Exodus 20:15
I was eight years old and I had gone with my mother to the grocery store. We used to shop at the Community Cash, which was a local chain in Spartanburg, SC. We had gotten everything on the list and we were standing in line at the checkout. And, of course, right there at eye level for an eight-year-old was a display of all sorts of candy. I had my eye on a Hershey bar. Then, as now, I was a chocoholic. I asked my mom if I could have it, but she said no. Then it was our turn to check out, and she got busy loading our groceries onto the conveyer belt. She wasn’t paying any attention to me at all, and, quick as a wink, just like that, I put a Hershey bar in my pocket.
When we got out to the car, I climbed all the way into the way back of our station wagon, which was roughly the same size as my first apartment. They built them big back then! And as my mother pulled out of the parking lot, I began to unwrap my candy bar. I thought I was being quiet about it, but my mother hollered back at me, “What are you doing back there?” “Nothing!” I answered. And I kept right on with what I was doing. I had just taken my first bite of that delicious chocolate bar when my mother pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home, got out of the car, and came around to see what I was doing. She saw me with the candy bar in my mouth. “Where did you get that?” she asked. Well, duh, she knew exactly where I got it; she just wanted me to admit that I had stolen it. “Did you take that from the grocery store?” she finally asked. “Yeah,” I answered. “What?” she said. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied.
Well, she turned the car around, drove back to the Community Cash, and told me that I was to go in and find Mr. Jones (the store manager) and tell him what I had done. I was to give him the candy bar and the quarter to pay for it and come right back out. I knew Mr. Jones. He went to our church. He was about 6 foot 3 inches tall, and very large. And he almost always was in the customer service booth at the front of the store. I took the candy bar and I took the quarter and I walked into the store. I was scared to death. When I asked for Mr. Jones, he came out of the booth and asked what he could do for me. I handed him the candy bar and the quarter, told him that I had taken the candy without paying for it, and said I was sorry. He replied that he appreciated me bringing him the money, and to tell my daddy he said “hey.”
I don’t really remember whether there was any other punishment forthcoming or not. Because that by itself was enough to make a huge impression on an eight-year-old girl. Standing there looking up at tall Mr. Jones, it was almost like standing in front of God and admitting that I had stolen the candy bar. And it made me feel especially guilty, to remember that I had been taking something from someone that I knew, who was a member of our church. It definitely discouraged me from ever stealing again.
And yet, I probably have stolen other things, perhaps without even realizing it. We break the eighth commandment in a whole host of ways, big and small. While most of us aren’t the kind of thieves who end up in jail, we all have a little guilt to bear. What about that old adage, “finders keepers, losers weepers?” asks Adam Hamilton, in his book, Words of Life. But if you abide by that rule, it means it’s okay to keep something that isn’t yours. And keeping what you find is really stealing, whether it’s a twenty-dollar bill on the sidewalk, or a wallet, or too much money in the envelope from the bank where you just cashed a check.
Hamilton mentions a variety of other ways that we might be guilty of stealing. For example, when we eat out and get our check and find that the waiter omitted an entrée or beverage. Do we say anything, or just count our good fortune? Well, a restaurant operates on a profit margin of just 2-6%, and we might just be costing them any profit on our meal. Or what about sneaking into a second movie after we finish watching the one we paid for? Or borrowing something and never returning it? Or taking credit for someone else’s work? Or selling a car to someone without telling about it’s problems. Or being late for a meeting or appointment? After all, that is stealing someone’s time. The list goes on and on. John Killinger adds the store manager who overcharges his customers, the sales rep who pads her expense account, the student who copies someone else’s homework, the woman who shoplifts at the grocery store. And perhaps the most common of all, what about cheating on your income tax, by overstating the value of your charitable contributions or by being paid for something in cash and choosing to not report it as income? It is estimated that tax evasion and fraud cost the U.S. government about $450 billion a year in lost revenue.
In the eighth commandment, You shall not steal, the Hebrew word for steal is simple. But our modern methods of stealing require more than one word: petty larceny, grand larceny, fraud, embezzlement. The list goes on and on. There is the trader who can steal from thousands of people at once by manipulating the market in a particular stock. And a public official who discovers she can take advantage of her position for personal gain. And the con artist who convinces an elderly widow to purchase a new furnace when her old one is in perfectly good shape.
Stealing is a big deal. It is, after all, one of God’s top ten. And one of the reasons it is such a big deal is that when someone steals, we all pay for it. If the government is not receiving $450 billion it is owed in taxes, somehow those of us who are paying will end up paying more. When someone shoplifts, it results in the prices of merchandise going up. It is estimated that prices are raised 2-5% to cover the cost of shoplifting and employee theft. When someone collects insurance money on a phony claim, that means that the rates will go up for all customers.
And then there is the personal price we pay for stealing. First, we pay internally. J. Ellsworth Kalas writes in his book, The Ten Commandments from the Back Side, “When we steal, we pay with a piece of our character, and that can never be replaced. We also give up some measure of our self-respect. Perhaps we won’t be apprehended for the theft, so the community will never know. But we will know, and we will think less of ourselves because of what we know.”
Second, we pay a price because it changes our relationship with God. When we break the commandment, when we sin, we put up a barrier between ourselves and God. My 8th-grade Sunday School teacher said that you spell sin “SFG,” or “separation from God.” And that separation is not so easily repaired. It means that we have to admit our guilt to God, and ask for forgiveness, and commit ourselves to not doing that again. In his mercy, God will grant us grace and forgiveness. But I know that it is hard for a person to really feel right with God for a while after something has gotten in the way of their relationship.
Third, we pay a price in our relationship with others. We become guarded around other people, because we are afraid that they will find out what we have done. That puts up a barrier between us and them. And not only that, we may also become suspicious of other people; we assume that if we are stealing, then they are too. This barrier is one that only the one who committed the sin can remove. When things are made right, then that sense of needing to hide from others will go away, and we become less suspicious of the people around us.
Sometimes committing the sin of stealing requires making restitution before our relationships with other people can be made right. I am reminded of the story of Zaccheus in Luke 19. Zaccheus was a tax collector who had been overcharging people on their taxes and making quite a profit for himself. But when he met Jesus, his life was changed. He gave away half of his possessions to the poor on the spot. And he pledged that, if he had cheated anyone, he would pay them back four times what he had stolen.
Stealing is serious business. But dealing with a thief was the last business that Jesus took care of during his earthly ministry. You might remember that when he was crucified, it was between two thieves. Adam Hamilton reminds us that one of the thieves mocked Jesus as he hung there, but the other rebuked him. Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into my kingdom.” And Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
Even if you are guilty taking what isn’t yours, of stealing and breaking the eighth commandment, even if you are a professional thief, a real criminal, Jesus will forgive you for that sin. And all that is required is what was required of that thief on the cross: to admit your sin and to turn to Jesus for forgiveness. And every time, every time, Jesus will forgive.
