Raise your hand if you’ve heard or thought something like this: “The twelve disciples were so foolish! For three years, Jesus continually taught them truth, and they just kept getting it wrong. What a bunch of idiots!”
In one sense, this is correct. Jesus’ closest followers got a ton wrong. So too with followers of God in both the Old and New Testaments. The Scripture doesn’t give these men and women a pass; it presents their flaws and failings in HD precision. As a result, we can think—wrongly—that we stand above the God-called men and women presented in Scripture. Similarly, we can think—wrongly—that when we read of their sins, the sum total of what we’re supposed to learn from their story is what not to do. Let’s call this an idealistic read of Scripture.
As one example, this approach would witness Peter denying Jesus three times in John 18 and emphasize something like the following: Denying Jesus! It’s so awful! How could anyone ever do this?! What a WICKED AND AWFUL sin! Never do that, Christian!!!!!! This approach is by no means all wrong. Peter denying Christ was a genuinely grave sin. It’s a low point in Peter’s life. In fact, Peter did exactly what he said he would never do. We are thus right to come away from this true episode not wanting to do anything to emulate Peter’s behavior.
Applying the “Transformative” Approach to Biblical Characters
But here we’ve got to add another layer to the cake. Or, to put it differently, we’ve got to employ a transformative read of Scripture. What do I mean? I mean that instead of thinking ourselves above Peter, we’ve got to see ourselves in Peter. Peter denied Christ in a public way, turning away from identifying with his King. We may not do so in such a dramatic fashion, but we too turn away from Jesus. We too fail to identify with our Lord and Master. We too sin against Christ; we too abandon our Savior when we sin.
Does this fact minimize Peter’s sin or ours? Not one bit. But a transformative read of Scripture does two things: it recognizes the sinfulness of sin even as it points us toward the transforming power of God’s grace. Peter’s story, we remember, does not stop with him denying Christ. After Christ’s resurrection, Jesus finds Peter and restores him (John 21). Jesus shows tremendous compassion to Peter; Jesus offers a rushing river of forgiveness to Peter. Peter’s sin was terrible, but it did not forfeit Peter’s salvation, nor cancel Peter’s ministry. This is truly remarkable, for that’s what Peter deserved.
There are sins, of course, that can take us out of the ministry—but that’s a separate conversation. For our purposes, the Bible invites us to read Peter’s story not as a moralistic dead-end, but as an exercise in the patient and transformative power of God’s grace. Peter denied his Lord, but that same man will go on in the Book of Acts to proclaim the gospel fearlessly and effectually to many. God is teaching us something through the full narrative of Peter’s ministry; God is teaching us about Peter, yes, but also about ourselves—and especially about himself.
In a similar fashion, I thought about this when re-reading the giving of Hagar to Abraham by Sarah (Genesis 16). Read in an idealistic sense, we would come away from this story and say something like, “Sarah’s sin was so awful! How could she do that! What foolishness! Christian, you better NEVER EVER do something similar!” None of that is wrong, precisely. But it’s insufficient. We’ve got to add a layer to our reading of this story.
If we approach this event in a transformative mindset, we see that Sarah (just like Abraham) struggled greatly to trust God’s promise. She took the fulfillment of the covenant promise into her own hands, thinking that she could speed things up by her own wisdom. Abraham was supposed to be the father of God’s people, but that outcome was taking some time. Neither she nor Abraham was getting any younger, so Sarah checked her watch, tapped her foot, and decided it was best to stop waiting on God and start making things happen.
One friend called this a “DIY” plan, and he’s right. The thinking on display here is this: God gave the promise, but in order for it to come to fulfillment, I’ve got to make things happen. In actuality, Sarah did not help bring God’s plan to fulfillment. Her DIY solution did nothing to honor the Lord; it caused chaos, and led to the formation of tribes that would bedevil Israel for all its days.
Yet even in noting this, we see God’s transformative working. Thirteen years after this sorry episode with Hagar, God would revisit Abraham and reaffirm his promise as Genesis 17 shows. Not long after, Isaac would be born. It seemed to Sarah like God had forgotten his word, or was dragging his feet. But this was not the case, for God’s timing is perfect. It just didn’t feel that way to Sarah.
The Shocking Perseverance of God with His Children
What’s the lesson for us? The lesson for us is twofold: first, we are just like Sarah. Instead of trusting God, we give in to the temptation of a DIY solution. We Christians all slip into trusting our own wisdom rather than trusting God’s perfect promises. We live by our feelings, not by the lined-out principles of God. Instead of persisting in faith, we give in to our doubt, our anxiety, and our weakness. None of this helps; all of it makes things worse, much worse.
But if we stop here, we’re only going to experience shame and frustration and discouragement and even despair. We’ve got to go further. We’ve got to see that God persevered with wayward Abraham and wayward Sarah. Despite the fact that he could have cast them off by rights, he did no such thing. Instead, he showed great grace with them, great patience, great forgiveness, and great kindness. He did not cancel his promise; he called them to account and set up consequences for their actions, but he endured in his covenant relationship with this couple. Though they were not faithful to him, he remained faithful to them. This is because he is faithful. He is loving. He is long-suffering. He is incredibly patient. He is generous in extremity in his forgiveness. He is not like us; he is way beyond us in goodness and mercy and blessing.
Scripture’s stories instruct us in many ways. But one thing they do in place after place is this: they show us God interacting with a thoroughly imperfect but greatly loved individual, and God persevering with that individual despite the presence of sin and failure. I do not exaggerate when I say that this is one of the most important lessons of the Bible. We’re not supposed to read of Abraham and Sarah and David and Samson and Peter and all the rest and mock them, malign them, or think ourselves better than them. Their failings should definitely impact and instruct us, absolutely. We should and even must learn from them.
But their examples are teaching us about ourselves, too. When we see impatience in Sarah, we should see it in ourselves. When we see lustfulness in David, we should see it in ourselves. When we see betrayal in Peter, we should see it in ourselves. On and on the list goes.
Being Honest (and Hopeful) About Your Sin as a Believer
But that is just the first part of the equation. The second part is this: as mentioned, we’ve got to see that God is patient with his people. He doesn’t come to them and nuke them in a lightning-shower. He calls them to account, and then shockingly forgives them, helps them, heals them, and strengthens them. He shows them tremendous mercy and grace. He keeps using them. He keeps covenant with them. He loves them.
This is what God is doing for you and me, too. We should never see grace as a license to sin (Romans 6:1)—absolutely not! But we should see in our own walk with Christ that we frankly are not going to achieve sinless perfection. We fight the flesh every day we live by the Spirit’s power, but we will falter. We will stumble (James 3:2). We will sin. We will get anxious. We will speak in anger. We will give in to impatience. We won’t love our family the way we should. We won’t treat our spouse the way we should. We won’t pray the way we should.
But in all this, God forgives. God loves. God perseveres with us. God is patient. God is tender. There are consequences for sin, and some sins offend God more than others. You really can blow up your witness, your home, your church. We want to be vigilant about our propensity for destruction. But our Christian life is never lived as if our behavior and our sin is the center. Our Christian life must have God and his grace at the center, not us. “If we are faithless,” Paul warmly reminds us, “he is faithful” (2 Timothy 2:13).
Conclusion: Let Your White-Knuckled Grip Relax
There is much more to cover in numerous directions. For now, here’s hoping this brief word can free you from an idealistic approach to Scripture and welcome you into a transformative reading of Scripture. This isn’t some genius idea; it’s just Bible 101. When we engage weak Peter, impatient Sarah, and covetous David, we’re not above them. Nor are we left to fear doing what they did as if that’s all sanctification is. No, we’re driven squarely to where Scripture always ends up taking us: to God, but not to his wrath against believers. No, we’re taken to the “everlasting love” and kindness and patience of God with his people (Jeremiah 31:3).
And this is altogether wonderful to us. This realization frees us; it springs us from white-knuckled legalism; it breaks the dam of fearful constriction before a God we wrongly think hates his church; it sends us out into the world full of confidence that our heavenly Father knows our sin yet loves us to the uttermost. That, and no other, is the strong foundation for growth, for change, and for glorification of our great God.
Raise your hand if that’s a Christian life you want. On that count, I’ve got great news: it’s the Christian life the Bible offers you from one cover to the next.