Killing the Invisible Lion — And Learning Why We Fed It

Killing the Invisible Lion — And Learning Why We Fed It

I received a newsletter from Jon Tyson this morning titled Killing the Invisible Lion. It was a provocative and engaging post about the process of putting sin to death and learning to live free from the "sin that so easily entangles". Yet what it lacked was the other part of the journey we focus on here at 423. So I adapted it and rewrote his post. Let me know your thoughts.

Sin must be put to death. The heart must be understood.

Abba Poemen wrote, “If we take ourselves by the throat and by the belly, with the help of God, we shall overcome the invisible lion.”
Paul calls us to “make no provision for the flesh.”
Scripture is clear: sin will not be managed—it must be killed.

But the journey of healing isn’t only about violent resistance to sin.
It’s also about gentle curiosity toward the wounded heart that keeps returning to it.

At 423, we hold these two truths together.

1. Yes, sin must be confronted with seriousness.

We do no one any favors when we downplay behaviors that destroy dignity, harm intimacy, or bury lives in secrecy and shame. Sin is not a harmless habit. It’s a predator. It crouches. It devours. And as Paul puts it, it must be “put to death.”

This part of the work requires courage. Boundaries. Accountability. Naming what is killing us and refusing to negotiate with it.
If we only stay in compassion without this clarity, we enable our own destruction.

But that is only half the story.

2. Compassion asks: Why did your heart go there in the first place?

You cannot kill sin well if you do not understand the story behind it.

Too many men and women try to “white-knuckle holiness” without ever asking:

  • What ache is this behavior trying to soothe?

  • What story taught me to hide?

  • Where did I learn that comfort only comes in secret?

  • What wound am I trying to numb, distract, or escape?

Sin is real.
But so is trauma.
So are attachment wounds.
So are the lonely places where no one taught us how to feel, or how to need, or how to cry out for help.

In 423, we see this every week: behavior change without heart understanding does not last.

Sin must be killed. The struggler must be understood.

If we only kill sin without listening to the heart, we become harsh with ourselves and others.
If we only listen to the heart without naming the sin, we drift into permissiveness that leaves us harmed and unhealed.

True transformation holds both:
holy violence toward sin, holy compassion toward the struggler.

Because here is the truth:
Most of the men and women we meet are not choosing rebellion.
They’re choosing relief.
They’re reaching for the only strategies they learned when life got overwhelming.

That doesn’t excuse the sin.
It explains the ache.

And when we understand the ache, we can finally bring the gospel there—not just to the behavior, but to the wound underneath it.

This is the work: curiosity and courage, side by side.

Ask the brave questions:

  • When do I feel most vulnerable to the “invisible lion”?

  • What emotions do I avoid?

  • Where did I first learn to cope this way?

  • What support did I never receive?

And then take the brave action:

  • Name the sin.

  • Set the boundary.

  • Cut off the provision.

  • Bring it into community.

  • Let others help you fight.

You were not designed to kill the lion alone.
And you were never meant to shame the broken heart inside you.

God meets both places—the sin and the wound—with truth and tenderness.

In Christ, we have both the power to put sin to death
and
the safety to uncover the stories that shaped our choices.

This is the path of freedom:
Kill the sin that destroys you.
Understand the heart that drives you toward it.
And let Jesus tend both with compassion and courage.

I’m here with you in the fight.
You’re not alone.

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