own stable. Too often perhaps, we humans find ourselves going the same way, doing the same thing, returning to the same sinful habits again and again, sometimes also drifting aimlessly, sometimes lured on by the novelty of sensationalism, sometimes a prey to the enticements of others, or carried away by the latest fashion in religion.

St Paul, in today’s text, is quite adamant in his condemnation of that kind of haphazard behavior. “I want to urge you in the name of the Lord,” he says, “not to go on living the aimless kind of life that pagans live.” The inner life of pagans was one in which human weakness led to countless moral failures, and the pursuit of a career of indecency of every kind, often culminating in permanent spiritual collapse. However, “if we live by the truth and in love, we shall grow in all ways into Christ, who is the head by whom the whole body is fitted and joined together, until it has built itself up, in love” (4:15f). In other words, Christ must be seen before the whole world to be a living influence in the lives of all his true followers. 

On the other hand, if people engage only in immoral things, their mind will be darkened, and worse, their hearts will be petrified, they become like stone. This lapsing into sin may be more discernible to others than to the person himself or herself. There is a certain mystery attached to sin, but we can say for certain that nobody becomes a sinner all at once.