4. GROWTH: A Cunning Snake Whispers That We Don’t Need to Change

Are Humans Badly Programmed Robots?

Some have a very pessimistic view of man. They think that human beings are totally depraved and that they can never improve. A dark view of man makes the light of grace shine brighter, they believe.

But if man is a hopeless case, it is not his fault that he is the way he is. Then he is like an animal who cannot be held responsible for his actions. By denying responsibility, sin is eliminated. A wrongly programmed robot has no need to ask for forgiveness. This is hardly what the Christian belief in grace is about.

Recognising your helplessness, powerlessness and inability is one thing. Recognising your sins is quite another. It is important not to confuse the two. Suppose someone prays like this: ”Alas, I am a slave to my desires and cannot do right!” That is not a confession of sin. It is not a sin to be helpless. A helpless person should ask for help, not forgiveness.

The embarrassing thing is that we sometimes make mistakes when we are perfectly capable of doing the right thing. Often it is not difficult at all, and many times it is entirely our own fault. A prayer for forgiveness is only meaningful if you take responsibility for your mistakes. Some people take the easy way out. Instead of admitting their mistakes (which can be quite painful), they admit their inability and powerlessness (which is often a pleasant exercise in self-pity).

If you are helpless, ask for help – not forgiveness. If you have done wrong, seek forgiveness – not excuses. This distinction is key to growth, because it sharpens our understanding of what is truly our responsibility.

Yet the language of human agency and freedom sometimes provokes anxiety in certain churches. Critics argue that it may encourage people to take credit for their good deeds – and thus fall into pride. In response, they construct a theology that emphasises human weakness and the absence of free will.

The idea is that by emphasising human weakness, you deepen dependence on a powerful God. But the same move can also create a longing for powerful authoritarian leaders.

When people are taught that they cannot govern themselves, they may soon begin looking for someone else to do it for them.

A Dangerous Derailment

There are two traps to avoid. The first is to believe that you must be strong, virtuous and successful in order to be accepted and 'saved'. This is conditional love. It leads to stress and performance anxiety because you can never know if you are good enough.

The second trap is that you have to be weak, failed and generally miserable to be accepted. This is also conditional love. It frightens people into passivity and prevents them from growing and developing. “Strength comes, strength wanes. God's love eternally remains” – that is true unconditional love!

For some, the gospel – the good news – is that God expects nothing of us human beings. Nothing good can come from us, so self-confidence is sinful pride. Trusting in God and using reason become two things that do not go together. Personal development becomes a dangerous thing.

Is this the worship of an unloving God? True love ought to inspire, not oppress. Rather than being a source of stress, high expectations can be uplifting. Trust in God can be combined with healthy self-confidence.

We humans are created with the ability to develop good qualities such as reason and empathy. Paradoxically, this is what makes us sinners. The problem is that we don’t develop and use these abilities as much as we should. Or we use them in the wrong way.

What happens when people are frightened into passivity and do not dare to mature and develop? What is the consequence when faith is only about resting in a nice and cosy feeling? It feels liberating to avoid personal responsibility. It feels good to avoid repentance. It feels peaceful to rest in the pleasant illusion of being humble.

People turn to God for peace of mind and tranquillity of heart. Many want it to be as easy as pressing a button. They do not understand that they have to deal with inner chaos and create inner order.

‘Cheap grace is grace without discipleship,’ Bonhoeffer told Lutherans in Germany in the 1930s. ‘Cheap grace is the mortal enemy of our church.’ To his horror, he saw how easy it was for the Nazis to manipulate them. He believed that the only way for them to wake up from their moral complacency was a heightened sense of ultimate responsibility before God.

Those who downplay the importance of following Christ cannot build resilience against the Faustian bargain.

The Serpent and The Grand Inquisitor

Man’s big problem is original sin: the pleasure of doing bad things. Typical examples are bullying, revenge fantasies, schadenfreude, mockery – and the intoxicating lust for power. Evil acts are not perceived as evil because they are pleasurable. It is easy to like evil. Is there anyone who is completely free of it?

A cunning serpent whispers in your ear: ”All your pleasant feelings are good feelings!” He wants to convince us that this is not a problem at all. We are good just the way we are. We should affirm our inner nature and not pretend. ”What feels natural must be right,” it whispers. ”This is the same as being authentic and true to yourself!”

The Grand Inquisitor is a legend told in Dostoyevsky’s novel The Brothers Karamazov. It is about a meeting between Christ and an old inquisitor who organised the burning of heretics in Spain in the 16th century.

The Inquisitor accused Christ of not heeding the 'wise and terrible spirit' he had encountered in the desert. This, the Inquisitor declared, was a grave mistake. He should not have resisted the temptations of power.

The Inquisitor hurled accusations against Christ. The evil spirit, he declared, possessed a deeper understanding of human nature. Voluntarily choosing good is beyond human capacity. People do not want freedom, he argued. They crave bread, spectacle and authority. They long to be told what to think, what to believe and how to live. They crave a grand, theatrical display of power. The Church, he insisted, must adapt the Christian faith to people's weaknesses.

You have inflicted a cruel and unnecessary burden upon humanity, the Inquisitor explained to Christ. A life of voluntary discipleship is too difficult for most people. We, the Church, must correct your error, he said. We must be merciful to people and lift this heavy burden of freedom, this agonising responsibility. We need to give them what they want most of all: security.

Throughout this impassioned tirade, Christ watched the Inquisitor without saying a word. When the Inquisitor finally finished, he expected a response, an argument, a refutation. Instead, Christ approached him slowly and, to the old man's utter astonishment, kissed him gently on his lips. The Inquisitor shuddered. “Go,” he said, “go, and return no more... do not come again... never, never!”