While modern mental health care has recognized the incredibly dangerous and often paralyzing effects of depression characterized by low self-esteem, feeling worthless, and feeling as if one is being rightfully punished, certain brands of Christian fundamentalism seem to continue to preach a destructive theology of sin that I argue enhances those feelings and increases the risk for suicide.
In my own preparation for ordination in the Lutheran church I have witnessed firsthand the crippling effects of that theology and am choosing to no longer remain silent. Those who preach a theology of worthlessness need to be held accountable to their destructive words.
As a brief background into the diagnosis and treatment of depression, in 1961 Dr. Aaron T. Beck published a 21-question self-reporting questionnaire to measure the severity of depression. This questionnaire, named the Beck Depression Inventory (DPI), was based on a revolutionary concept that is now the basic premise for one of the most effective treatments of depression, cognitive behavior therapy. At the time of the DPI’s release, most mental health care professionals assumed depression was a result of psychological forces that influenced a person’s behavior. The DPI, however, named that the real root of depression was in a patient’s own negative cognitions or thoughts. Thoughts inspire feelings, and feelings can cause prolonged periods of depression. Therefore, an effective treatment of depression is to work with a person’s thoughts and to create new neural pathways of positive self-affirmation.
The DPI’s 21 questions identified a few telltale symptoms of depression ranging from thoughts and feelings (such as a loss of interest in doing things once found enjoyable) to physical symptoms (such as weight loss and trouble sleeping). Among the identifiable symptoms are feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, guilt, shame, and being discouraged alongside having low self-esteem and excessively criticizing and blaming one’s self. Depending on the severity, if left untreated those feelings can lead to suicidal impulses, which pose a significant threat to a person’s life.
A theology of sin that emphasizes and even enhances depression-based feelings of worthlessness is rampant throughout different practices of Christian fundamentalism. Though fundamentalism is a broad term that describes movements throughout a number of denominations, in the Lutheran church it takes the name of WordAlone. WordAlone is a self-described reform movement within the Lutheran church in North America. Its main reform objective is to call the Lutheran church back to its biblical and Lutheran confessional roots, which they argue have been betrayed by liberal Protestantism’s intellectualization of faith in a way that affirms culture. In other words, they argue that more progressive Protestant theologies have used the tools of academic scholarship to favorably reinterpret the supposedly straightforward Word of God that condemns culture and a fallen humanity.
In respect to WordAlone’s theology of sin, there are three basic principles. First, humans are inherently full of evil lust and inclination. In other words, there is nothing inherently good about humanity and humanity is not capable by its own motivation of doing good. Next, human beings must be killed daily (drowned in the waters of baptism) in order to receive a new life that exists only in Christ. In other words, by being entirely decrepit and worthless, the only redemption that humanity finds is one that is outside of itself. Finally, one cannot fully live into the new life of righteousness in Christ without repentance – a full recognition of all of one’s shortcomings and worthlessness.
Not only is this theology of sin dangerous because it externalizes the locus of control by placing one’s very notion of self worth and esteem in the hands of others, but it also dangerously emboldens some of depression’s darkest suspicions: a person really is without worth, hope, and esteem.
Returning to the principles of cognitive behavior therapy, depressed feelings are thought to be caused by negative cognitions or thoughts, which form neural pathways in one’s brain. The neural pathways can be formed into a tight-knit pattern that transmits the negative thoughts and further entrenches a person in depression.
A fundamentalist theology of sin that emphasizes one’s sense of being worthless, I argue, affirms these negative neural pathways and can further deepen a person’s depressive state. It is as if a man is standing in a hole, and a theology of worthlessness comes along and deepens the hole, making it additionally difficult (if not impossible) to get out. Those shovel-wielding theologians would do better to offer outstretched hands instead.
This image is the work of Hendrike and is used here in accordance with the photo’s Creative Commons license.
Thanks for this piece. I’m curious to know, though, how you reconcile things like Luther’s anfechtung (with its gracious resolution) and works like _The Bondage of the Will_ with this sensible concern about the effects of depression. That is, can one teach the doctrine of total depravity without fostering depression? That bit about “evil lust and inclination” isn’t WordAlone making stuff up: they’re quoting the Augsburg confession. The doctrine of sola gratia would seem to offer a way of balancing the teaching on depravity, but on the other hand this quite deliberately “externalizes the locus of control,” as you put it. My question is this: were Luther and Melanchthon among those “preaching a theology of worthlessness” and who therefore “need to be held accountable for their destructive words”? If so, what does it mean for you to be pursuing ordination in the Lutheran church?
To be clear, I think Luther was wrong about depravity, and I agree with you that it’s a destructive teaching. At the same time, I wonder whether the fundamentalists have a point (something I’m usually loath to admit), because isn’t Luther’s tower experience all about the paradox that abandoning works righteousness (i.e., admitting one’s depravity) is ultimately liberating? Why doesn’t liberal protestantism (as they call it) just jettison its unwanted baggage in a kind of new protestation? Or is that basically what’s happening already, and it’s just as messy as the Reformation was (albeit thankfully less bloody)?
Thanks for this, Kari.
As a Confessional Lutheran Word Alone Theologian, I do think there is a lot of validity in what you’re saying about the theology of sin having the danger of leading one into utter despair. However, this is only when the theology of sin is taken in isolation and divorced from the other very clear teachings of Confessional Lutheranism. While the theology of sin (that humanity is so fallen that they are incapable of saving themselves) can be perceived as negative, the theology of sin is only the 1st part of a two step process. The theology of sin can draw people to despair of their own value, but then the gospel comes in and says, So what? Even though you may be unworthy to achieve your salvation on your own, God loves YOU so much that he has GIVEN you HIS righteousness and therefore NOTHING that you do can separate you from the love of God in Jesus Christ.
Word Alone theology also lives in the tension that while we are indeed sinners, we are also “fearfully and wonderfully made” by God and that we are so valuable that “He has numbered the hairs on our head.” As God’s creation, we have intrinsic value.
While I understand entirely where you’re coming from about the dangers of Word Alone theology (because frankly it’s where I was a few years ago), and agree that for some people this theology of sin (especially taken in isolation) can have a negative impact, having spent time dealing with my own depression and defectiveness schema and feelings of unworthiness, I actually have found so much MORE hope in Lutheran Theology than in Liberal Protestant Theology for the reason that it NAMES my insecurities, validates me in them, and then FREES me from them with the gospel of Jesus Christ. This actually gives me great hope. Now, I have parishioners who wouldn’t feel the same way about this and so, as an LCMC pastor, I am very diligent about making sure to affirm those who feel unworthy while convicting those who are filled with self-righteousness. You’ve reminded me once again how important that is, though, and I thank you.
Thank you for a well-thought out, informative article. I really appreciate it.
Such an important discussion. Thanks for writing it, Kari. I’ve been wondering lately if this depression and feelings of worthlessness are because of the individual focus on sin, rather than a corporate view of sin?
I think saying “we all are sinful” rather than “you are sinful” at least puts someone down in the hole with us. Whether or not it solves some of the other issues you raise is something completely different.
Your courage for publishing this is second only to the very valid insights which lie therein. I will always stand with you, and am so proud of your voice…especially when it cries out from the wilderness like it did in this piece.
Thanks Kari.
-Scott
Bold speech, Kari.
Even the Augsburg Confession and Bondage of the Will retain the idea of a “passive capacity” for good that isn’t extinguished in us by the Fall. Whatever else he was, Luther was not an advocate of suicide. The passive capacity for good may not be enough for contemporary theological discourse, but I think it helps to realize that it was intended as and may well have been good spiritual medicine at a time when the prevailing doctrines of grace, merit, and purgatory left people in exactly the kind of despair relating to their own power that you describe. Ultimately Luther and the Lutherans describe our fundamental disability to do something that isn’t really in us by ourselves, but the bet they are making is that we are not by ourselves. I am troubled by the same language you are, and have to read it in the context of the so much else said by the movement that speaks of Christ joined to us, through whom we can do all things. Although the language needs to be different in the contemporary context, I think the gods of commerce, social achievement, and physical fitness are promising us salvation by our own efforts every bit as much today as the church was promising us salvation by good works in Luther’s time. And I think the Lutheran critically realistic message is still true; these gods are lying to us.
In coming from a fundamentalist evangelical background I saw some of what you describe in a variety of traditions. Part of the reason I decided as an adult to leave that tradition was the overt condemnation of people, ostensibly for a failure to abide by a particular moral code. Particularly troubling to me was the condemnation of those outside their defined “church”. Somewhere along the way the perception of God went from “for God so loved the world” to “sinners in the hands of an angry God.” The corollary to that is the idea that we must frighten and threaten people into compliance and acceptance of God.
Orthodox Christianity has historically operated from a completely different paradigm. Early on, the Orthodox Church rejected a Platonic dualism that said spirit (or, form) was good, but matter (creation) was somehow less so.
We understand everything in creation to be made and called good – and whatever one believes happened at the “Fall”, nothing changes that idea of “good”. We go further and state that humanity was created (both male and female) in the image and likeness of the Creator, and it is simply wrong to see humanity, or particular humans, as somehow depraved or without a glimmer of that goodness.
As well, we believe in a Creator that is just, but merciful, and that the ascetical disciplines are offered as medicines for our healing rather than punishments for our disobediences.
I find it difficult to accept that Luther’s initial protestation against the Roman Catholic Church led him to believe or doctrinalize the depravity of humanity. While some (like Calvin) may have taken that tact, it seems to be speculative in nature and somewhat inconsistent with the observable nature of humanity.
Some have said that the sin against the Holy Spirit written about in the New Testament is the abandonment of hope that God can and will forgive and restore. Luther’s language may have been over the top on occasion, but I still try to believe at the root he believed that every particular person was within the grasp and love of God.
I hope and pray you and those like you can restore the idea of hope, love, and reconciliation into your confession where necessary, and reinforce those concepts where the more radical fundamentalism hasn’t yet taken hold.
While I am unable to intelligently reply as those above me, I am in awe of your brevity for so steadfastly and face-on addressing this issue, because it is something I, who generally believes that humans tend towards chaos but not necessarily evil, always had trouble reconciling in my head.
Wonderfully written article, and I hope it sparks a lot of meaningful, much needed, discussion.
I have to admit that I’m struggling with this bit of thought, Kari. I was impressed by your sensitivity and clear-thinking in the brief time I had to know you last January, and this doesn’t seem like the same woman. My first impression was that your hurt and outrage are speaking here, and maybe getting the better of you. I would add that there’s always a time and place for upset, since healthy anger is the mind’s injustice alarm; however, I think you do yourself and confessional Lutherans a disservice here.
I think you’re absolutely right that if a pastor’s only word to her congregation is “Sinners!”, then she ought to consider looking for work treating septic tanks instead of serving a parish. I’m troubled, however, by the passage that contains the following clauses: “the only redemption that humanity finds is one that is outside of itself…one cannot fully live into the new life of righteousness in Christ without repentance.” It appears to me, based on the above article, that you disagree with these statements. If that is the case, is it your belief that humanity is capable of redeeming itself? Does humanity have the capacity to eradicate vice and evil on its own? Can a person live in righteousness without repenting?
I maintain that although it is patently false to assert that no human does any good, ever, it is equally false to assert that any human does no evil, ever. This is observably true. Take your pick for the former. My favorites are Jesus, Francis of Assisi and Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
Regarding the latter, my toddler is the picture of heavenly sweetness in my eyes. But like every other toddler in the history of upright monkeys with opposable thumbs, he’s selfish and willful and has on rare occasions tried to be as violent as someone who weighs <30 lbs can be with his parents and other children. Likewise, I'm a pretty nice guy most of the time, but too often I discover – through my own reflection or when another person tells me – that I've done wrong. Sometimes, when I open myself up to criticism from other people and outside sources of authority (like secular or religious laws and traditions) I find that actions I considered proper were, in fact, harmful to myself and others. For example, I try not be a pedant, but I often fail. It's frustrating, but worth correcting. If I'm getting that way here, please accept my apology.
Everyone sins. Since everyone sins, and sin is antithetical to righteousness, anyone who wants to live in righteousness has a problem. The first step in addressing that problem is to repent from, turn back from, sin. If you don't repent of sin, you persist, by definition, in it. If you persist in sin you are not, by definition, righteous.
But here's another problem – repenting doesn't necessarily make a person righteous anymore than deciding to not kill anyone else makes a murderer less a murderer. Jesus solves the problem of sin, making us righteous, by forgiving the repentant. That he does so makes it necessary, I think, to point out that forgiveness and permission are antithetical. Something that is permitted need not be forgiven. We can persist in things that are permitted all day long and still be righteous and have no need to repent or be forgiven. But we cannot persist in or return to sins that need forgiving and still be righteous. It would make no sense if a convicted thief whose criminal record had been expunged returned to thievery and tried to justify doing so by claiming that his prior record had been erased, so stealing must be permitted.
Q.E.D. – Righteousness requires forgiveness. Forgiveness requires repentance, which consists in turning back from and no longer sinning. To repent, one must take stock of one's failures and shortcomings, and doing so often requires another person or external standard by which to judge one's behavior.
I won't dispute that some people are abusive towards their fellow sinners. Such behavior disgusts me and is, itself, sinful. But to actually repent of our worst failings requires, in my experience, an outside impetus that consists of more than systematized positive thinking, as this may be no more than self-deception.
Thank you, Kari, yet again, for your thoughtful insight. I so look forward to reading every one of your pieces. I consider myself a Christian, but I have never understood the theory of repentance. I do not believe we are inherently evil, sinful beings.
I think we are inherently precious and perfect and I don’t believe in a God that would put forth any other viewpoint. Do I lie? Do I steal? Am I less than what I could call perfect? Of course, but I am gentle with myself – understanding, and constantly saying in each moment, “Is this the best I can be?” and I trust that God is right alongside me, guiding, supporting and loving me.
Jesus teaches love and compassion. Anything less is not what I would consider his teachings, but man’s teachings to try to dominate and control us through fear and lowering our vision of ourselves. If we think we are unworthy, and the Church tells us they know the secret to our salvation, we become disempowered. I just don’t think that’s the way it all works.
What’s so scary or alien about the concept that we can work WITH God and Jesus to become more whole, doing it through LOVE and not through shame, self-loathing, declaring ourselves despicable loathsome sinners? It just doesn’t make any sense to me. Thank you for your boldness, Kari. The world needs your voice.
Susan, you speak my language.
Dorothy
Dear Susan,
I concur with your thought.
Blessings,
Dorothy
Thank you, Kari, for writing this article. It resonated with a thought that I have been having recently about conflicts between science and religion. Your article added a new dimension to this conflict.
I have long had difficulty wrapping my mind around Stephen Jay Gould’s concept of Nonoverlapping Magisteria (NOMA) which promotes that idea that science and religion are two very different fields of human knowledge. NOMA suggests that each should keep to itself and not intrude upon the teaching authority of the other in their domain.
In his initial essay on NOMA titled “Nonoverlapping Magisteria” in 1997, he concentrates on evolution vs. creation science. There the NOMA principle makes sense. I personally don’t care whether a person believes that God created all of the species less than 10 millennia ago or that the world coalesced some 4.5 billion years ago, life developed out of non-life and life continued to diversify through natural selection. As Thomas Jefferson said: another person’s belief “… neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.”
But there are other topics where science and religion each have something to say, and their conclusions are often very different. Two come to mind:
Corporal punishment of children: The Bible — particularly Proverbs talks clearly about beating children with a rod. Yet a two decade long study showed that children who had been spanked from time to time during childhood grew up to experience higher levels of alcoholism, drug addiction, clinical depression and anxiety. Children who had been often spanked had significantly higher levels of all four problems as adults.
I have been reading a book by John Shore titled “Wings on a pig: Why the ‘Christian’ view of gays doesn’t work.” It is composed of excerpts from his gay-positive blog, with each excerpt followed by two personal letters from lesbian and gay adults describing their experiences coming out of the closet to themselves, to their friends and to their family. Most had a similar story: raised in a conservative Christian home, adsorbed countless negative stories about LGBTs, realized at puberty that they were a LGBT, massive depression, occasional thought at suicide, and a long painful interval at resolution. There were no stories of growing up on a secular home, parents being open to minority sexual orientation, and a smooth transition into adult hood. Meanwhile, mental health professionals teach that homosexual, bisexual, and heterosexual orientation are all normal, natural, unchosen, unchangeable, and OK.
Perhaps theologians and pastors should investigate what science is saying about these two and many other topics and how scientists arrived at their conclusions, before teaching their denomination’s position to their congregation. It might also help if they also investigated the full range of Christian beliefs about these topics — very different beliefs all derived from the Bible.
I would suggest that any other path exhibits depraved indifference towards individuals in their congregation; theologians and pastors could have blood on their hands if their teachings do not correspond with reality.