What's Theology Got to Do with It?

Tamed Cynic is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and all content, consider becoming a paid subscriber.

Here’s one of our recent Monday night sessions, discussing our friend Tony’s great book, What’s Theology Got to Do with It?

In talking about the humanity of God, Tony shared about a particularly harrowing time as a father. It’s a vulnerable and hopeful story so give it a listen.

From that section of his book, Tony writes:

If we do not face up to our own brokenness, however, we cannot appropriate the real blessings of God’s embrace of our full humanity in Jesus. Or to put it in a more positive way, by his full embrace of our finite and limited humanity, Jesus makes of our humanity a blessing and not a curse.

We need not flee the inherent vulnerability of being human in order to follow Jesus. Or to put it a slightly different way, the world is not divided between the sinful and the virtuous. It divides between those who are aware of their sin and their need for grace and those who are without awareness of their true condition.

When the awareness that we all stand in need of grace is absent, it fundamentally skews the ministry and health of the church. We become blind to our own need for forgiveness and healing. We pretend that we have it together. We are happy (or not) to help others, but we need no real help ourselves, thanks very much! In this view, Christians are better sorts of people, not sinners in need of God and God’s grace. Author, theologian, and teacher Roberta Bondi says that all too often the church permits and encourages us to be our “noble selves,” “our cleaned up and socially presentable selves.” That is not without value. We do need to be reminded of our better natures.

But there is a problem with an unrelieved emphasis on our noble selves. It does not so readily invite and include our real selves. And, observes Bondi, the real us is who God wants and who God loves. In Christ, God has embraced our real and full humanity, warts and all.

What became evident in the course of our family’s experience with mental illness is a pattern of cover-up in the church. We pretend to be okay. We cover up our own brokenness and sin. Our family realized we too had lived, in some measure at least, with the myth of the perfect family. Such pretense was no longer an option. We clung to grace. We drew near to the crucified and risen Christ in new ways.

When our family shared our experience in what I hope were judicious and appropriate ways, and others came forward to speak about their similar experiences, unexpected things began to happen. Honesty and intimacy in the congregation moved to a deeper level. The congregation’s caring shifted somehow from what might be called “we strong people will care for you needy people;” to “we are one another’s companions in the midst of life’s challenges.” Moreover, this more authentic type of community and bringing our fuller selves to God and to one another eventually led to an amazing new congregational ministry.

Leave a comment

Share