is “sin” an operative concept in your theology?
A lot of progressive christians have either explicitly or at least functionally removed a lot of sin language from their vocabulary, theology, and liturgy. Some christians have rarely been in spaces that have a heavy emphasis on “sin.” And others of us have never not had a heavy emphasis on it.
I recently worked at a church that had a time of confession every Sunday but very rarely, if ever, used the word sin. I understood that as coming from a desire to deemphasize personal confession and rather recover an otherwise lost focus on corporate confession and lament of communal realities such as gun culture or war. I also understood it as a desire to be gentle towards folks who came from a heavy total depravity background.
But I never thought of it as coming from a place of not believing that sin was a helpful theological framework at all. But now I wonder.
Sin is a deeply, deeply fraught word. It has been used so violently, so destructively, so thoughtlessly.
So, with sin we face the question we always face with damaged words: do we try to reimagine the word and use it in a more life-affirming way, or do we move on from it in favor of other concepts?
Reimagining it may be worth it. One of the challenges here is that based on how we’ve used the concept historically, it’s hard to use the word sin today in a way that doesn’t imply that someone has transgressed certain metaphysical laws of right and wrong.
We can, for now, set aside the question of whether or not this is “true” (we don’t need to get into a conversation on platonic ideals and whether or not concepts are real things that “exist”). Even if it is true, is it the truest and deepest aspect of what’s going on when we hurt someone? And, more importantly, is this idea of duty to a metaphysical law something that helps us to live more lovingly?
law vs. covenant
You may know that anarchists reject law in favor of covenants. That is to say, we reject static ethical formulas (and especially the threats of coercion and violence that almost always come with them) in favor of living ethical agreements among members of communities.
I fear that my concept of sin is almost inextricably tied to the idea of some metaphysical law (even if I’ve deconstructed the idea of God as the cosmic law-enforcer) rather than to a free, voluntary, life-giving covenant between beings. Which would mean that the solution to the problem of sin would require some metaphysical overwrite as opposed to a free, voluntary, life-giving repair accomplished cooperatively by living beings.
Which framework—law or covenant—best helps me to:
understand and grieve my discompassionate/unempathetic/harmful choices
make repair in/for those situations
To speak of actions as right or wrong is kind of a philosophical dead end. Rightness and wrongness—the law—become ends in themselves. The idea that I transgressed a law only brings me a sense of guilt and shame. There isn’t really anything beyond that.
But the idea that I hurt a person (possibly myself) carries the possibility of responding through empathy. Connecting with the feelings and needs behind my actions, as well as with the feelings and needs of the person I hurt (possibly myself), is generative and open-ended. The way to repair harm that hurts someone’s feelings and neglects their needs is to work towards acknowledging those feelings and meeting those needs. Now there’s something to do! Now there’s somewhere to go!
The idea that the universe is a cosmic “state” with eternal metaphysical statutory laws has been around as long as there have been rulers who’ve wanted to construct theologies that reify and justify their own rulership. One indication that this framework isn’t helpful is this: the idea that I broke one of those laws (and am guilty) doesn’t give me anywhere to go except for prison or anything to do except undergo punishment.
It was weird to be in a place where I had already rejected guilt and punishment theologies but hadn’t rejected the ethical law framework undergirding them. It’s been hard to not recreate spiritual prisons to put myself in or to pronounce spiritual sentences upon myself to then serve.
On the other hand, the idea that I acted in a way that did not enrich life, which would be a violation of my own values and the free covenant (the teachings of the sermon on the mount) into which I’ve entered of my own accord (by praying the Lord’s prayer), does give me somewhere to go, and something to do, and more importantly, someone to be.
I still get to go further up and further into God’s kingdom (thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven).
I still get to do justice and love mercy. I get to do better today than I did yesterday (forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors, and lead us not into the time of trial, but deliver us from evil).
I still get to be someone wonderfully and fearfully made, worthy of empathy and capable of repair (blessed are the poor in spirit… the mourners…the ones who hunger and thirst for righteousness…the merciful…the meek… the peacemakers).
Even with all I’ve done, I still get to be called pure in heart and I still get to see God. Why? Because Jesus has made a way for us to repair (and prevent!) harm by acknowledging people’s feelings and needs, in a way that helps us to:
build personal habits that help us to grow ethically, out of empathy and solidarity rather than guilt or shame
build relationships and communal practices that help us, individually and collectively, to heal from hurt and to become beloved communities
Did Jesus come to save us from the sentences which the cosmic state had passed upon us due to our transgression of metaphysical laws? Or did Jesus come to show us how to love one another?
If “sin” language is, at its best, an intermediary for empathy language, is there not an argument for simply removing the middleman?
Personally, I’d rather think in terms of harm rather than sin. I’d rather use an empathic framework for harm than a legal one. I’d rather think in terms of moving compassionately through grief, regret, contrition, and building virtuous habits, as opposed to confronting cosmic laws and legislators and enforcers. I’d like to think of penance as internal and external repair. I’d rather rely on communal accountability and healing than on statist punishment. I’d rather think in terms of free empathy towards beings than compulsory obedience to laws.
That might just be me though! Everyone interprets spiritual concepts in light of their own experiences, commitments, and desires. There are as many understandings of sin as there are people. Does yours genuinely serve your growth in love? If so, cool.
But if you’re like me and it maybe does not, and therefore needs to be jettisoned, that’s also fine. Was humankind made for the Sabbath, or the Sabbath made for us? Were we created and retrofitted to some fixed eternal concept of sin, or was it (at best) developed as a way to help us to love?
Rulers love it when we collapse solidarity and supremacy into right and wrong. It’s much easier to control the definition and application of concepts than to control people’s understanding and honoring of spiritual realities. Rulers love it when we use right and wrong as middlemen for feelings and needs, or perhaps more often as smoke screens for feelings and needs. Their goal is to get us out of touch with our feelings and needs, because as soon as we’re in touch with those things, as soon as we reconnect with the empathy that is at the root of our very humanity, that is when we rise up and throw off structures, systems, language, and concepts that do not acknowledge our feelings and do not meet our needs.
out of curiosity I googled "jesus talking about sin." even the fairly conservative article I skimmed conceded that the only time jesus explicitly used the language/framework was when he was talking about forgiveness. and the gospels make it clear that forgiveness is a matter of an individual having compassion for another human being. it's interesting to me that jesus does not appeal to a legal framework for harm as is so common in both the tradition before him and after him. he certainly emphasizes an empathic framework for harm and repair, though. I wonder if Jesus cut out the middleman as well.