Kendall Smith, No-Div
Kendall is an elementary science teacher and an avid lover of books, nature, and long walks. She is easily distracted by thunderstorms and loves a good conversation over coffee.
If you read my blog post about the Church and the Enneagram, you might remember that my 8th grade year was a challenging one for me. And today, I’m going to confess something else about that year. In the spring of 1995, as an 8th grader at Turlock Jr. High School, I decided to start cussing. I don’t really know what prompted this rebellion, but I will say that it is easier to start cussing than to stop. After a few weeks of my foul mouth, I decided I was finished. I like to joke that this was my only major (outward) rebellion as a child, and honestly, my parents didn’t know about it until they read this blog post.
I tell this story because I now have a new “s” word. I confessed to a group of fellow seminary students recently that I kind of hate the word “sin” right now. I know the Bible uses it. I know that even Jesus used it. It’s just that, like so many things, it has taken on a meaning that seems to have a life of its own. The word seems to have become weaponized by Christians and occasionally, even the Church. To be honest, it feels like the word doesn’t have a good connection point with most people any more.
Personally, when I think of the word sin, it feels like rebellion. Intentionality. Hate. Murder. Stealing. Lying. Violence. I hear pastors talk about wanting to “talk about sin more” in an effort to make people realize how bad and evil we really are. And to emphasize our need for Jesus. The problem is, when I sit and talk with people, and even when I look inwardly into my own heart, I don’t sense evil. I sense hurt. Pain. Grief and sadness. And deep brokenness.
If we look for sin and evil in the biblical story, it is there. We can certainly find it. But as we’ve mentioned before, our sin is not the starting point. God created a very good creation, and created humans to be God’s image to the rest of the world. Scot McKnight, in his book, “The Blue Parakeet”, writes that at the beginning of the Bible, there is Oneness. God with humans, and humans with humans. This oneness gets broken through rebellion and humanity’s ability to be God’s image on earth is fractured. That oneness is now otherness, and rather than imaging God well, humans become deeply broken in our ability to do so. The rest of the biblical narrative tells of God pursuing His own creation in order to bring this Oneness again.
Why does it matter whether we call it sin or brokenness? Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it’s presumptuous of me to change the wording. But I know for myself, when I recognize that my sin is actually a result of deep brokenness in the world--in the way we relate to each other, in the way we relate to our Creator--it opens me up to look for the Healer--someone who can fix the fracture. It also gives language to some frustrating patterns in my life. I am a major reason why some of my relationships have fallen apart. It’s not because I murdered, cheated, or lied. That’s why the word sin doesn’t seem to fit. Instead, it’s because I have mistrusted, held back my full self in fear and timidity, and protected myself against potential hurt. Are these reactions sin? I wouldn’t call them that. Are they the wounds of living as humans in the world? Absolutely! And I can see traces of this in everyone I know. We are all operating in ways that hurt others and protect ourselves--and this is evidence of that deep fracture that occurred between God and humans. Romans says that “all of creation has been groaning...”
Why does this matter? How we imagine our deepest needs informs how we imagine God’s response to us. If the problem of sin is our deepest and most urgent need, then we begin to imagine a God who can’t tolerate sin, who can’t be in the presence of sinful humans, who is angry at us, and who can only be appeased by the death of an innocent one. But this isn’t the truest version of the story. Instead, when we imagine that the entirety of God’s Good Creation has been deeply broken, we see a God who goes to any and all lengths--to be with us, to show love to us, to redeem us, and to bring us back into a full relationship with Himself again.
This God is not angry with us.
This God does not refuse to be in our presence.
This God doesn’t stand at a distance until we get it all figured out.
Rather, our God is filled with compassion at our pain, our hurt, our bondage. He comes near to us, lovingly and patiently. He became human and lived among us—so that we could finally see the love and kindness in person. And our God has already started the entire rescue plan to bring all of creation back into Oneness again. It’s the best *@&#($) news there is!