The other day I stopped by an ice cream stand and walked away without even tasting so much as a free sample. There were so many flavors to choose from I was simply overwhelmed. Who needs cactus ice cream or olive oil gelato? Whatever happened to simple categories like chocolate, strawberry and vanilla?

I confess I long for the days when I could simplify this incredibly complex world in which I live. I used to believe there were good guys and there were bad guys. By some strange coincidence, I was always on the side of the good guys. By a miraculous trick of vision, I failed to see all the various hues of color that shaded everything around. Everything was black or white.

Part of this tunnel vision was due to my inexperience with the world. I just hadn’t lived enough. I believed my parents, I believed my teachers, I believed the politicians, and I believed the church leaders. But mainly I believed the Bible. I was an innocent young idealistic man who believed the Bible and took it at its every word. Literally. I knew the Bible was the Word of God, infallible in its teaching, inerrant in every word of the original manuscripts.

I still believe the Bible. I still believe it is the Word of God, infallible in its teaching, inerrant in every word of the original manuscript. In the words of the old Presbyterian catechism on which I was raised it is “the sole rule of faith and practice.”

It is just that I have discovered a problem. I have learned that I am neither inerrant nor infallible. I come to the Bible, and I often get it wrong. I read something, and let my normal way of thinking color what it says. I read something from the perspective of a middle class, evangelical semi-educated, male American and all my inculturated biases, prejudices, and quirky slants come into play. I read it and get what I want, instead of what God wants to say to me. I get cactus ice cream when God is trying to give me pure and yummy vanilla.

Not only do I make mistakes in properly understanding God’s truth, worse yet I make mistakes in practicing my faith. My mistakes -- some honest, some deliberately chosen, some as natural as sin -- keep me from receiving what God desires in my life. My sins keep me from being a better person, and the world around me a better place.

I have learned the truth of that old hymn “Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus”: “the arm of flesh will fail you, ye dare not trust your own.” My own have failed me. My parents weren’t perfect. My teachers failed. Politicians lied for their own gain. Church leaders befriended, betrayed, and sometimes battered me. But most of all, the “arm of flesh” I’ve had to contend with most often is my own. I guess that qualifies me for the biblical category (remember chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla?) of sinner.

Some things in the Bible are quite black and white, and so simple even I understand. There is a category of people called “sinners” and it is actually so huge it includes us all. Thank God we can also be in another category, also quite huge, called “sinners saved by God’s grace.” Trouble is, even saved, our lives are sometimes more like olive oil gelato than something really tasty.