Rethinking Original Sin: A Better Story for Humanity

Someone asked me recently: what are the worst theological mistakes that almost everyone has bought into?

Now, that’s a fascinating question. It got me thinking about all the ways the church has sometimes missed the heart of the Jesus story and veered off course. One of the most persistent missteps, I believe, is our long history with the idea of original sin.

The Inheritance of Guilt?

Original sin, as many of us have heard it, teaches that the sin of Adam was passed down to all of humanity. That from our very first breath, we’re already guilty and sinful because of something someone else did a long, long time ago.

This has shaped how we think about God—as a kind of divine legalist, bound by rules He must uphold. And it has shaped how we see ourselves—as fundamentally broken and unworthy. It undermines the beauty of our calling to co-create with God, to heal and steward this world together.

If we believe we’re guilty from the start, our ability to impact the world for good can feel futile. But is that really what the Scriptures teach?

Where Did This Idea Come From?

The doctrine of original sin finds its theological roots in Romans 5:12. Let me read it to you from the NIV:

"Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, in this way death came to all people, because all sinned."

It’s pretty straightforward: Adam sinned, and as a result, death entered the world. We all die. And we all sin. But Paul doesn’t say we’re guilty because of Adam’s sin—only that we, too, sin. He then builds an argument that if one man's failure could have such wide-reaching consequences, then one man's righteousness (Jesus) could offer universal hope.

But here's the twist: this passage was misread by Augustine, one of the most influential thinkers in early Christianity. And unfortunately, he couldn’t read Greek. He was working from a Latin translation that mistranslated one crucial word.

One Word. One Translation. Big Problem.

Where the Greek says, "because all sinned," Augustine's Latin translation read, "in him all sinned."

That tiny change birthed a massive doctrine: the belief that sin is biologically transmitted, passed down through male seed—a kind of spiritual genetic flaw. Augustine's pre-modern understanding of biology only solidified this. But Paul never said Adam's sin is in us. He said we sin because we live in a world already shaped by sin.

Ancestral Sin: A Better Framework

Interestingly, the Eastern Church never adopted Augustine’s original sin idea. Rooted in Greek, they maintained a theology called "ancestral sin."

Here, Adam's sin opens the door for sin to enter the world. It's like a virus infecting our environment, not our DNA. We're born into a world shaped by greed, shame, and selfishness. We imitate what we see. We sin.

Practically, this isn’t far off from what we all experience. We each fall short. But it’s our sin that creates the distance, not Adam's. A baby isn't sinful by default—they are shaped, over time, by the world around them.

Scapegoating and the Real "Original" Sin

This perspective aligns with the work of Rene Girard, a scholar whose ideas on scapegoating have deeply shaped my own theology. He suggested that our true "original sin" is the human impulse to cast our faults onto others—to blame, exclude, even kill in order to unite ourselves as a group.

It’s not Adam’s mistake we inherit, but a culture built on scapegoating. We live in that world. We participate in it. But the sin is ours.

Why This Matters: Misreading the Prophets

If we believe God can’t even look at us until we’re "cleansed" of Adam's sin, we end up twisting the message of Scripture.

Take Habakkuk 1:13: "Your eyes are too pure to look on evil; you cannot tolerate wrongdoing."

Often used to suggest God can’t be near us because of our sin, this verse is actually the prophet accusing God—demanding that He punish wrongdoers. The irony is, the prophet is frustrated because God is looking on sin and not punishing it.

Or consider Isaiah 64:6: "All our righteous acts are like filthy rags."

This isn’t a declaration that we can’t do good. It's a critique of worship unaccompanied by justice. The prophet is calling people to action—to do good better, not to abandon the idea altogether.

A Different Kind of God

When we let go of the legalistic idea that we are born condemned by another's failure, we find a God who sees ourchoices, invites us to name our own mistakes, and gently leads us toward better ones.

A God who doesn’t punish us for someone else’s story, but calls us into our own. One who sees our failure, yes, but also our potential.

Maybe that makes more sense to you.

Maybe this idea of ancestral sin feels closer to your experience.

And maybe, just maybe, it opens up space to see yourself not as a depraved soul in need of rescue from birth, but as a beloved child shaped by a broken world, yet called to help reshape it.

A better theology, a better story—and a better way to be human together.