Learning To Be Important

Can a lowly sinner really have eternal value?

This article follows-up on a piece I wrote reflecting on the parallel between the Christian promise of eternal life and the timeless heathen fantasy of immortality:

The Sin-Sorry Cycle

Eternal life may be incomprehensible. In theory, every Christian believes that God is eternal, and so are the angels. But the idea that we will transcend mortality and not simply exist as ghosts or spirits, but as bodily beings who can have interesting lives in a New Creation is a bit overwhelming. It is our core hope; yet nobody acts like it.

Hope comes in different flavors. There is an anxious hope, and a bold one; a fleeting hope, and a certain one; a guilt-ridden hope, and an arrogant one. Likewise, Christianity supports a wide range of cultural attitudes about the idea of salvation. Our hope in Christ can be so self-flagellating and humble that it dares not assert itself, or it can be so proud that it becomes a matter of egotism and smugness. Where along this spectrum should we stand?

Readers of this publication will know that I write thought experiments. Often, I do thought experiments where I pretend that the Bible is true—that is, not just fiction that we sometimes wish were true. I say “pretend” because I don’t know what other word to use for when you actively use your imagination to act as if a premise is real.

Of all the thought experiments I’ve done on the Bible, what do you suppose the most challenging pretense is? Not miracles or prophecies, but stuff like this:

(1 Peter 2:9) But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession,…

There are several verses along these lines. But even just this one is enough to defy belief. How crazy to think that reflects reality. Can we really absorb this teaching?

I mean, let’s try the thought experiment. Let’s imagine that the author wasn’t just making up some nice-sounding religious nonsense in order to make his audience feel better; presumably because it really sucks to be a Christian (especially at that time). It’s not easy, is it? That’s because we all “understand” that as believers we are actually lesser than everyone else, worse kinds of people, devalued by God, un-blessed, neglected, and possibly even hated by Jesus. I know that’s not official doctrine, but it’s how we feel. How much of this feeling comes naturally from the spirit of repentance and how much is a product of corrupt religious institutions trying to demean us, I can’t say. But this is part of what I call the Sin-Sorry Cycle.

The Sin-Sorry Cycle is a spiritual practice where you, as a believer, continuously fail to live up to God’s standards. These standards combine the 10 Commandments with the teachings of Jesus, where purity is absolute and even the smallest temptations are proof of sin. You try your best and inevitably screw up, tallying up your failures, knowing that God is the inspector of your heart and is no doubt finding faults that you aren’t even conscious of. And this guilt is not taken as a reminder that you are awaiting Christ’s return, and look forward to the perfected bodies that we’ll be granted, but rather that you aren’t really a Christian at all. When you ask for forgiveness, you are being given another chance, tentatively. You are essentially a fraud, however; you may not even be saved from damnation on Judgment Day. In this destructive cycle, “faith” is a feeble hope that, if you’re lucky, Jesus will take pity on you when the time comes, despite you never having lived up to the calling he sent into the world.

When you’re stuck in this spiritual practice, it’s no wonder that the assurances we find in the Bible sound like fiction. We can barely cling to the illusion that God tolerates us, so how could we possibly believe that we are—oh, what did Peter say—a “chosen race”? Why would God ever want us to be in charge of anything? We’re the biggest screw-ups in the universe. Yes, even unrepentent sinners are less guilty! They might do worse sins, but they are also ignorant. They are insulated from the guilt that comes from awareness; they haven’t yet signed the contract that we have, which is to become flawless and sinless beings. It’s only after you agree to be perfect that you can really be condemned for being flawed! This is part of the Sin-Sorry Cycle. I’ve even considered applying the warning Jesus gave those who saw his miracles but still rejected him:

(Luke 10:12-14) I tell you, it will be more bearable on that day for Sodom than for that town. Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the miracles that were performed in you had been performed in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago, sitting in sackcloth and ashes. But it will be more bearable for Tyre and Sidon at the judgment than for you.

I’ve thought of how Christians are double-damned by this teaching: once for being a sinner in ignorance, and once for being a sinner in full knowledge. We have the truth and the Holy Spirit, so it’s worse when we do something wrong. And that’s why I could never picture myself being a prized child of God, whom He delights in, and has big plans for. It’s not fitting.

We think about Christ’s mission as being about some ancient covenant with Moses or Abraham, not us. It couldn’t be about us. There’s no way God genuinely wants to spend an eternity with us, especially those of us in these latter generations, who walk around with smartphones and read blogs on Substack. We’re hardly an afterthought in God’s plans, surely; like cold leftovers, available to eat in desperation, but no longer appetizing. If we got eternal life, we spend it sitting on the sidelines of Heaven, unwelcomed by the “real” Christians who came before us.

Garbage or Master Race?

So the thought experiment fails. But since the goal is to internalize the more glorious teachings about the identity and fate of believers, we have to try again without the Sin-Sorry Cycle. Let’s try to deconstruct it so we can get rid of it, first.

We might think: “What could God possibly find so interesting about us, that He wants to spend even one minute with us, let alone eternity?” We’re told that He “loves” us, but we understand that this to mean some abstract and theoretical love, like those countless human fathers who don’t actually talk to their children, only judging them harshly. Or, we might believe what plenty of theologians and churches have taught, that God loves us in some kind of legal or mathematical way, as if we were merely numbers on the “love” side of a cosmic equation. It’s all very obtuse, not personal.

In this dynamic, it’s insulting to think that we’re important to God’s plans. That would be like comparing Him to somebody who amuses Himself with garbage.

We are garbage, right? Jesus died on the cross for garbage. Isn’t that the narrative?

Hmm, actually that sounds a bit insulting, too.

A cross in a landfill. What kind of person did Jesus spill his blood for?

Of course I’m being facetious, but it’s to highlight the paradox of Christian valuation. On one hand, churches constantly preach that God loves us, but haven’t you noticed that this love is never related to who we are, or even to whom we are becoming as believers? It is a love that persists despite us, not because of us. This is why the concept of predestination is so difficult for most Christians. It teaches that God already valued us individually before the world was even created. If we think it through, this means the world was created in order to create us, so that He could win us. We are the centerpiece of His Creation; and when I say “we”, I mean the collective group of the elect, within the context of Christ’s mission. Jesus Christ is the more obvious centerpiece, the figurehead, the pinnacle of Creation and designer. But at the same time, we are said to be his “body”, and that sounds pretty important. What good is a person without a body? And in the other metaphor, we are his “bride”, which in biblical thought means we become “one flesh” when united, and are elevated far beyond our natural position without him. The bride is supposed to be a source of joy for a man until one of them dies; but since neither we nor he will ever die, it implies that we will be a source of joy eternally for Christ, which is the ultimate purpose of Creation. So, logically, this also means everything in Creation is boils down to a process of shaping the right kind of bride to spend eternity with. And we’re it.

How can we be garbage, and yet be the focal point of Christ’s mission?

Transformation

Jesus’ first miracle was turning water into wine. He multiplied the value of something ordinary into something precious. There was nothing special about that water. And so I get that this doubles as a metaphor for converting sinners into saints, and reminds us to not think of ourselves as inherently valuable. Of course we would be nothing without Christ’s intervention into our lives. But still, his intervention is planned out, and the Father is the one who dictates who, where, and when this intervention happens in order to fit a scheme that He created before the Universe was made. So it’s not an accident, either. There is something important about the selection. Even in this example of the water and wine, the circumstances were arranged in order to show the power of Christ in that particular way. The wedding, the invitation, the lack of wine, the water existing there in barrels, Mary being concerned about it—it was all arranged by the Father. Therefore, while the water was insignificant and mundane in some sense, it was also predestined to be there for that very purpose, to be transformed. And once it was transformed, it was commended and became a source of joy; but more importantly, it reflected the virtue of Christ. So we too are mundane by nature, and yet predestined to reflect Christ’s virtue, and thereby be glorified.

In my own personal testimony, which I have shared several times, God convicted my soul in order to shatter my supposed self-righteousness, and forced me to abandon the idea of earned worthiness. He gave me a preview of the black, hopeless emptiness of damnation, and would not allow me to recover from that terror until I understood my predicament. I saw what it meant to be judged. It was only when I finally admitted defeat and accepted that I can do nothing good on my own, but had to fully rely on Christ’s mercy alone, that I was relieved of that conviction. Ever since then, I have not dared to think that I have any independent or inherent value to God. But yet, slowly, with the smallest steps, I have found the other side of that coin: that I must have dependent value.

In other words, if we are the Body of Christ, then he must not be fully glorified without us. So we must be humbled, but then we must also be lifted up. It is not good for us to act as though we are worthless within Christ. That would be the insult to him. How dare we say that the work of Christ is garbage?

Jesus’ purpose as the Messiah was clear: to overthrow the corrupt spiritual forces above, to defeat the power of sin, and to collect us and safeguard us. It was not for us to haphazardly scramble after him. He sought us, we did not seek him. Moreover, Jesus says himself that he came to do the will of the Father, and that there were only certain few who would be chosen out of the many, according to the Father’s will. And this brings us back to the idea that the Universe exists to create the mystery of unity between Creation and Creator; the redemption of the vulgar; the glorification of the elect; the importance of the chosen.

Chosen Race

The Apostle Peter says that we are a “chosen race”. What does that mean? The Greek word here is genos.¹

In some sense we are (or rather, become) a different breed of human from those who are unbelievers. Not literally, as if talking about DNA or blood, but spiritually, as belonging to a family that is heavenly, not earthly. We join the divine family.

Just think about how weird it would make you feel, to know that you belong to a race that is foreign to the rest of mankind. You would look at other human beings and think of how fortunate you are, and how unfortuate they are, if they don’t manage to join your family. The Gospel is the method to spread and grow this family. But as Jesus himself said, many are called, but few are chosen (Matthew 22:14). This means that those who are chosen (by God) are precious and rare. There must be something about us that causes God to choose us, to be part of this “chosen race”. Perhaps it is like a man who sees a lonely woman, and in her recognizes the beauty and potential that she will only experience if they are together. That potential is nothing unless it is unlocked by the transformation, but once it is unlocked, it brings forth abundantly.

Therefore, should we feel like an alien species among other humans? Well, “race” is less extreme than “species”, for one. But I will use the term “Master Race” deliberately here, to provoke you into thinking more seriously about the implications. Racial supremacy that is based on skin color or genetics is ungodly and evil, but there is a type of racial supremacy in Christianity, if we are indeed a chosen race (genos), in whatever sense. Is it wrong to think of ourselves as superior, so long as we remember that our superiority is only in Christ, and through him? Is it wrong for a wife to think she is better than the women who were rejected by her husband? Would she be correct in thinking she is important—not as a woman independent of her husband, but as his property?

Sometimes I do feel like I must belong to a different race. When they boast about fornicating and drinking, and expect me to chime in, they become suspicious of me when I’m silent. Many have suspected me of being a homosexual for this reason, since I was a teenager already. They can’t comprehend that an eligible bachelor like myself could be content with celibacy and sobriety, and feel sorry for me. I’ve received hundreds of pieces of advice on how to meet women and “hook up” over the years, and my disinterest raises alarms. I’ve been invited to my share of social drinking events, and turned them all down. The world is always inviting us to join its ways, and yet I have no desire to be one of them. And this is not new:

(1 Peter 4:3-6) For your previous lifestyle was sufficient for you to do what the non-Christians desire. You lived then in debauchery, evil desires, drunkenness, carousing, drinking bouts, and wanton idolatries. So they are astonished when you do not rush with them into the same flood of wickedness, and they vilify you.

They will face a reckoning before Jesus Christ who stands ready to judge the living and the dead. Now, it was for this very purpose that the gospel was preached to those who are presently dead, so that although they were judged in the flesh by human standards, they may live spiritually by God’s standards.

Even as they pity me, because they think I am too cowardly to participate in their degeneracy, I pity them as a lesser race, and hope for them to escape it. I am looked down on by everybody, and yet I look down on them. And if they notice this, they hate me. But I suspect this pattern is as old as Christianity itself, and so I only feel more welcomed into the family I was selected for.

Conclusion of this part

I no longer practice the Sin-Sorry Cycle, so my hope is confident. And because of this, I encounter life with confidence, not fearing what anyone thinks of me. And because I know to Whom I belong, I have boldness in rejecting the inferior invitations of life. My family is better than theirs, and our ways are better than theirs. There is no apology necessary to the world.

Likewise, I do not worry about my faults much anymore. I know that they exist, and of course I ask for God’s forgiveness and mercy several times a day, with deep gratitude for His tolerance of me. But I do not think about it in an anxious way, as if to suspect that God might become fed up with me and cut me off. He has planned my whole journey, not just my first steps. Rather, I remember the promises and assurances that are written, and that God has not wasted His time with garbage, or transformed me into something He hates. I am His work, and I reflect something glorious. Our adoption was planned from the beginning, so He will not hate us now, just because we are not yet transformed fully.

In the next part of this series, I want to focus specifically on the trajectory of the believer within the Kingdom of God, to focus on the journey and growth of a believer. I had intended this article to cover it, but in writing it I found it necessary to first dispense with the main obstacle to the whole discussion, which is guilt and neurosis.

Natural service (Winter Christian #2)

1. Although I’m not an educated in Greek, it seems to me that word for “race” is different from what might be translated “ethnicity” (Greek: ethnos) or a “population” (Greek: laos), or even the “public” (Greek: demos). Race/Genos is often used to refer to an actual species, or bloodline.