You can’t think your way out

You can’t think your way out

All summer, I’ve been chipping away at my next book, which is a practical exploration of a single pregnant verse of Scripture: Micah 6:8.

He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
and what does the LORD require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?

After mulling various possible projects, I landed on this one, in part, because it seems like the one that can best serve both spiritual seekers and the church in our current cultural moment.

I’m now drafting the last full chapter, which is on humility.

Or rather, that’s what I thought it would be on.

It still is, but it strikes me as important that the lone action verb at the end of Micah 6:8 is not “Humble thyself” or “Be humble”—but rather: “walk.”

“Walk humbly with your God.”

The Hebrew word is halak, which has a long history in the Scriptures.

God’s Law is described as halakha: “the way of walking.”

The imagery goes back to Genesis. We read there that Enoch walked with God (Genesis 5:24). Noah walked with God (Genesis 6:9). And even earlier, the LORD’s first mention after Adam and Eve eat the fruit is of God “walking in the garden in the cool of the day” (Genesis 3:8)—searching for his walking partners.

WALKING > THINKING

The call to “walk” is helpful to me personally because I have a tendency to get stuck in my own head. Analyzing. Ruminating. Evaluating. Replaying. Comparing. Worrying. Constructing the perfect response to the imagined slight that happened yesterday.

And while thinking is fine and good (says the college professor), it is precisely this “stuck-ness” in our own heads that is the deadly enemy of both humility and joy.

In fact, I’ve come to question the common assumption that we should speak of humility merely in opposition to the sin of pride. Yes, pride is real and deadly, but in my experience I see problem more like this:

Thus, the beauty of the call to “walk”—and walk humbly.

A wise colleague suggested to me that the use of “humbly” in the verse connects not just to our need to “walk” (in general, or alone), but to walking “with” a certain kind of Partner. That is: it takes humility to walk with a greater Other, to let him set the pace, neither running ahead (in pride) nor ghosting him to hide behind fig leaves (in shame and self-loathing).

While restless, self-conscious comparison is a loop that takes place in our heads, walking is a slow, embodied practice. One foot, then the other.

As such, it moves the focus out of our heads, where, in the famous line from David Foster Wallace,

“Everything in my own immediate experience supports my deep belief that I am the absolute center of the universe, the realest, most vivid and important person in existence.”

This reminds me of a story.

“WE’LL THINK OUR WAY OUT”

When I was new to ministry, and serving as an intern at a local church, I was blessed to attend a teaching conference at a massive megachurch in the Chicago area.

For a kid from rural Kansas, I had seen nothing like it. The sanctuary could have housed a minor league hockey club, the music was pitch-perfect (U2-inspired, obviously); and while every speaker could have hosted a TED Talk followed by a comedy special, my favorite preacher brought a live goat on stage to illustrate a point about the high priesthood of Jesus.

To be honest, I loved the conference. And I still believe God uses different types of churches to reach different types of people. Looking back, however, it isn’t hard to see the interplay of hubris, inferiority, and comparison that thrives in such settings—not just in the organizers, but in attendees like me.

One line stuck with me so much that I remember it verbatim.

In a breakout session, one of the church’s executive pastors explained one of their internal mottos: “We will think our way out of any problem.” It was meant as a calming encouragement in the face of future challenges. As in: Yes, we will invariably encounter setbacks and surprises, but if we think clearly, creatively, and objectively, we can always engineer a way out. I remember scribbling down the quote within my conference notebook.

Alas, I no longer agree.

Years later, when this same megachurch imploded in scandal and the inevitable coverup, it became clear just how wrong the maxim was. Some the most destructive fallout—overlooking impropriety, silencing victims, subbing NDAs for repentance—came from leaders trying desperately to “think their way out” of sin rather than coming clean, holding accountable, and taking the next difficult but faithful step.

The logic of PR firm won out over the ethos of the Kingdom. Gnosis (“knowledge”) over halakha. Cunning over wisdom.

Here then is the way I see it now: You can think your way into sin, but you can’t think your way out of it.

As the saying from AA goes, “Remember, your best thinking landed you here.”

Israel doesn’t think her way out of slavery. Lazarus doesn’t think his way from the tomb. And Paul most certainly doesn’t think his way out of persecuting Christians and into apostleship. In all cases, God intervened; then his people had the choice of whether they’d start walking or stay put.

None of that diminishes the importance of clear, well-ordered, rigorous thought, which can be the midwife and the handmaid to obedience.

But it does mean this: You can reason well or poorly, but neither is sufficient for the “good” that God requires: To do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.


Hello friends. Please subscribe on the homepage to receive these posts by email. This is especially helpful since I’ve decided (mostly) to uncouple the blog from social media. Thanks for reading. ~JM

Are all sins equal before God? (part 2)

Are all sins equal before God? (part 2)

In the last post, I examined what I take to be a common false assumption in some Christian circles: namely, that all sins are equal in the sight of God.

While acknowledging the gravity and pervasiveness of sin, my reasons for rejecting the myth were fourfold:

  1. Scripture never says it.
  2. Scripture teaches the opposite.
  3. Common sense and church tradition corroborate the Bible.
  4. There’s a hidden danger in the myth, especially for victims.

Since the prior post focused on points 1 and 2, this one will move (eventually) to points 3 and 4.

But before that, let me aim for a bit more charity in understanding why the false assumption might arise.

TOWARD CHARITY

First, I suspect some folks gravitate to the myth partly because they have a rightful aversion to the religious impulse to create a “ranked” list of sins that (conveniently) focus on the faults of others while ignoring our own. That worry is understandable. Jesus takes aim at this hypocrisy in his parable about the Pharisee who is confident in his own righteousness while loudly condemning the sins of others, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector” (Luke 18:11).

Thankfully, to accept the biblical position that some sins are more serious in God’s sight than others (see part 1), need not lead to this self-righteous posture—in part, because (if anything) it is the sin of callous and exploitative self-righteousness that falls most under Christ’s condemnation. Nor should it lead to the fearful false assumption that God can’t forgive me because I have committed a particularly heinous or unpardonable sin. Though that’s a topic for another post, the worry of blaspheming of the Holy Spirit likely has more to do with a human unwillingness to repent rather than a divine unwillingness to save and forgive. As Charles Wesley put it, “His blood can make the foulest clean,” and “His blood availed for me.”

Second, I suspect another reason for the “all sins are equal” assumption involves passages like James 2 (mentioned last time), or Galatians 3:10, which claim the following:

“For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it. For he who said, ‘Do not commit adultery,’ also said, ‘Do not murder.’ If you do not commit adultery but do murder, you have become a transgressor of the law.” ~James 2:10-11

“For all who rely on works of the law are under a curse; for it is written, ‘Cursed be everyone who does not abide by all things written in the Book of the Law, and do them.'”
~Galatians 3:10 (citing Deuteronomy 27:26)

(As a side note: I love how these texts counteract the false assumption [set forth by Luther] that James and Paul stand in blatant contradiction with one another, especially in James 2 and Galatians. While that’s a conversation for another day, here we see two deeply Jewish Christ-followers making quite similar points with respect to Torah.)

But does that mean all sins are equal in severity before God?

No. Neither passage says that.

Rather, both teach that breaking any of God’s laws makes one a lawbreaker, which makes one liable to judgment. Hence, we cannot be saved by works of Law (Paul), nor should we fail to love our impoverished neighbors while showing favoritism to the rich and powerful (James). Both points are important. But both fit in the “all sin is sin,” “all sin is serious,” and “all sin is liable to judgment” bucket, not the “all sins are equal” one.

By analogy, if I boast in my perfect driving record because I have not been involved in a vehicular homicide; yet I conveniently forget that I have a DUI and thirteen speeding tickets, three truths follow: (1) My boasting is hypocritical, (2) I am a lawbreaker, and (3) I am liable to judgment. But these facts do not imply that the tickets, the DUI, and the vehicular homicide are equal in severity. All break the law. All are serious. And all make one liable to judgement apart from grace or mercy. But not all are equal before a judge who is just.

On these points, both common sense and church tradition concur with Scripture.

COMMON SENSE AND CHURCH TRADITION

It’s important to note that the false assumption we’ve been addressing is primarily a “pop-Christian saying,” not an official doctrinal position across most faith traditions.

As proof, it is rejected outright by Catholics, Calvinists, and Wesleyans alike.

Catholicism:

Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1992

CCC 1854: Sins are rightly evaluated according to their gravity. The distinction between mortal and venial sin, already evident in Scripture, became part of the tradition of the Church. It is corroborated by human experience.

CCC 1855: Mortal sin destroys charity in the heart of man by a grave violation of God’s law… Venial sin allows charity to subsist, even though it offends and wounds it.

CCC 1856: Mortal sin, by attacking the vital principle within us—that is, charity—necessitates a new initiative of God’s mercy and a conversion of heart which is normally accomplished within the setting of the sacrament of reconciliation.

The Reformed/Presbyterian Tradition:

The Westminster Larger Catechism (1648)
The Westminster Larger Catechism clearly teaches that some sins are more grievous than others:

Q. 150. Are all transgressions of the law of God equally heinous in themselves, and in the sight of God?

A. All transgressions of the law of God are not equally heinous; but some sins in themselves, and by reason of several aggravations, are more heinous in the sight of God than others (Jn 19:11; Ezk 8:6, 13, 15; 1 Jn 5:16; Ps 78:17, 32, 56).

Wesley:

For his own part, when John Wesley revised the Westminster Standards, he left the above Q/A unchanged to demonstrate his agreement.

Yet his position (as revealed by other statements on the topic) relied not only on Scripture or tradition, but also upon what he calls “reason” (or just plain common sense).

In other words, a God who weighs all sins as equally heinous would be manifestly unjust. He would stand in blatant contradiction to the LORD revealed within the Law of Israel (a problem that I never broached within the prior post, but which points in the same direction).

In sum, these examples (Catholic, Reformed, and Wesleyan) reveal that the assumption about all sins being equal in severity is just that: a “pop assumption,” and not a view that enjoys broad support across the centuries.

Now for a more practical concern.

ABUSE AND ANTINOMIANISM

One last reason to reject the myth has to do with the way it has been weaponized to do great harm, especially to victims of abuse.

You’d have to live under rock to miss that scandals, exploitation, and their coverup have plagued American evangelicalism in recent years.

To choose one example, just down the road from me in rural Oklahoma, the pastor of a Texas megachurch (one of the largest in the country) was just indicted on five counts of lewd or indecent acts to a child for offenses that took place decades earlier. To make matters worse, we now know numerous Christian leaders (in his own church and in others) knew of these heinous acts. Not only did they fail to report them, but they also continued to protect and elevate the pastor in his own church and in other churches all around the country.

Of course, it would be wrong to blame such acts of cowardice and injustice on a misguided assumption about all sins being equal. (I have no idea if that line was used in this particular case.)

Still, we need not look far to see how that saying has been used to silence victims, sweep abuse under rug, and move quickly to “restore” offenders to places of leadership without justice or accountability.

After all, if all sins are equal in God’s eyes, who are we to disagree?

More commonly, however, the myth leads to a form of antinomianism. Here, the logic runs as follows: “I’m going to sin no matter what, and all sins are equal, [insert whatever destructive tendency I’d like to excuse].”

In a weird way, the fact that the misguided view is not enshrined in Christian doctrine or affirmed in most church traditions may actually add to its power.

It’s a “pop-assumption,” which makes it more prevalent at a popular level.

CONCLUSION

Thankfully, the confluence of Scripture, tradition, and common sense give ample grounds to retire this false assumption.

In the end: God is just. Sin is serious. All are sinners. But not all sins are equal in their heinousness or consequences.

That said, it feels wrong to end there. Better to close with Charles Wesley on the good news of a grace that extends to any sin you have committed, regardless of its nature.

He breaks the power of cancelled sin,
he sets the prisoner free;
his blood can make the foulest clean;
his blood availed for me.


Hello friends. Please subscribe on the homepage to receive these posts by email. This is especially helpful since I’ve decided (mostly) to uncouple the blog from social media. Thanks for reading. ~JM

Are all sins equal before God? (part 1)

Are all sins equal before God? (part 1)

About once a year in my theology or Bible classes, a student will say something like the following: “But as we know, all sins are equal in God’s sight.”

In response, I’ll often ask: “How do we know that? Can you think of any passages that support the claim?” In what follows, we usually discover that the phrase “As we know” is substituting for any solid evidence from Scripture or tradition.

This realization need not be belittling. In fact, the chance to rethink our unexamined assumptions can be one of the great joys of learning, even for professors.

The Bible never states that all sins are equal in God’s sight. Several passages teach the opposite. And in the end, both common sense and church tradition corroborate the biblical witness. More importantly, the sooner we acknowledge this, the sooner we can avoid a subsequent move that sometimes does great harm, especially to victims of abuse.

Grace is real. God is just. Sin is serious. All are sinners. But none of those facts leads to anything like the equalizing of, say, child abuse and coveting thy neighbor’s goat.

Theologian Beth Felker Jones has written well on this subject over at her Substack (here), where she traces the unfortunate myth to a Protestant desire to avoid certain medieval Catholic assumptions about mortal and venial sins, penance, and a web of other questions. It’s a great post, though I can’t seem to review it now behind the Substack paywall.

My focus is slightly different.

I’d like to work quickly through the points I laid out above to show why it’s time to retire this evangelical cliché:

  1. Scripture never says it.
  2. Scripture frequently teaches the opposite.
  3. Common sense and church tradition corroborate the Bible.
  4. There’s a hidden danger in the myth, especially for victims of abuse.

To keep things short, this post deals only with points 1 and 2.

JESUS CONTRA EVANGELICALS

In the interest of being fair, I’ve tried to wrack my brain for any passages that might challenge what I’ve said above. But upon inspection, none pass muster.

Case in point: What about Jesus, when he links inner attitudes (of, say, lust or hatred) to outward actions (like adultery or murder)?

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:27–28).

From this passage, we learn that outward acts flow forth from internal ruminations. Both lust and adultery are serious and sinful. And indeed, one springs from the other like a plant from a seed, or a birth from conception (see also James 1:14-15).

Hence, we should care not just about our external actions, but about the inner habits of the heart that birth them. (In fact, this isn’t new: the Ten Commandments warn not only against theft but coveting—which arguably is what leads to theft, adultery, and sometimes murder.) What Jesus says is crucially important. But he never says, “All sins are equal.”

Elsewhere, he teaches quite the opposite.

In the texts below, Jesus links the seriousness of certain sins (and the level of their accompanying consequences) to the amount of knowledge or opportunity possessed by those who reject the way of truth and obedience.

  1. Matthew 10:15: When sending disciples to preach and minister to some of their own people, who know God’s word and yet rebel against it, he proclaims that “it will be more bearable for Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town” (Matthew 10:15).
  2. Matthew 11:22: He then says something similar when decrying the lack of repentance in the Jewish towns of Chorazin and Bethsaida, where many miracles were performed: “But I tell you, it will be more bearable for Tyre and Sidon on the day of judgment than for you.”
  3. Luke 12:47-48: More starkly, Christ tells a parable about some unwatchful servants whose punishments are proportionate to the knowledge they had of their master’s will. Their unwatchfulness is the same, but their culpability and consequences differ:

“The servant who knows the master’s will and does not get ready or does not do what the master wants will be beaten with many blows. But the one who does not know and does things deserving punishment will be beaten with few blows. From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

  1. John 19:11: Finally, when standing before Pontius Pilate, Jesus again demonstrates that while the Roman Governor is guilty of rejecting truth and (indeed) murdering an innocent man, he does so with more ignorance and less premeditation than do others. That’s no plea for Pontius Pilate, but it does mean, “the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.”

In short, Jesus is clear that while repentance is required from everyone, not all sins are equal in culpability or accompanying consequences.

What’s shocking, then, is not that Jesus sees some offenses as more egregious in God’s sight than others (that’s just common sense if God is just), but that he focuses on the sins of callous self-righteousness coming from religious insiders (scribes and Pharisees), who while having ample exposure to the word of God, still reject their Messiah and his way of peace and justice, even while they exploit the vulnerable.

Thus, prostitutes and tax-collectors flock to him, and theologians plot his murder.

Once again, Christ calls all to repentance, which is the only right response to any sin. But his talk of “millstones” is reserved for those who prey upon the “little ones” (Luke 17:2). And his most famous fire and brimstone parable is about a rich man who ignores a beggar underneath his table (Luke 16:19–31).

This makes me wonder: Is the evangelical myth about all sins being equal less about Protestant vs. medieval Catholic minutiae, and more about Christ’s way of weighing our offenses?

BEYOND JESUS

The same goes for the rest of the New Testament.

Paul is perhaps clearest of all that all people (except Jesus) are sinners (Romans 3:23), and that sin’s wages are ultimately death (Romans 6:23).

James likewise argues that to break one part of the law makes one a lawbreaker. Hence, there is no place for boasting in anything apart from Christ, in whom “Mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:10,13).

But as Miroslav Volf points out:

From “All are sinners” it does not follow that “All sins are equal.” [. . .] The aggressors’ destruction of a village and the refugees’ looting of a truck and thereby hurting their fellow refugees are equally sin, but they are not equal sins; the rapist’s violation and the woman’s hatred are equally sin, but they are manifestly not equal sins.

The world of equal sins is a world designed by the perpetrators.

~Exclusion and Embrace, p.82

In this last line, we begin to see the hinge-point between the biblical truth and why it matters in our daily lives.

More on that next time.


Hello friends. Please subscribe on the homepage to receive these posts by email. This is especially helpful since I’ve decided (mostly) to uncouple the blog from social media. Thanks for reading. ~JM