Last week I explored the phenomenon of “lazy brain” and how it informs our public discourse and our bonds one with another. This week I ponder what is at the root of that tendency.

I think it may be time to revive an old doctrine, promoted mostly in Reformed circles that is found among all Protestants and is grounded in theology of St. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas. This doctrine is undeniably evident: biblically, experientially, and theologically.

I am talking about the doctrine of “total depravity.”

While Augustine does not use the term itself, his writings—particularly Confessions—suggest a view of human nature as fundamentally flawed and in need of divine intervention, which later theologians would interpret to articulate the doctrine of total depravity. Aquinas similarly acknowledges the effects of original sin on human nature, but argues that humans retain rationality and free will, which, while damaged, are not altogether destroyed by sin.[1] John Calvin honed the concept that has since been bequeathed to Reformed theology as it is understood today. He argues in his Institutes that sin affects all parts of our being, leaving us incapable of moving towards God without divine grace. He bases this on Romans 3:10-11, “There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands; there is no one who seeks God.”

I remember when our oldest son and I read through the Bible in a year for the first time. We read at the pace of about 3 or 4 chapters a day and we would talk about what we had read.

One morning, as I was coming in from getting the morning paper (remember when they threw it on the sidewalk or on your porch?), my son said, “Dad, did you read those chapters in Judges today?[2] That is really gross. Why is that in the Bible?” He was referring to the moral decay and unsavory bloodshed that defined those days of the Judges when “Israel had no king; [and] everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”

“Son,” I said, “Let’s look at the morning paper,” whereupon we had no problem finding stories about gang violence, war, violence against starving refugees, and the like.

The Bible, I believe, is the only holy book that is honest and explicit about human depravity or sin. Even its greatest heroes, like David, are scoundrels and terrible sinners. Humans are all fallen in all dimensions of their humanity: thoughts, emotions, desires, and even bodies. We are fallen in all dimensions of our lives.

And yet, each one of us bears the image of God. In keeping with the thoughts of Aquinas on the matter, we are all carrying around the beautiful and sacred divine image tarnished, but never completely destroyed by sin. God is in us! Such a mystery.

And this brings me to the reason I broach this topic. Our society, as reflected in public discourse, soaked in insecurity and anger, pushes us to put all people, decisions, and actions in one of two camps: good or bad. Friend or enemy. Righteous or evil. Complex issues that require nuance and reflection have become either-or. But we live in a fallen world where people and decisions can sometimes be both-and. We are simul justus et peccator. (“At the same time both sinner and saint.”)

Each person we meet is both made in the image of God and likewise depraved—or bent, to borrow from C. S. Lewis—in every human capacity or dimension. I am no better than the worst and no worse than the best. We are all sinners saved by grace and so we ask God to “forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.” It is the core of the Gospel and the foundation for community.

Churches are splitting and colleagues and families are dividing because we have lost the ability to listen to one another, forgive, confess, and compromise. Accepting the clear-eyed doctrine of depravity makes it easier to live a life that is able to make holy compromises: There is no perfect conversation or decision. So why do we draw lines of division around those with whom we don’t fully agree?

Is it fear? Or is it an inability to speak honest words without getting angry? And why does anger predominate these interactions and relationships? Anger is having a fruitful season in our churches and in our larger society.

The culture is moving so fast, and social media only accelerates and magnifies anger, division, and sometimes violence. This pace does not allow the effects of human sin to be stilled and quenched by the power of grace; it does not allow for the time to be still, to reflect on our own sin, and seek peace with God and with one another. Though Augustine understood depravity as the flawed nature of all aspects of our humanity, he focused more on the necessity of grace. When I draw close to God, I realize my sin, and this causes me to appreciate much more his grace. Confession is one way we affirm the doctrine of total depravity while leveraging it to realize grace.

Silence. Self-reflection. Confession. Listen. Silence.

“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love;
According to your abundant mercy, blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin!
For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.
Against you, you only have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight.
So that you are justified in your sentence, and blameless in your judgment . . .”
Psalm 51:1-4

[1] Summa Theologica, I-II, Q. 85, A. 2-3
[2] Judges 19-21 (ESV)

Dr. Scott W. Sunquist, President of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, is author of the “Attentiveness” blog. He welcomes comments, responses, and good ideas.