The joy of being wrong

I mentioned the somewhat unlikely title of this book, ‘The joy of being wrong’, when I wrote about Peter and Paul. One of the things they have in common is a confession of going wrong, and of recognising their mistakes. They are not unique.

The most memorable book by one of the theologians of the early church is St. Augustine’s ‘Confessions’, in which he describes his youth as a pagan before coming to Christianity as an adult. The very title of this autobiographical book expresses the joy he found in being able to admit he had been wrong in his search for God. He rejected pagan religions and found faith as a Christian. And he describes how hard it was to give up his sinful life. Indeed, he constantly wrote that it just isn’t possible to be perfectly good all the time.

We keep going wrong all our lives. St. Paul writes, (Romans 7)  ‘When I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.’

We can see what we ought to do, but don’t do it. And for this reason, people have imagined that God, who is perfect, must have created a perfect world without any ‘mistakes’ but that later it went wrong. This ‘going wrong’ came to be known as ‘The Fall’ and people have imagined there was an original perfection. But modern science reveals that this isn’t so. Random change, ‘going wrong’, has always happened, and without this nothing new could ever have happened in the whole of the 14 billion years that the universe has existed.

Many people of faith, not just Christians, are disturbed by the idea from scientists that changes, and evolution, appear to be just random. They ask ‘Why would the creator choose such and inefficient and unthinking method as randomness to drive creation? Doesn’t it make God look like a bad engineer?’

In a paper presented to the Faraday Institute in Cambridge, the physicist Prof. Russell Cowburn presented an alternative view.

  • Without random energy fluctuations, the universe would be cold. There would be no stars, no evolution, and no life. Everything we know springs from randomness. It isn’t an afterthought but is central to the nature of the universe.
  • The heart of physics is quantum mechanics which studies randomness. The best engineers harness this randomness to make many essential tools, including steel, transformers and nuclear reactors.

In short, the entire universe has been random and hence ‘going wrong’ since the beginning of time. There never was any kind of perfection and never will be. From the moment the first living organism emerged it was, ‘going wrong’. This failure to reproduce exactly is precisely what allowed all the myriad life forms on earth to appear.

So, whilst a reading of Genesis might suggest that ‘going wrong’ is what got Adam and Eve thrown out of the Garden of Eden, this interpretation of the story is founded on a mistake about the whole nature of creation. ‘Going wrong’ is central to all life: a child learns to walk by falling down and correcting the mistakes of overbalancing.

Jesus understood this perfectly from the very outset of his ministry. When he heals a paralysed man whose friends lowered him through the roof of a house he says ‘Son, your sins are forgiven.’ Later, Jesus deliberately calls a tax collector, someone known to be ‘sinner’ because of the way he makes his money, to be a disciple. We are then told that When the scribes of the Pharisees saw that he was eating with sinners and tax-collectors, they said to his disciples, ‘Why does he eat with tax-collectors and sinners?’ When Jesus heard this, he said to them, ‘Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.’ Mark 2.16-17. Nobody is without sin. Jesus calls people who admit they go wrong and try to do better.

We should apply this understanding to our present situation. We can’t expect political leaders or health professionals to get it right every time. The threat from the virus was completely unknown, and indeed, seems to have been concealed in the country where it first emerged. No-one could know perfectly what to do. We need to recognise this. What we and our leaders should do is admit to making mistakes and learn from them. That is the only way we can save not only ourselves but the whole human race. We all need to find ‘the joy of being wrong’, admit our failings and try to do better. That, for Peter and Paul, Augustine, health officials and politicians, for all of us everywhere, is what God calls us to do.

The joy of being wrong, James Alison, Herder and Herder, 1998

Making sense of randomness in the physical world, lecture by Prof Russell Cowburn FRS

Peter and Paul

Peter and Paul, 29th June and ‘The joy of being Wrong’

It may seem curious that Peter and Paul, the greatest of the apostles, have to share this feast day when some of the less well-known followers of Jesus get a day all to themselves. There is a reason. The tradition is that both were martyred in Rome on this day, so we remember them together.

But we often want to separate them out. Petertide for us marks the season for ordinations, and here we are celebrating the patronal festival of St. Peter’s Church. The Norman archway and the fabulous font witness to the fact that this was a parish church long before the university of Cambridge existed. Clustered around the castle on the hill, and stretching down to the river crossing, this was the heart of Cambridge. Today we remember Peter here.

So, on this very day, what of Paul? Two years ago Gill and I went with my brother Ivor, who lives in Greece to the ruins of ancient Corinth. There, we found that on this day they remember Paul. Today, at this very hour, (our service was at 6 pm) in the ruins of the ancient city of Corinth, it is St. Paul who is remembered in a service of solemn vespers led by the bishop in the open air. Paul had lived and worked here with leather workers and tent makers, with whom he shared his faith in the synagogue. But this provoked a disagreement, and some of the synagogue members brought him to be tried before the Roman governor. The site of the trial would have been the large raised marble platform, the Bema, which still dominates the centre of the Forum. What took place there could have turned out like Jesus’ trial before Pilate, with an angry mob yelling for Paul’s execution on grounds of heresy. But, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles (Ch 18, verses 12-17) , Gallio, the governor, wanted no part in what he considered to be an internal Jewish argument. Paul lived to fight, and write, another day. So, at this rostrum, this evening, the Greeks of Corinth are, with their bishop, celebrating the Great Vespers in honour of Paul.

What interests me today, on this feast day of Peter and Paul  is not the differences and individualities of these great characters, about whom we know so much from the New Testament. What I would like to celebrate today is one of their chief similarities, which, as you will soon realise, is the title of one of my favourite theological books. The book is called ‘The Joy of Being Wrong’. It may sound like a contradiction in terms to say, ‘The Joy of Being Wrong’, but in fact we know more about the wrongdoing of Peter and Paul than of any other saint in scripture.

Peter, having started well by seeing that Jesus is the Christ, thinks he has to turn Jesus away from Jerusalem and is rebuked in the words ‘Get behind me, Satan.’ But he tries again, and then, most famously, boasts at the Last Supper that he will never desert Jesus. He is then told that he will do so three times, before the cock crows to announce the dawn. The unforgettable image of Peter with the accusing cockerel has inspired artists from earliest times. And, if we accept the tradition that Mark’s gospel is in fact a digest of Peter’s sermons, Peter glories in telling us how many times he got it wrong. Think of the storm on Galilee. There was Peter, with the other disciples, scared stiff and begging Jesus to wake up. It doesn’t do the big fisherman much credit, does it? No. It’s again the joy of admitting he was wrong.

Paul, as the pious Pharisee Saul, had thought he was doing right in persecuting the early Christian Church. The story of his wrongdoing, followed by his seeing a vision whilst on the way to Damascus, is told three times over in the Acts of the Apostles, and also by Paul himself in his letter to the Galatians.

Both Peter and Paul know ‘The Joy of Being Wrong’, or rather the joy of admitting they were wrong and discovering God’s forgiveness. For this reason I am happy to admit that I feel closer to these saints than to many others whose lives seem so perfect and untarnished by sin. God uses sinners to do his work. For as Jesus had said when he told his parable of the two debtors, the one with a trifling debt and the one with a massive burden, it is the debtor who has been forgiven most who will love the lender more. The love which Peter and Paul showed, taking the good news to the very heart of the Roman empire at the risk of their lives, founded Christianity as a world religion.

At its heart is the realisation that God is Love. God is love and God forgives. He forgives, and when we realise how much we are loved and forgiven, he empowers us to do his work.

Following Peter and Paul let us admit our faults, and then, in the strength of that forgiveness, go on doing the work of God. It isn’t at all the way of the world. Make a mistake, in government, in business, in anything, and there are cries for resignations and sackings. And those who take over afterwards are then frozen into inactivity because the fear of going wrong is greater than the challenge of seizing the opportunity to do good.

Jesus will have none of this. He takes people like us, earthen vessels, and makes us his people. He remakes us in his image. He calls us out of darkness to live his marvellous light.

Today, on this feast of Peter, we live in the strength which the risen Christ gave to him, ‘Whosoever’s sins you forgive, they are forgiven’. Released from the power of their sins, Peter and Paul were freed to obey the command to ‘feed my sheep’.

Today, knowing the joy of being wrong and being released from our sins, let us rejoice in God’s forgiveness, rejoice in his love, and rejoice to share that love with all.