Sin, Redemption, & Salvation

Sin. To miss the mark. To sin implies there was an aim, and to have an aim is good. Why then is sin experienced as so shameful? I’ve always been taught that shame is toxic and has no good utility. Yet, the reactions I get from those who know my sins—who have usually been the casualties of my sins—are, more often than not, in fact, shaming. Such shaming typically comes in the form of moral contempt and moral superiority. Even worse, it comes in the form of withdrawal from me, particularly a withdrawal from my humanity. Withdrawn from me is also my access to them. This is understandable, for violations of trust are painful. Yet, I am still left to figure out what to do with my sins. Perhaps shame persists because we are left alone to deal with our sins, and left to our own devices with them, shame festers. This is not to blame the victim. Rather, it is an advocation for a chance at redemption. And this is difficult! To advocate for a chance for redemption through a plea to the one with whom my transgressions harmed means overcoming the obstacles of shame and diminished worth.

Now, this is not to dismiss responsibility for my actions. On the contrary, it means taking on a greater degree of responsibility, for redemption is ours to manifest and no one else’s. Even as we advocate for a chance at redemption, we will likely bring the recipients of our harm face to face with their own pain of the situation. And this could be considered harming them once more. Perhaps the difference is that we are now doing it consciously and with a more determined aim to hit the mark. Well, such an attempt means another chance to miss the mark, to sin. So it seems sin is inevitable, and the shame that follows will always be on standby. Yet, to avoid redemption is a greater sin than missing the mark—it is a sin of omission. I am thereby placed in an impossible situation in which I cannot be free of sin.

What is salvation? Is it freedom through redemption? Or is it forgiveness? Perhaps it is peace gained through the acceptance that, through our aims, we are doomed to fail, and in that failure, we discover the meaning of existence. In other words, maybe salvation is a knowing, a knowing that we will lose faith and waiver, that we cannot possibly know grace until we know the worst of ourselves. Well, this is not pleasant, isn’t it? This is not what we were taught in Sunday school. There seems to be much more than merely accepting Christ into our hearts, as if it is a one-and-done thing. No! It turns out that it is unspeakably difficult to accept Christ. To accept him is to accept the moral of the story, which is to carry the biggest cross you can find. And as the story goes, at the peak of our agony—which is a result of accepting Christ—we lose faith. This loss of faith is a direct result of aiming at something good; it is what predicates the descent into Hell. Hell. Hell is where we face the worst of ourselves, our darkest shadows, which is just as much of who we are as the good aspects. Oh, but Hell is meant for the sinners! I didn’t see that one coming. Perhaps Hell is where we are also faced with the not-so-easy choice of nihilism or meaning. Sometimes Hell is simply having our capacity for nihilism revealed to us. And that is most certainly unpleasant. Finally, maybe Hell is most intense when we courageously stare into the reflections of our shadow projected by the pain of the loved ones with whom we transgressed.

So, salvation. It seems to be the case that patience and faith are required of us. I’ve already discovered that our aims often lead us to the depths that demand the last drop of love and courage. These four principles—patience, faith, love, and courage—must be practiced to find salvation. But, of course, to practice them suggests that we are not where we need to be and that, to get there, we must master those principles. Once we make it to the other side of our sins, which means to get a little closer to the mark, we are not absolved of our responsibilities, but rather we are elevated to a higher aim. What a curious paradox! Our sins have moved us higher?! How so? It is because what emerges as a result of bettering our aim is hero status, and people need heroes. Therefore, heroes are not born because they are perfect; they are reborn, and that is because they have been to Hell and now know a better Way. Salvation is not a result of having transcended our sins, rather, our sins transcend us towards higher aims.