We have a word for this

Fascinating exchange in my local paper.

A first-grade teacher is arrested and charged with heroin possession with intent to deal and other drug-related charges. In the comments thread on the news story, someone asks, “How in the world does a college educated person wind up with such a messed up personal life?”

It is a cultural item of faith for us that educated people do not do bad or stupid things, which of course is a patently ridiculously thing to believe as educated people do incredibly stupid and bad things all the time. And yet, we still are flabbergasted when it happens.

One good thing about being a Christian is that you do not have be surprised when “good people” or people who have had “all the advantages in life” do self-destructive things. We have a word to describe why that happens.

I pray for this young woman. She is caught in darkness beyond my understanding.

Anselm conversation continues

A comment on a post from a few days ago raises some questions that I’d love to see some further discussion about, so I’m putting the comment out here.

It is from a post quoting some of Anselm’s writing about the gravity of sin. Anselm argues, to be overly simplistic in my summary, that every sin is of incalculable significance because it violates the will of God. This is part of a larger argument about the incarnation was necessary to restore us to right relationship with God.

In the initial comment on the post, Anselm was criticized for his conclusions based on a hypothetical situation that said we should not violate the least command of God even if it meant entire worlds would be destroyed by our refusal to disobey God. Anselm’s argument was also linked to the theology of Fred Phelps of Westboro Baptist Church. In my response to that comment, I explained that my goal in trying to understand Anselm was to determine whether I found him persuasive.

Which sets the stage for reading and responding to this comment from a reader:

I’m confused about a number of things now.

1. Are we actually trying to figure out whether Anselm’s works have “merit or value”? This is Saint Anselm, right? A Father of the Church, who was esteemed by all Christians until about 400 years ago. Shouldn’t we be trying to understand his work, not judge its “merit or value”?

2. I think two other issues have been fused in the discussion. One is “How big a deal is it” to knowingly violate God’s will. The other is, are there gradations of sin? It seems obvious to me, a non-theologian, that to willingly violate God’s will is a big deal, Is there a serious argument otherwise? The question of gradations of sin seems to have more to do with one’s views about reconciliation and how that works.

3. And in the first response, I don’t understand how the question about God’s will, and how that enters into the definition of the good, relates to the notion of sin, which has to do with our obedience to God. It sounds like the writer is somehow letting a human’s view of what is good trump God’s will. That’s gotta be sinful.

4. Interesting point about the Reverend Phelps, but there is an additional lesson there. Situations like his (Rev. Phelps) arise when there is no disciplined hierarchy involved in the declaration and proclamation of God’s word. He is a radical outlier who represents only himself, not the settled views of orthodoxy. Anselm was the opposite of that.

Responses?

UM Beliefs: More on sin

My recent post from the new book Key United Methodist Beliefs raised a couple of questions about how the authors, William J. Abraham and David Watson, discuss the issue of sin. So, here is a follow-up that I hope does justice to their chapter in the book.

Each chapter in the book is broken down into five sections.

• A Wesleyan Faith – A presentation of John Wesley’s teaching and the roots of it in Christian tradition.
• A Living Faith – A engagement with how the particular issue might affect the way we live our faith.
• A Deeper Faith – A place to tackle tough questions or complicated issues raised by the topic of the chapter.
• Catechism – Questions and Answers with Scriptural support where possible.
• In Your Own Words – Questions designed to help the reader or small group formulate their own responses and understandings based on the chapter.

Chapter 5 “What Is Sin?” begins with the observation that John Wesley viewed all people as sinful. It then asks the obvious question: “What is sin?” The answer: “It is any violation of God’s will.”

From this definition, the chapter moves immediately to a discussion of original sin as understood by Wesley and based on the writing of Paul and interpretation of Augustine. The authors discuss original sin as a distortion of our desires and also as inherited guilt. (Wesley, to my reading, did not share this emphasis on inherited guilt, but the authors may have in mind Augustine here more than Wesley.)

They note the nature of sin as personal (which they term small scale) and social (which they term “on a grand scale”) and argue that sin is not simply something people do but is a spiritual agent. Their discussion on this topic, as much of the book, attempts to describe what many people believe without being entirely prescriptive.

The chapter moves on to discuss living faith by writing about situations in which we know what we should do but do not want to do it.

It is simply a part of the human condition that at times we will want to think, speak, and do things that God does not wish. We should expect this to happen, and when it does, God allows us to choose the right way or the wrong way to live. When we choose the wrong way, however, we should not expect to find lasting happiness. Only in God can we find lasting happiness and true fulfillment.

The rest of the “Living Faith” section of the chapter is a discussion of the last line above, including reference to Augustine’s famous observation that our heart is always restless until if finds rest in God. Our tendency to seek fulfillment in things other than God leads us to idolatry and misuse of things and people.

In the “Deeper Faith” section of the chapter, as I discussed in my earlier post, the authors explore the reasons behind the rules as an interpretation on Mark 2:27 where Jesus says the Sabbath was made for humankind.

The chapter closes with the catechism and the questions to answer. Both include focus on the person and work of Satan, which is highlighted in the “Living Faith” section of the chapter. The catechism quotes Psalm 51:5 as it discusses original sin, which highlights the idea of original guilt, which as I wrote above I do not think was an emphasis on John Wesley.

I’ll close with just a couple of general comments about the book. First, it is well done, although with a few typographical issues. It is well organized and written in a way that does not assume a seminary degree. I don’t think it would work well for a class of new Christians, but would be good for Christians who are trying to understand their faith more deeply. In many ways, the book tries to do the impossible — describe what United Methodists believe — but it does it well.

You will, however, notice some particular interests of the authors peaking through the curtains as you read. As part of what once was a theological construction project called Canonial Theism, they have particular views about Scripture and the other gifts of the Holy Spirit provided to the church to help form people in the way of Christ. So, for instance, their  chapter on Scripture is about the Bible and the creeds. In another place, the catechism over the Trinity uses Eastern Orthodox answers, which remove the filoque clause, although the authors do retain the clause in the version of the Nicene Creed reproduced from the United Methodist Hymnal.

These are minor, but to me interesting, observations. All in all, the book is well done, engaging, and certainly a useful one for any church wanting to delve more deeply into the meaning of the faith.

Anselm: The gravity of sin

Methoblogger Morgan Guyton wrote recently about his perception of the way contemporary evangelicals misunderstand and misuse the theology of Anselm of Canterbury. His description and post got me wanting to learn more about Anselm’s theology. I’ve only read bits of it here and there, including in my Intro to Theology class at United Theological Seminary. So, I purchased a book with some of Anselm’s major writings, including his essays on incarnation and atonement.

In his treatise Why God Became Man, Anselm writes about the gravity of sin. To make his point, Anselm proposes a hypothetical situation. He asks the reader to imagine we are standing before God. A person tells us to look to the left. God, however, commands us not to turn our eyes to the left. In this situation, Anselm asks, is there any thing that would cause you to ignore God’s command?

Anselm argues that our answer should be no. Indeed, he argues that even if there were a multitude of universes and that by looking to the left we could keep them all from being destroyed, we should not violate the will and command of God, which would be sin. Even the smallest sin, he argues, is as weighty as the choice to let a thousand inhabited worlds be obliterated. To ignore the will of God in any way is of incalculable consequence.

“[T]his is how gravely we sin whenever we knowingly do something, however small, contrary to the will of God. For we are always in his presence, and He always commands us not to sin.

I can hear how Anselm’s view plays out in some later theology. John Wesley agreed fully that any sin we commit is of such high consequence that there is nothing we could ever do to set things right. Reinhold Niebuhr would argue to the contrary that there are degrees of sin. A little sin is little and a big sin is big. I presume Niebuhr would argue that there are times when it would be okay to look left when God says not to.

What I’m not certain about is how biblical Anselm’s view of sin is. I am certainly mindful of the death of Uzzah when God struck him down for reaching out to keep the Ark of the Covenant from jostling. I think of Ananias and Sapphira lying at the first stewardship meeting.

It gets me thinking and asking: How big a deal is it to knowingly violate the will of God?

Do I make broad what is narrow?

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” (Matthew 7:13-14, NIV)

These words were brought to mind recently listen to someone opine about the love of God. The gist of the argument this person was making was that if God loves us, he would never hold against us such minor things as the kinds of sins most of us do. It would really be unfair and disproportionate to leave in the power of the devil those who do not conform — or aspire to conform — to a high standard of holiness.

And as pleasing as this sounds to my ears, I cannot avoid thinking of Scripture passages that appear to say the very opposite. The above from the Sermon on the Mount stands out the most clearly to me.

The biblical witness appears to describe a black and white choice. With apologies to Adam Hamilton, the Scripture does not appear to see much gray. There is a way of life and there is a way of death.

In his sermon on the two verses at the top of this post, John Wesley pointed out just how broad the way of death is:

For sin is the gate of hell, and wickedness the way to destruction. And how wide a gate is that of sin! How broad is the way of wickedness! The “commandment” of God “is exceeding broad;” as extending not only to all our actions, but to every word which goeth out of our lips, yea, every thought that rises in our heart. And sin is equally broad with the commandment, seeing any breach of the commandment is sin. Yea, rather, it is a thousand times broader; since there is only one way of keeping the commandment; for we do not properly keep it, unless both the thing done, the manner of doing it, and all the other circumstances, are right: But there are a thousand ways of breaking every commandment; so that this gate is wide indeed.

Now we recoil at this description of God and our status before him. I have long lost count of the number of people who have told me that talking about sin with people is the surest way to turn them away from God. I have to admit that all the talk and my own natural inclination to get along with people and not offend has kept me from preaching about the topic nearly as much as John Wesley would have me do it.

In the end, though, my people pleasing side just cannot shut up the voice of Scripture. Both testaments speak of the holiness of God in very clear terms. Neither describes a large mushy gray area between the way of life and the way of death, the holy and the unholy, the righteous and the wicked. As much as we Wesleyans like to talk about both/and, the Scripture trades in a lot of either/or talk about these issues.

So, then, how can I be a faithful preacher and proclaimer of Scripture and not draw attention to passages such as Matthew 7:13-14 and the other places where Scripture teaches us to mind where we tread?

Seven kinds of sin

Do Christians sin?

It is a commonplace for even we Wesleyans to say our congregations are full of sinners and to comfort ourselves with the reassurance that “nobody is perfect” when dealing with sins that we cannot seem to overcome. But are such ideas in keeping with our Methodist roots?

John Wesley’s sermon “The First Fruits of the Spirit” has a fairly detailed discussion about the relationship between being a Christian and sin. It reveals the careful distinctions that mark his diagnosis of the soul.

To trace every distinction here would require a post nearly as long as his sermon, so I will offer an outline and leave it to you to read the sermon in full.

When it comes to sin he writes of:

• Past sin, both its power and guilt
• Present sin (willful violation of the laws of God)
• Inward sin
• Sin clinging to all we do because of a corrupt nature
• Sins of infirmity, which he does not call sin
• Lack of ability to do our duty or avoid harm
• Sins of surprise

Scholars and critics point out problems in Wesley’s theology of sin, but no one can accuse him of not thinking carefully about it.

As I read his sermons, the metaphor that constantly comes to mind is that of a doctor of the soul. Wesley is a careful observer of the diseases of the soul who offers treatments that are fitted to the ailment.

To answer my own initial question, John Wesley would argue that a Christian does not commit any willful, knowing violation of the commands of God. If a person were to do so he or she would cease to be a Christian. But living as we do in corrupted and finite flesh, Christians are never fully free from sin. It is ever present and we are prone to commit all manner of wrongs or harms arising from our limited understanding and weaknesses. Even our most noble acts are stained by pride. Even our prayers are plagued by dull spirits and wandering thoughts.

A Christian does not sin, Wesley would say, but in this life we are never totally free of the effects and the threat of sin. This is why we need Jesus Christ at every point in our Christian journey. We need him to strengthen us and protect us from the ongoing presence of sin, and we need him to forgive us if we fall away from faith and back into the sin would pull us from the light and into the darkness again.

 

Did Adam sin?

Why is what Adam and Eve did a sin?

Yes, I’m serious about this question.

Paul writes that sin entered the world through Adam.

Adam’s sin, the traditional view goes, was disobedience to the express command of God. Sin, in this view, is any breaking of the law and command of God. John Wesley added that sin must be willful or intentional breaking of God’s law.

I read someone once who argued that Paul was not calling what Adam did sin, but saying sin was the curse that God imposed as a result of Adam’s actions. Sin entered the world because of Adam but sin is not a name for what he did when he took a bite of that fruit. I’ve had others tell me — without reference to Adam — that sin is only sin if it causes some sort of harm to ourselves or others. Since God cannot be harmed, this strikes me as a definition that excludes Adam’s actions from the category of sin.

What do you think?

What to say to sinners

After posting some questions about sin and our response to it, I decided to go back and read what John Wesley wrote about “The Duty of Reproving Our Neighbor.”

The sermon is interesting as a piece of pastoral teaching, although it is not generally considered one the doctrinal standards for Methodism. The Scriptural reference for the sermon is also interesting. It takes Leviticus 19:17 as its text, which comes right before Leviticus 19:18, which many will identify as the source of the second part of the Great Commandment.

In this post, I will attempt to recount briefly why Wesley said we should correct our neighbor when they sin, under what conditions he said we should do this, and how he said we should do it.

We ask why we should take up this practice. Wesley’s sermon passes over this question quickly because to him it requires no argument to carry the day. We should correct those who sin because Scripture commands it and because it is the loving thing to do. Allowing a person to sin or to do things that lead to sin is to hate them in our hearts.

With that settled, he spends the greatest part of the sermon on questions of technique.

First, he warns us not to attempt to correct anyone over a matter about which there is honest dispute whether it is a sin or not.

A thing may possibly appear evil to me; therefore I scruple the doing of it; and if I were to do it while that scruple remains, I should be a sinner before God. But another is not to be judged by my conscience: To his own master he standeth or falleth. Therefore I would not reprove him, but for what is clearly and undeniably evil.

As examples, he cites things that he says not even people who do them will defend, or defend long when pressed. He lists drunkenness, profane cursing and swearing, and profaning the Lord’s Day. In our day, we cannot help but notice that many Christians and pastors would dismiss the last two items as harmless. But still, we can find sins that most people would agree are evil. It is to these that Wesley said we should confine our work of reproving.

This first condition, of course, raises some interesting questions about the hot-button issues of sexuality that so occupy us. Does that fact that we have much dispute about them make them things of a disputable nature that Wesley says should be off the table for mutual correction? His object appears to be to call people into line in a way in which they would agree is best, so I suspect that is the case, especially when we consider another suggestion he makes.

Wesley argues that we should correct even those who are like the “swine” that Jesus tells us not to throw our pearls before. Even those who reject the gospel, Wesley writes, when they do something that they know to be evil, we should correct them. Notice again that Wesley is arguing that our correction be in line with the values and norms of the one being corrected. We are calling them to a standard that they already embrace. We are not arguing them into agreeing with us, but calling them to act in line with their own beliefs.

But then how are we to do this?

Wesley writes that it must be done in a spirit of love, with humility, and in meekness. He warns against looking down on the one we correct or having any trace of anger in our words or demeanor. He says we should be serious, except in rare cases where jesting will do. He says we should be discerning about whether many words are needed or few or none at all. He says we should trust in God to guide our words and advises using the words of Scripture where appropriate. A large part of the sermon is taken up with this kind of coaching on technique.

Then, Wesley closes the sermon, which is dated 1787, with a call to Methodists to take up the practice again.

I have now only a few words to add unto you, my brethren, who are vulgarly called “Methodists.” I never heard or read of any considerable revival of religion which was not attended with a spirit of reproving. I believe it cannot be otherwise; for what is faith, unless it worketh by love? Thus it was in every part of England when the present revival of religion began about fifty years ago: All the subjects of that revival, — all the Methodists, so called, in every place, were reprovers of outward sin. And, indeed, so are all that “being justified by faith, have peace with God through Jesus Christ.” Such they are at first; and if they use that precious gift, it will never be taken away. Come, brethren, in the name of God, let us begin again!

I take from this sermon that all Christians should view it as a duty to speak words of gentle correction when anyone in our life does what they know to be evil. In our age, it might be hard to identify all cases of this. We view a lot of things as harmless or even good that our ancestors found evil. Nonetheless, we are called, Wesley argues, to correct each other when we go astray.

How does sin matter?

I cannot retrace the path by which I came upon Greg Boyd’s “sermonette” on Christians voting on secular political ballot measures regarding gay marriage, but I was watching it this morning. (See bottom of this post for video.)

Boyd’s “open theism” is controversial in evangelical Christianity, but Arminian thinkers such as Roger Olson argue it should be included within the larger family of theology that includes Wesleyan theology.

Boyd’s primary argument comes down to “leave the judging to God,” “we all sin,” and “our only job is to love.” He also hits hard on the notion the biggest sins in the church are the ones we talk least about.

Late in the talk he does compare other Christians to the Taliban, which strikes me as a violation of his own principles. He also makes an argument that does not seem terribly in keeping with biblical practice. He says no one should ever point out a sin to another unless they are in a small group covenant to do that. Both Jesus and the epistles, though, speak of how we should approach and speak to those who sin. The Old Testament, of course, has very strong examples of ways of speaking about sin and to sinners.

Near the end of the video, Boyd almost seems to enter a contract with the congregation. He points out that nearly all of them are sinning by the way they hoard up their wealth instead of distributing it to the poor. But instead of pressing that point on them, he — to my ears — offers a deal. He won’t make a big deal about that if they don’t make a big deal about other sins.

I think the video captures perfectly the arguments and accommodations that many of us make with sins of all sorts. What I struggle with — in the end — is whether that is loving, as Boyd argues it is. He begins the video by stating that lots of ways Americans have sex are sin, but, in the end, he does not appear to believe that much is at stake in that. He appears to think most or all of his congregation are sinning by the way they use money, but he does not seem to think they are put at risk by that, at least not grave risk.

I presume Boyd would not take such a laid back attitude if he knew someone were drinking arsenic. I presume he would permit us to stop someone if we saw them stumbling into traffic. Maybe I am wrong about that.

As the focus of this blog is Wesleyan theology, I will note here that John Wesley would argue that it is loving to call people to attention to their sin, for if people die in their sin they die eternally. He wrote often, in fact, that to remain silent in the face of sin was the opposite of love.

If I understand Boyd, he would see Wesley’s approach as judgmental.

How does one adopt a radical attitude toward judgment (never tell someone they are doing something wrong) and still treat sin as if it were a grave and dangerous thing?

If you have some ideas about what I am misunderstanding or mishearing in Boyd, I’d appreciate knowing what you hear.

Lance Armstrong & sin

The Los Angeles Times has a piece pegged to the Lance Armstrong story about the universality of lying.

Though we profess to hate it, lying is common, useful and pretty much universal. It is one of the most durable threads in our social fabric and an important bulwark of our self-esteem. We start lying by the age of 4 and we do it at least several times a day, researchers have found. And we get better with practice.
In short, whatever you think about Lance Armstrong‘s admission this week that he took performance-enhancing drugs to fuel his illustrious cycling career, the lies he told may be no more persistent or outsized than yours, according to psychologists and others who study deception. They were just more public. And the stakes were bigger.

As I read this, Romans 3:23 kept leaping up in my mind. I also thought of GK Chesterton’s observation that original sin is the only part of Christian doctrine that can be proved.

As the story says in the next paragraph:

“People do it because it works,” said Robert Feldman, dean of social and behavioral sciences at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst and a leading researcher on thepsychology of lying. “We get away with lies all the time. Usually they’re minor: ‘I love your tie.’ ‘You did a great job.’ But in some cases they’re bigger, and in Armstrong’s case, he was pretty confident he could get away with it.”

It’s not easy to lie. Psychologists and neuroscientists have found that — initially, at least — deceit requires mental exertion for most of us. The effort to reconcile a lie with the truth — or with our notions of ourselves as good people — takes up so much brainpower that as we do it, we may actually forget to perform such effortless acts as blinking.

To sustain a lie over years, and against mounting evidence of its untruth, liars large and small must “develop an infrastructure around it,” Feldman said — a litany of justifications that makes it possible to cling to deception and convince ourselves that we are good people in spite of it.

“But as time goes on, it gets easier,” Feldman said.

So, sin is universal and it gets easier to do the more often we do it. I did not expect a theological tract while reading the LA Times. Maybe that is not what the times expected either. But I that is what I found there.