Does God want to change your personality?

personalityI’ve talked with several people who were turned off to Christianity because Christians seem fake to them. In the cases I’m considering, they think our faith tells them to change their personality. To them, there’s a particular personality type that Christianity prescribes, and they don’t think it fits them.

What most of these people seem to be looking at is a “shiny happy people” sort of Christianity. They see a classic Christian personality type—the meek and mild lover of puppies and rainbows who’s just outgoing enough to welcome new visitors at church services—and it seems fake to them, inauthentic about life with an insincere smile as cover.

Maybe you’ve seen a different sort of personality type expectation. Perhaps the gregarious, fun-loving, charismatic type. Or the introspective, solemn type who spends most of her time fasting, praying, or reading Scripture.

Other people––those who have struggled with issues like clinical depression or anxiety or eating disorders––have been told that there’s no place for those things in the life of a Christian. Christians have too much cause for joy to be depressed, too much hope to be anxious, too much self-control and self-esteem to be bulimic. They must not have real faith if they’re still dealing with these issues. Whatever part of their personality is causing these issues needs to change.

As a pastor, I’ve seen “personality” misused a lot––as the cause for conflicts, the reason to deny people certain roles, even the reason to tell some people they’re not suited for ordination. In most of these situations, attributing things to personality isn’t helpful. Sometimes it’s too broad; other times it’s the wrong category entirely.

Does God want to change your personality? Yes… and no.

What constitutes your personality?

I’m going to define personality here with three components.[1. The field of personality theory has seen plenty of research. I’m trying to offer a simple structure here to examine the issues I’m seeing most often. If you’ve studied a lot of psychology or psychiatry, I’d welcome your input.]

Personality = Disposition + Character + Mental health

Each of these components plays an important role, but the roles they play are different. In the times when we’ve done the most damage to ourselves and others, we’ve misunderstood these components or failed to differentiate between them.

Over the next few posts, I’m going to define what I mean by disposition, character, and mental health, suggest how we should understand each of them in light of our faith, and show the problems we cause when we misunderstand their roles.

Your Disposition

In the beginning, God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them. No doubt, the effects of sin have seriously distorted that image of God. We’ll get more into that in the next two posts. But even after sin entered the world, God tells Noah that mankind has been made in the image of God (Genesis 9:6). Sin has distorted, not erased, the image of God in us.

At its root, your personality includes several inherent, God-given qualities—qualities that reflect the image of God in you. This is what I’m referring to as your disposition.

Maybe you’re naturally wired to take care of people or serve as the loyal guardian of an institution. You’re dependable, dutiful, and hard-working.

Or maybe you’re a natural creative type—spontaneous and inventive. You get restless when tasks are mundane and when life gets too routine.

Perhaps you’re more of a thinker—an analyst and planner whose head is often in the clouds.

Or you’re best described as an idealist. You’re naturally enthusiastic. You long for meaningful, authentic relationships.[2. These are broad descriptions of the four temperaments defined by David Keirsey. I’ve found them generally helpful. See more at http://www.keirsey.com/]

At least one of these probably sounds like you. A lot of us would aspire to be defined by all of these descriptions, but it’s doubtful that all four fit any of us equally. Of course, there’s much more to say about your disposition. These are just some generalizations.

The point: you have a natural disposition of some sort. Your environment has shaped that some, but there’s a lot that was inborn. Spend some time watching a room full of toddlers—even siblings who have grown up in the same home environment—and you’ll see a wealth of different dispositions already on display.

In this model, what I’m calling your disposition serves as the foundation of your personality. Those other two components—character and mental health—serve to amplify or distort. But regardless of good character or bad, mental health or mental disorder, you still have that same underlying disposition.

How to understand dispositions and our faith

Does God want to change your disposition? No![3. To qualify this just a bit: God can change your disposition. And perhaps this has even happened in the past. But I think it’s the rare exception to the rule.]

If dispositions reflect God-given qualities, then we embrace and celebrate them in all their diverse forms.

I love the way Paul uses the human body as a metaphor for the church in Scripture. Is the whole body an ear? Or an eye? Or a hand? Of course not! None of us can represent the whole. We’re each only a part, and those parts look different.

We see this even in creation. God creates mankind in his image, not an individual. “In the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (Genesis 1:27). From the beginning, we see that none of us alone can fully reflect the image of God. We make a mistake when we try to squeeze everyone into our same mold of “Christian disposition.” In the process, we tell them that some of those God-given personality traits need to change.

Consider the apostle Paul. He was bold and assertive, feisty and determined. Some people might have described him as headstrong. Meek and mild aren’t the first words we think of with Paul. And he appears to have been wired this way before his conversion, too. Paul’s conversion didn’t change his disposition; it changed his allegiance and his character.

Problems when we misunderstand disposition

We must understand that disposition and character are different. With his bold and assertive disposition, I can imagine Paul was called arrogant a time or two. But you can be naturally assertive without being arrogant.

Other dispositions have had similar problems. The quiet thinker can be deemed standoffish and unkind, the gregarious socialite deemed frivolous and superficial.

Sadly, our world is often quick to look at people’s dispositions and pass character judgments. This is sometimes caused by jealousy, other times by ignorance. Regardless, Christians should strive to do better. We should embrace each quirky disposition as it is, celebrate their differences, and be slow to attribute character flaws to people who may just have different dispositions.

We also should be careful with ourselves––careful not to use our dispositions to excuse things that need to change. Just as the assertive person can be falsely accused of arrogance, the arrogant person can excuse himself too easily by saying it’s just disposition. I’ve heard anger excused this way often: “I just have a short fuse. I was born that way.”

We should recognize, too, that our different dispositions may lend themselves to certain character issues, even perhaps certain mental health problems. More on these in upcoming posts.

For now, take this with you: God doesn’t want to change your disposition. He created you with it, and he loves it. If we’ll allow it, some of the beauty of God’s people––the body of Christ––is all of the great diversity found within.

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Next: Can a good Christian be depressed? [Does God want to change your personality? pt. II]

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A third way in the church’s ethics debates

Our world seems to have lost the ability to understand nuance. Rather than finding a balance between two important points, we tend to pick one side and try to pummel the other into submission. Watch the debates about any political issue, and you’ll quickly see how much both sides ignore each other while they talk shout past each other.

Sadly, we see much of the same in the church today. The same issues keep coming up, and the same points keep getting made, but all to little effect. I’d like to suggest that we can divide the church in most of today’s ethical debates with one simple line. I’ll call it the grace-and-truth line.

The Grace-and-Truth Line

Our grace-and-truth line is causing all sorts of silly fractures in the church. One side talks a lot about living like Jesus, the other talks a lot about believing the Bible. One side focuses on God’s love, the other on God’s holiness and justice.

Grace people fear legalists and Pharisees who force people to live by their own artificial rules. Truth people fear universalists and antinomians who disregard God’s moral law.

In ethics debates, the grace people usually are optimistic about humanity. They receive everyone as good people, acceptable as they are––everyone except, perhaps, the truth people. The truth people usually are pessimistic about humanity. They generally seem to view everyone as sinners in need of reform––everyone except, perhaps, themselves.*

You may find my black-and-white depictions unfair—guilty of the very thing I’ve said is our problem. Many people operate somewhere toward the center of these. Actually, we all suppose that we are right at the center of any tension like this, striking the perfect balance. But even for those who aren’t fully black or white in the balance, it’s worth asking ourselves if we’re over-representing one side and neglecting the other.

How Tony Campolo tries to navigate grace and truth

Tony Campolo tells a moving and heart-breaking story about his conversation with a mother whose gay son committed suicide. He makes a strong point. The phrase “hate the sin, love the sinner” has been abused to condemn people’s actions from a distance. But while it’s easy to lob stones at sin from afar, it’s difficult to love people from that distance. As a result, many Christians’ hatred of sin has prevented them from coming near enough to “love the sinner.” Remove that, and the phrase simply becomes “hate the sin.” In fact, it begins to appear like, “hate the sin, hate the sinner.” All truth, no grace.

Campolo says that we should love the sinner and hate our own sin. Whenever we have gotten rid of the sin in our own life, then we can begin talking about the sin in our brother’s or sister’s life. Though he doesn’t say it, I get the impression that Campolo really means to say that we’ll always have our own sin to deal with first, so we should never talk about someone else’s.

Campolo’s motto is about grace for others, truth for ourselves. That’s not a bad corrective for those of us who are quick to give ourselves grace (every mistake has a good excuse) and to apply truth to others (they’ve got to do better).

Is Campolo’s solution sufficient? I don’t believe so. In fact, I think “Love the sinner; hate your own sin” is no better than the original, nor is it more biblical. In some ways, it’s less. Let’s look at another option.

Maybe the problem is that we believe one line divides grace and truth. What if, instead, we could be full of both?
Maybe the problem is that we believe one line divides grace and truth. What if, instead, we could be full of both?

Full of grace and truth

John’s gospel introduces Jesus by saying that he came to the world “full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Jesus offers grace to a woman whom the people are ready to condemn: “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Then he offers truth to her as a woman who needs to repent: “Go now and leave your life of sin” (John 8:2-11).

Jesus acquits the woman from the people’s condemnation, then condemns her actions and tells her to change. Could he have neglected either and been more loving? Or do we find his perfect love only at the intersection of full grace and full truth?

The problem with the truth-teller isn’t that he chastises people about their sin, but that he often doesn’t love those he chastises. His offer of grace is insincere, or lacking entirely. He suggests that he might give grace and hospitality once a person will accept the truth, but surely not before.

The problem with the grace-bearer is that, wishing to defend the sacred worth of the person, she’ll often defend his indefensible actions, as well.* Endorsing another person’s wickedness and self-destruction is surely one of the most hateful things humanity has ever tried to pass off as love.

On loving people and hating sin 

No, Jesus never said, “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” But he did say, “there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:10). And James wrote, “Whoever turns a sinner from the error of their way will save them from death and cover over a multitude of sins” (James 5:20).

I’d like to ask Tony Campolo how he expects us to ever turn a sinner from the error of his way if we’re never supposed to bring it up. I’d like to ask him why I shouldn’t hate anything that’s leading someone toward death.

A beloved friend of mine has cancer. I hate that cancer. I hate all cancer from a distance, but I particularly hate his cancer, because it’s trying to kill him. If I hated no one’s cancer but my own, what a selfish person I would be!

Even more, then, I hate sin. I hate all sin from a distance, but I particularly hate the sin of those I love, because it’s trying to kill them. I hate my own sin for the same reason. If we don’t hate our own sin, we’re fools, running toward destruction, even while we claim to be warning others away from it. But hating my own sin doesn’t prevent me from hating others’ sin as well.

The problem isn’t hatred of sin. The problem comes when our hatred of sin leads us to scorn sinners instead of embracing them. When we lack the grace to grieve for sinners, take compassion on them, and pray for them, we lack the love of Jesus.

Similarly, the problem with the other side isn’t love for sinners. The problem comes with our acceptance of their sinfulness. When we deny sinners the truth about their actions––that they need to seek treatment and healing––we lack the love of Jesus.

Can sinners who need to repent still be of sacred worth?

The problem for all of us is that we believe it’s impossible to tell someone she is of sacred worth and that her actions are sinful and require repentance. Over and over, I’ve watched Christian leaders claim that these two statements contradict each other, or at least create an ambiguity. We must choose––deny the sin or deny the sinner.

The miracle of God’s love is that he makes both claims at once. In our sinfulness––not after––we are of sacred worth. At the same time, God calls us out of our sinfulness into a repentant and righteous life before God. By his grace, he empowers us to repent and live holy lives.

Full of grace. Full of truth. Compromise on neither.

Is “full of grace and truth” our best way to approach ethics? Share your own thoughts in the comments or hit a share button below to ask for others’ opinions.

* In all my references to optimist and pessimist, I’m heavily indebted to G. K. Chesterton, whose language I’m barely modifying from pages 61-62 of Orthodoxy.

Review and Resolve

I know a lot of people who are against New Year’s resolutions. “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing immediately. No need to wait for a new year.”

But you probably don’t take a large-scale evaluation of your life on a daily basis. You don’t stop every day and think through the past year of your life. You’d be neurotic if you did. But there would also be a problem if you never stopped and reviewed your life on a bigger scale.

New Year’s is nice because it provides a natural prompt to do that. You’re more likely today to think about the past year of your life. What you regret, what you celebrate, what you’ll remember. And after that, you’re also more likely to think about how you want to do anything differently in 2014.

So if you haven’t already, why don’t you quickly take stock of the past year. What did you learn? What will you remember? What do you wish you had done better or differently?

And why don’t you also make some resolutions for yourself in 2014. If you don’t want to tell anyone you made a resolution, fine… but resolve to do something. Some of the themes that have come most consistently for me throughout 2013: show more gratitude, read lots of books, wake up early and get your best work done before noon, commit to small, daily practices that will make their effect over the long-term. All of those would need more specificity — how will you do it, exactly — but they’re all worthy goals for a new year.