Why Some People Think Being Sick is Equal to Being Sinful and Unworthy

I’ve seen a lot of tweets in the last two or three days from people who simply explain the coldheartedness of the politicians—all, at this point, Republicans—who are working to rescind the Affordable Care Act as “part of their theology” because “sick people are sinners”; those who comment might also mention Calvinism and someone will tack on a counterargument from John 9 or mention that this particular theology comes from Deuteronomy and the school of scribes that penned it. True, as far as it goes, but this operative theology has deep roots in American culture that we ignore at our peril. To get ourselves out of danger, we need to expose the roots and eliminate them…or at the very least, get rid of enough of them that those roots stop choking us. (This is nowhere near as mythical as kudzu’s invasiveness!) 

Let’s start with Deuteronomy and the books from the same theological tradition: Joshua, Judges, 1 and 2 Samuel, 1 and 2 Kings, Jeremiah, and Lamentations. This is the strain of early Judaism that relied on “blessings and curses” to determine the status of one’s (and the nation’s) relationship with God. If you’re right with God—obedient, observant, humble, etc.—then you will be blessed. If you’re not right with God, you’ve got trouble with a capital “T”: sickness, bad crops, marital problems, children with congenital birth issues, poverty, destruction of property, the gamut. It would be easy in this theology to see who is in God’s favor and who is not, and thus who deserves more blessings and who deserves no blessings. The prophets called the people to take care of widows and orphans, who by circumstance were unfortunate souls; even so, this theology contains a warning to those who would worship false gods in Deuteronomy 5:9-10. “⁹You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents, to the third and fourth generation of those who reject me, ¹⁰but showing steadfast love to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments.”

Fast forward to the Protestant Reformation. Martin Luther proposed salvation by faith alone (“sola fides”) to counter the idea that one could buy one’s way to heaven. Two hundred years later, John Wesley took this idea a step further to say that the knowledge of one’s salvation by faith inspires one to “do good: as we have time, and opportunity, to do good in every possible kind, and in every possible degree to all…” In no way do Luther and Wesley see salvation as dependent on good works; rather, good works can be a thankful response to salvation. This is the underlying theology of Lutheran and Wesleyan traditions today, even if some pastors in those traditions have forgotten it. John Calvin, on the other hand, thought that the list of those who are saved was determined from the beginning of time (predestination), that the Elect would be known by their upright demeanor and prosperous, efficient lives, and that one could lose one’s predestined place in heaven by not living up to those criteria. This is not dissimilar from the “blessings and curses” theology of Deuteronomy. What is different, however, is the way this theology has been interpreted and enacted in America.

American colonists mastered the “Protestant work ethic” early on in the history of the colonies, especially in Pilgrim/Puritan New England. In essence—I am simplifying tremendously here for brevity—it was better to be upright, prosperous, and efficient on the chance that one was among the Elect than to lose one’s place in heaven by not looking the part. Anyone who did not look or act the part was considered undeserving; consider Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter to be a prime if exaggerated example. Unlike invasive kudzu, which is not eating the South at the rate of 411 acres a day, this Calvinism permeates the American landscape four centuries later. When Joe Walsh (R-Ill) responded to Jimmy Kimmel’s heartfelt thank you to the surgical/medical staff who saved his newborn son and subsequent reminder that no parent should ever have to worry about access to or the cost of such assistance, it was blatantly based in this twisted belief system: “Sorry Jimmy Kimmel: your sad story doesn't obligate me or anybody else to pay for somebody else's health care.” Translation: you are successful and thus blessed with the means to save the life of your child, but it’s not MY responsibility to help anyone who isn’t successful and thus blessed save the life of his or her child. Anytime a pundit or politician says that benefits should be cut for the poorest among us, the judgment is implicit: you don’t deserve our help because you are not worthy of blessing. 

I have to think that John Calvin is rolling in his grave at the way his theology has been misinterpreted and used as a cudgel. I’m not a fan of his beliefs (you can take the woman out of Wesleyanism but you can’t take the Wesleyanism out of the woman!), but the uniquely American imposition of the notion of election is a disservice to Calvin and those who worked after him in the Reformed tradition. When you hear people speaking this way, remember two things: the backfire effect is real, so contradicting them won’t change them right away, if at all; and please love them anyway. Their poor theology/ideology doesn’t make them any less deserving of love than the people who agree with you. (See what I did there?) 

If hearing people speak this way about any particular issue motivates you to become an activist, there are any number of ways you can be heard in places that count, starting with your local and state governments. Do you know how to contact your US House member and your senators? Write a letter to the editor, go to a march, attend lectures to become more knowledgable. Don’t let their ideology deter you from doing all the good you can, whether you believe you’re saved by Jesus Christ or a devout atheist. Too many people are in need of our help!