What you did learn, repeatedly, was that it doesn't matter one bit how much good you do in this lifetime.
No matter how much you give, or for how long, or how hard you try...
...All it takes is one mistake to make you irredeemable.
- Irredeemable #24
by Make Waid, Peter Krause, and Diego Barreto
I am irredeemable.
Wait. Back up. Let me start over.
The namesake of Irredeemable comes from the premise of the benevolent Plutonian going berserk and killing millions of people. The world that used to love him now fears and hates him. A lifetime of goodwill has been forever lost, and no matter what the Plutonian does, his reputation cannot be restored. He is irredeemable.
I think we've all known someone like that, whether personally or in the celebrity spotlight. They fall from our graces with no hope of ever returning to the status quo. We have probably all been that irredeemable person in some circumstance or another. We've all disappointed or betrayed loved ones and friends with no chance of mending those relationships. We're all irredeemable.
Okay, look, I use the collective "we" a lot because I feel many of the issues addressed in Wednesday Theology are fairly universal to the human experience. But I admit it also helps dissipate my own personal responsibility and blame. Any time I critique or condemn something, I'm also critiquing myself. If I ever sound self-righteous or arrogant here, I sincerely apologize. I am aware that I criticize Christianity and the church quite often, but that just happens to be a main thrust of the theology in graphic literature.
I am as guilty as anyone else. Probably more so. The first thing to know about Christians is that we are all hypocrites. We condemn the very things we are guilty of perpetrating. It's a vicious quandary. But, hey, at least I admit it.
Anyway, if I am irredeemable in they eyes of other humans, think how much more sorrowful my state is in the eyes of God. I have failed and disobeyed him beyond measure. Really, I never had a chance. "For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). In the eyes of God, I am most definitely irredeemable.
But wait! Here's where it gets rather trippy. A lot of Wednesday Theology laments the problem of suffering and questions why a good God allows bad things to happen to us. From a grand perspective, what motivation would he have to stop such bad things? Considering how much we disobey and reject him, why would he allow any good things to happen to us? We are all irredeemable. And yet, for some bewildering reason, he loves us enough to offer redemption at a great personal cost to himself.
I am irredeemable.
Yet I am redeemed.
Wait. Back up. Let me start over.
The namesake of Irredeemable comes from the premise of the benevolent Plutonian going berserk and killing millions of people. The world that used to love him now fears and hates him. A lifetime of goodwill has been forever lost, and no matter what the Plutonian does, his reputation cannot be restored. He is irredeemable.
I think we've all known someone like that, whether personally or in the celebrity spotlight. They fall from our graces with no hope of ever returning to the status quo. We have probably all been that irredeemable person in some circumstance or another. We've all disappointed or betrayed loved ones and friends with no chance of mending those relationships. We're all irredeemable.
Okay, look, I use the collective "we" a lot because I feel many of the issues addressed in Wednesday Theology are fairly universal to the human experience. But I admit it also helps dissipate my own personal responsibility and blame. Any time I critique or condemn something, I'm also critiquing myself. If I ever sound self-righteous or arrogant here, I sincerely apologize. I am aware that I criticize Christianity and the church quite often, but that just happens to be a main thrust of the theology in graphic literature.
I am as guilty as anyone else. Probably more so. The first thing to know about Christians is that we are all hypocrites. We condemn the very things we are guilty of perpetrating. It's a vicious quandary. But, hey, at least I admit it.
Anyway, if I am irredeemable in they eyes of other humans, think how much more sorrowful my state is in the eyes of God. I have failed and disobeyed him beyond measure. Really, I never had a chance. "For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). In the eyes of God, I am most definitely irredeemable.
But wait! Here's where it gets rather trippy. A lot of Wednesday Theology laments the problem of suffering and questions why a good God allows bad things to happen to us. From a grand perspective, what motivation would he have to stop such bad things? Considering how much we disobey and reject him, why would he allow any good things to happen to us? We are all irredeemable. And yet, for some bewildering reason, he loves us enough to offer redemption at a great personal cost to himself.
For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. - John 3:16 [NRSV]I have heard many speakers insist that Christianity makes perfect sense. It doesn't. The main belief, the main premise of the entire faith, is absurdly implausible. How does it make sense that a Deity would love the rebellious denizens of the world so much that he would come down to earth and personally sacrifice himself in order to redeem them? A love such as that defies all reason. And I suppose only a love such as that could redeem the irredeemable.
I am irredeemable.
Yet I am redeemed.
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