The Original Sin

Written in 2012, when living in the Dutch Reformed town of Pella, Iowa.

I thought it relevant to speak to a position that I do not inherently hold, but one that pervades the regional theology in which I now live. That is, the traditional Dutch Reformed interpretation of Original Sin and its implications for the human person.

Having recently moved from a predominantly Southern Baptist region (Oklahoma) into a small Dutch Reformed community in which Baptist manners and traditions are replaced with particular Dutch behaviors and conventions, I have become increasingly aware of how doctrinal commitments shape not only ecclesial life but cultural posture. One of the most dominant theological interpretations of the Dutch Reformed tradition is its insistence on the total depravity of man. That is, a seminal interpretation in which the imputation of original sin is passed down to Adam’s progeny through his seed.1

Original Sin

The Reformers, particularly Calvin and Luther, inherited this interpretive framework from Augustine of Hippo, who constructed a vision of human nature deeply marred by the story of the Fall in Genesis. Augustine came to believe that all humanity was caught in a condition he called massa damnata, a ‘mass of the damned, destined for judgment apart from God’s mercy. This view was, in many ways, a direct response to what he saw as an overly optimistic view of human nature in his opponents.

Whether his strong emphasis on inherited guilt was a necessary reading of Scripture or an overreaction to his pastoral concerns remains a matter of ongoing theological discussion. In light of the context that Augustine’s theological formation was shaped by the collapse of Rome and his prior alignment with Manichaeism and Neo-Platonism.

Manichaean dualism, which Augustine adhered to for nearly a decade, proposed a strict divide between light and darkness, spirit and matter. not a distortion of good or a spectrum of being, but a separate and eternal principle. Though Augustine ultimately turned away from Manichaean dualism, traces of its dark view of the human condition remained in his theology, particularly in how deeply he believed human beings were wounded by sin and unable to seek the good apart from God.

In Neo-Platonic thought, the soul’s ultimate goal was to return to a pure, spiritual source, ‘the One,' which meant distancing oneself from the physical world and its distractions. Augustine adopted parts of this framework when he became a Christian. It helped shape his view that sin is a matter of loving the wrong things in the wrong order, and that salvation is about reorienting our desires away from temporary, earthly attachments and toward the eternal and divine.2

Calvin, in particular, is definitive in his affirmation of total depravity. For Calvin, the sinner’s natural endowments of intelligence, will, and emotion are corrupted by sin. And his spiritual endowments of faith, love, and purity are altogether lost.3 This totality leaves no corner of the human person untouched by the fall of man, and propagates a doctrine of moral frailty but of spiritual ineptitude.

This interpretation of total depravity has vast implications for how the Church understands its identity and role in the world, explicitly in the Reformed Church's adherence to infant baptism. In true Augustinian fashion, infant baptism is not merely symbolic, but sacramental, that is, it is the action of baptism is participatory in the convection of God's grace. Infant baptism, then, is a divine act whereby the guilt of a child's inherited sin is lifted through the regeneration of the Holy Spirit, manifest in the holy sprinkling or immersion into water. This doctrine is not without its critics, as many rightly ask, "But what of the infants who die before they are baptized?"

Calvin smartly adds an addendum, which stipulates the regeneration of ‘elect’ infants through the secret work of the Holy Spirit.4 That is, divine election precedes and overrides sacramental participation.

L. Berkhof, writing in the early 20th century, sharpens the claim: from Adam, “sin flows on as an impure stream to all the generations of men, polluting everyone and everything with which it comes in contact.”5 The doctrine, as such, foreshadows a rather pessimistic worldview, one that paints a bleak picture of man without God. The consequence is a particularly aggressive style of proselytizing and evangelism, whereas the evangelist is overly concerned and responsible for your eternal judgment. An Original Sin stance creates an urgent need for a Savior to wash clean the sin that has stained our very genes (pun intended). A call to rescue not merely the guilty, and sinful, but the damned.

Reformed view, though urgent, may not be as theatrical as the Southern Baptists’ dispensational eschatology, which provokes a “Hell and Brimstone” evangelism tactic in which fear of judgment and an eternity of torment is the inciting incident. The difference may be tonal but meaningful: the Baptist tradition preaches toward the event of Hell; the Reformed tradition preaches from the condition of corruption. Both are deeply motivated by a sense of peril, but the theological roots are different, and create different orthopraxy and ecclesial life.

If I were to insert a personal reflection here, it would be of my youth and the differences in Youth Group practices by the aforementioned churches. As I had friends within a variety of Protestant practices, it was known that the Baptist Revivals, especially in the summer held between planting and harvesting, where focused entirely on the conversion of the lost, with alter calls and worship music lending toward the admittance of your depravity and need of a Saviour. 

**Just as I Am**

1: Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bid’st me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come! I come!

2: Just as I am, and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot;
To Thee whose blood can cleanse each spot,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!

3: Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt;
Fightings within, and fears without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!

4: Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind;
Sight, riches, healing of the mind;
Yes, all I need, in Thee to find,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!

5: Just as I am, Thou wilt receive,
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
Because Thy promise I believe,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!

6: Just as I am, Thy love unknown
Has broken every barrier down;
Now, to be Thine, yea, Thine alone,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!

Different than the Reformed position, which would be more subtle in their call for redemption and salvation, maybe leaning more towards a hymn like, All to Jesus, I Surrender. 

**All to Jesus I surrender**

1. All to Jesus I surrender,
All to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust Him,
In His presence daily live.

Chorus:
I surrender all,  
I surrender all.
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,    
I surrender all.

2: All to Jesus I surrender,
Humbly at His feet I bow,
Worldly pleasures all forsaken;
Take me, Jesus, take me now.

3: All to Jesus I surrender,
Make me, Savior, wholly Thine;
Let me feel Thy Holy Spirit,
Truly know that Thou art mine.

4: All to Jesus I surrender,
Lord, I give myself to Thee;
Fill me with Thy love and power,
Let Thy blessing fall on me.

5: All to Jesus I surrender,
Now I feel the sacred flame.
Oh, the joy of full salvation!
Glory, glory to His name!

Is Total Depravity the correct supposition?

Fred Craddock, writing from a Southern pastoral tradition, reminds us that the preacher must speak to both sin and image, both guilt and grace: “People are not so much sinners because they commit sins; they commit sins because they are sinners. But that is not the whole story. They are also created in the image of God, and the preacher must speak to both realities with truth and tenderness.”6

I love Fred Craddock's writing, but I think he is wrong here. I believe the doctrine of original sin and total depravity is more then flawed, I think it is wrong.

In Romans 5, Paul writes, “For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.”

This verse is perhaps the crux of the matter. As I have argued previously, Paul's Doctrine of Salvation is predicated on the doctrine of original sin, which is, perhaps, a flawed understanding of Jesus' words and actions in the Gospel accounts.

Those who espouse the doctrines of original sin and total depravity will lean heavily on the former part of Paul's words, emphasizing inherited guilt, but what if the emphasis is better placed on union with Christ, and not simply exoneration? If Jesus is asking for obedience to be made righteous, what exactly is that obedience?

C.S. Lewis notes in Mere Christianity that God is, "not content with making us decent; he intends to make us new creatures."7 If we take a step back from asking which Church holds the better stance on the doctrine of Original Sin, we may find ourselves asking if Original Sin is even the right theological position to hold at all. Are we truly depraved from the start?

Imago Dei

While the Reformed and Baptist traditions emphasize inherited guilt and the corruption of the will, the Eastern Orthodox Church presents a markedly different reading of the fall and its consequences. Rather than viewing Adam’s sin as imputed guilt to all humanity, the Eastern Orthodox describe original sin as the inheritance of death and potential of corruption. That is, Adam’s disobedience opened the door to mortality, and mortality in turn became the condition under which sin proliferates.

Humanity is not born guilty, but born into a world where the powers of death and disintegration are at work.

In this vision, salvation is not a legal pardon but a process of healing and change. As St. Athanasius wrote, “God became man so that man might become god,” not in essence, but in participation.12 The Eastern Orthodox emphasize restoration to the image and likeness of God through a union with Christ.

Not total depravity, but the view that the image of God is wounded, in need of healing, in the world in which we live.

This view avoids the stark determinism of inherited guilt and offers a more hopeful worldview. In the words of Kallistos Ware, “Original sin is not about inherited guilt, but about inherited brokenness.”9 Sin, then, is not a status of condemnation but a tragic wound, a sickness in need of a physician rather than a crime in need of punishment. Christ is not merely the judge who pronounces innocence, but the great Physician who binds up the wounds of creation.

Though polarizing, Jordan Pederson has given us a fresh perspective on the idea of total depravity both in his books and his Biblical series lectures in which he states, "

“The English word ‘sin’ found throughout the Old and New Testaments of the Bible comes from the Hebrew word khata, which is roughly translated as ‘to fail’ or ‘to miss the goal.’ It implies that it has something to do with aim or the lack thereof.”10

It isn't about being born into sin; rather, it is about missing the mark, or not aiming at your greatest good, or not achieving the best that you can. This seems to align more with Jesus' teachings, in that our choice is to follow him, to align ourselves with him, as he points to God. In that way, our aim is set towards God's best for humanity, for our neighbor, our family, and our own selves.

I can’t help but recall The Pilgrim’s Progress, in which Christian gathers burden after burden as he journeys toward the Celestial City. These burdens are consequences of missteps, fear, pride, or inherited brokenness, and threaten to halt his movement altogether. But when he finally asks for help, the weight falls from his shoulders. He is not condemned; he is relieved. Not by merit, but by mercy.

So it is with us. We carry the consequences of our choices, and yes, sometimes the choices of those who came before us. This inherited sin may keep us from experiencing life to the full, but it is not proof of our depravity. It is the echo of disordered priorities, of poor aim. The way forward is not through fear or shame, but through a reorientation toward Christ, who asks us not for perfection, but for surrender.

His call is simple, yet life-altering: lay down your selfish ambition and take up a life of service. Not to earn salvation, but to walk in the freedom of it. To be saved is not just to be spared; it is to be called into something bigger than yourself.

While I do not believe in total depravity or original sin as a foundational theological concept, I have met those who are depraved and steeped in sin. The thief on the cross was one of them, and even he stepped towards Christ and, with his last breath, found a way out of his depravity and into paradise.

  1. Demarest, Bruce A., and Gordon Russell Lewis. Integrative Theology. Grand Rapids, MI: Academie Books, 1987, 191–2.
  2. Brown, Peter. Augustine of Hippo: A Biography, new ed. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000, esp. Chapters 4–8.
  3. Demarest, Bruce A., and Gordon Russell Lewis. Integrative Theology. Grand Rapids, MI: Academie Books, 1987, 192.
  4. Ibid., 192–3.
  5. Ibid., 193.
  6. Fred B. Craddock, As One Without Authority, rev. ed. (St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2001), 55.
  7. C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: HarperOne, 2001), Book IV, Chapter 7.
  8. Behr, John. Athanasius of Alexandria, On the Incarnation. Yonkers, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2011, 54.
  9. Ware, Kallistos. The Orthodox Way, rev. ed. Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1995, 62.
  10. Jordan B. Peterson, Commencement Address at Hillsdale College, May 7, 2022. YouTube video, 48:32. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xoH6bp9Qito