Tinsel: Original Sin
Grace is Prior
Luke 1:68-79
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. Dec. 8th, 2024
G.K. Chesterton, the Catholic journalist and man of letters, once remarked that he thought it was surprising that “certain new theologians dispute original sin, which is the only part of Christian theology which can really be proved.” At least, according to Chesterton, if there is any element of Christian theology open to empirical verification it’s that people just ain’t no good.
But I think Chesterton is doing a little slight of hand here. I want to do justice to those who have trouble with the doctrine original sin. Original sin is not the doctrine that people do bad things from time to time. Or even that people have a tendency to do the bad thing. It is the idea that being born in sin we are held captive to sin. That when Adam and Eve ate of the forbidden fruit they contaminated all of humanity with sin. The reformation doctrine here is that we are totally depraved, that we cannot help but sin in all that we do. At least, when it comes to our own powers, as concerns our own nature.
Perhaps you see why someone might bristle at the idea that we are held so entirely captive to sin we can’t do anything but sin. This idea is not, in fact, empirically verifiable. It would seem, rather, the opposite idea is empirically verifiable. There are all sorts of decent buddhists, muslims, jews, and atheists. People who have sacrificed for the ideals of humanity, justice, and compassion. I only need to point to the example of Gandhi, who showed a willingness to sacrifice for the sake of freedom that is inspiring even for Christians.
Not only does it seem empirically verifiable that people are capable of doing good on their own power, but it also seems unnecessarily dour and anti-human to suggest otherwise. How can we say original sin is good news? How many people have experienced being called a sinner simply as a form of condemnation without hope of justification? It seems like original sin runs counter to the best insights of our time. We might say original sin piles on trauma. When people just need hope.
There’s a famous sermon from the puritan days given by a preacher by the name of Jonathan Edwards. In it he likens the human predicament to a spider being held over the fire by God, “his wrath towards you burns like fire; he looks upon you as worthy of nothing else, but to be cast into the fire; he is of purer eyes than to bear to have you in his sight; you are ten thousand times more abominable in his eyes, than the most hateful venomous serpent is in ours.” Is this what we mean when we talk about Original Sin?
Classic evangelical sermons start from sin and move to grace. They seek to puncture our confidence in ourselves. Tear apart our illusions about how successful we are, or how good we are. I know of one evangelistic technique that asks someone if they’ve stolen anything in their lives. Most have, even if it was a candy bar or a song online. So you say, “so you are a thief, then? What do you think should happen to thieves? Have you lied? Well you’re a liar then. What do you think should happen to liars?” And so on. The idea is before you can get the good news, you need to be fully aware of the bad news. God’s grace is magnified by our own unworthiness, by our own predicament.
There is a place for such preaching. John the Baptist preaches repentance. The people need to turn away from their sins and toward the grace of God. For many it is beneficial that they hit rock bottom, so that God can raise them up. But if we start at Original Sin, act as if Original Sin is the one empirically verifiable aspect of our theology, I think we’ll miss something very important and distort the gospel. We can only come to a knowledge of the depth of our sinfulness, if we first come to a knowledge of the fullness of God's grace. The grace of God is always, always, always prior.
This morning’s responsive reading is Zechariah’s Benedictus from Luke chapter 1. When the Lord loosen’s Zechariah’s lips upon the birth of his son John he sings out this song. It concludes thus, “And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give his people knowledge of salvation by the forgiveness of their sins. Because of the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to shine upon those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” I recite this song in my personal devotions most every day. And I’m always struck by the image of “the dawn from on high” or, as older translations render it, “the dayspring from on high.” Zechariah sings that John is to give his people knowledge of salvation, because their sins will be forgiven. And that, in this time, God will bring about a great light, a new dawn, that will set peoples feet straight. That before they were in darkness, now they may be in light. And being able to see, they will know where to go.
Part of sin is self-deception. We are very good at self-deception. We are very good at excusing our own sins, which are of course not as grave as the other person’s. We are very good at excusing the sins of those we like, while magnifying the sins of those we don’t like. We are very good at straying from God. Keeping ourselves shut out in a life of amusement and entertainment. We seek out illusions that keep us from seeing as God sees. Living as God would have us live. This illusion, this self-deception, is shattered by God’s grace. By the preaching of the word, by encounter with God, by our own illusions breaking down. And when this happens, it is by the light of God’s grace, that we may look back and see how we once were.
Original sin is meant to identify this reality. That we are not as good as we think, and it is by grace that we are delivered. Thanks be to God.