The Christian position on “sin” is best summed up in Romans 7:14-25:

For we know that the law is spiritual: but I am carnal, sold under sin. For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I. If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the law that it is good. Now then it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh,) dwelleth no good thing: for to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not. For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a law, that, when I would do good, evil is present with me. For I delight in the law of God after the inward man: But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin.

The first ten verses of chapter eight immediately following this are also instructive:

There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death. For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh: That the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. For they that are after the flesh do mind the things of the flesh; but they that are after the Spirit the things of the Spirit. For to be carnally minded is death; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace. Because the carnal mind is the enmity against God: for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be. So then they that are in the flesh cannot please God. But ye are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwell in you. Now if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his. And if Christ be in you, the body is dead because of sin; but the Spirit is life because of righteousness.

Before we begin analysing what this all means, we must first lay out some of the Protestant ideas of sin and salvation, since these are the ones we are currently examining. For our present purposes, the distinguishing factor of Protestantism is the idea of justification by faith alone; that is, “salvation” is a freely given gift of God, and not something which needs to be obtained through good works, but simply through faith in Jesus Christ as messiah. Without for the moment considering the meaning or import of any of the terms, the essential idea is that mankind is inherently “sinful” and therefore incapable of “saving” itself. As Martin Luther said in his commentary on Galatians:

The foolishness of man’s heart is so great that then he rather seeketh to himself more laws to satisfy his conscience. “If I live,” saith he, “I will amend my life: I will do this, I will do that.” But here, except thou do the quite contrary, except thou send Moses away with his law, and in these terrors and this anguish lay hold upon Christ who died for the sins, look for no salvation. The cowl, thy shaven crown, thy chastity, thy obedience, thy poverty, thy works, thy merits? what shall all these do? what shall the law of Moses avail? If I, wretched and damnable sinner, through works or merits could have loved the Son of God, and so come to him, what needed he to deliver himself to me? If I, being a wretch and damned sinner, could be redeemed by any other price, what needed the Son of God to be given? But because there was no other price, therefore he delivered neither sheep, ox, gold, nor silver, but even God himself, entirely and wholly “for me,” even “for me,” I say, a miserable, wretched sinner. Now, therefore, I take comfort and apply this to myself. And the manner of applying this is the very true force and power of faith. For he died not to justify the righteous, but the un-righteous, and to make them the children of God.

In other words, the sacrifice of Jesus would have been simply unnecessary if man was able to redeem himself through works, leading to the natural conclusion that man is not able to redeem himself through works, and redemption is solely a gift of God, to be given at God’s sole discretion to whomever he chooses. This gift, as the theory goes, is not caused by faith, but received by it; redemption is a gift given freely by God to all, and the only thing man needs to do to be saved is to receive that gift. Romans 3:20-28 speaks directly to this idea:

Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight: for by the law is the knowledge of sin. But now the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe: for there is no difference: For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus: Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God; To declare, I say, at this time his righteousness: that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus. Where is boasting, then? It is excluded. By what law? of works? Nay: but by the law of faith. Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law.

Catholicism, on the other hand, generally rejects the doctrine of justification by faith alone, quoting – amongst others – James 2:17-26:

Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone. Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works: shew me thy faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my works. Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble. But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead? Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he had offered Isaac his son upon the altar? Seest thou how faith wrought with his works, and by works was faith made perfect? And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, Abraham believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness: and he was called the Friend of God. Ye see then how that by works a man is justified, and not by faith only. Likewise was also not Rahab the harlot justified by works, when she had received the messengers, and had sent them out another way? For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.

(Interestingly, stark discrepancies such as this puts the claim often accompanying Christian Bibles that “The books of the Bible had many different authors, living at different times and in different places. Yet not one of these writers contradicts another” in proper perspective, even without the help of some of the more glaring inconsistencies.)

Being at pains to point out again that, for now, we are deliberately refraining from defining our terms, this Protestant doctrine states that man is inherently unworthy of salvation, and always will be unworthy of salvation, by his very “fleshy” and “sinful” nature. Therefore salvation can only come as a gift from God, rather than by man performing works to make himself worthy. This doctrine states, in its essence, that God knows that man is inherently unworthy of salvation, but nevertheless – through sending his son to die as a man – decided to save man anyway, since he is a loving God. The sacrifice of Jesus atoned for the sins of man, completely and finally, such that sin is no longer a bar to salvation, that salvation is available to any man who will just receive it, however fatally sinful he may be.

This doctrine is perhaps most extremely visible in the Calvinist position of “total depravity”, which – rather than stating that man is a filthy, crawling worm, as the most common interpretation from the outside runs – states simply that the very nature of man disinclines him utterly from following the rule of God, and instead inclines him unavoidably towards serving his own worldly interests. It states that man is simply unable to choose to follow God because his very nature is constituted to prevent it. Thus the gift of salvation comes from God not as a reward based on virtue, or merit, or good works, but as a simple elective choice grounded in God’s mercy alone.

With this introduction, let us return and consider in some detail the meaning of these ideas, offering a commentary on our first quotation.

Romans 7:14 – “For we know that the law is spiritual: but I am carnal, sold under sin.” This suggests two qualitatively different things: a spiritual law, and a carnal body which we presume is intended to follow that spiritual law. This qualitative difference sets us up for a conflict, and is perhaps the most fundamental idea behind this concept of “sin”.

Romans 7:15 – “For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I.” Here we see the conflict prophesied in the previous verse. The man does not do what he would do, but does do what he would not do. He finds himself unable to stop himself from doing that which is not in accordance with the law, and unable to force himself to do that which is in accordance with the law.

Romans 7:16-17 – “If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the law that it is good. Now then it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.” Verse 16 shows the man “consenting” that the law is good, with the term “I consent”. Verse 17 concludes from this that if the man – the “I” – consents that the law is good, then the fact that the man is unable to prevent himself from breaking the law means that it is not the man that breaks the law at all, but the sin within his carnal body that does that. In other words, if the man consents that the law is good, he already knows what he should be doing, and this is made plain by the fact that he perceives a difference between what he should be doing and what he actually is doing. Knowing this, it is reasoned that there must be something else preventing him from doing what he should be doing, and that something else is the “sin that dwelleth in” him.

This idea should be familiar to most. We may think, for instance, that we should exercise three times a week, or that we should give up smoking, or that we should be nicer to people, or that we should be more organized, to name a few out of many possibilities. But, we often find that despite thinking we should do all these things, we very rarely do. If we take regular exercise as an example, this doctrine of sinful nature would hold that since we know we should do it, and since in our hearts we want to do it, it follows that it cannot be “us” that stops us from doing it, but rather our inherent idleness, or weak will, or whatever else. In other words, our knowledge of the “law” (i.e. what “should” be done) and our acceptance of the law is frustrated by the “sinful nature” of the bodies we have to act through, and that it is not ourselves which fail, but that sinful nature which frustrates our desire to succeed.

It is important for the present argument that idea of “sin” as connoting wickedness in a moral sense is put aside, and that the “sinful nature” is understood more as a frustrating force than a wicked one. We may of course say that failure to adhere to the spiritual law has moral connotations, but this failure does not arise because the sinful nature is consciously wanting to be evil, but simply because the sinful nature is not constructed to want to follow that law, but rather its own interests. It is more as if the nature of the bodies that we have to act through is just not suited to following the instructions of our more “spiritual” selves, rather than deliberately trying to be wicked.

Romans 7:18 – “For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh,) dwelleth no good thing: for to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not.” Here we see the natural conclusion of the following two verses, that “in my flesh dwelleth no good thing”. “Flesh” here is that which has the “sinful nature”, that which frustrates the accomplishment of the law. Again, it is important to understand that “in my flesh dwelleth no good thing” does not imply that the flesh is manifestly “evil”, just that the “good thing” – i.e. knowledge of the law – does not arise in the flesh, but is frustrated by it. “To will is present with me” states that the will to follow the law is there in the individual somewhere, but it is not in his “flesh”. “But how to perform that which is good I find not” states that all actions are carried out through the flesh, and the flesh simply has no desire to follow the law.

The picture we have here is of the man who is aware of the law, and who wants to follow it, but is cursed with a carnal and fleshy vehicle that is simply unable to do that, because the will to follow that law simply does not exist within that vehicle, but outside of it, and that will appears unable to constrain that vehicle into conformity. This is the origin of the Calvinistic doctrine of total depravity, that the flesh simply has no interest in the law and possesses precisely no inclination to follow it. The law would appear to be of a qualitatively different order to the flesh, those two orders appearing to not coincide, so that the flesh goes its own way regardless of the law, and regardless of the man’s will to follow the law.

Romans 7:19-20 – “For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.” A restatement of 7:15-17.

Romans 7:21-23 – “I find then a law, that, when I would do good, evil is present with me. For I delight in the law of God after the inward man: But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members.” Here we see a concise statement of the conflict. We have a law which essentially cannot be adhered to, because “when I would go good, evil is present with me”. The “inward man” delights in the “law of God”, but there is “another law in my members…bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members.” The “law of my mind” is the same as the “law of God” which the “inward man” delights in, but there is another law, the “law of sin”, under which one is captive, since the body or “outward man” is not interested in the “law of God” at all, but in its own law. There appears to be no solution, the “law of sin” being too strong to permit the flesh to be brought under the will of the “law of the mind”, and that no matter how strong the will to follow the law is, the attempt will be unsuccessful.

This is really what the doctrine of “original sin” is all about. Rather than some hideous tale of an entire species being gratuitously punished for the misdemeanours of the first man and woman, it is simply a statement that this “sinful nature” exists within man as part of his very being, that man is simply constructed in a way that prevents the mind – which wants to follow the “law of God” – from getting its way. This being the case, that “original sin” is passed on from generation to generation, since that which makes a human a human is passed down through the DNA. The fable of the “fall of man” is, of course, purported to describe how and why the nature of man was constructed in this way in the first place, but it is a mistake to allow preoccupations with spurious creation myths to obscure the essentials of the philosophy being presented. The fact – according to this doctrine – is that this is simply how man is constructed, and it is how each new generation of man is going to be constructed also.

Romans 7:24 – “O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” A cry for help! A cry for salvation from this sinful nature which frustrates the mind’s attempts to follow the law. This reinforces the idea that man, by himself, cannot achieve salvation; his own sinful nature cannot save him from his own sinful nature. An external agency is required for “deliverance”.

Romans 7:25 – “I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin.” The deliverer is revealed as Jesus Christ, and the solution is remarkably simple: “So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin.” The conflict is removed by simply letting the sinful nature serve the law of sin, and letting the mind serve the law of God. Rather than the one trying to force the other into compliance, the other is allowed to go its own way sinning happily.

From the doctrine presented, this is an inevitable outcome. If the mind really cannot force the sinful nature into conformity, then what else is one going to do? If the flesh really is going to continue to serve the “law of sin” despite the best efforts of the mind, then that is what it is going to do, and no amount of wailing about the inability of the mind to press it into conformity is going to do any good at all. If that really is the way things are, then one might as well accept that.

This is where the real difference we alluded to earlier between Catholicism and Protestantism really becomes clear. If justification is – at least partially – achieved through works, then the conflict between the law of God and the law of sin is a real problem, because the “captivity” of the sinful nature must be overcome if good works are to be achieved. This, naturally, creates an incredible strain within the self. If, on the other hand, justification is achieved through faith and salvation is a freely-given gift of God, then the fact that the flesh continues to serve the law of sin is of no consequence, since the atonement of Jesus has already “paid the price” – completely and finally – for all sin past, present and future. Salvation can thus be achieved in spite of the sinful nature of the flesh. As Luther said, “he died not to justify the righteous, but the un-righteous, and to make them the children of God.” We may reasonably assume that the “righteous” need no justification, which leads relentlessly to the conclusion that the sacrifice of Jesus was indeed for the benefit of the unrighteous, for the benefit of the sinful, that they might be saved despite their sin. Under this doctrine, sin is simply not a barrier to salvation, because the price for it has already been paid.

It is not only in Protestant Christianity that ideas similar to “you are already saved (or enlightened, or whatever else), if you would but realise it” come up, and they always lead to the same question: if we are already saved, and there is no problem, why are we even having this discussion? The very fact that we are asking such questions seems to imply that something must be done, otherwise we wouldn’t be in the miserable position of having to try to seek “salvation” in the first place.

The answer, naturally, is that the conflict between the “law of God” and the “law of sin” does indeed cause conflict within the individual if it is not resolved, and that the “faith” through which justification is achieved is what resolved that conflict.  In other words, the question of the preceding paragraph can be restated as “what, precisely, do we mean by ‘salvation’ anyway?” It should go without saying, but unfortunately cannot, that we must excise any idea of salvation having anything whatsoever to do with admittance into some kind of paradisaical afterlife; whatever it means, it must mean something tangible to this life right here. This prevents us from taking a particular literal approach to many of the other doctrines of Christianity, but the inherent absurdities of those doctrines should have put us in that position to begin with.

We may suppose that the conflict between the “law of God” and the “law of sin” does indeed cause what we may term “discomfort” in the individual, in particular the constant and ceaseless failures to live up to the standards a preoccupation with the “law of God” would have us believe are necessary. In The Varieties of Religious Experience, William James famously distinguishes two broad types of character as they pertain to the religious life. The healthy-minded or once-born person possesses “the tendency which looks on all things and sees that they are good”. James writes that:

when happiness is actually in possession, the thought of evil can no more acquire the feeling of reality than the thought of good can gain reality when melancholy rules. To the man actively happy, from whatever cause, evil simply cannot then and there be believed in…Much of what we call evil is due entirely to the way men take the phenomenon. It can so often be converted into a bracing and tonic good by a simple change of the sufferer’s inner attitude from one of fear to one of fight; its sting so often departs and turns into a relish when, after vainly seeking to shun it, we agree to face about and bear it cheerfully…All invasive moral states and passionate enthusiasms make one feelingless to evil in some direction. The common penalties cease to deter the patriot, the usual prudences are flung by the lover to the winds. When the passion is extreme, suffering may actually be gloried in, provided it be for the ideal cause, death may lose its sting, the grave its victory. In these states, the ordinary contrast of good and ill seems to be swallowed up in a higher denomination, an omnipotent excitement which engulfs the evil, and which the human being welcomes as the crowning experience of his life. This, he says, is truly to live, and I exult in the heroic opportunity and adventure.

With regards to the practice of confession, he writes:

Repentance according to such healthy-minded Christians means getting away from the sin, not groaning and writhing over its commission. The Catholic practice of confession and absolution is in one of its aspects little more than a systematic method of keeping healthy-mindedness on top. By it a man’s accounts with evil are periodically squared and audited, so that he may start the clean page with no debts inscribed. Any Catholic will tell us how clean and fresh and free he feels after the purging operation.

and then goes on to quote Luther – who “by no means belonged to the healthy-minded type” – as saying:

When I was a monk I thought that I was utterly cast away, if at any time I felt the lust of the flesh: that is to say, if I felt any evil motion, fleshly lust, wrath, hatred, or envy against my brother. I assayed many ways to help to quiet my conscience, but it would not be; for the concupiscence and lust of my flesh did always return, so that I could not rest, but was continually vexed with these thoughts: This or that sin thou hast committed: thou art infected with envy, with impatiency, and such other sins: therefore thou art entered into this holy order in vain, and all thy good works are unprofitable. But if then I had rightly understood [the] sentences of Paul…I should not have so miserably tormented myself, but should have thought and said to myself, as now commonly I do, “Martin, thou shalt not utterly be without sin, for thou hast flesh; thou shalt therefore feel the battle thereof.” I remember that Staupitz was wont to say, “I have vowed unto God above a thousand times that I would become a better man: but I never performed that which I vowed. Hereafter I will make no such vow: for I have now learned by experience that I am not able to perform it. Unless, therefore, God be favorable and merciful unto me for Christ’s sake, I shall not be able, with all my vows and all my good deeds, to stand before him.” This was not only a true, but also a godly and a holy desperation; and this must they all confess, both with mouth and heart, who will be saved. For the godly trust not to their own righteousness. They look unto Christ their reconciler, who gave his life for their sins. Moreover, they know that the remnant of sin which is in their flesh is not laid to their charge, but freely pardoned…[they are] not discouraged, nor think therefore that their state and kind of life, and the works which are done according to their calling, displease God; but they raise up themselves by faith.

In this last excerpt, we see Luther clearly recognize that the agonising over “sin” in the earlier part of his career was fruitless, since “thou shalt not utterly be without sin, for thou hast flesh”, and “the remnant of sin which is in [the] flesh is not laid to [our] charge, but freely pardoned”. The “salvation”, in this case, is the liberation from the crushing consciousness of sin by the realization that, to put it simply, “to sin is human”. This conclusion could quite easily stand by itself, but the idea of Christ “atoning” for that sin would appear to be necessary to ameliorate the concerns of those whose belief in the “law of God” necessitate a feeling that sin is “bad”, and must somehow be paid for by someone – in this case, someone other than them. “Salvation from sin” in this case is not understood in terms of admittance into paradise despite being a “wicked sinner”, but liberation from the effects of the consciousness of sin on the mental-wellbeing of the individual. Rather than continually punishing himself for not being able to live up to the standards he believes he ought to be able to live up to, the believer simply accepts that this is just the way human beings are, and hence is perceived “shortcomings” cease to worry him because he realises that there is no point worrying about something over which he has no control. It is the idea that he should be able to live up to these standards which is discarded, and this releases a lot of psychological pressure that he would otherwise direct towards his own self-imposed torment. The “salvation” in question is thus a worldly one, not a heavenly one.

This is only half of the equation, of course. As well as the idea of serving the law of sin with the flesh, Romans 7:25 also contains the idea of serving the law of God with the mind. Salvation, for the Protestant, is not merely a question of freedom from the captivity of sin, but must also involve a positive movement. The Protestant realises that the sinful nature of the flesh means that he can never hope to serve the law of God with his carnal nature, but this does not prevent him from serving that law with his mind. He must still strive to uphold that law in his mind even in the face of the fact that he cannot hope to uphold it with his fleshy vehicle. It will not do to simply accept man’s sinful nature and then descend to revelling in sin. Romans 7:18 states that “in my flesh dwelleth no good thing”; this doctrine holds that while it is accepted that the flesh is inherently sinful and that the carnal man is incapable of serving the law of God, serving the law of God is nevertheless necessary for his wellbeing. We said that the fact that “in my flesh dwelleth no good thing” does not mean that the flesh is wicked, but under this doctrine is also means that no real satisfaction can come from the flesh, either, and that even if he can only serve the law of God with his mind, he must serve it with that mind if he is to be saved, regardless of what his sinful nature might be doing.

This brings us to James’ second classification, the sick-soul or twice-born person, of which he says:

There are people [i.e. the “healthy-minded”] for whom evil means only a maladjustment with things, a wrong correspondence of one’s life with the environment. Such evil as this is curable, in principle at least, upon the natural plane, for merely by modifying either the self or the things, or both at once, the two terms may be made to fit, and all go merry as a marriage bell again. But there are others for whom evil is no mere relation of the subject to particular outer things, but something more radical and general, a wrongness or vice in his essential nature, which no alteration of the environment, or any superficial rearrangement of the inner self, can cure, and which requires a supernatural remedy…

…how can things so insecure as the successful experiences of this world afford a stable anchorage? A chain is no stronger than its weakest link, and life is after all a chain. In this healthiest and most prosperous existence, how many links of illness, danger, and disaster are always interposed? … Even if we suppose a man so packed with healthy-mindedness as never to have experienced in his own person any of these sobering intervals, still, if he is a reflecting being, he must generalize and class his own lot with that of others; and, doing so, he must see that his escape is just a lucky chance and no essential difference. He might just as well have been born to an entirely different fortune. And then indeed the hollow security! What kind of a frame of things is it of which the best you can say is, “Thank God, it has let me off clear this time!”…

…Failure, then, failure! so the world stamps us at every turn. We strew it with our blunders, our misdeeds, our lost opportunities, with all the memorials of our inadequacy to our vocation. And with what a damning emphasis does it then blot us out! No easy fine, no mere apology or formal expiation, will satisfy the world’s demands, but every pound of flesh exacted is soaked with all its blood. The subtlest forms of suffering known to man are connected with the poisonous humiliations incidental to these results…

…But this is only the first stage of the world-sickness. Make the human being’s sensitiveness a little greater, carry him a little farther over the misery-threshold, and the good quality of all the successful moments themselves when they occur is spoiled and vitiated. All natural goods perish. Riches take wings; fame is a breath; love is a cheat; youth and health and pleasure vanish. Can things whose end is always dust and disappointment be the real goods which our souls require? Back of everything is the great spectre of universal death, the all-encompassing blackness.

We can see from this that the Protestant doctrine is most decidedly one for the “sick soul”. The healthy-minded sees the world as essentially good, where “evil” is more of an appearance, a confusion, than something real. The sick soul, on the other hand, sees the world as fundamentally “bad”. The statement that “in my flesh dwelleth no good thing” applies not just to the body of flesh, but to the world of flesh as well. If for no other reason than the inevitable and ultimate death of everything in it, the world of flesh is held to be intrinsically worthless and wholly lacking in good or merit to the sick soul, and that the only thing of any worth – if indeed there be anything of any worth – must lie outside of it. Hence, it “requires a supernatural remedy”. The Protestant doctrine of atonement for sin, as we have stated, while providing a psychological release from the oppression of the consciousness of sin, does not posit any worth in the world of carnality simply released from the oppression of sin, but from another world entirely. Hence the Protestant must still “serve the law of God” with his mind because serving this law, regardless of whether or not he can bring his flesh into submission, is the only thing that will provide him with any worth.

Romans 6:23 says “for the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” James provides an interesting account from a Dr. R.M. Bucke of a mystical experience that the latter enjoyed:

The prime characteristic of cosmic consciousness is a consciousness of the cosmos, that is,of the life and order of the universe. Along with the consciousness of the cosmos there occurs an intellectual enlightenment which alone would place the individual on a new plane of existence – would make him almost a member of a new species. To this is added a state of moral exaltation, an indescribable feeling of elevation, elation, and joyousness, and a quickening of the moral sense, which is fully as striking, and more important than is the enhanced intellectual power. With these come what may be called a sense of immortality, a consciousness of eternal life, not a conviction that he shall have this, but the consciousness that he has it already…

…Among other things, I did not merely come to believe, but I saw that the universe is not composed of dead matter, but is, on the contrary, a living Presence; I became conscious in myself of eternal life. It was not a conviction that I would have eternal life, but a consciousness that I possessed eternal life then; I saw that all men are immortal…The vision lasted a few seconds and was gone; but the memory of it and the sense of the reality of what it taught has remained during the quarter of a century which has since elapsed…That view, that convinction, I may say that consciousness, has never, even during periods of the deepest depression, been lost.

“The wages of sin is death” simply means that living within the world of the flesh will result in returns which are correspondingly fleshy. Since, the doctrine goes, all worldly things will ultimately perish, a preoccupation with worldly affairs can only bring death, since there can be no permanent results from dealing with such affairs. “Eternal life” is to escape this death of the fleshy world, and this is the “gift of God”. Simply put, by transferring one’s attention from the carnal world to the spiritual world, one enjoys eternal life right now, because the things one is engaged in will not die (assuming that the “spiritual world” does not suffer from the same qualities as the carnal world, of course). This remains true despite that fact that one’s mortal being and individuality will inevitably die. Hence, in order to escape from the worthlessness of sin and the carnal world, the Protestant must “serve the law of God with his mind”, and turn his attention to the spiritual world to do this. This is the mechanism through which salvation, the freely given gift of God, may be “received” through faith.

Burke’s idea of a “consciousness that I possessed eternal life then” should be familiar to anyone with a reasonable degree of mystical experience, since it is a common and natural occurrence once one manages to wrest one’s attention away from mundane affairs. The Protestant doctrine requires that this mystical experience, if we may call it that, be a supernatural gift from God. If such a consciousness of “eternal life” is indeed salvation (to over-simplify) then the idea that such consciousness can arise as a result of purely physical meditational practices would contradict the doctrine that there is “no good thing” in the carnal world. As such, consistency requires it to be gifted from outside the world by a supernatural agency. We could, of course, regard the “carnal world” and the “spiritual world” as merely two distinct parts of the same overall physical world (or two distinct ways of looking at the same world) and avoid this need to introduce a supernatural agency, but such is not the Protestant doctrine.

With these observations under our belt, we can return to Romans and comment on the first ten verses of chapter eight.

Romans 8:1 – “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.” This observes that, provided the follower “walk  after the Spirit” in his mind, the recalcitrance of his flesh need not concern him, for the flesh may be allowed to sin freely on its own account. Provided the mind focus on the Spirit – which it can do, only its attempt to act being frustrated by the flesh, and not its simple aspiration – then the sinful nature of the carnal body need provide no obstacle.

Romans 8:2 – “For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.” This freedom from “the law of sin and death” is the consciousness of eternal life previously referred to. The doctrine holds that it was the atonement of Jesus which made it possible for the sinful nature to be bypassed in the manner described in the previous verse, and which enabled man to enjoy this freedom.

Romans 8:3-4 – “For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh: That the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.” The “law” – being the “law of Moses” referred to by Luther – could not lead to salvation, since the flesh is inherently sinful, and no amount of good works and adherence to temporal laws could bring about deliverance. It was only “God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh” which could enable “the righteousness of the law [to] be fulfilled in us”, since it is only this atonement which enabled that sinful flesh to be bypassed altogether. This implies that the emphasis on law and good works in the Old Testament was fundamentally misguided, but that until the coming of Jesus there was simply no other way to achieve salvation. Given the atonement, the sinful nature of the flesh can be disregarded, and “righteousness” becomes available to those “who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit”, i.e. who transfer their attention to the spiritual world.

Romans 8:5-8 – “For they that are after the flesh do mind the things of the flesh; but they that are after the Spirit the things of the Spirit. For to be carnally minded is death; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace. Because the carnal mind is the enmity against God: for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be. So then they that are in the flesh cannot please God.” Again we see that the “carnal mind…is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can [it] be”, since it is wholly separate from the spiritual world where the law of God rules. Thus, “to be carnally minded is death”, since to live in a temporal world is to restrict oneself to temporal – and temporary – rewards, whereas “to be spiritually minded is life and peace” because, with the consciousness of eternal life that Burke describes, the “great spectre of universal death” ceases to haunt one.

Romans 8:9-10 – “But ye are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwell in you. Now if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his. And if Christ be in you, the body is dead because of sin; but the Spirit is life because of righteousness.” A statement that having “the Spirit of God dwell in you” is the way out of the carnal world, a way to avoid being “in the flesh”. Simply, the mind can attend to the flesh, or it can attend to the “Spirit of God”. If it does attend to the Spirit of God, then it is no longer in the flesh, and instead has “life”. Thus, under the doctrine of justification by faith, the gift of God of salvation and life can be received simply by attending to the Spirit of God, without any need for good works.

Now, we are probably overdue in answering a question which is likely on the lips of several readers, namely why on earth, in the name of Buggery Jack, have we spent so much time here discussing Christian doctrine on a site which can hardly be described as sympathetic to the Christian outlook?

The reason is because the attraction of the solution of the “sick soul” is undeniable at times, to too great a degree to warrant dismissal. The framework in which the solution is presented is clearly absurd when taken in its literal supernatural sense, and in a more philosophical sense is deeply opposed to the framework more usually presented here.

The Thelemic outlook is most definitely of James’ “healthy-minded” type. AL I, 30 tells us “This is the creation of the world, that the pain of division is as nothing, and the joy of dissolution all.” This is clearly consistent with the idea that “evil” is an illusion, rather than an actual existing quality, and this is reinforced by AL II, 9: “Remember all ye that existence is pure joy; that all the sorrows are but as shadows; they pass & are done; but there is that which remains.” This is completely at odds with the idea that “in my flesh dwelleth no good thing”. In the first instance, Thelemic doctrine holds that the “world of flesh”, if such we might call it, is the only world there is, and therefore if “existence is pure joy” then that joy is found in the world of flesh. More fundamentally, the Protestant doctrine holds that the carnal self is little more but a frustration to the spiritual self, whereas Thelemic doctrine holds that the “carnal self” is the source of the will.

This really is the most striking difference. Protestant doctrine holds that the carnal self frustrates the mind, whereas Thelemic doctrine holds almost the total opposite, that more usually it is the mind frustrating the carnal self, and that is where the suffering arises. AL II, 22 states that “It is a lie, this folly against self,” with AL I, 61 commanding “Ye shall gather goods and store of women and spices; ye shall wear rich jewels; ye shall exceed the nations of the earth in splendour & pride; but always in the love of me, and so shall ye come to my joy.” Thelema would hold that the Protestant denial of the “carnal self” is at the root of almost all suffering, and that a preoccupation with an imaginary “law of God” at the expense of following the will of the self is only going to lead to pain.

Yet the powerful psychological release which comes from abandoning the consciousness of sin, as the Protestant would describe it, is entirely consistent with Thelema. Paul rightly says that “with the flesh [I serve] the law of sin”, meaning that the “carnal self” should follow the path that is proper to the “carnal self”, which in a sense is indistinguishable from the Thelemic doctrine of will. So, in an observation that may be surprising to many, in both cases we have a doctrine of allowing the “carnal self” to follow its proper course without interference from the mind; we have two diametrically opposed approaches which end up at the same spot, namely freedom from the mind attempting to impose standards on the self. Of course, although this observation will be surprising to many, it really shouldn’t be; if the conflict between mind and self is as fundamental as we posit it to be, we should positively expect that any serious attempt to construct a doctrine of “salvation” should come to broadly similar outcomes, at least in form if not in theory.

It is reasonable though to ask whether, if the “carnal self” is allowed to follow its own laws, the idea of “following the law of God with the mind” really has any meaning. Once the mind has accepted the supernatural intervention of Jesus and surrendered to it, so that the sins of the flesh are no longer its responsibility or its burden, what does it then do? Mystical experiences such as those described by Burke are all well and good, but they do not last very long, and even if the intellectual conviction remains, what is there left for the mind to do other than to passively have faith in that conviction and calmly await death? The practical answer, naturally, is that the mind turns its attentions back to the carnal world, and returns to its “works”, but does so without the expectation of achieving salvation through them, with the calm equanimity of knowing oneself to be “saved”. One is forced to ask what difference there really is between this and the Thelemic doctrine of “lust of result”.

In his classification into the two types of “soul” James makes much of his theory of “thresholds”:

And just so we might speak of a “pain-threshold,” a “fear-threshold,” and “misery-threshold,” and find it quickly overpassed by the consciousness of some individuals, but lying too high in others to be often reached by their consciousness. The sanguine and healthy-minded live habitually on the sunny side of their misery-line, the depressed and melancholy live beyond it, in darkness and apprehension. There are men who seem to have started in life with a bottle or two of champagne inscribed to their credit; whilst others seem to have been born close to the pain-threshold, which the slightest irritants fatally send them over. Does it not appear as if one who lived more habitually on one side of the pain-threshold might need a different sort of religion from one who habitually lived on the other?

It may be ultimately futile to try to convince someone who lives on the wrong side of this “pain-threshold” of the truth of “Remember all ye that existence is pure joy; that all the sorrows are but as shadows; they pass & are done; but there is that which remains.” They may be able to come to an intellectual apprehension and acceptance of it, but if their make-up ultimately prevents them from really feeling it then such attempts will be in vain, and perhaps a calm and equable attitude towards tolerating the rest of their existence in a worthless world is the best they can hope for. But, whether they come through to joy or to mere wistful acceptance, the psychological release of pressure from the consciousness of failing to live up to moral standards remains no mean benefit.

It is worthwhile asking if such attitudes can be changed, although this is an easier question to ask than to answer. The root possibly arises in Paul’s “I consent unto the law that it is good”. In the quote from James’ description of the sick soul, we had the following: “Can things whose end is always dust and disappointment be the real goods which our souls require?” We may postulate – as we have often done, most recently in Let there be no difference made – that a dissatisfaction with the world arises simply from the tendency to compare the real world unfavourably with an imaginary ideal. If we “consent unto the law that it is good”, and we accept that the “carnal self” is not particularly inclined to follow this law, then we are bound to conclude that “in my flesh dwelleth no good thing.” If we begin by arbitrarily accepting that “the law” – an arbitrary standard of judgment – is “good”, then of course we will end up concluding that anything opposed to that law is “bad”. Similarly, if we ask “can things whose end is always dust and disappointment be the real goods which our souls require?” and we answer “no”, then we are beginning from a position that “dust is bad”. As for “disappointment”, that clearly arises from a failure to conform to ideals.

James comes down quite clearly on the side of the “sick soul” mentality – probably not least because he himself belonged to a Protestant denomination – on the grounds that the healthy-minded philosophy “is inadequate as a philosophical doctrine, because the evil facts which it refuses to positively account for are a genuine portion of reality.” This question if “evil facts” needs to be addressed in this context. When it is said that healthy-mindedness denies the existence of evil, or relegates it to a mere illusion, this does not deny that things which may be described as evil actually occur; it merely denies that they are evil. By saying that “all the sorrows are but as shadows” we do not deny that the shadows themselves are real. “Evil” in this context has a definite perjorative meaning, and for James to state that “evil facts…are a genuine portion of reality” requires one to accept that there is something “bad” or “wrong” with those facts being allowed to exist. As he said, for the sick soul, evil is “a wrongness or vice in his essential nature”. The healthy-minded person says that death, for instance, while possibly undesirable and briefly unpleasant for the sufferer, is no more “evil” than the death of millions of bacteria during the pasteurisation process. He attaches no perjorative significance to such events; they are just the way the world is.

Thus, to be really dissatisfied and disappointed with the world, one must first have a strong ideal about how the world should be, or at least how it should not be. “Evil” only arises when the world fails to comply with this ideal, and James’ mistake was either to suppose this imaginary ideal and the resulting comparisons to be “a genuine portion of reality”, or to suppose that the healthy-minded actually do deny the existence of pain and suffering, which would be absurd. He continually refers to the healthy-minded as “averting [their] attention from evil”, rather than being actively free from the tendency to perceive things as evil at all which is more often the case. It may well be true that no amount of argument that the world is good is going to convince the sick soul, if he continues to compare the world to his ideal, if he continues to “consent unto the law that it is good”. If, on the other hand, he can be made to drop his ideal, to discard his belief in the righteousness of the “law”, then he may have a much better chance.

Although James views the healthy-minded philosophical doctrine as being less complete than that of the sick soul, therefore, we may argue that the healthy-minded method of Thelemic “salvation” (although that term would never be used) is more complete, since in addition to providing psychological release from the consciousness of “sin” it also provides a way for the mind to reconcile itself with the world, instead of forcing it to pine for a supernatural alternative. It also enables the “carnal self” not just to be “permitted” to serve its own law, but to be encouraged to positively thrive doing so. This, in turn, is likely to lead to a much more “world positive” view, a lack of which may arguably be responsible for the development and perpetuation of the sick soul in the first place. While the theory may appear sound, many sick souls – including Luther – despite their “salvation”, have become “utterly weary of life”. In such a case, we may justifiably wonder exactly what worth that “salvation” had, and whether somewhere along the line the opportunity for a more lasting and wholesome transformation was closely missed.

Although the raising of the mind to lofty matters separate from those of the “carnal world” can be easily criticised, the raising of the mind as a principle in itself cannot. The Book of the Law itself requires such a raising, with the command by Nuit that all acts be performed “always unto me” in AL I, 51 being a prime example. On this very site we have discussed, to name but two examples, the “expansion of consciousness” in The Qabalistic Cross and an extended discussion of various perspective-shifting practices in The Point of View of the Sun. The need to free the mind from a pre-occupation with worldly affairs is a common and arguably universal religious theme, and accounts of conversion and other religious experiences certainly abound with it. It is the “raising” of the mind in a way which is actually opposed to, and hostile to, the actual world which is troublesome, since this will almost inevitably cause further conflicts and perpetuate the sick soul’s terminal disappointment.

The world-denying philosophy of the Protestant appears to arise, as we have described, from the mistaken belief that man’s own wistful ideals are a reliable standard against which to measure “righteousness” and “worth”. When real facts are substituted for imaginary and impossible ideals a large part of the problem of disappointment reaches a solution by itself; What’s the point of it all? shows how such a simple substitution can transform the “great spectre of universal death” into something very different. When one of the core problems the sick soul faces can so completely and permanently evaporate in the light of the morning sun as a result of so simple a change in perspective, a deep distrust of the kind of confidence James has in the validity of his “sick soul” approach should naturally develop.

It is easy to see, then, how the “raising of the mind” in a religious context can just as easily lead to a world-affirming perspective as it can a world-negating perspective, and the wholesomeness of the former is naturally seen as a significant advantage, as is its consonance with observation. While the release of the self from the captivity of the mind (represented in the Protestant doctrine as a release of the mind from the captivity of the sinful nature of the carnal self) leads to recognisably similar results in both doctrines, the different directions in which the mind is then allowed to go can be seen to make a world of difference, and a simple misplaced faith in the righteousness of the mind’s arbitrary ideals must come in for a great deal of criticism. The Protestant direction is inward-looking, and forces the mind to turn away from the world and instead to focus on an imaginary realm where imaginary “evils” are no more. The Thelemic direction – and a pagan direction in general – is outward-looking, and relieves the consciousness of evil by encouraging the individual to focus on a worldly or universal perspective, instead of on his own personal sorrows. Mystical experiences, which are invariably connected with a greatly expanded sense of consciousness, should be expected to lead to the latter, and one cannot help but wonder if it is the fault of philosophical and wistful idealism which in some cases turns the mystical experience in on itself and compels the individual to turn his eyes from the wide to the narrow.

It is easy to become frustrated with and disheartened at the world, and attraction of a world-negating philosophy therefore holds great attraction for many. With a world-negating philosophy, both the arduous struggles for success and the devastating failures are equally worthless, and a significant amount of “performance pressure” is removed. A world-negating outlook is essentially one of a withdrawal from the world, and this is a powerful psychological defense mechanism which can seem alluring. Mystical and religious experiences of many kinds commonly manifest as the release of some type of significant pressure, and the resulting relief can inflate the importance of the experience and the rational conclusions drawn therefrom out of all proportion to their actual value. An attachment to the experience and to its interpretation can lead to positively pathological behaviour, as a brief review of the accounts of the “saints” will easily confirm. Asceticism in general may be seen as a device to almost hysterically avoid the pressures of seeking comfort, or wealth, or physical well-being; if one denies oneself something, then one may feel relieved of both the pressure to attain it, and from the disappointment of failing to or of losing it. It may be that the search for “purity” more often resembles a search for insulation from the world, and that it is not godliness which is the motivating factor, but simple fear, and the more rabid the asceticism, the more likely this is.

Ironically, the motivation for such a world-negating view is precisely in the “carnal law” which the solution purports to transcend. If the mind really was free from “sin”, it would be indifferent to either luxury or poverty; both would be equally worthless. The saint who fastidiously avoids human contact is as much a servant of the law of sin as the drug addict. This is almost invariably the consequence of a “narrow path” mentality; it is almost impossible to maintain it. Thelema, in contrast, promotes an expansionary path, an acceptance of sensation rather than a rejection of it. The follower of the narrow path has an infinite number of ways of straying from that path; the follower of the expansionary path grows in an infinite number of ways and thereby maintains a stable centre of gravity (see The Method of Love).

There is then, as would be expected, a significant core of truth in the Protestant doctrine of “sin” once the extraneous fluff is knocked away, and some powerful psychological motivations behind the “sick soul” mentality that underlies it; we would expect nothing less from a philosophy that has attracted so many adherents. But while psychological defense mechanisms may make good followers, they rarely make good practice, and detailed examination makes the “sickness” look increasingly more diseased. The possibility, likelihood, and even desirability of a large-scale uptake of a more healthy and world-affirming approach are subjects of equal debate, but the foregoing analysis should make the benefits of such an approach clear.