“I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”
– John 15:5
I was equipped with the Bible verses. I was confident and depressed. That afternoon I took on my counselor, trying to convince her that I was evil and total depraved. It wasn’t a long dispute. But I ruminated on it long after. How could I reconcile the path of healing that was being offered to me with the core beliefs of my faith tradition. I wanted freedom. But how dare my counselor suggest that I’m “not bad.” Jesus Himself called us “evil!” I needed my counselor to see me for who I thought I was. I needed to remind her, every time I hinted at how I had been injured by others, that I always shared the blame…that I had triggered the abuse with my own depravity. Wasn’t it really my fault?
In that moment, it felt like I needed my counselor to agree with me. Shifts in core beliefs are tumultuous at best and I was scared. I felt I needed the comfort of my perverse justice…I wanted the pain that provided a temporary null of the senses so I could carry on another day, driven by my fleeting self-satisfaction that the scales were in balance. That I had gotten what I deserved.
I wanted to thump my Bible and show off my perfectly packaged, pristine theology, regardless of the anti-Christ behavior it was enabling.
“We are all sinners, from birth.” I was taught this since I was a small child. Original sin. Born guilty of another’s transgression, before I took my first breath.
All around me were models and messaging that I was bad, that I’d better accept Jesus or else someday I’d pay. That even my best would never be good enough, I could never actually “throw off the sin that so easily entangles” (Hebrews 12:1). Despite what the angels proclaimed at Christ’s birth, I could never earn favor or love. I was eternally rotten, in dire need of someone to take the penalty so I could go on inevitably sinning while God the Father ‘looks at me and see’s Christ’s righteousness‘…but I’m still not better. Just hidden or excused.
All these theological concepts were fed by a confusing combination of defamatory statements on my inherited ill-character that could both be changed by the Holy Spirit and couldn’t, paired with punishments from “mature Christians” that taught me I must earn both love and favor. I didn’t want to be trapped in feelings of self-loathing and shame, even though the consequences (death and separation from God) were taken care of.
Phew. Eternity solved. But what about being worthy of love? This monster I must be could never be worthy of love? I thought God was a God of actual justice, not irrational work arounds? No wonder toxic positivity, the “look on the bright side” campaign, reigned. There was a dark side that still scared people…we had to look away, and sing louder, to cope.
The cattle are lowing
The Baby awakes
But little Lord Jesus
No crying He makes
In the communities of faith, that I interacted with, I saw a common theme: Children are totally depraved from infancy. They are purely sinful. Unfortunately, this ideology informed the collective parenting attitude of this community. It wasn’t all bad. There were happy times, too. And there was a habit of scoffing and resentment, rolling eyes and plenty of “what’s wrong with you,” towards children who were ‘the most sinful among us.’ And the idea that every inconvenient thing a child did must be rooted in their depravity. Crying, temper tantrums, talking back, asking why, and big emotions of any kind were seen as proofs of that depravity. Sin that needed to be driven out with violence.
Emphasis from the parenting teachers of the day was on driving out foolishness with the rod of discipline. But no mention was made of how actions bestowed on a child are bestowed on Christ. What is done to the least of these, has been done to Him (Matthew 25:40).
When you strike a child. You wound the risen Christ.
Self-esteem was a necessity to avoid being annoyingly sorrowful but it was also treated as pride. In reality, I was confused a lot. I recognize now that this pattern doesn’t actually promote healthy living and saw that it was understandably applied in inconsistent ways.
The bully on the playground was damned for his behavior, rooted in his “jealously and poor self-esteem.” We were to kill him with kindness but take none for ourselves. In the economy of God, I was taught, every one takes care of everyone else’s encouragement and uplifting so everyone gets taken care of. Until they don’t. These are environments where narcissists flourish. It’s a theory that doesn’t work.
As I’ve already mentioned, it was clear that I needed to understand the humiliation of my inherited erroneous ways that I also couldn’t escape. Still, I was pressured to escape them by reprimands from adults, but I needed to receive this treatment stoically without the natural angst that this humiliation inspires. If I cried out at mistreatment, I was met with the reply, “Well, what did you do?” I learned that anything bad that happened must have been deserved, because I was bad. I was totally depraved but somehow, if I could learn to control myself, I could manage my circumstances and escape this great pain. I committed myself to perfection while knowing I could never achieve it. How depressing.
My cage of despair was built, piece by piece. By the time I reached my teens, I had made this cage my home and felt guilty for not fulfilling the “Great Commission” of inviting others into my reality. How illogical of me.
But before you go painting me as ungrateful, I will admit to having felt relief that I had been sheltered from the impeding, post-death doom by Christ’s work. In all honesty, that was what kept me going in this crazy-making environment. And, at times, I cried out to God in the privacy of my pretty pink bedroom as a 10 year old child, asking Him to kill me because I didn’t have the guts to do it myself. I was wounded, because the “Gospel” kept being used as good news for the future and damnation for today. When I was exposed to this teaching, I still had a life-time to go, being made ever aware of the reality of my depravity, by the faith community. I still had to live with myself. Or, did I?
I am no longer amazed at how quickly “I am a sinful wretch” turns into “my life is not worth living.” When self-loathing and self-insults are promoted as “accepting reality” or “healthy Christian living,” there are dangerous but understandable results. This is self-righteous self-harm, a practice rooted in perceived holiness resulting from defaming oneself, which comes with a degradation of self-esteem that is a path to suicide. On the other hand, I have seen people develop a tolerance for shameful behavior, excusing it on the grounds of “I can’t help it, I’m depraved. #savedbygrace”
How do we teach the necessity of Christ without causing His image-bearers to stumble onto the suicidal ideation scale? Do we actually understand what Christ really accomplished? Do we know what humans are? Are we missing something? How do we promote repentance without destroying self-worth and inciting depression? How do we teach that “we all fall short” without normalizing or dismissing horrendous behaviors? These are questions I will leave for you to ponder.
That day, in my counselor’s office, was a turning point for me. Seeds were planted as my counselor became an agent of grace. She gave me what I couldn’t achieve on my own. Hope that I didn’t have to hate the woman in the mirror. Hope that I actually could escape the sinful tendencies that ensnared me – including self-hatred and self-harm – and live a life of repentance fueled by love. I didn’t have to exchange the chains of sin for the chains of self-loathing. I could be liberated. Actually freed! I didn’t have to defame myself in endless caveats whenever speaking of the harms I have endured. I don’t have to prey on myself, victimizing myself again and again with accusations of ill-intent. I can look honestly at the wounds I bear AND flaws I possess without concluding, I will always be bad and always have been.
In order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven you must become like a little child (Matthew 8:13). I see these words so differently now. I believe, beside the authors of Scripture, of whom Augustine and Calvin where not, that “each person bears the guilt of his or her own sin“…not the guilt of something they haven’t committed themselves. I didn’t start in the red, already bankrupt. I was born into a journey. My own journey. This is the doctrine of ancestral sin.
In the realm of mental health, theology matters. It was bad theology that made me sick. And correction to that theology that makes me well. More work has been done than what I have recorded here. After all, the sum of my journey towards Christ, which has not concluded yet, would fill volumes. I have shared what I am comfortable sharing at this time, with hope that it will inspire thoughtfulness in the reader. And, above all, a pursuit of Christ and His love.
The Fathers of the Church-East and West-in the early centuries shared the same perspective: humanity longs for liberation from the tyranny of death, sin, corruption and the devil which is only possible through the Life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Only the compassionate advent of God in the flesh could accomplish our salvation, because only He could conquer these enemies of humanity.
V. Rev. Antony Hughes, M.Div | Ancestral Versus Original Sin: An Overview with Implications for Psychotherapy
If you or someone you know is struggling with suicide or self-harm, you are allowed to reach out for help… it is good to reach out for help! If you don’t know where to begin, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is a great place to start (contact by phone at 1-800-273-8255). You are lovable, valuable, and priceless.
The Voice of a Phoenix 