“Self-defense is the most prevalent source of error in our thinking.” That’s a quote from the theologian H. Richard Niebuhr (brother of the more famous Reinhold Niebuhr).
What does it mean? Why does it matter? “Self-defense” might also be termed “self-justification.” It means making the case for yourself, for your importance, worthiness, value, etc.
I bring it up because it’s something that Donald Trump does pretty much endlessly. Think “crowd-size.” “I had the biggest crowd ever!” Or think his recent remarks about abortion. “I fixed it. Everyone said it couldn’t be done. I did it.” Or, “I had the best economy ever.” And now, “Everyone says I won the debate,” referring to the Sept. 10 debate with Kamala Harris.
But it’s not just the former President. We get caught up in our own self-defense and self-justifications. It happens in personal relationships, often with those closest to us. We try to make our own case over against our spouse, the in-laws, a brother or sister, the neighbors, other people by referencing our own virtues, generosity and tireless contributions, etc., etc. We mostly run this tape in our minds. But occasionally it bursts out of our mouths in a self-justifying rant when we feel put upon, unloved, unappreciated, or unnoticed.
Does it work? Nope. It doesn’t ever achieve what we hope, which is peace of mind. It only makes us sound, and feel, small and peevish while adding to the sadness of the world. Unless, of course, you are a narcissist, for whom self-justification is your stock-in-trade (see above).
What’s the alternative to trying to justify ourselves, to making our own case? A practice which, by the way, inevitably results in dividing the world into the good and the bad, into “us” and “them.” Today, we call that “polarization.”
The Christian message is that we are justified by God’s grace alone. We cannot justify ourselves by our works, effort, resume, or the group to which we belong. We are justified by God’s free gift of grace. The gift of God’s mercy and grace is the ground upon which we stand. The classic text is from Paul’s letter to the Church at Rome. “Since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 3: 23).
A less abstract statement of the same thing is found in Jesus’ famous parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Luke 18: 9-14). The Pharisee advances to the front of the temple where he prays in a way that enumerates his virtues. “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.” His prayer is a textbook illustration of self-justification.
Meanwhile, at the back of the Temple barely in the door, the tax-collector (a Jew complicit with the Romans and thus a traitor, treated with disgust and disdain by people like the Pharisee) prayed only, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”
Jesus wraps up the story by saying that it was the tax-collector who, “went down to his home justified rather than the other.” Justification (peace inside your own skin) comes by God’s grace, not be a self-justifying list of one’s good deeds or by comparison to other people.
Of course this is sometimes forgotten in actual churches. We celebrate our good works, our enlightened views or our correct faith. Sadly, this combines with looking down on others just as the Pharisee compared himself favorably to the tax-collector. “Thank God, I’m not like him! Thank God, we’re not like them!”
We often think of church as a place, to quote my friend Jason Micheli, for “good people to become better,” rather than “bad people trying to cope with their failures to be good.” It’s what Francis Spufford has in mind in UnApologetic, where he terms the church “the international league of the guilty.” The heart of our faith, and the good news of the gospel, is God’s grace for sinners, for flawed and imperfect people, who regularly screw up — which would be all of us.
Niebuhr had it right, if in a scholarly, understated sort of way: “self-defense is the most prevalent source of error in our thinking.” We are justified, that is put right — another Bible word is “reconciled” — to God and our neighbor not by our virtues and achievements, but by grace, by God’s gift of mercy to broken, flawed people.
That’s funny. I do not in my nearly 70 years recall anyone mentioning any concerns about sin, or what God might think about them. Likely some of them do this on special occasions where I’m not around, but … normal people really sweat that in their daily lives?
Trump, Vance et al. are politicians, operating something a lot like a circus act. Professional wrestling would be as good a basis for understanding the dilemmas we all struggle with.
Seems to me, as a dedicated non-Christian, that those who rely on saying “I’m a sinner, I have always been a sinner, we are all sinners…. but I’m really really sorry and Jesus Christ will forgive me as long as I ask for mercy” – abdicate any personal responsibility for their actions and the consequences of those actions. With Trump it’s even worse – he boasts about his sins, yet the Christian view is that they are forgiven even though he hasn’t ever owned up to them! He’s proud of his sins! Your statement: “The heart of our faith, and the good news of the gospel, is God’s grace for sinners, for flawed and imperfect people, who regularly screw up — which would be all of us.” I strongly disagree. It’s not all of us who “regularly screw up.” And who decides what that even means? Have I screwed up in my many decades of life? Sure I have. But regularly? No sir I haven’t. And have I expected “forgiveness” unless it’s been earned with meaningful repentance? No sir I haven’t. Hard lessons learned require more than “I’m a sinner and I need God’s grace.” They should lead to some self-improvement and taking full responsibility for one’s actions both past and present.
Yeah, it kind of looks like that – in the classic version, you’d get your sins absolved directly through the same priesthood that initially sold you all that sin stuff.
But it’s kind of unclear what exactly that means. I mean, if you were someone who subscribed to it all. I mean, let’s say you ran into E Jean Carroll somewhere and just couldn’t resist the urge to rape her. Now you’ve got a problem, but you can square it with Jesus.
Well, maybe. But “Jesus said it’s cool” doesn’t square it up with anyone else, and whatever Jesus’ status may be, all those other people are real.
My theory is that it’s an essentially parallel system. It used to be clearer back when they promised heavenly rewards or tortures of hell, which I guess that became a little too transparent, but in any case you wouldn’t want to get on God’s bad side, right?
Parallel, but may serve as a sort of model you could apply in the real world. Having convinced yourself that Jesus forgave you for various things, I guess you could sort of be inspired by example to forgive others, and maybe in the same way they’d be more forgiving. Sweet, isn’t it? But muddled.
For me, Buddhism has for various reasons developed a much more rigorous and satisfying philosophical perspective on matters like this. In their version, as I understand it (and I’m no Buddhist), you forgive for your own benefit, and it doesn’t matter if the offender has repented or not. Forgiveness is just clearing the mind of poisonous resentment. As for your own acts, well, they have consequences and there’s really nothing to be done about that, so the best you can do is act better in the future.