If there is a universally shared experience, it’s failure. We fall, miss, botch—there are many ways to describe our imperfections. We have different ways of accounting for our failure, too: we blame society, brain chemistry, diet, circumstances, Adam & Eve; opinions vary as to the effects of both nature and nurture. We even make a living from it. Lawyers, comedians, tradespeople—such folk count on human failure.

In the Christian community, failure gets scrutinized. Courses, lectures, books, and seminars examine it from every angle. Preachers sink their teeth into the topic routinely. Groups small and large make sure their lists regarding failure are well-known, and others, scanning those lists, wonder why they are so short, or so long.

Anecdotal evidence of this interest is ample. Testimonies highlight low-lifes, songs reference short-comings, and the curricula for teens and young adults are weighted heavily in this direction. Ask people in the pew to describe themselves in religiously acceptable ways, and more than a few will offer some version of “I’m a sinner.” They might tack on “saved by grace”, but that phrase is not often the starting point. More? Look in the parking lot on Sunday for theology boiled down: I’m not perfect, just forgiven is likely to be fixed to more than one car.

We fail. We sin. No argument there, so much as questions: Is this a good way of telling our story? Is this how we will—how we must—define ourselves?

I’m thinking glory may help with crafting the tale of God’s dealing with humanity in a way that doesn’t focus so much on sin as it does on transformation. This approach looks at how those rescued by Jesus and brought into His kingdom are occupied by Spirit; it notices that Spirit is accompanied by glory which fills those made with a capacity for it.

People carry this treasure in “jars of clay” (2 Corinthians 4), and Paul’s vivid metaphor offers a good way of explaining the various limitations they have at present. But the focus is not on these limitations. It is, rather, on the treasure. People, Paul says a bit earlier, are being transformed by the glory Spirit brings. They are changing from glory to glory—that is, the glory inherent as creatures made in God’s image is fanned brighter, filling more and more of the hearts and minds that are turning away from sin and its effects.

Do such people stumble? Yes, because these jars are clay. But emphasizing sin shifts our energy away from how glory is present and expanding. We cannot set failure aside completely, for it is part of who we are. But: we have this glorious opportunity to introduce a new vocabulary, one that puts the restoration God is bringing about front and center.