Month: April 2026

A Misdiagnosis

In 1982, two Australian doctors upended gastroenterology with a discovery: stomach ulcers, long treated with medications, bland diets, and stress reduction, weren’t caused by excess acid. The real culprit was a bacterium. Treat the bacteria, and the ulcers disappeared.

This illustrates a principle far wider than medicine: when we focus on symptoms, we misdiagnose the root cause. Nowhere does this cost more than in our understanding of sin — and of the gospel that addresses it.

Humanity’s Ulcer

Most people agree humanity has a problem. War, injustice, greed, despair — the symptoms are everywhere. But what is the cause?

The Christian answer is original sin. But a superficial diagnosis oversimplifies it. We may treat the symptoms while leaving the bacterium untouched.

What Is Sin — Really?

Most people recognize they fall short of their own moral standards. Christians often frame this against the Ten Commandments. But if we define sin too narrowly — as mere moral failure — we risk misdiagnosing the human condition and underrepresenting the gospel.

When Paul wrote to the Colossians, he described their former condition in three dimensions: alienated from God (a relational issue), hostile toward God (a political issue), and engaged in evil deeds (a moral issue). In one statement, he identified both the symptoms and the cause.

The most common biblical words for sin — Hebrew chāṭāʼ and Greek hamartia — both mean “to miss the mark.” But this raises a critical question: what is the target?

Romans 3:23 is precise: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Most read this as breaking God’s moral rules, which is not wrong but incomplete. The glory of God encompasses his character and holiness, the dignity and destiny he assigned humanity at creation, and his sovereign authority and purpose. Sin, then, is not merely moral failure. It is a failure of identity, purpose, and allegiance: a comprehensive rupture with God, with ourselves, and with our created design.

The Heart of the Matter

If behavior is the fruit, what is the root? Scripture is consistent: the heart.

Jeremiah cuts through surface behavior to the inner condition: “The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick” (17:9). In biblical anthropology, the heart is the integrated center of thought, will, desire, and moral orientation. Jeremiah’s diagnosis is blunt; it is beyond self-repair.

Jesus builds on this: “From within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts… immorality, theft, murder” (Mark 7:21–23). What comes out of a person flows from what is already inside. Sinful behaviors are downstream from a disordered heart.

This matters immensely. A gospel that addresses only behavior treats the fruit while leaving the root untouched.

From Diseased Heart to Enthroned Self

What exactly is wrong with the heart? The disease is not primarily weakness or ignorance. It is self-enthronement — the heart’s insistence on governing itself, placing the self at the center where God alone belongs.

This is the thread running from the Garden forward. Adam and Eve didn’t simply make a mistake. They chose their own judgment over God’s word, their own rule over His. Frank Sinatra’s My Way is, theologically speaking, the anthem of the Fall — I will govern myself. What felt like freedom was actually slavery. In grasping for autonomy, they became enslaved to sin and a kingdom oriented entirely around the self.

A.W. Tozer captured it plainly: “A moral being, created to worship before the throne of God, sits on the throne of his own selfhood and declares, ‘I AM’.”  R.C. Sproul added: “Every sin, no matter how seemingly insignificant, is an act of treason against the cosmic King.”

Their shared conclusion: humanity’s core problem is not primarily immorality — it is autonomy. Self-rule.

The Tale of Two Kings

Two kings illustrate this vividly. When Samuel rebuked Saul for disobedience, he named the root: rebellion and insubordination. Saul responded with excuses and managed his appearances. He treated the symptom. The disease remained.

When Nathan confronted David — not just for adultery and murder, but for despising God himself — David’s response was Psalm 51: “Create in me a clean heart, O God.” David understood the problem went deeper than behavior, and so did his prayer.

Saul managed his sin. David repented of his sin nature. The gospel calls us to David’s posture.

The Gospel’s Cure: More Than Forgiveness

If this is the diagnosis, the gospel must be as large as the problem it addresses.

If sin were merely moral failure, forgiveness would be sufficient — pay the debt, clear the record. But sin is far more. It is a diseased heart, rebellion, misdirected worship, a self enthroned where God belongs.

Paul describes the transaction in Colossians 1:13–14: God “has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”

Notice the scope. This is not only forgiveness — it is a kingdom transfer. A change of dominion. A reorientation of allegiance. The rebel is not merely pardoned; he is brought home and given a new identity as a citizen of a new kingdom. Jesus doesn’t merely forgive rebels. He recruits them, redeems them, and restores the proper order of their loves — re-enthroning God at the center of a life built to worship him.

The gospel is not merely about getting us into heaven. It is about bringing us under a new King.

Summary

A superficial diagnosis of sin is one of the most dangerous distortions of the gospel. When we reduce sin to behavior and morality, we treat symptoms while ignoring the root. Humanity’s core problem is not merely wrongdoing; it is rebellion. A dethroned God. An enthroned self.

The cure is as deep as the disease. Rebels can come home.

Summary: Gospel Pathogens and Their Cure

Throughout this series, we have been identifying what we might call gospel pathogens—distortions that weaken, shrink, or misdirect the message of the gospel.

Like a medical misdiagnosis, each of these pathogens alters how we understand and present the gospel.

What we have seen in this article is that one of the most dangerous distortions is a superficial diagnosis of sin. But it is not the only one.

1. Fragmentism (TADB 150)

Effect: Reduces the gospel narrative to only a few events, often isolating the cross from the larger story.
Cure: Recover and proclaim the full narrative of Jesus—the complete story of the Risen King (see TADB 138–144).

2. Reductionism (TADB 151)

Effect: Shrinks the meaning of the cross to atonement alone—offering forgiveness while neglecting Christ’s victory over sin, death, and Satan.
Cure: Proclaim the cross in its fullness—both atonement and victory (Christus Victor).

3. Narcissism (TADB 157)

Effect: Re-centers the gospel on personal benefit, turning it into a message about me rather than about the King and His kingdom.
Cure: Recover the gospel as reconciliation with the King and a transfer of allegiance—from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of light.

4. Superficialism (TADB 158)

Effect: Reduces sin to behavior and morality, treating symptoms while ignoring the root.
Cure: Recognize that humanity’s core problem is not merely wrongdoing but rebellion—a dethroned God and an enthroned self that requires a new heart and a new King.

Coming Next

In future blogs, we will explore other gospel pathogens such as Syncretism, Postmodernism, and Commercialism, examining their effects and cures.

For Reflection

1.  Why do you think people tend to focus on symptoms rather than root causes—both medically and spiritually?

2.  In your own words, how would you define sin after reading this article? How is that different from how you’ve thought about it before?

3.  Jesus says that sin flows from the heart (Mark 7:21–23). How does that challenge the idea that our main problem is behavior or environment?

4.  What does “self-enthronement” look like in everyday life? Where do you see it in yourself or in culture?

5.  How does viewing sin as rebellion (not just rule-breaking) change how you understand the gospel?

Narcissism comes from the Greek myth of Narcissus, a man so captivated by his own reflection that he could not look away. Consumed by his self-fixation, he eventually wasted away from thirst, hunger, and longing.

Today, the term describes a broad spectrum of excessive self-focus on desires, appearance, achievements, and status. It ranges from normal self-interest to selfishness or, in its most extreme form, a psychological disorder known as Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD).

The pathogen forms when healthy self-esteem and personal identity turn inward, resulting in self-absorption, isolation, a lack of empathy, and the breakdown of community.

Our tendency toward self-centeredness appears early in life. No one has to teach a toddler to say “mine.” We arrive wired to believe that what is mine is mine and what is yours is mine. Scripture traces this inward focus back to the Fall in Genesis. But narcissism is more than simple self-interest; it occurs when the self becomes the center through which everything else is interpreted.

The Rise of a “Me-Centered” Culture

Given our natural inclination toward self-interest, it is not surprising that post-war American culture has increasingly adopted a “me-centered” outlook.

In his classic book The Culture of Narcissism (1979), social critic Christopher Lasch argued that Western society had shifted from valuing achievement and responsibility toward increasing self-absorption and image management.

Social media has only amplified this trend. Platforms encourage constant self-promotion, image curation, and personal branding. When this becomes normal, families, workplaces, and even churches can begin to feel more shallow, transactional, and disconnected.

Sociologists and psychologists observe several patterns in this cultural shift:

• Self-absorption over self-denial
• Autonomy over authority
• Personal fulfillment over communal responsibility
• Therapeutic spirituality over transcendent truth

Abraham Maslow popularized the idea that once our basic needs are satisfied, our ultimate goal becomes self-actualization. Yet the pursuit of self-actualization often resembles a dog chasing a car; we pursue it endlessly without being quite sure what it is or what we would do if we caught it.

When the Gospel Becomes About Me

Like a virus infecting healthy cells, a narcissistic gospel feeds on the self it claims to heal.

It can be tempting to assume that reaching self-focused people requires presenting the gospel primarily in terms of personal benefits. While the gospel certainly brings profound blessings (forgiveness, purpose, and eternal life) when those benefits become the starting point, the focus subtly shifts from God’s glory to our gain.

Jesus did not present discipleship this way.

In Luke 9, three men expressed interest in following Him. Rather than promising them comfort or personal fulfillment, Jesus confronted their expectations. There was no bait-and-switch—no attractive offer hiding difficult terms. His first offer was the cross.

“Take up your cross” was not a side note. It was the central invitation.

When the gospel becomes centered on my salvation, my purpose, or my best life, it quietly changes its shape. Instead of calling us to die to ourselves, it becomes a pathway to self-fulfillment.

When Worship Becomes About Feeling

Corporate worship can drift in the same direction. Instead of asking, “Was God glorified?” the focus shifts toward “Did I feel moved?” or “What did I gain from the experience?”

When the church becomes merely a spiritual service provider rather than a covenant family, discipleship becomes optional—more like an elective than a calling.

The center slowly moves from God to self.

The Antidote for Narcissism: “Who Do You Play For?”

The 1980 film Miracle tells the story of the U.S. Olympic hockey team’s unexpected victory over the Soviet Union. But the real miracle was not just the win—it was how a group of individuals became a team.

Coach Herb Brooks often asked new players a simple question:

“What’s your name and who do you play for?”

The players would proudly respond with the name of their university.

After a disappointing loss in Oslo, Brooks ran the team through a brutal late-night practice of wind sprints on the ice. Exhausted and gasping for air, a faint voice could be heard:

“Mike Eruzione.”

“Where are you from?” Brooks asked.

“Massachusetts.”

“Who do you play for?”

Eruzione paused, then answered:

“The United States of America.”

Brooks stopped the drill and said,

“Remember, men, the name on the front of your jersey is a lot more important than the one on the back.”

Lesson learned: they were no longer playing for themselves.

The Kingdom: The Cure for Narcissism

The gospel of the Kingdom invites us into a far larger story than our own. It calls us to exchange our self-centered identity for a new one, moving our name from the front of the jersey to the back with His name on the front.

Four truths counter the narcissism pathogen.

1. The Gospel focuses on God before it focuses on us.

The gospel begins with God’s glory, purposes, and kingdom—not our personal fulfillment.

2. Grace calls us to transformation, not just affirmation.

Jesus does not simply improve the old self; He crucifies it.

3. The Cross defines the Christian life.

“If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me” (Luke 9:23).

4. Discipleship is a communal journey.

We grow into Christlikeness together, not in isolation.

A New Significance

We all long for significance, but it is not found in our own small story. It is discovered in the larger story of God’s Kingdom.

I once met an elderly man at a golf driving range. As we talked, I asked what he had done before retiring. He told me he had coached high school football in Kansas City for many years.

Curious, I asked if he had ever played football himself.

His eyes lit up as he described his journey—from high school to college and eventually to the NFL.

Then he walked over to his golf bag, retrieved a neatly folded white handkerchief, and slowly unwrapped it. Inside was the largest ring I had ever seen.

“Wow,” I said. “Is that a Super Bowl ring?”

“Yes,” he replied with a quiet smile. “I played for the Kansas City Chiefs with Len Dawson when we won the 1970 Super Bowl.”

Then he looked down at the ring and asked, “Would you like to hold it?”

He was not a starter—but that did not matter. He was part of a championship team.

The bigger the story, the greater the significance.

In the same way, our ultimate worth is not found in our personal story but in belonging to God’s vast, expanding, eternal Kingdom.

Freedom from Self

Since the Fall, humanity has lived apart from God’s story—like the prodigal son in a distant country.

But the miracle of the gospel is that we are invited home. We are called to surrender our self-rule and live once again under the Father’s loving authority.

Yet we cannot return on our own terms. The only way home is through the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.

This gospel does not feed our obsession with self; it frees us from it. It invites us into something infinitely larger:

• His story.
• His Kingdom.
• His glory.

The Critical Question

Coach Brooks’ question still echoes today:

Who do you play for?

Ultimately, the name on the front of the jersey—the Name above every name—is the only one that truly matters.

This article is part of a series exploring cultural and theological distortions that can infect our understanding of the gospel. Like biological pathogens, these ideas may appear harmless but they can reshape the message of Christ if left unchecked.

For Reflection

1. Where do you see signs of “me-centered” thinking in our culture and in the church?
2. How does Jesus’ call to “deny yourself” challenge the messages we hear today?
3. What does it look like to “play for the Name on the front of the jersey” in daily life?
4. How can a community of believers help us resist the drift toward self-absorption?
5. Which of the four “antidote truths” most challenges or inspires you personally?