Transfiguration Sunday, 2022

 Each of the synoptic gospels records Jesus’s experience of transfiguration on the mountain with Peter, James, and John. Each has a different spin on the experience. Mark’s gospel indicates it was for the benefit of the three disciples. Luke’s gospel (this year’s lectionary gospel) indicates the experience was for Jesus’s benefit. Of course, the experience was for all involved, Jesus and the three disciples … and us.

Jesus had taken the disciples north of the Sea of Galilee into the region of Caesarea Philippi so that he might teach them without the distraction of the ever-present crowds. From there, he journeyed to Jerusalem, knowing what would happen to him there. It was at Caesarea Philippi that the disciples, for the first time, acknowledged to Jesus that they believed he was the messiah. Affirming their understanding, he began to teach them about what he would experience in Jerusalem at the Passover celebration: suffering, rejection, death, and resurrection. Of course, they could not understand, much less embrace, what he was teaching them. What he described was outside the realm of their understanding of the messiah. In their minds, following the world’s way of thinking, the messiah would be a warrior king like David, defeating their enemies and reestablishing the nation as a dominant world power. Naturally, they resisted what he was teaching them.

“About eight days after these sayings” at Caesarea Philippi (Luke 9:28), Jesus took Peter, James, and John with him to a mountain to pray. There, on that mountain retreat, Jesus was transfigured before the three disciples. “And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white” (Luke 9:29). They saw Jesus fully immersed in the glory of the spiritual realm. It was as though the veil that separates the physical and spiritual realms was pulled aside so that they could see the reality of the spiritual realm that infuses the physical. They saw Moses and Elijah with Jesus, talking with him.  

Luke alone identified what Moses and Elijah were discussing with Jesus. “They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem” (Luke 9:31). They were talking with him about his death. The experience was for Jesus’s benefit. Moses and Elijah were there to support Jesus as he grappled with the death that awaited him in Jerusalem. Their presence is a metaphor for the Hebrew Scriptures, commonly known as the Law and the Prophets. Moses represented the Law; Elijah, the prophets. The teaching of scripture validated Jesus’s understanding of the suffering he faced. In addition, the spiritual realm in whose light he was bathed validated his understanding. The ways of God were the ways of self-giving love, the ways of the servant. In his death, as in his ministry, Jesus went against the thinking of the world, challenging the ways of the world. He rejected us-them thinking that used power over others for personal benefit. He embraced the servant ways of God. As he set his face toward Jerusalem (Luke 9:51), he drew strength from these two resources — the teachings of scripture, his personal relationship with God as Father. He would draw on them again when he prayed in Gethsemane just before his arrest.

The transfiguration experience was not just for Jesus. It was also for the three disciples. A cloud overshadowed them and a voice spoke to them from the cloud. The cloud was a metaphor for God. God spoke to them, affirming their understanding that Jesus was indeed the messiah. “This is my Son, my Chosen” (Luke 9:35). The words are from the psalm used in the coronation of a new king, Psalm 2. Then the voice commanded them to listen to what Jesus was teaching them about his death. “Listen to him!” (Luke 9:35). The same two resources Jesus drew on for strength — scripture, a personal experience of God through prayer — called them to embrace the different way of thinking Jesus was teaching them.

The transfiguration experience is for our benefit, as well. It calls us to move beyond the way the world trained us to think: us-them, better than-less than, power over the other for personal benefit at the other’s expense. It calls us to learn from Jesus the grace-based, servant ways of God. It calls us to quit resisting what Jesus taught. The transfiguration experience reminds us that the Spirit guides our understanding of the scriptures so that we see in them the ways of God that Jesus taught. It reminds us to cultivate, through prayer, our own personal experience of God and of the Spirit’s presence in our lives. The transfiguration experience calls us to prayerfully seek God with an open, teachable spirit rather than stubbornly holding to the way the world trained us to think and live. Just as Jesus grappled with his impending death, the transfiguration experience calls us to grapple with our own death — death to our ego-centric, merit-oriented self that the world created. The transfiguration calls us to find our true identity in Christ as we embrace the servant ways of God he taught.

The Good Ole Days

 Every congregation that is experiencing decline can, and generally does, talk about the good ole days. The good ole days – back when … back when things were different, not like they are now … back when there were more people, especially more children and youth, in the church … back when there were more people in the pews … back when things were good. These congregations spend much of their energy looking back at what was, longing for what was back then, and wishing things were like they were back then. Any vision they might muster is always in terms of what it was like back then, in the good ole days.

Holding onto the memory of the good ole days provides a bit of comfort in the face of what is. It provides a sense of value for who they (we) are today based on who they were back then. Holding onto the memory of what was is, at best, a topical salve that masks the pain of the symptom, but doesn’t address the underlying sickness.

By masking the pain, holding onto the memory of the good ole days prevents healing. It prevents them (us) from dealing realistically with what is. It keeps them from doing the evaluating, learning, and adapting that are necessary if things are ever going to be different from what they are now. Holding onto the memory of what was blinds them (us) to God’s presence and God’s work in what is. It acts as though God was at work back then, but not now. Consequently, holding onto the memory of the good ole days blocks any openness to what God wants to do in and through them in the current situation. Ultimately, it keeps them from changing, thereby guaranteeing that things will never be any different than what they are now. Having turned their back on what God wants to do now, the only thing the future holds is continuing decline. The decline will continue until the congregation ages out and dies.  

“Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:18-19)

 

Super Bowl Sunday

Super Bowl LVI will draw the largest TV audience of any event this year. The game between the Los Angeles Rams and the Cincinnati Bengals will hold the attention of the vast majority of this nation for much of the evening. Fans that have no interest in either team will choose sides and yell with joy over with the success or groan at the failure of their chosen team. They will gather in homes for Super Bowl parties, something that has become a tradition in our culture. Advertisers have spent millions of dollars developing and running creative ads that will catch our attention and generate conversations as an alternative narrative to the game itself.

All the time, energy, and money we invest in this event leaves me wondering: what about this event creates such interest? (Would the word obsession be a better term than interest?)

It seems to me the annual Super Bowl embodies the values of our nation. We are doing more than watching a game. We are celebrating our nation’s values.

Looking at our nation through the eyes of the Super Bowl, it seems to me we as a nation value . . .

·        Competition. We are passionate about anything that pits us against them. Us-them thinking and relating is deeply embedded in our culture. It goes far beyond the game of football or sports. This kind of us-them thinking plays a huge role in our sense of who we are.

·        Winning. We don’t like to lose. We want to be the champion, #1, second to no one. We tie our sense of value to being at the top of whatever hierarchy we are in. As a result, anything other than winning means we have failed. When we fail, we look for someone to blame. (Coaches will lose their jobs, players will be traded based on this season’s win/loss record.)

·        Power. In order to win, we have to be better than the other. We have to use our power to defeat them. We use our power over, down against them so that we can win. We over-power them. Our winning comes at their expense.

·        Self-reliance. Our success is tied to our effort, our discipline, our level of commitment.

·        Winners. Losers have no value or place in our culture.

·        Wealth and affluence. We reward those who are the strongest, the fastest, the best at their position, the smartest, the most successful. They are the highest paid because we value winning.

·        Keeping score. Keeping score is the way we know who wins.

It strikes me that all of these values have to do with the ego. These values suggest we are seeking to establish a sense of identity based on something outside of ourselves. We are seeking to fill an inner void. We are seeking to prop up a fragile sense of self. (Notice how we piggy back on the Super Bowl champion as though we ourselves had won the championship?) These values suggest we are worshipping at the altar of the false god of our own ego.

 As I reflect on these values, I call to mind the teachings of Jesus.

·        If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their own life? (Mark 8:34-36).

·        Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all (Mark 9:35).

·        You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many (Mark 10:41-45).

Jesus taught an alternative way of thinking that produced a different way of thinking. Rather than living out of an ego-based identity, he taught his followers to die to that sense of self — “let them deny themselves.” His followers reject the hierarchal, us-them ways of the world — “take up their cross.” Rejecting the way the world measures greatness, the standard they use to determine greatness is a servant spirit. Rather than using their power over others for their own benefit, they use power to serve, addressing the needs of others, often at great cost to themselves. 

It seems to me that Super Bowl Sunday offers us an opportunity to reflect and reevaluate if we have ears to hear and eyes to see. 

What's Missing

In every congregation that is experiencing decline, in every denomination that is experiencing decline, one key element is missing. This missing element is a major factor in the decline. It is a barrier to growth and, at the same time, prevents us from doing the work that is necessary to address the decline.

This missing element is spiritual formation.

The transformation of our hearts and minds into the likeness of Christ — spiritual formation — is the heart of the spiritual journey. It is the essence of what it means to be a follower of Jesus — discipleship. It is Paul’s definition of salvation as presented in his letter to the Romans.

It seems to me most churches have a different definition of salvation. Salvation, in these churches, is accepting Jesus as my savior so I can go to heaven when I die. (I addressed the bankruptcy of this theology in last week’s blog “A Fatal Flaw.”) In the churches built upon this theology, spiritual formation a secondary focus. It is an elective rather than the core curriculum required of all. It is not even offered in some of these congregations. Evangelism — getting people “saved” — is the central focus of these churches. In these churches, Bible study is generally substituted for spiritual formation. Rather than leading to “the renewing of the mind” (Romans 12:2) and the mind of Christ (2 Corinthians 2:16), the study is used to reinforce how we already think and what we already believe. It does not lead to spiritual growth. This heaven-oriented theology produces church members, many of whom can quote scripture to validate what they believe. It does not produce any significant change of heart and mind. It often produces a religious version of the person they were before they “accepted Jesus as my savior.”

Spiritual formation deals with the heart. It shifts the focus from externals — right belief, right behavior (morals, church involvement), right worship — to the interior dimension of our lives. It addresses the attitudes that shape how we treat others and the underlying, self-serving spirit that fuels those attitudes. Spiritual formation leads us to deal with those things in ourselves that we don’t see and don’t want to see — what is called the shadow. It addresses our deep-seated emotional wounds. It shines the healing light of Christ on our “issues” that are the faces of those wounds. It calls out the old messages that keep those issues alive in our hearts. It calls us beyond the unhealthy relational patterns we use to reduce the anxiety created by those issues.

Spiritual formation results in a transformation of our hearts and minds. How we think along with what we think is transformed. Our hearts are cleansed along with the attitudes that reside in our hearts. A servant spirit displaces our inherent self-serving, what’s-in-it-for-me spirit. The transformation that grows out of this inner work produces the character of Christ in us. We love as Jesus loved. We love those whom Jesus loved.

Without this kind of inner, transformative work, we continue to live out of our ego-centric, constructed self and its self-serving, what’s-in-it-for-me spirit. We avoid any honest look at ourselves or our lives. Blind to our shadow, we project what is in our shadow onto others. We judge, criticize, and blame. We remain stuck in us-them, black-and-white, right-and-wrong thinking.

Spiritual formation is what is missing in every church that is experiencing decline. Apart from it, the thinking and attitudes of our ego-centric, constructed selves permeate our churches. We live out of an unrecognized what’s-in-it-for-me spirit that resists change, clinging to what is comfortable and familiar. We live out of us-them thinking that judges and excludes those not like us. And to complicate matters, we cannot do the kind of self-evaluation that helps us see the things we do that contribute to the decline.

P.S. – Spiritual formation questions: How am I more like Christ today than I was a year ago? How have I grown in Christ this past year? What is the Spirit addressing in my life right now? What am I doing — what spiritual practices do I regularly engage in — that nurtures my growth in Christ?

 

A Fatal Flaw

 

The decline of the American Church has been a source of concern and study for decades — well over half of my professional career. Think tanks such as the Barna group have studied and reported it. Leaders, consultants, scholars, and megachurch pastors have offered their thinking as to what is causing it. Having diagnosed the cause of the symptoms, they offer prescriptions—suggestions for how to address the problem and reverse the decline. Megachurches offer annual “how to” workshops—a registration fee is required, of course. Conferences and dioceses promote new programs built around their proposed solutions, dedicating new money for and hiring new staff to lead this “key to reversing the decline.” Consultants and coaches are readily available to help pastors and congregations—again, for a fee

In spite of all the study, thinking, emphasis, effort, and money, most congregations are still experiencing decline. Across the board, the institutional church in America continues to decline.

In my last blog, I suggested an underlying, unidentified cause for the decline is the unwillingness of congregations to change. Congregations are emotional-relational systems that inherently resist change. They are made up of individuals who inherently resist anything that disrupts the comfort of their status quo. That unwillingness to change sabotages any effort to address what is contributing to the decline.

In addition to this unwillingness to change, a fatal flaw exists at the core of the American Church. This flaw fuels the decline and guarantees the death of the American institutional church.

This fatal flaw is located in its theology. It resides in the kind of thinking that lies at the heart of its institutional life. This theology, this thinking is reinforced every time the congregation gathers—in worship, in Bible study, in committee meetings, in mission groups. It is the congregation’s lifeblood.

This theology appeals to the ego.

This theology emphasizes right belief, right behavior, and right worship. It fosters either/or, black-and-white, right-and-wrong thinking. Such thinking inevitably produces us-them distinctions. Those who do not embrace our thinking or mimic our behavior (ethics) or adhere to our way of worship are viewed as “other.” They are viewed with suspicion and fear. They are excluded as we surround ourselves with those like us. Segregation is our pattern of relating. (This pattern explains why there are so many different denominations as well as so many different “independent” and Bible churches.)

This way of thinking and functioning appeals to the ego. It reinforces the sense that “I’m right” and "You’re wrong.” It subtly allows us to feel “better than” and superior to those other people. We can reassure ourselves knowing we are right, that we are not like those other people.

I use the word “fatal” to describe this way of thinking and functioning for two fundamental reasons.

First, this way of thinking and functioning—living out of this theology— is based on sameness. We segregate ourselves from those who are not like us and who do not think like us. We surround ourselves with those who are like us and think like us. Such relationships are fragile. This sameness-orientation sets the stage for conflict. A difference of opinion about some issue is inevitable. Polarization around that difference of opinion and that issue then develops, often leading to division. Once a split takes place, we once again associate with those who think like us and segregate ourselves from those who don’t. Our like-us, sameness orientation sets the stage for yet another conflict in the future over yet another difference of opinion that will inevitably surface. This pattern is ultimately self-destructive. As Jesus said, “If a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand” (Mark 3:25). The impending division of The UMC is an example of this pattern. It is a pattern that has been played out in numerous other denominations, as well.

This sameness-orientation is ego driven. It is the way of the world. It leads to death.

A second and primary reason this ego-centered theology is fatal is it is not the way of Jesus and the kingdom.

Jesus’s pattern was self-emptying, not self exalting. “Although he was in the form of God, (he) did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on the cross” (Philippians 2:6-8). The Apostle Paul called his readers, as the followers of Jesus, to take on the mind of Christ, that is, this self-emptying pattern (Philippians 2:5). Living out of this self-emptying pattern is the opposite of ego-centric living.

Jesus himself taught that to be his follower was to die to the ego-centric self. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Mark 8:34). To deny self is to die to the ego-centric self, the self the world told us we had to be if we wanted to be accepted and valued. The cross was the method of execution the Romans reserved for insurrectionists—those who challenged their authority and their way of life. To take up our cross is to choose to live out of step with the ego-driven ways of the world. It is to die to the ego-centric self the world told me to be. It is to tie my identity to Christ rather than to the standards the world uses to define success—power, achievement, wealth, possessions.

Jesus’s way is the way of the servant. “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:42-25). The way of the Gentiles, i.e., the way of the world, is an ego-driven way. It values power and position, status and standing, affluence and wealth. It fosters competition with others as we compare ourselves — our power and position, status and standing, affluence and wealth — to them. Being a servant is not possible until we die to the ego-centric way of the world and the ego-centric identity we created using its values. As long as we are concerned about our status and standing, our power and position, our affluence and resources, we cannot embrace the posture and position of a servant. As long as we live out of this ego-driven thinking, we cannot live out of a servant spirit.

A theology that appeals to and nurtures the ego is the opposite of the mind of Christ. As such, it cannot produce the transformation of heart and mind that are fundamental to being a disciple. It cannot produce a self-giving, servant spirit marked by humility. It can only duplicate the ways of the world, producing what the world produces —polarization, division, and self-destruction.

A theology that appeals to and nurtures the ego is the fatal flaw that will ultimately destroy the institutional church of America. Its poison is evident in the polarization, division, and decline that we are witnessing with our own eyes.

 

The Underlying Cause of Church Decline

 It is an alarming reality: the Church is dying! At least, that’s what some people say. But that fact is not true. The Church is not dying and will not die. What is true is the institutional church in America is dying. This expression of the Church is in decline — in numbers (membership, attendance) and in influence — and has been since the middle of the last century. The 1950’s were the heyday of the institutional church in the U.S. Since that time, the statistical records of every denomination and of most congregations reflect decline.

In every congregation I served in Methodist life, with one exception, two issues dominated the thinking of the leadership: (1) how to reverse the decline — that is, how to grow — and (2) how to stay afloat financially in the midst of the decline. Those same two issues dominated the thinking of the bishops, cabinet, and leadership of the Conference in which I was a member for nearly thirty years. A pastor’s effectiveness in the Conference was judged by one criterion: did the church grow numerically under his/her leadership.

The inescapable reality of decline leads to an obvious question: why? Why is the church dying? The assumption is if we can answer the question “why?”, then we can address the causes and reverse the decline.

Causes coupled with suggested remedies abound: a lack of hospitality — not knowing how to welcome the nonmember; a lack of passionate, uplifting worship that connects us with God; a lack of life-transforming discipleship; a lack of community-engaging, transformative mission; a lack of generosity as a way of life. (These five causes are identified in Robert Schnase’s Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations. The book has been used throughout The United Methodist Church in an effort to address the growing decline.)

Each of these five causes is a factor contributing to the decline that congregations are experiencing. In my mind, however, there is another factor — one that sabotages any effort to address any of these other five. This sabotaging factor has to do with purpose.

Most congregations do not function out of a clear, compelling sense of purpose that shapes their identity. Without a clearly stated, compelling sense of purpose, the unstated purpose that governs the congregation is the comfort and enjoyment of the members, i.e., tradition. This unstated purpose produces an unwillingness to change.

“We’ve never done it that way before” is the mantra of a dying church.

This unwillingness to change overrides our concern about the decline. We are concerned about the decline, afraid that we are dying. What we are currently doing has not reversed the decline. In fact, what we are currently doing — and have always done — contributes to the decline. Continuing to do what we are currently doing can only produce what it is now producing, which is decline. Clearly, if we want a different outcome, we have to do something different. We have to change.

Given the choice between changing and declining, most congregations unconsciously choose to continue the decline — while bemoaning it every step of the way.

These congregations are good at avoiding this underlying reality. They deceive themselves. They talk about wanting to grow while resisting the very things that are needed for growth to occur. They believe the solution is the right pastor — particularly a younger pastor who would attract younger people. This focus on “the right pastor” allows them to avoid looking at themselves, identifying what they are contributing to the decline, and making the necessary changes.  

The unwillingness to change is a (the?) underlying factor in the decline of the institutional church today.

Making Peace with Being Human

It is something we all deal with – this thing of being human. And it is something we cannot escape. We’re stuck with being human. We don’t have any other option. The only choice we have is in how we deal with our humanness.

Being human is a mixed bag.

Some parts of our humanness are amazing: the ability to think, to learn, to grow — the ability to choose and, thereby, partially shape our own destiny — the ability to plan, design, create, and produce — the capacity to experience and appreciate the beauty of creation in all its diversity — the amazing design of our physical bodies — the uniqueness of our individual personalities — the richness of living in meaningful relationship with another, knowing and being known — the joy of love and loving — the capacity to participate in the depths of the spiritual realm.

Certainly, we are more than just another animal. We are indeed created in the image of God. We have the capacity to live in relationship with God, participate in God’s quality of life, and possess God’s character of self-giving love as our own. God’s fingerprints are on every part of who we are. As the psalmist wrote, we are “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14).

Other parts of our humanness are not so wonderful.

Being human always involves being in process. We are never fully grown or mature. Some part of us will always be incomplete — not yet fully developed — immature. These still-in-process places in our lives are where our knowledge and abilities are not adequate. As a result, what we can do is not good enough. It doesn’t measure up. We can’t get it right. We fail — while others get it right and succeed!

Being human means living with limitations. We are not all powerful or all knowing, i.e., God. All of our energies — physical, emotional, intellectual, spiritual — are limited. We do not have an unlimited amount of love or patience or compassion or strength or energy or knowledge. These limitations translate into needs — physical needs, emotional needs, relational needs, spiritual needs. Life is an on-going process of getting our needs met. Even when our needs are met and we are satisfied, the sense of contentment is fleeting. The needs return and have to be addressed again.

Being human involves living in a world full of challenge. Life involves difficulty, struggle, and pain. When the challenges of life bump up against those still-in-process, not-yet-adequate places in our lives, we can feel overwhelmed.

Being human means having relationships that are less than what we want — relationships in which the other fails us and we fail them — relationships laced with conflict or with a lack of honesty (pretense) and emotional distance in an effort to avoid the conflict — relationships that cause us and others pain — relationships that fail — relationships that end, leaving us to live with grief.

How do we deal with these not-so-wonderful aspects of being human?

Most of us struggle with them. We frequently fight them. Some of us go so far as to hate them. Certainly, all of us have known the desire to escape them. We long for life free from struggle and pain — for life where our needs are met, we are content, and we live in peace — for relationships where we feel safe and loved. We long for the life we knew in the Garden before . . . well, before we knew what we know now . . . when we still lived with the innocence of young children before their innocence is lost. We long for Eden.

Beneath our struggle are feelings of guilt and shame compounded by the fear of condemnation and judgement. These feelings are the product of viewing the still-in-process, not-yet-adequate aspects of our lives through the lens of merit-based thinking.

How do we make peace with being human, particularly with these not-so-wonderful aspects of being human?

One would think the Church would help us answer these questions. Sadly, in my thinking, the Church has too often added to our struggle.

The Church has historically dealt with our humanness through the lens of sin. Theologians and church leaders of all stripes are quick to quote the Apostle Paul, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).

The Church’s obsession (can I use that word?) with sin reinforces our feelings of guilt and shame, the fear of condemnation and judgment. The condemnation of sin fuels our resolve to try harder, to do better, to get it right next time. Our resolve is genuine, but our ability to “do the good I want” (Romans 7:19) falls short. We inevitably fail . . . yet again. As Paul said, “I can will what is right, but I cannot do it” (Romans 7:18).

Repeated failure to “do the good I want” produces a variety of outcomes — none of them healthy or beneficial. Some of us get trapped in the life-depleting cycle of confession and repentance, resolve, trying harder to do better, failing yet again, leading back to confession and repentance that starts the cycle all over again. Some of us give up, resigning ourselves to the mediocrity of “as best I can.” Our spiritual lives become little more than involvement in the life of the institutional church. Others of us punish ourselves with self-condemnation, shame, self-hate, and depression. We live spiritually defeated lives devoid of joy and peace. Others of us go the opposite direction. We ignore sin. We don’t talk about sin. We avoid the concept. In our personal lives, this avoidance leads us to focus on the right things we do — beliefs, church involvement, moral living, etc. We avoid dealing with any sense of personal failure or wrongdoing. This avoidance of personal wrongdoing inevitably leads us to focus on what others do wrong — how they fail to measure up. We criticize and judge. We select someone or some group to be the target of our anger — a scapegoat. (Our anger at the scapegoat is the anger we feel towards ourselves but have disowned, pushing it down into the subconscious.) Our condemnation of the other feeds our sense of being better than them. We live with the certainty that we are “right” and okay just the way we are. We are blind to the condition of our heart.

The gospel Jesus entrusted to the Church helps us deal with our sin differently. It also helps us make peace with being human. When the Church proclaims the gospel rather than our sin, it helps us with our struggle with being human.

The heart of the good news is how God deals with our sin. God deals with our sin with grace and forgiveness. God does not react to our sin with condemnation or allow it to be a barrier in his relationship with us. God relates to us out of God’s character of steadfast, faithful love — a love that never wavers, a love that never gives up on us or abandons us. Living out of this steadfast, faithful love, God reaches out to us in our sin. Through the incarnation in Jesus and the indwelling presence of the Spirit, God walks alongside us, helping us deal with our sin and move beyond it.

God’s grace and forgiveness set us free from the fear of condemnation and judgment. It cleanses our hearts of guilt and shame. Trusting God’s grace and forgiveness, we can honestly face how we fail so we can learn from it. Our sin and failure become occasions for learning and growth as the Spirit leads us to recognize the deep-seated issues that give birth to the wrongdoing. The experience of sin and failure is redeemed. Transformation and cleansing take place on a deep level. As a result, we move beyond our sin.

The gospel also helps us make peace with being human.

Our sin does not lie in being human. We are human with all of its not-so-wonderful, still-in-process, not-yet-adequate aspects. In addition, we are sinful. The two, however, are not the same thing. The Church’s preoccupation with sin often leads us to confuse the two. Paul’s use of the term flesh — or rather, our interpretation of his term — also contributes to this misconception.

Our humanness is what it means to be human as described above. Our Sin (with a capital S) is a spiritual condition that controls our lives and impacts our relationship with God. Paul described this condition as being held “captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members (Romans 7:23). Sin (with a capital S) produces sins (lower s, plural). Sin is the disease; sins are the symptoms. Sin is the spiritual condition; sins are behavior produced by that condition. See again Paul’s description in Romans 7:14-25.

As long as we view our humanness as sinful, we cannot make peace with being human. We fight against our basic human nature. We learn to hate it rather than accepting it as normal. We never learn how to honor our humanness or live within its limitations. We get stuck in our struggle, never making progress with either our humanness or our sin nature.

The gospel teaches us to view our humanness through the lens of grace rather than the merit-based thinking that is our default. Grace allows us to embrace our still-in-process, not-yet-perfect nature without reverting back into guilt and shame or into fear of condemnation and judgment or into self-condemnation and self-hate. Grace teaches us to focus on learning and growing as we bump up against the still-in-process places of our lives. Grace allows us to embrace our failures as learning opportunities that teach us something we could not learn any other way. Grace teaches us to graciously receive what others have to give when dealing with our needs. Grace teaches us to live in glad dependency upon the Spirit in those times when we are inadequate and incapable of measuring up. Grace teaches us to accept our limitations, allowing us to practice good self-care. Grace teaches us to make peace with being human.

Only when we make peace with being human will we be able to live fully into who God created us to be.