If the church is a hospital for sinners, where are the patients?

The title of this post is a rhetorical question asked by a young man who joined our church several years ago. He had grown up in a family that acknowledged as a matter of doctrine that they were sinners but acted as if they never committed sins. When this young man went to his parents to talk about his doubts about faith and struggles with sin, he received theological answers rather than pastoral care. When he tried to talk with his parents about shortcomings in his upbringing, his parents were unwilling to sincerely admit to errors or weaknesses in their parenting. People at his home church never talked about struggling with sins, or at least non-respectable sins. Probably this young man was not completely accurate in his perception of his family and home church, but it seems likely that there is considerable truth in his assessment. My wife and I tried to give him a home away from home with our family, but sadly he abandoned the faith, left our church, and stopped responding to our communication.

I think the core aspects of what this young man experienced are widespread in conservative Reformed churches. It may seem odd that people who formally believe total depravity and full grace and forgiveness in Christ have such a difficult time sincerely acknowledging that they are corrupt sinners, but there it is. Perhaps pastors hear about people’s sins, but the typical member does not. Instead, our churches appear to be filled with nearly righteous people who just need some rough edges smoothed off. I suppose we could call this a revised version of Pharisaism, except in this case, it claims a false righteousness based on superficial imputation rather than superficial works.

In recent years, I’ve heard some Christians distinguish guilt from shame. In their definition, guilt is feeling bad about bad things that you’ve done, and shame is feeling bad about yourself because you are a bad person. They assert that it’s good to feel guilt but bad to feel shame, which is an idea that appears to have been imported from secular psychology. I suppose this concept is reconciled with the doctrine of total depravity by acknowledging that we are bad people apart from Christ, but in Christ, we shouldn’t feel shame about ourselves. There’s a certain truth to this, but I fear this freedom from shame is obtained via a shallow repentance, as if we can make a vague confession of our sinfulness to God and thereby receive permission to view ourselves as righteous.

Perhaps one test of our heart attitude is what we believe about our future state in heaven. Will we all be like the angels and appear perfectly righteous with our past sins entirely forgotten or completely obscured by our covering of righteousness in Christ? Or will all of our past sins and their shamefulness be totally apparent to everyone, such that we will all marvel at the grace that we’ve received to still be accounted as righteous in Christ? If the latter is true, then wouldn’t it be a foretaste of heaven for people to know about our sins and their shamefulness even now in this life, so that we can marvel at the grace we’ve received?

Does forgiveness in Christ take away our shame, or does it make our shame bearable, by assuring us of divine love, despite our shame? If we feel too ashamed for people to learn about our non-respectable sins, have we really experienced grace? Perhaps instead it’s the case that we haven’t really repented and are still clinging onto our pride.

12 Likes

I think you have to tackle this directly. If I may, an example:

Many years ago, the pastor of the church I was going to, let me do a series (five messages) during the Lenten season that year on the ā€œSeven Deadly Sinsā€ (riffed on 1 Jn 2:15-17). That list covers just about everything … at any rate, the intention was to bring this sort of thing front and centre to people. Perhaps that is what you need to do here.

Did this discussion of the ā€œSeven Deadly Sinsā€ come only from the pulpit or Sunday School lectern, or did members of the church also respond by openly sharing about non-respectable sins that they committed and how they received true grace?

Unfortunately, the former only.

EDIT

In thinking about this, I am reminded of a remark CS Lewis once made, which was that if you wanted to see conviction of sin in, say, your evangelism, ā€œuse an example of a sin to which you yourself are tempted or indeed have committedā€.

2 Likes

I’m preparing another post in Hrothgar’s Hall that touches on this issue.

Amen and amen. This is so sadly true, and it leaves those who genuinely understand their sin crushed in isolation.

6 Likes

Among other things, the patients should be at our Lord’s table. The Lord’s table should be an ongoing confession and proclamation of our sin. For why else did Christ die, and why are we still proclaiming this over and over again?

1 Like

I come back to this aphorism from, of all people, Oscar Wilde: ā€œno sinner without a future. No saint without a pastā€.

Calvin on this point (from his sermon on 1 Tim 1.12-13; worth it’s weight in gold):

Paul’s statement by reason of its brevity might seem unclear. He therefore goes further, confessing that he was, as we have said, a blasphemer against God and a persecutor of the gospel—and a violent one at that. He does more, then, than suggest that God and our Lord Jesus Christ made up in part for what he lacked. He makes clear that whatever nature had given him was corrected and put right, for there was only evil in him. We conclude therefore that God completely remade him, and this was no shared arrangement such that Paul might say, I was good for some things, and God was good for the rest. On the contrary he reveals that nothing of his own remains, and that everything he has comes to him from above.

We are thus admonished, both great and small, to do our duty. If we would magnify God’s grace as we should, we must understand who we are and what we might have been had not God come to our aid. This is not an easy thing to do. Men like nothing better than to think of themselves as somehow important, and although they may casually admit that they owe everything to God, they are happy to hide the fact. We will never bring ourselves to acknowledge it simply, openly and candidly unless we are compelled to, especially when we risk having to confess things which are embarrassing or shameful, to disclose the wrongs we have done, and not only to hang our heads but to realize that we stand condemned unless the Lord in his boundless mercy saves us from destruction. The prospect of shame makes us so resistant that we draw back as much as we can and try every sort of stratagem, so that if we cannot wholly justify ourselves we may at least look for a place where we may hide our depravity.

Paul’s text deserves our close attention, for there is nothing vague about the admission that he makes. He is not like the hypocrites who say: Yes, I am human, which means that I am sinful.’ On the contrary he tells us plainly what he was: ā€˜I was a persecutor of God’s church and a blasphemer of his truth.’ He has no thought here of invoking human weakness in order to cover himself. As I said, he leaves each of us free to confess his own sins, as he himself does. Yet if we compare ourselves with Paul, would we not have much more cause to exalt God’s goodness and to be utterly abased? Would we not have much more reason to acknowledge the sins which overwhelmed us before God reached out his hand to us? But how few there are who show by their humility that they really prize God’s gifts! Why is that? Pride has got the better of us and makes us conceal our wickedness; we want it to be buried and forgotten. It never occurs to us that we are being grossly ungrateful in not praising God’s grace as it deserves, and that we are depriving him of the honour we owe him. So we must learn to practise more earnestly what Paul teaches us by personal example. We must all, I say, endeavour to exalt the goodness of God as we have each experienced it, and we must each examine our own sins, because unless we confess our faults and transgressions we cannot reverence God for the blessings we have received from him. Let us all strive to do this and let us throw off our foolish sense of shame, not fearing to suffer rebuke once we are clothed with what God gives us. For when a person offends, although he may be downcast and dismayed, he is not disgraced on that account.

I should add, this is directed primarily at pastors who ought to be leading their sheep in the confessing of their sins so as to avoid hollow and fake exaltation of God’s grace

2 Likes