Original Sin in the New York Times

I point out in my book How to Be a Sinner that “the public square” — as testified in social media and OpEd pages — is liable to surprise us with what we might find there, when it comes to the themes we’re talking about here. Over the past five years we can find an increasing number of articles, opinion pieces, and reflections on subjects like humility, shame, and awareness of sin/fault, and what’s even more remarkable is that these are getting good press. We are being invited to consider the benefits, to ourselves and to society, of recognizing our fallenness.

The most recent example I’ve seen, in yesterday’s New York Times, is a stunner. In an essay called “What’s So Good about Original Sin” the philosophy professor Crispin Sartwell points out how, perhaps counter-intuitively, an awareness of our own sinfulness can produce a heightened compassion and a liberating humility.

My first thought is, I have to send this guy my book, because we’re thinking along some very similar lines. There are of course differences too. One of these is that “original sin” is a sticky wicket; there are different ways to conceive that concept, and some of them are wrong and even harmful. The idea that we are born guilty of sin, for example, or totally depraved, is quite incorrect and misleading—not that Sartwell subscribes to these. In fact, he is promoting a “secularized” concept of original sin. And there I would say, I’ll happily affirm whatever it takes to bring people to the next step, realizing our brokenness, our need for forgiveness and for forgiving each other, and perhaps down the line, realizing the mercy of the loving God. But one step at a time.

I’ll leave you with the closing lines from his essay, and urge you to read the whole thing.

The doctrine of original sin — in religious or secular versions — is an expression of humility, an expression of a resolution to face our own imperfections. In undertaking any such act there is risk. To allow the self-scrutiny required in this act to turn to self-loathing would be debilitating. But a secularized doctrine of original sin, a chastened self-regard, doesn’t entail consigning ourselves to the flames. There is much to affirm in our damaged selves and in our damaged lives, even a sort of dignity and beauty we share in our imperfect awareness of our own imperfection, and our halting attempts to face it, and ourselves.

The Cross: Limitless Love for the Sinner

Today many of us celebrate our “Good Friday” — our “Great and Holy Friday.” It is a day for silent reverence of Christ who died on the cross. All input, and output—except the scripture we hear and the hymns we sing during many hours in the church—are today brought to a minimum. So it’s strange that someone like me, who is so slow at social media (and at updating this blog) finds himself posting on this day.

But this day is the embodiment of one of our main themes here, at “How to Be a Sinner:” the limitless compassion of God. “As far as the East is from the West, …as far as the Heavens are from the Earth,” we are told (in Ps 103), so far he distances us from our failings. Thinking of the spans of Heaven-Earth, East-West—we have drawn the greatest cross imaginable.

The one who creates the heavens and the earth, the east and the west, is crucified among them, standing between us—his beloved—and everything that distorts our true being.

 

As if this cosmic dimension of the cross isn’t enough, the point — that God is merciful and loving — is driven home today by how Christ insists on saving the very people who insist on killing him.

It is true that, in its outrage at how the Temple priests plotted Christ’s death, some of our Holy Week hymnography vilifies “the Jews.” It is entirely appropriate, in our day and age, to be alarmed at this antisemitic phrasing, and to consider how to redress it. Yet in another mode of hymnographic wisdom, we sing about the exact opposite: about how Christ begs God to forgive those who seek his death. That, after all, is what the gospels record him as doing.

In one beautiful Holy Friday hymn we take note how Christ actively prohibits the condemnation of those who sent him to his death:

When You ascended the Cross, Lord,
fear and trembling fell upon creation.
Yet You forbade the earth to swallow up those who crucified You,
and You commanded hell to send up its captives
for the regeneration of mortals.
Judge of the living and the dead,
You have come to grant life, not death.
O Lover of mankind, glory to You!

This is what Christ is about, and therefore what God is about: not condemnation but forgiveness, not death but life. And this is because he is about love, not hate. And he proves this with the ultimate sacrifice: submitting himself to death at the hands of his cherished, beloved human beings. And loving them into heaven.

These are good things to remember, when we ourselves feel that we are beyond forgiveness. We most emphatically are not, given who God is, as he shows us today with his arms stretched out in the widest embrace imaginable.