Redemption from Unhealthy Theology

It was a beautiful old church. The dark wood reflected the colors streaming in through the bright stained glass windows. Perhaps thirty of us gathered for this Sunday morning service. The church could probably seat about 450 people. Looking around, it seemed as though I was probably the youngest in attendance.

I read online that the minister described himself as progressive. That’s why I chose to attend the service. I thought perhaps I’d meet a like minded colleague. He was full of life and energy, but with all his energy, the space was so big and empty that the sanctuary still felt hollow.

As he began the sermon, I was hopeful as to what I’d hear. While the delivery was up-beat with some interesting illustrations, the basic message was the same: we were sinful people in need of a savior. While he didn’t use those exact words, the theology was heavily influenced by Calvinist thought. The words were polite. We don’t have the strength on our own; we go astray; we wander off; we are selfish and unable to do the right thing. We need Jesus to save us, redeem us, to bring us back to the path.

I’ve never understood how Christianity developed such a strong theological foundation that is contrary to the Bible. Augustine invented the concept of original sin: that before we were born, we carry “the stain” of sin because Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit. Jesus didn’t believe that. Over the first 300 years of Christianity, no one believed that. The belief among early Christians was that humanity failed to live up to our potential (aka, “the fall”) not that we were sinners from birth. But Augustine, who we’d probably view as today as someone plagued by multiple addictions, came up with the idea after he pulled himself up by his boot straps. (My friends in AA call someone like that a “dry drunk.”) John Calvin, a major Protestant reformer, was captivated by Augustine’s idea of original sin. Calvin developed it further. According to Calvin, people aren’t just original sinners; we’re fundamentally depraved. According to Calvin, there is no good in us.

Popular spiritual writer Matthew Fox calls this theological perspective “fall/redemption.” It describes the various paradigms that understand humanity as a group of sinners needing salvation. Most people think it’s the heart of Christianity even though it’s an aberration of the Bible.

The book of Genesis provides two allegorical stories of the creation of humanity. In one story, God is depicted as saying that humanity is “very, very good.” In another, the Divine Being is portrayed as breathing life into the first human, giving humanity a share of divine life. Genesis explains that humanity is created in the image and likeness of God. That was the central belief of early Christian theology and it continues to be true among Eastern Orthodox Christians. George Fox, the founder of the Quakers, understood this. He stated, “There is that which is of God in everyone.”

At heart, people are good. Anyone who has held a baby knows that the infant isn’t a sinner nor depraved, as Calvin labeled the human condition. The Biblical understanding is that people are first and foremost created in the image and likeness of God, that our lives emanate from a divine source, and that in each of us is something of God. Do we hide, forget, and obstruct that divine essence from time to time? Yes. But it’s still there. We simply need to live in consonance with it.

A theology which says that we need to be saved from what’s inside of us is actually saying that we need to deny the sacred root of who we are. No matter what nice words are put around it, understanding human beings as being fundamentally sinful is never a progressive idea but a fundamentally regressive one. Ultimately, I find spending time with folks who believe we’re fundamentally bad and in need of saving to be more harmful than helpful. It seems to be that they are doing nothing more than denying the truth of their own being.

While I’d like to draw this posting into a nice, neat conclusion, I really don’t have one. But I suspect that others who read this have similar frustrations with theology they’ve been taught or encounter. Because of that, I’d like to invite you to share your frustrations so that together we can find ways to explore what we know inside of us to be true.