The Fundamentals of Faith: Confronting Our Fallen Nature

The Fundamentals of Faith: Confronting Our Fallen Nature

In the world of professional football, there's a legendary story about coach Vince Lombardi that serves as a powerful metaphor for our spiritual lives. After a disappointing loss in the 1960 NFL Championship, Lombardi began the next season's training camp by holding up a football and declaring, "Gentlemen, this is a football!" He then proceeded to teach his team the most basic fundamentals of the game.

This approach might seem simplistic for professional athletes, but it led to an incredible turnaround. The Green Bay Packers went on to win five NFL Championships in seven years, and Lombardi never coached a losing season again. The lesson? Sometimes, to move forward, we need to go back to basics.

In our spiritual lives, we often find ourselves in need of a similar reset. We may think we've progressed beyond the fundamentals, but like those seasoned football players, we too can benefit from revisiting the core truths of our faith. The Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Romans, provides us with just such a "back to basics" moment.

In Romans 1:18-32, Paul delivers what we might call his "this is a football" speech to the early church. He transitions from discussing God's righteousness to addressing human unrighteousness, reminding us of our fallen state and the consequences of turning away from God.

Paul begins by addressing a topic that many contemporary Christians find uncomfortable: the wrath of God. "For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and wickedness of those who by their wickedness suppress the truth." This divine wrath isn't a popular subject in many churches today, but Paul—and the Old Testament before him—doesn't shy away from it.

From Moses' reluctance to lead, to Pharaoh's defiance, to Israel's idolatry at Mount Sinai, the Bible is replete with examples of God's wrath in response to human rebellion. As theologian Anders Nygren puts it, "As long as God is God, He cannot behold with indifference that His creation is destroyed and His holy will trodden underfoot." God's wrath, Paul reminds us, is inextricably linked to His righteousness.

But why does Paul feel the need to remind us of this? Because, like Lombardi's football players, we often forget the fundamentals. We lose sight of our own sinfulness and our desperate need for God's grace.

This brings us to the heart of Paul's message. In a litany of human failings, he lists not just sexual sins, but a comprehensive catalog of moral failures: wickedness, evil, greed, malice, envy, murder, strife, deceit, gossip, slander, arrogance, rebelliousness, heartlessness, and more. It's a sobering list that leaves no one untouched.

In reading this list, we might be tempted to point fingers, to identify the sins of others while overlooking our own. But Paul's point is much broader and more personal. He's reminding us that all of us—every single one—know better. We're all made in God's image, and we all innately understand how we're supposed to treat one another. Yet we choose to ignore this knowledge, to "suppress the truth" as Paul puts it.

This universal fallenness leads to a startling conclusion. If someone were to ask us, "What's wrong with the world today?", the only honest answer we could give is, "I am." Like the author G.K. Chesterton, who reportedly responded to this very question with a simple "Dear Sir, I am. Yours, G.K. Chesterton," we must confront our own contribution to the world's brokenness.

Paul goes even further, pointing out that there are those who not only commit sinful acts but also "applaud others who practice them." In a way, this approval of evil is even more insidious than the acts themselves. As biblical scholar Douglas Moo explains, "the person who commits a sin under the influence of strong temptation is less reprehensible than the one who dispassionately agrees with and encourages a sin for which he or she feels no strong attraction."

So where does this leave us? Like Lombardi's football players, we find ourselves back at the beginning, confronted with the most basic truths of our faith. We are fallen. We are sinful. We are in desperate need of God's grace.

But here's the good news: just as Lombardi's return to fundamentals led to unprecedented success, our acknowledgment of these fundamental truths opens the door to transformation. By recognizing our own sinfulness and turning to God in humility, we position ourselves to receive His grace and to be changed by His love.

This is the paradox at the heart of the Christian faith. It's only when we admit our weakness that we can experience God's strength. It's only when we confront our sinfulness that we can truly appreciate the depth of God's forgiveness. And it's only when we acknowledge what's wrong with us that we can begin to be part of what's right with the world.

So let's take a page from Vince Lombardi's playbook. Let's not be afraid to go back to basics, to confront the uncomfortable truths about ourselves, and to lean into the transformative power of God's grace. Because in the end, it's not about how good we are—it's about how good God is, and how His love can change us from the inside out.

As we reflect on these truths, may we have the courage to look inward, the humility to admit our faults, and the faith to believe that God's grace is sufficient for us. For it's in this place of honesty and vulnerability that we find not condemnation, but the liberating power of God's love and the promise of transformation.