Total Depravity Vs. Utter Depravity and Why It Matters for Evangelism

I am not opposed to theological categories. They can often be very helpful to describe your biblical position--or at least provide a starting point. Granted--when I tell someone I'm "reformed" regarding salvation or "baptist" regarding believers baptism  or "continuationist" regarding the work of the Holy Spirit--I am eager to describe what I mean by that--and hopefully point people to the Bible in my defense and not contemporary teachers or famous dead ones.

But some theological language isn't always helpful. I feel this way about the concept of "total depravity." Generally speaking this doctrine is intended to communicate what the Bible describes as the far-reaching effects of sin--or the pervasiveness of sin. This maintains that the original sin of Adam has a cosmic effect touching everything and every person--right down to the conflicts of desires. In other words--the depravity of sin is total--everywhere and everyone--no exceptions. I believe the Bible teaches this.

However, the truth of the "total" effect of sin is sometimes mistakenly understood as "utter depravity." This would mean not only is the depravity of sin pervasive--touching everything--but that it touches everything equally--in the worst possible way. In total depravity all men are bad. In utter depravity all men are as bad as they possibly could be. I don't believe the Bible teaches this.

What's wrong with that? 

Well. A lot. But essentially, the problem with affirming the utter depravity of man is that you must deny certain aspects of God's grace. Utter or absolute depravity denies the grace of God's active goodness toward man and in man--restraining the effects of sin in a thousand ways--and revealing his glory to those he created. It assumes no difference between wickedness in seed form--from wickedness actualized and freely committed by those who reject God's constant goodness toward them. To be utterly depraved means not only that all men choose sin, but that all men freely choose sin equally--and in the same measure.

Utter depravity tends to deny that men are still created in the image of God. That the pinnacles of God's creation--made just a little lower than the angels--are greatly flawed because of sin--but are nevertheless glorious and endowed with enormous potential for good. It can even deny God's loving posture to pour out protection, comfort, and revelation on all men "day after day" (Ps. 19:2). It forgets that God's plan was not to destroy an utterly depraved people when they sinned, but to send his Son into his creation to restore the broken image of God in man.

Why does this matter in terms of evangelism? 

In his book The Celtic Way of Evangelism: How Christianity Can Reach the West...Again, George Hunter describes Celtic Christianity as having an "optimism about human nature...[seeing people] created in God's image...only a little lower than the angels and are crowned with glory and honor." Celtic Christianity viewed "human nature not as being radically tainted by sin and evil, intrinsically corrupt and degenerate, but as imprinted with the image of God, full of potential and opportunity, longing for completion and perfection."

Hunter goes on to say that "Celtic Christianity's theological optimism about human nature cannot adequately account for the Holocaust and the many other cases of genocide and man's inhumanity to man." He adds, "Augustine's doctrine of human nature does more adequately account for large-scale depravity and for much else that has gone terribly wrong" but at the same time, Hunter appeals "it is possible to observe, in most people, both sin and goodness."

As he reflects upon the way in which Celtic Christianity would enter a pagan town or village--he described this optimism. Because they had a strong understanding of the doctrine of man as created in the image of God, they believed they were joining God in his mercies and would find fresh ways to engage the culture they were in. They "studied the host culture and affirmed and built on every indigenous feature that they could." They sought "not to destroy, but to fulfill their religious tradition" believing God to be previously at work in many wonderful ways.

The way we view fallen people made in the image of God really matters. Hunter comments, "my interviews with converts indicate that, for many people, becoming a Christian involves experiences of being rescued and experiences of being completed...Celtic Christian movement suggests that it is often more effective to begin with people at the point of their goodness, however latent, than to initially engage people as sinners."


I wonder if this isn't true for most people who can remember their conversion.

All men are sinful. Depraved. Pervasively so.

But sometimes when we share the gospel we can start with the fall of Genesis 3, and forget the good creation of man in Genesis 1 by a holy and purposeful God. Hunter challenges us to not let the overdone "positive" view of man cause us to swing so far that we no longer affirm God's goodness in man wherever we can.

The good news is that God didn't give up on man "for the Son of Man came to seek and save the lost (Luke 19:10)." He made a way for his image-bearers to return to him--to redeem the glory we've all forsaken. We know this because Paul said, "when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons (Galatians 4:4-5 ESV)."

We should talk like that.

Re-amaze the Amazement

Sometimes I am amazed at my lack of amazement.

Let me explain.

As a pastor I find myself talking about spiritual things a lot. I mean a lot. Like sometimes all day. Now--don't get me wrong. This is a calling. I'm grateful. I believe it's a gift. But sometimes I can be sharing something of eternal significance and feel very casual about the matter. Not at the level of faking it--just not overwhelmed by the reality. If you can imagine a tour guide at the Grand Canyon who can get more excited about the lunch hour pudding cup--then you get the dilemma.

There is an old phrase that goes like this..

Familiarity breeds contempt. 

I think my familiarity with Jesus sometimes breeds contempt. The other morning I read these words.  

 The hairs of his head were white, like white wool, like snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire, his feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the roar of many waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, from his mouth came a sharp two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining in full strength.
(Revelation 1:14-16 ESV)

I don't know about you, but I don't normally think of Jesus this way. Oh...I have plenty of pictures in my mind. Ask me to describe Jesus and I might talk about a child being held by a teenage girl, a boy teaching adults in a temple, a Rabbi preaching from a boat, a miracle worker distributing bread, a Savior weeping in a garden, a Lamb dying in our place, or a Victor leaving an empty tomb. I might even talk about the ascension of Jesus that left his disciples gazing up--and how he poured his Spirit out on the church and lives to give grace to his disciples. All these scenes are glorious. I may even be able to give you some chapters and verses to win your confidence. But I don't think the first place I would go is the last place the Bible leaves us with.  I don't think I would quickly reflect about a face shining like the noon day sun in full strength. When I tell my kids about Jesus, I've never thought we should probably go outside and stare at the sun for a while--or until Mom gets mad.

 When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. 

You have got to love this honesty. John was the one who laid his head against the chest of Jesus. He's the one who had the nerve to ask Jesus if he could sit at the head of the table when he established his kingdom. Now he sees the King and he goes down like a sack of potatoes. No high fives. No requests. No concern about being top dog. He just lays there at the feet of Jesus--waiting for Jesus to make the next move. Moreover, the scene doesn't surprise us. It's not like we read this and want to whisper, "pssst...John...bro....get up. seriously...this is embarrassing." Rather we're saying, "good call. I totally get it. Let me join you."

But he laid his right hand on me, saying, “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades. Write therefore the things that you have seen, those that are and those that are to take place after this.
(Revelation 1:17-19 ESV)

 It's right here that we get good news. Where the blazing holiness of Jesus makes John fall down, his perfect love picks him back up. Jesus places his right hand on John and speaks familiar words to his disciple, "fear not." Peace could not arrive any quicker than through hearing those two words. Why? Not because there's nothing to be terrified of--but because John is his friend. Jesus reminds his friend that he is the first and the last--the living one--and that his transcendent glory is not bigger than his immanent grace. Notice he's not one of many--but the definitive living one who actually died--not "as though dead" but truly dead--and never to be dead again.

And then he says "look at me" or "behold I am alive forevermore (v. 18)" as if to say "take this in, John--this is the extent of my love and glory. I've got the keys of Death! Death can't lock me up because I locked it up. Hell can't conquer me because I stormed the gates and won."

A.W. Tozer once said, "What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us." If that's true--I need this image of Jesus--this final revelation of Christ--to be bigger in my life. I need his shining face to melt through my casualness. I need those five words, "behold I am alive forevermore" to re-amaze the amazement.

Pickles and War Stories

Last week our church planned neighborhood football watching parties for the Cowboys kickoff. We had a spontaneous move of locations to a back club house in in our neighborhood because our friends couldn't host because of a sick child. When I called the HOA to see if we could move it to the club house they said the condition was that we invite the whole community to it. No problem! This was an unexpected opportunity to potentially see many more people come.

I was dreaming big and praying for courage to invite a room full of strangers to Guest Sunday and the Bridge Course next Thursday. I was nervous with that familiar feeling when I have no idea who will show up, how the conversations will go, and when I know God is asking me to be social and extroverted when I really just want to be alone on my couch—and not a smiley preacher.

God had different plans.

Maybe it was the last minute email that went out or the location. Maybe nobody likes that particular clubhouse. Maybe it’s that the TV isn’t HD. Maybe nobody likes the Cowboys in my neighborhood. But my idea of having a bunch of guests turned into having one guest.

One guy.

One dude with a plate full of pickles and cheese.

I felt a strange mixture of disappointment and relief at the same time—and a pinch of guilt about both.

So there we were—the Tombrellas, the Dickersons, and a 67 year old man sharing a feast while the game echoed in the near empty clubhouse.

But I learned last night that God was answering my prayer in a very different way. As we got to know him we learned that he had a story to tell—many actually.

He told us how he was shot down twice in countries denied by most history books—surviving when other soldiers died. He crash landed once after enemy fire. He knew General Chuck Yeager (of the movie The Right Stuff) on a first name basis because he was his flight engineer. He almost died in Nicaragua when a mig had missile lock on him. He told me other tragedies he experienced in war I’ve never personally heard from a veteran.

I mostly listened. Nodding my head and saying the kind of things one says when you have almost no reference point.

“Wow.”

“Amazing.”

“Really?”

“hmmm.”

Around the third quarter he began to talk about religion. I held back a nervous smile because I found it comical. Up until this time my evangelism skills consisted of watching football, eating cheese, commenting on the Cowboys, and listening to war stories. As a complete stranger he told me his opinions on the matter unprovoked…

“I believe in God…I believe in a higher power…I mean..no one-no one has the right to tell another person who he is…”

“the Bible is just a book about man….man wrote it. God didn’t write the Bible.”

“I mean…why do you have to pray to Jesus…what is that all about? I know God my way…and you can know God your way…and that’s that..”

“I don’t believe in hell…I’ve been to hell…this is hell now…”

It was getting intense. It was one of those moments I wish I wasn’t a pastor. I was feeling a bit like Undercover Boss at the reveal if he asks me what I “do.”

In times like these I’ve found the best thing to do is not argue for the validity of Scripture or some apologetic point, or some doctrine—but just talk about the person of Jesus. So I did.

I shared that I was a Christian and how the gospels talk about Jesus…and that he is the one who says he’s the only way to know God and sends us out to tell the world.  I honestly don’t think I did a great job—but I was aware of God’s help—and how he was giving me courage and strength.

The courage for strength to invite a room full of people to church and the Bridge Course turned into courage to talk to one person about the Bridge Course.

“I think your perspective would be really valuable at this class I’d like you to consider coming. We don’t have any combat veterans.”

“I will think about it. I don’t have any problem telling people what I think…so long as they know where I’m coming from.”

I walked to my car with the seeds of gratitude that God allowed me the opportunity to share his love with a man he created in his image, and protected and pursued in grace throughout his fascinating life—even though it wasn’t what I had planned.

I was also thankful the Cowboys won…