You Are Responsible for All Men's Sins

There is only one way to salvation, and that is to make yourself responsible for all men's sins. As soon as you make yourself responsible in all sincerity for everything and for everyone, you will see at once that this is really so, and that you are in fact to blame for everyone and for all things.

- Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

Please take a moment to read (or reread) the quote at the top of this post. If it’s true (and I think it is), the ramifications are astounding, humbling – and quite frightening. 

Why would I, then, promote something that could insight fear? 

Fear is an interesting thing. Many people fear being afraid, yet in being fearful of being afraid, we choose (and yes, it’s a choice) to utilize that very thing we claim to fear (i.e., fear itself) to combat the fear we’d like to avoid. 

Don’t misunderstand me, fear is a good, God-given emotion, one that, when wielded rightly, keeps us safe in many situations. However, in the cases I mentioned above (i.e., when we use fear as a fix for fear itself), we become stagnant – and even harmful to ourselves and those around us (more on this in a moment). 

Of course, we all have things of which we are fearful, whether rationally or irrationally. 

And these things of which we are afraid do not have to be anything concrete. For instance, many are afraid of failure (truly an arbitrary and abstract term), so they remain stagnant, instead of pursuing what they want to do (or feel called to do). Also, some fear the mere process of doing something. 

I fit into these categories quite well (I’m not sure if that’s the appropriate adverb to use, but I trust you get what I mean.). 

As you may be aware, I enjoy writing, and if I may, I feel called to do so. However, as someone who daily wrestles with OCD, the act of writing causes me quite a bit of stress–and fear–and I don’t mean in the general sense. When I try to construct a single sentence, including this very one I’m writing, I will likely spend several minutes getting the words onto the page, not because I don’t know what I want to say, but because I won’t even type out the words until I feel like they are perfect (and because I’m not perfect in any area of my life, the words are never perfect). Then, I’ll read back over a single sentence and the paragraph in which it’s in many times, looking for any adjustments that need to be made (I know I’m not alone in this, so I’m sure there are many who can relate.), which, many times, leads to a stalemate between me and the article, book, etc. Yes, this does save a lot of time in the editing stages of writing; however, since it’s so mentally taxing on the front end, I fear even starting a project, no matter its size; again, this fear isn’t merely a fear of the project’s potential to not reach an intended (and arbitrary) goal, but it’s a fear of simply engaging in the act, because what if I sit there for hours and don’t write anything? (which has happened).

I used to think this was quite ironic: I do enjoy writing, even though it sparks a lot of fear in me. 

However, I don’t really think it’s ironic, or if it is, it shouldn’t be. 

Anything worth doing takes discipline (I’m sure someone else has said this before; by writing it here, I’m not suggesting that this thought is original to me. The only way in which it is original with me is, I’m beginning to understand and choose to believe it.). Depending on your worldview, we may have different definitions of what we consider “worth doing” (No, I’m not suggesting worth, goodness, etc. are totally subjective terms.), but the principle does remain: anything worth doing takes discipline. 

This discipline is what, I think, most of us, including myself, are afraid of, and we use our fear, whether warranted or not, as an excuse not to be disciplined in what we believe we should do. 

Consider this: one of the most famous verses in the Bible says, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom” (c.f., Proverbs 1:6, emphasis mine). 

According to God’s Word, fear, when properly focused, is the beginning of something, not the end. The LORD doesn’t intend for us to live in a state of fear to the point where we are frozen; we should use it to act (So it’s clear: I reject the notion that Solomon’s use of “fear” in Proverbs only refers to “respect”.). 

If a parent is afraid his children may burn their hand on a hot stove, he will ingrain a healthy fear of hot surfaces in them – to the end that the children will know how to act properly in response to seeing a hot surface, not as a means to indefinitely restrict them from using hot surfaces. The latter is utter foolishness, for any parent will want his children to know how to respond appropriately to a stove, for instance, so they are able to utilize it for good purposes. 

And when we, by God’s grace and the help of the Holy Spirit, fear the LORD, we learn how to respond rightly (i.e., wisely) to situations. 

Now, how does any of this relate to the aforementioned quote from The Brothers Karamazov? 

As I mentioned earlier, the implications that every individual is responsible for not only his own actions, but also the actions of the other individuals around him, can be quite scary. 

Again, though, just because this reality may frighten us, we must not use that potential fear as an excuse not to act for the good of our proverbial (or literal) neighbors. 

If we do, the consequences are dire – eternally so. 

To be clear, Dostoyevsky was a Christian, and he is not arguing that, if we do enough kind acts to those around us, those kind acts, in and of themselves, will save the beneficiaries from damnation. Similarly, he’s not saying that, on Judgment Day, God will line each of us up and ask, “Why did you make your neighbor steal that food when he was hungry?” 

He is, however, imploring the reader to consider the following: 

• What gifts has God given you that could point people to the true source of salvation, namely Christ Himself, if you would be disciplined in utilizing these skills, instead of living in fear of the possibility that you won’t reach anyone or living in fear that you may miss a nap or have to go to bed later and will be tired the next day? And what sins of others could be avoided if you were obedient to the Great Commission and taught people obedience to Christ through your skills?

• What encouraging words could you share with someone who is spiraling into the abyss of depression and self-deprecation to help bring them out of that, if you would fear the LORD, instead of man, and discipline yourself to overcome social anxiety and rejection (These encouraging words are not exclusive to words of affirmation; many times, encouraging words may come in the form of correction or admonishment.)? And what sins of others could be avoided if they heard your words and were comforted by them (and no, I’m not saying depression is inherently sinful)?

• What sacrifice could you make to help someone in need, if you would fear the LORD and trust Him to provide for you and your family, as He said He would, instead of fearing that you or your family may go without such a secure (whatever that means) future and/or retirement? And what sins of others could be avoided if, through your sacrifice, you met their needs, so they weren’t even in a situation where they have to consider stealing food to feed themselves and their family? 

• What daily activity that you know is a waste of time (e.g., scrolling social media for hours, mindlessly playing video games, watching TV from the time you get home from work until you go to bed, etc.) could you give up to do something productive in the service of others? And what sins of others could be avoided if, instead of mindlessly wasting your time, you served them? 

• I must add: I’m not saying that having a social media account, playing video games, or watching TV are inherently bad. Some people use them appropriately for relaxation or to connect with others around them; these are good uses. However, if all you do when you have time away from your job is scroll social media, play video games, or watch TV, that needs to change – for your own sake, as well as the sake of others around you. Grow up, get up, and do something meaningful. 

We, especially those of us in the United States, are grossly obsessed with our individualism (and to my conservative friends, no, this is not restricted to those in the LGBT community), and we seek to preserve it at all costs – even being willing to sacrifice our souls, and the souls of those around us, on this altar of individualism. 

And the fact that seemingly mundane acts of kindness or service will have an exponential effect on those around us serves only to intensify the vulgarity of this individualism. 

Recently, I was reminded of the song Feed the Birds (Tuppence a Bag), written by Richard and Robert Sherman and sung by Julie Andrews in Mary Poppins (For the sake of space, I won’t include the lyrics here, but I urge you to read them and/or listen to the song.). In it, Andrews tells a story of an elderly woman who visits daily the stairs of a church and beckons people to spend a penny or two to purchase a bag of bread crumbs from her to feed the hungry birds. As you listen to the song, though, you realize the main point isn’t about feeding birds (though, that’s a noble act as well); it’s about actively caring for those around you, even through acts that may seem insignificant or a waste of time, and that caring for others is worth small sacrifices (e.g., in the context of the song, people would have to sacrifice time and money to buy the feed, as well as comfortability, as the bird woman appears homeless, or, at least, quite poor, and would likely be covered in bird excrement and a foul odor).

• As an aside, I must comment on the significance of the woman’s choosing to sit on the steps of a church as she calls for others to love one another: the Church has the words of eternal life given to her by Christ (c.f., John 6:68), and it’s her responsibility, in obedience to Christ (c.f., Matthew 28:19-20), to make sacrifices to share those words with others.

Further, though the bird woman is poor, she is actively following in the footsteps of the saints and apostles who went on before her, saints and apostles who are smiling upon her (to use the song’s lyrics); she doesn’t use her monetary restrictions to stop her from serving others. Continuing, Feed the Birds is contrasted by the two songs between which it’s sandwiched: A British Bank (The Life I Lead) and Fidelity Fiduciary Bank, both of which focus on the supposed importance of not veering from so-called practical lives. For example (and quite comically), when Michael, the young boy whom Mary Poppins nannies, says he wants to use his money to feed the birds, an old banker shouts, “Fiddlesticks, boy!”, and later in the number, when Michael is insistent to feed the birds, the same banker proclaims, “While stand the banks of England, England stands!” To these banking elites, self-preservation and the alleged sustaining of the whole, so to speak, is worth sacrificing the immediate needs of the individuals around them. Also, in their opposition to Michael’s proposal, several bankers swarm the boy and his sister Jane, saying practical investments are necessary for the future of humanity. The bankers’ “solution” of investments, which is laden with banking jargon, in response to Michael’s simple desire to feed the birds intensifies the contrast to the old bird woman’s straightforward message of actively loving one’s neighbors – a message that a child can understand, and one that doesn’t need technical language to explain (I encourage you to listen to the three songs I mentioned and pay attention to the lyrics; the Sherman brothers charmingly capture the truth that small things create a true lasting impact, if we will but make sacrifices for others.).

No, in this post, I’m not suggesting that, simply in the name of sacrifice, we shouldn’t care for our families, save for the future, or rest. These are all good things – to the extent that they result in something that moves past ourselves (And to address another objection that may arise: no, I’m not saying it’s bad for us to own a house or a car or clothes, etc., things that are used on a more personal level; however, with these things, do we own them with open hands, being willing to use them or sacrifice them in the service of others in the Name of Christ?). 

This is what Dostoyevsky is (and I am, on a much less elegant level) postulating. 

Nothing (and I mean that literally) you or I do only affects ourselves, or even those immediately around us – and the truth of that reality should healthily frighten us, to the point that we are spurred into action. 

The following quote from Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell, who is not a Christian to my knowledge, hints at this reality: “My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?”.

Obviously, I would have an objection to the naturalistic undertones of such a statement, but given the context of the book as a whole, Mitchell is also suggesting that no one is truly insignificant, because we are all connected, and therefore, what we do always affects those around us (The book is ripe with the idea of the transmigration of souls, which I wholeheartedly reject; I’m offering this aside, so no one assumes that I adhere to Mitchell’s worldview.). 

This quote is quite beautiful, nonetheless, and there’s something to it that we, as Christians, should reclaim in the Name of Christ and for the advancement of His Kingdom. By the grace of God, we are much more than a drop in a limitless ocean; every human is created in the image of God, one for whom Christ died, and the ramifications of such a glorious reality are truly eternal. 

As I close, I admonish you to grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ (c.f., 2 Peter 3:18), and choose to be disciplined in pursuing that to which you have been called and in utilizing that with which you have been gifted – for the eternal good of everyone around you, for you are responsible for all men’s sins.