I was bullied as a child. Short and skinny kid. Big ears. Glasses. Impoverished. And just as awkward then as I am now. I didn’t stand a chance.
But I learned a little secret around 6th grade. If I started making fun of myself—if I didn’t let their barbs bother me—then it would go away. This isn’t the time or place to talk about the psychological and emotional damage that this strategy wrought. My point is different.
Fast forward to my coming to Christ. It wasn’t much of a hurdle for me to believe, “all our deeds are like filthy rags”. Nor was it difficult for me to heartily affirm what Paul said in Romans 7:18
For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. –Romans 7:18
It’s never been too difficult for me to acknowledge my sinfulness before God. Nor even to say that I’m sinful in my core. Introspection…morbid introspection…has been one of my spiritual gifts. I’m comfortable telling you that I’m messed up, but I’m not quite as comfortable hearing you tell me that I’m messed up.
So why, if I really truly believe that I’m messed up, would I have a difficult time accepting the truth that my sin has consequences upon other people? Asking this question helped me to see that I was actually using the doctrine of depravity deceptively. It was a way for me to have control over the narrative of my depravity. If I make fun of having big ears then it distracts you from saying something that’d really hurt me deeply. Likewise, if I acknowledge my depravity in general I can avoid some of the specifics.
I even found that I was using my battle with depression in this way. Whenever I’d be pressed with dealing with something that I didn’t want to face I’d get very depressed. Why? Because I was comfortable with the narrative of being a depressed person. Depression is muddy. It can even garner a bit of sympathy. Oddly enough depression became a defense mechanism to keep me from dealing with the more uncomfortable parts of my story.
I found some rescue in these words from Martin Luther:
If you are a preacher of mercy, do not preach an imaginary but the true mercy. If the mercy is true, you must therefore bear the true, not an imaginary sin. God does not save those who are only imaginary sinners. Be a sinner, and let your sins be strong (or “Sin boldly”), but let your trust in Christ be stronger, and rejoice in Christ who is the victor over sin, death, and the world….Pray hard for you are quite a sinner.
Really digging into what Luther said here allowed me to be specific about my sin—and to allow others that same specificity. Basically, I gave up the reigns to the narrative of my depravity. And doing this created actual change within me in some of those deep places I wasn’t comfortable going. And I found Jesus there. And he is good.
It is not an imaginary sin which we bear. It’s real. It carries consequences. It truly hurts and harms others. But Christ is bigger. And the more we boldly acknowledge our specific sins the deeper the gospel goes into our hearts. And the deeper the gospel goes into our hearts the more it will ravage our idols. So let us not hide behind a doctrine of depravity that only fictitiously goes to the depths.
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