I was made aware of
this article in The Hedgehog Review last week
(h/t to John S.), but saved it for this special edition, in which I feature only one article.
It contained so many wonderful insights into our times and the gospel, I thought it worth an
extended introduction. Wilfred McClay, professor of the history of liberty and director of
the Center for the History of Liberty at the University of Oklahoma, begins:
Those of us living in the developed countries of the
West find ourselves in the tightening grip of a paradox, one whose shape and character
have so far largely eluded our understanding. It is the strange persistence of guilt as a
psychological force in modern life.
This caught my attention
because I've often read that we in the West no longer experience guilt. Maybe shame, but
not guilt. Because of this new social reality, some theologians and missiologists argue
that we need to emphasize different aspects of the gospel if we are going to appeal to our
age. To be sure, there are in fact various roads into the gospel. But still, the
assertiveness of these assertions have puzzled me, because when Paul summarizes the ageless
and eternal gospel in the classic passage from 1 Corinthians 15, he says this:
By this gospel you are saved, if you hold firmly to
the word I preached to you. Otherwise, you have believed in vain. For what I received I
passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins … (1 Cor.
15:2-3).
And at the end of the first
Christian sermon, when Peter applies the message to his hearers, he says, "Repent and be
baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your
sins …" (Acts 2:38).
In other words, the earliest
Christian preaching put the forgiveness of sins first and foremost among the reasons to
believe. That's what they thought was so good about the Good News. It has seemed odd to me
that we are supposedly living in an age in which the fundamental human condition has so
changed that people don't need the gospel of forgiveness anymore, or at least not as much
as they used to. Still I have to admit that I have met few people who seem overly burdened
by guilt—as least as I have understood how guilt manifests itself.
McClay opened my eyes to see
what guilt looks like in contemporary life—and how utterly pervasive it remains.
He first acknowledges the philosophical roots of our disbelief in guilt. McClay says that
though philosophers such as Friedrich Nietzsche "were confident that once the modern
Western world finally threw off the metaphysical straitjacket" of guilt, Sigmund Freud
argued that "tenacious sense of guilt to be 'the most important problem in the development
of civilization.' Indeed he observed, 'the price we pay for our advance in civilization is
a loss of happiness through the heightening of the sense of guilt.'"
There are two ways the modern
world deals with guilt. One is therapeutic, defining guilt "as the result of psychic
forces that do not relate to anything morally consequential." Along the way, it redefines
forgiveness, which "rightly understood can never deny the reality of justice. To forgive,
whether one forgives trespasses or debts, means abandoning the just claims we have against
others, in the name of the higher ground of love. Forgiveness affirms justice even in the
act of suspending it. It is rare because it is so costly. In the new therapeutic
dispensation, however, forgiveness is all about the forgiver, and his or her power and
well-being."
In other words, in today's
world, forgiveness talk is mostly horizontal (forgiveness toward others), and is less about
dealing with an objective wrong and more about one's mental health.
The other attempt to banish
guilt is what McClay calls the "infinite extensibility of guilt." This section deserves a
longer excerpt:
In a world in which the web of relationships between
causes and effects yields increasingly to human understanding and manipulation, and in
which human agency therefore becomes ever more powerful and effective, the range of our
potential moral responsibility, and therefore of our potential guilt, also steadily
expands. We like to speak, romantically, of the interconnectedness of all things, failing
to recognize that this same principle means that there is almost nothing for which we
cannot be, in some way, held responsible. …
I can see pictures of a starving child in a remote
corner of the world on my television, and know for a fact that I could travel to that
faraway place and relieve that child's immediate suffering, if I cared to. I don't do it,
but I know I could. Although if I did so, I would be a well-meaning fool like Dickens's
ludicrous Mrs. Jellyby, who grossly neglects her own family and neighborhood in favor of
the distant philanthropy of African missions. Either way, some measure of guilt would seem
to be my inescapable lot, as an empowered man living in an interconnected world.
Whatever donation I make to a charitable organization,
it can never be as much as I could have given. I can never diminish my carbon footprint
enough, or give to the poor enough, or support medical research enough, or otherwise do the
things that would render me morally blameless.
Colonialism, slavery, structural poverty, water
pollution, deforestation—there's an endless list of items for which you and I can
take the rap. To be found blameless is a pipe dream, for the demands on an active
conscience are literally as endless as an active imagination's ability to conjure them.
And as those of us who teach young people often have occasion to observe, it may be
precisely the most morally perceptive and earnest individuals who have the weakest
common-sense defenses against such overwhelming assaults on their over-receptive
sensibilities. They cannot see a logical place to stop. Indeed, when any one of us
reflects on the brute fact of our being alive and taking up space on this planet,
consuming resources that could have met some other, more worthy need, we may be led to
feel guilt about the very fact of our existence.
Notwithstanding all claims about our living in a
post-Christian world devoid of censorious public morality, we in fact live in a world that
carries around an enormous and growing burden of guilt, and yearns—sometimes even
demands—to be free of it. … Indeed, it is impossible to exaggerate
how many of the deeds of individual men and women can be traced back to the powerful and
inextinguishable need of human beings to feel morally justified, to feel themselves to be
"right with the world." One would be right to expect that such a powerful need, nearly as
powerful as the merely physical ones, would continue to find ways to manifest itself, even
if it had to do so in odd and perverse ways.
I won't spoil the whole
thing, but he goes on to look at the various ways guilt, and the need for forgiveness and
justification, manifest themselves today. Naturally, as I read this during Holy Week, it
brought to mind the old, old gospel of the justification by faith in the redeeming death of
Jesus Christ.
Quick Links
Jesus Died to Redeem Our Sleep: How
our sinful struggle with sleep become a righteous rest.
The Death Row Basketball League: Always Playing
Against the Clock.
Scoot Over, That's My Seat: My spot in church is
more than just a thoughtless habit.
The calling of sinful man to faith in Jesus Christ
is identical with his calling to the community of Jesus Christ on the foundation of the
apostles and prophets, the community which is his body, the earthly-historical form of his
existence.
—Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics IV I
page 759
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