Transcending the Self Through Conversion: Bernard Lonergan and Sin and Salvation

In teaching theology the problem is where to begin, as both a nonviolent and apocalyptic theology require a reconception of reality inclusive of the entire theological catalogue (from the doctrine of God and Trinity to the doctrine of atonement and revelation). Beyond the practical problem of the classroom, it could be argued conversion marks the lived entry point, but defining conversion poses the same problem, as it is only adequately defined and realized in connection to theology as a whole. Conversion cannot be separated from the reconceptualization of God, self, and the world (the reworking of the moral and religious imagination), so conversion itself must be rightly realized (making every beginning an ongoing task). The entry point into theology through conversion, illustrates the predicament that no singular beginning is adequate, but the beginning and end are necessarily tied together.

Conversion is first of all conversion from something; it is dynamic in its movement (from one thing to something else). Conversion describes a turn; the turn from out of a self-enclosed world in which stasis and permanence are experienced as synonymous with the self. To convert means, at the most basic level, an abandonment of the human project conceived at an infantile, and narcissistic stage. The construct of the ego, the experience of the superego (the law), the drive for being, all speak of basic and immediate experience and it is this most immediate reality that is rendered false in conversion.

The theological problem is, there is a fortress of religion protecting and substantiating this false experience. Conceptions of God as law-giver and punisher, conceptions of humanity as continually given over to guilt and struggle, are supported by economies of salvation in penal substitution and divine satisfaction which reduplicate the human disease as an economy of salvation. Whether or not the sickness is the root of this theology, nonetheless the entire theological catalog poses a potential obstacle to the cure (attached to conversion). Bad theology and failed Christianity, more than simple atheism or paganism, pose an obstacle to a nonviolent, apocalyptic, transformative faith. This is the case, as human notions of righteousness replaces divine rightness (in absolutizing the law), masochistic self-punishment is given divine status (in notions of conscience and guilt), the human word (in a depth psychology) is reified and deified (in doctrines of the logos), love and forgiveness are confused with anger satisfied, and this shows forth in contractual theology and in various theological dualisms (in the Trinity, between heaven and earth, between nature and grace, etc.). So religious conversion must include, not simply conversion from one religion to another, but conversion from particular religious sensibilities and this entails conversion from inadequate conceptions of self and the world (which may sound like a restatement of the problem).

Bernard Lonergan describes conversion as an ongoing, lifelong process, or an unending dynamism.[1] There is no clear place to start, other than the place we each individually begin, so perhaps every conversion is adequate to the task of the continuing journey, with the caveat that conversion pertains to everything and intersects with everything. The problem then is perhaps not with where to begin but with the danger of ceasing to begin in a stunted conversion. Everything must be incorporated into this beginning, but this beginning cannot cease. Conversion must continue, and all things must be reconceptualized and reworked in light of the person and work of Christ. Conversion is a life-long turning, which may be stunted by pietistic notions focused on guilt and repentance, or any notion that sees conversion as a one-off experience in the past.

Conversion and repentance must be expanded and reconceived (Lonergan again), and Lonergan recognizes that there is a reciprocal process between conversion, self-transcendence, and authenticity. In the description of Robert Doran, “Authenticity is achieved in self-transcendence, and consistent self-transcendence is reached only by conversion.”[2] Doran goes on to describe the ever-spiraling relationship between these three poles: “what makes a person an authentic human being is that he or she is consistently self-transcending, and consistent self-transcendence requires that one undergo a multiple and ongoing process of conversion. The process moves causally, if you wish, from conversion to self-transcendence, and from self-transcendence to authenticity.”[3] To be an authentic self, there has to be movement beyond the strictures of infantile egotism, which may be necessary to survival and the developing sense of self, but taken as an end this egotism is a lie. The passage is from out of “self-absorption or self-enclosure to self-transcendence,” which may occur apart from awareness of the details of its happening, but entails moving beyond the “self-referential” or loveless horizon to the realm of love.

This conversion is religious, moral, intellectual, and (Doran adds) psychic; in other words, it pertains to everything about the self. It is notable that the intellectual is last in this sequence, coming at the end of one’s life course.[4] Self-transcendence is religious conversion, as one awakens to the divine realm and to the realm of love; it is moral, not in the sense of moral perfection, but in taking account of others in one’s decisions; it is intellectual in that certain questions are raised and there is pursuit of intellectual truth and integrity in understanding and judgment; and it is psychic in that the above connections are linked to “affective and imaginal components” such that empirical consciousness synthesizes the religious, moral, and intellectual into experience.[5] This synthesis of love gets at the ever renewed dynamism in conversion.

It is easy enough for the immature to live and experience the religious, moral, and intellectual, as separate realms, none of which necessarily impinge upon shaping emotions and imagination. The content of morality, intellect, and religion, often pertain almost completely to the self.

Morality may be nothing more than loveless self-interest, and moral decisions may be nothing more than utilitarian (which describes entire moral systems). “My delight in eating is for the sake of me. My studies are for the sake of me. My good works are for the sake of merit, and merit is for the sake of rewards, and rewards are for the sake of me. If it is for the sake of me, there is no need to inquire further. I have a sufficient and efficacious motive for acting.”[6] The immediate experience of desire is the driving force in this morality, and there is no questioning of the end of moral pursuit, and there is no doubting the self which it serves. The fact that this experience and conception of self is false (dead, in Christ’s description) is not up for consideration. This self may be the Girardian self, guided by imitation of the group, it may be the ethnocentric self in which one’s group is an extension of the self, or it may be one’s tribe, family, or religious cohort. That is the self-enclosure may be constricted or more expansive, but it is self-enclosure nonetheless. “Greed is good,” “knowledge is power,” “self-interest is corporate interest,” are all ways of maintaining self-enclosure on a more expansive scale. But so too I would argue, is a contractual religion focused on “my” moral transgression, “my” forgiveness, “my” going to heaven, etc.

As long as one is egotistically self-enclosed, intellect is also self-absorbed and stunted. The intellectual world of the egotist, is the world that refers to the self so that desire, drive, self-interest, commonsense, and the God that supports this world are left undisturbed. Intellectual conversion may be the most difficult to measure, but it would seem its cosmic scope, as opposed to micro-scope, focused on the individual, is its measure. The theological equivalent of the Copernican revolution is a Christocentric revolution, in which not only this world but eternity revolves around this person. The New Testament, the work of Origen, the Cappadocian Fathers, the work of Maximus, and Sergius Bulgakov, point to this all-embracing possibility, in which the intellect along with morality is opened to deification.

Psychic conversion may occur in small increments and the overall effect/affect may be slow in coming, yet all of the other elements of conversion depend upon this psychic aspect. It is psychic conversion that establishes connection between the other elements of conversion. “And the reason for establishing or re-establishing that connection, in terms of authenticity, is that affective self-transcendence is frequently required if we are going to be self-transcendent in the intellectual, moral, and religious dimensions of our living.”[7] Conversion begins to bear fruit in our emotions and imagination, so that peace and love pervade all things. As we experience this psychic reality along with the reconceptualization of all things, the experience brings forth renewed understanding. The mind is transformed and with it all things are understood from a new perspective or horizon.

The summation of this conversion is love: religious conversion is lit up by love through faith. God realized as love is a rescue from the lovelessness of the self enclosed in the world conceived from a loveless horizon. Whoever abides in love abides in God and this love pervades the intellect, the morals, and the human psyche, in a dynamism of participation. Love is participation in God, synonymous with participation in a community of love. This community of participation, of course, poses its own hazards; just as there is a loveless theology, there are loveless communities brought together by fear and coercion. As Doran warns, “profound religious inauthenticity can also be mediated by participation in a religious community.”[8] So while being part of a community is no guarantee, it may be that small communities of friends formed out of the spontaneity of love, best serve purposes of self-transcendent love. The unconditional love of God received, and the response of loving unconditionally, realized in community, is the ever-renewed end of conversion.

The unconditional love through which one transcends the self, entails then, a shift in faith (religious conversion) and this comes with a shift in values (moral conversion from primarily valuing the self), and an opening up of the intellect to the cosmic and eternal, and all of this arises in an ongoing psychic conversion of all-embracing, unconditional love and peace. This is where one begins and ends the theological project.

(Sign up for the upcoming class, “Lonergan & the Problem of Theological Method.” The course will run from the weeks of February 16th to April 11th.  Also sign up for Sin and Salvation: An in-depth study of the meaning of sin and a description of the atonement as a defeat of sin and the basis of an alternative community in Christ. This course will run through the beginning of February to the end of March. Register here https://pbi.forgingploughshares.org/offerings)


[1] It is appropriate that for the first time Ploughshares Bible Institute is holding two classes simultaneously, Sin and Salvation and Lonergan and the Problem of Theological Method.

[2] Robert Doran, “What Does Bernard Lonergan Mean by ‘Conversion’?” (2011) accessed on 1/22/2025 at https://lonerganresource.com/media/pdf/lectures/What%20Does%20Bernard%20Lonergan%20Mean%20by%20Conversion.pdf p. 2.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid, 4.

[5] Ibid, 5.

[6] Ibid, 14.

[7] Ibid, 6.

[8] Ibid, 7.

Beyond Justification: Revelation, Love, and Salvation

Guest Blog by Jonathan DePue

I recently had the privilege of being interviewed by Paul Axton on his Forging Ploughshares Podcast about my forthcoming book, co-authored with Douglas Campbell, Beyond Justification: Liberating Paul’s Gospel (March 2024). Paul and I decided that it might be helpful for folks, or at least peak people’s interest in the book, if I wrote a summary of the book as a companion to the podcast episode–explaining some of the key moves that Douglas and I made throughout. 

But instead of simply jumping right in, I wanted to take some time to explain the rationale of the book more generally. I have been working with Douglas for just over a decade, having first met him when I matriculated at Duke Divinity School in 2013. And prior to that I was fortunate enough to have begun studying Paul and learning Koine Greek during undergrad from 2009 to 2013. There I was introduced to some of the best Pauline scholarship that rejected what I knew then as the “Lutheran” reading of Paul (a term coined by the famous Lutheran scholar and minister Krister Stendahl). I could sense that this dominant, so-called “Lutheran” reading was destructive (especially towards Jews), highly individualistic, and depicted a God that clashed fundamentally with the God of cosmic reconciliation revealed in Jesus Christ–a God who was irrevocably committed to his people, Israel. But I found the alternatives, especially from certain advocates of the New Perspective on Paul and of the Sonderweg (“two-ways of salvation”) approach, to be less than compelling.
 
Then, for the first time in 2013, I read The Deliverance of God: An Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul (henceforth DoG). Everything started clicking into place.

I began to understand that the conventional construal of Paul that I knew as “Lutheran” had problems that were deeper, broader, and harder than most scholars had grasped. Douglas demonstrated that the issue was not just a bad reading that could be attributed to Luther or to the Reformation per se; it was that there was a whole prior construct at work informing the interpretation of Paul’s words, sentences, paragraphs, and key theological claims. Douglas dubbed this “justification theory” (henceforth JT). JT isn’t so much a reading that can be lifted directly out of the text (this in itself is an impossibility) but functions much like what Hans-Georg Gadamer called a Vorverständnisse or a “pre-understanding” which combines received expectations concerning what certain words and phrases mean in just under 10 percent of Paul’s texts. This prior construct then informs and controls how one interprets Paul’s justification data, and goes on to capture what Paul wrote everywhere else. It is, like theologian Willie James Jennings has put things, a “Christian imagination.” JT is just in the water. 

What, then, are we to do with the fact that Paul has been colonized by a harsh, retributive, and contractual prior construct–namely, JT–that prioritizes a particular reading of a minority data set and exerts influence out of all proportion onto the rest of what Paul wrote?

DoG offered what I think is the only successful solution to this problem if we want Paul to be a coherent thinker (and I think we should). With extraordinary historical-critical insight, linguistic mastery, philosophical rigor, and theological depth DoG was a force that Pauline scholars could not ignore—although they tended to misunderstand and misrepresent its arguments (see, well, pretty much all of the reviews of DoG that dropped shortly after its publication). To be fair, it was a difficult book that surpassed 1,000 pages in length and was perhaps rhetorically structured in such a way that immediately turned off those who committed to JT (whether they called it that or not) as if it were a theological golden calf. 

In 2018, nearly a decade after DoG’s publication, I felt it was well past time to repackage the arguments of the book by prefacing and then explaining them in a way that was a bit more rhetorically sensitive and accessible–not just for scholars of Paul, but for students, pastors, and lay people. These realizations coupled with my intense desire to share the decades of research that Douglas had done with as many people as I could was really the impetus for our book, Beyond Justification. And thankfully, I was able to persuade Douglas to co-author it with me. 

The book itself has taken on many iterations over the years, but Douglas and I eventually settled on a structure, argumentative flow, and tone that we believe will help readers grasp what Douglas has been trying to say about Paul and the gospel for years. 

Chapter one, “God’s truth,” kicks off the book with the correct theological starting point–the epistemological question concerning how we know the truth about God. We know God by attending to where he has chosen to reveal himself, namely, in and through his Son, Jesus Christ, and by the Spirit. And Paul himself attests to this starting point centered on Jesus quite clearly. Paul’s experience with the risen Lord was quite dramatic and unique, so many other people in his churches probably did not experience revelation in the same way. And Paul knows this. His converts are able to be drawn into the dynamic of revelation as the divine Spirit of Christ searches the depths of God and further reveals the truth about God to them. And we too, wherever we are, are encountered by God’s revelation in Jesus Christ in just the same way–a truth mediated to us by Christ’s Spirit. We don’t find it; it comes to find us. The key thing is that the same process of revelation arrives under the control of the sovereign, self-revealing Lord of the universe and extends from Paul’s own experience, to his churches, and to us thousands of years later.

In God’s self-revelation, we now learn critical things about who this God is. In chapter two, “God’s Love,” we argue that Paul attests to a God of three persons; God is actually constituted by these persons–a divine family of relationships. And not just any sort of relationships but ones of love. God, therefore, is love. And we see this love most clearly in the event of God sending his beloved Son to die for a hostile humanity before they do anything in response. God’s love therefore must be unconditional, and he has always been this way even from before the foundation of the world. Indeed it is this loving divine communion that explains the creation of the cosmos. God elected to create a people to share in this divine communion, and he did this all out of his deep love for us. This is guaranteed by the free activity of God’s Spirit who draws humanity into fellowship with God in Christ forever. We are effectively adopted into God’s loving family to be holy, happy, and blameless–despite whatever tries to knock this divine plan off track. God will always rescue his creation because this is the sort of God revealed in Christ. This is the divine secret (Gk mystērion) that lay at the heart of the cosmos–a loving family that never lets go or gives up on its children.

So if this is what God is really like, how does God respond to attempts to interfere with God’s loving purposes for the cosmos in order to reestablish his divine plan? This is what we address in chapter three, “God’s salvation.” In the light of who God is, we need to know exactly what is messing things up. Paul says quite explicitly that the cosmos is enslaved to the powers of Sin, Death, and the Flesh–along with associated evil powers roaming about. Creation is in bondage with no way to set itself free. We are utterly incapacitated. God’s solution to this dismal plight can be summarized as a two-part story of descent and ascent.

First, God the Father sends his Son to enter into this enslaved cosmos and take on human flesh. Christ assumes all that is harming, damaging, and incarcerating us; he bears all of this as he journeys faithfully to the cross. He is executed, and Sin, Death, and the Flesh are terminated in his execution. Second, Christ is of course raised from the dead and enthroned on high where he is acclaimed as Lord in a transformed body not of flesh but of pneuma (spirit). Through Christ’s Spirit, we are grafted on to this journey of descent and ascent as we enter into the extinction of our current sinful condition. Christ died therefore we all have died. And in Christ, we are raised with him beyond this enslaved state and are set free to respond to God with a full and joyful obedience. Christ’s resurrection is our resurrection. We live out of this resurrected location now and await our final resurrection when we too will be given new spiritual bodies like Jesus. We are saved, then, as we participate in Christ’s faithful life, death, and resurrection. Indeed God’s plan for the cosmos is brought back on track through Jesus and the Spirit. This is Paul’s gospel–his Good News (Gk euangelion).

In part two of this blog post, I will continue summarizing the chapters of Beyond Justification, beginning with a certain construal of Paul, namely, JT, that appears to be doing something very different from the gospel that we have presented thus far.