Worth and worship

Yesterday I reflected on the complex proposition that the Bible offers, that we are on one hand totally depraved, corrupted by sin in all areas of our lives, yet also made in the image of God and, in God’s eyes, worth being redeemed. I know that this idea is one which may offend a typical Calvinist position, and I am wary myself of how far we push it. But the alternative position is an odd one: we emphasise how unworthy we are of God’s grace (which we are) to the point that we potentially argue it was idiocy for God to redeem us. God has sacrificed everything for our redemption; surely He would consider this to be worthwhile?

But I want to look more today at what our response should be. Self-esteem teaching would say, “Let’s focus on our worth. Let’s tell ourselves how wonderful we are in God’s eyes.” This, I think, is missing the point. It simply makes an idol of self and uses God’s redemption as a means to further worship that idol. In actual fact, it misses the point altogether of redemption.

So what is the purpose, then, of redemption? Is it forgiveness of sins? Is it payment of the price of our sin? Yes, and yes. But more. Redemption salvages us from the scrap heap, not so that we can feel good about ourselves now, but so that we will never stop praising the one who salvaged us. If I view my redemption purely in terms of what it does for me, I will pretend to worship God but will essentially only be worshipping myself. If I view redemption in terms of the way that it brings me into relationship with my creator, then I either need to fall on my knees worshipping Him or I don’t really get what was so wonderful about redemption in the first place.

God did see us as worth redeeming; but this should be a humbling thing to realise, not a boost to our self-esteem. And, in the end, if we truly get what God has done for us, we will be consumed in adoration of Him.

Tim Keller, who is one of the 21st century’s foremost analysts of misplaced worship, has noted that, in Old English, the word “worship” came from “worth-ship”. That is, when we worship something, we acknowledge its worth and act in response to this. In other words, he says that to worship something is to treasure it.

When I treasure something, I longingly look at it, for example, in the store window and think about how great it would be to own it. I ponder its virtues, talk to my friends about how great it is. Then I go out and buy it.

Worship is treasuring God: I ponder his worth and then do something about it—I give him what he's worth. (Tim Keller, 1995, Changing Lives Through Preaching and Worship)

In the end, what we are worth matters far, far less than what God is worth. And realising that, and responding to it – that is worship.

Totally depraved, wonderfully made

For some time now, my mind has been crunching over the idea of total depravity and its implications for self-esteem, which, at the secular end of the scale, is based on the humanistic belief that "people are fundamentally good" or, in its Christian formulation, is based on the belief that "God does not make junk".

Theologians who have articulated what total depravity means in regards to the love of God will formulate the idea through examples of people loving the utterly unlovable. My theology-student housemate describes the typical Calvinist position in terms of God being like the father of an axe-murderer: though the son is utterly unloveable, the father loves him nonetheless, not at all because of anything that he is or does but because he chooses to love him. This isn't to say that the axe-murderer son has no qualities. But, where secular counselling for instance might emphasise appealing to the son's deeper good, a more theologically reformed view might appeal instead to the radical nature of a love which accepts him despite how reprehensible he is and everything he represents.

For those among us, however, who struggle with self-esteem, we are presented perhaps with a problem. Many will try to cheer up someone who is down on themselves with encouraging words about how good that person is - and I am a little dubious about how appropriate this is as a way of encouraging. Isn't it more powerful to say, "God loves you regardless of your flaws?" On the other hand, as a notorious self-condemner, I know that I buy into a lot of lies about myself. When I condemn myself, it isn't necessarily because of a healthy view of my own sinfulness but because I listen to voices that tell me I am worthless - and, whatever the Bible says about our depravity, it never once says that we are worthless.

Take as an example the master craftsmen who goes into an antique store and buys the thing that everyone else rejected in order to restore it. If he denied that it was damaged or totally in need of repair, he would be having himself on. But this is not the same as saying that it is only worthy of the scrap heap. This is not how God sees us; if it were, He would never have gone to Calvary for us. But He does see that, without His intervention, the scrap heap is the only place we will ultimately be going.

There is a subtle distinction within reformed theology between being totally depraved and utterly depraved, and this distinction might be helpful here. R.C. Sproul articulates it like this:

We must be careful to note the difference between total depravity and "utter" depravity. To be utterly depraved is to be as wicked as one could possibly be. Hitler was extremely depraved, but he could have been worse than he was. I am sinner. Yet I could sin more often and more severely than I actually do. I am not utterly depraved, but I am totally depraved. For total depravity means that I and everyone else are depraved or corrupt in the totality of our being. There is no part of us that is left untouched by sin.

(Sproul, 1992, The Essential Truths of the Christian Faith)

So here the line that "God does not make junk" is perhaps worth reiterating, though it might be better reworded as "God does not redeem junk", or "God does not die to save junk". There may be nothing in me that is not corrupted by sin, but that does not mean that I am not still made in God's image. It does not mean that, when He looks at me, He does not see something worth redeeming.

We would do well to remember, I think, that the same book of the Bible which contains the words "Surely I was sinful at birth" (Psalm 51:5) also later declares, "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made" (Psalm 139:14). Both are true, and, praise God, in the death of Jesus, the tension that exists between the two is overcome. Like the fallen yet beautiful creation which God will restore, we too are fallen, yet beautiful, and by grace are being restored.