Good News for People Who Prefer Bad News

The word gospel means "good news." Not good advice. Not good suggestions. Not a good moral framework or a helpful set of principles for living your best life. News. An announcement of something that has happened, is happening, will happen—whether you're paying attention or not.

This is the first thing most people get wrong about Christianity. They think it's a system of ethics, a philosophy of life, a path to enlightenment. It's not. It's a report. It says: something decisive has occurred in history, and everything else must now be understood in light of it.

News vs. Advice

The difference matters. Advice depends on you. "Eat better, exercise more, think positive thoughts"—that's advice. It's conditional. If you follow it, things improve. If you don't, they don't. Your outcome is a function of your effort.

News doesn't work that way. News is "The war is over." News is "The tumor is benign." News is "You've been pardoned." News changes the situation, not just your response to it. And the Gospel—the Christian announcement—is news of this kind.

Here's the report: God became human. He lived among us. He was killed. He rose from the dead. Death is defeated. Forgiveness is available. The kingdom of God has broken into history and will one day be consummated.

If that's true, it's the most important thing that's ever happened. If it's not true, Christianity is a waste of time. But notice: your acceptance or rejection of it doesn't change whether it happened. That's the nature of news.

The Scandal of Particularity

The hardest part of the Gospel for modern people isn't the metaphysics—resurrection, incarnation, atonement. The hardest part is the specificity. This person. This place. This time. A Jewish carpenter executed under Pontius Pilate in first-century Palestine.

We'd prefer something more universal. "God is love" feels safe. "Be kind to one another" feels reasonable. But "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory" (John 1:14)—that's a claim you can't dilute. Either it happened or it didn't.

The Incarnation is scandalous because it ties ultimate reality to a moment in time. God didn't give us principles; he gave us a person. Not a system but a story. Not "here's how to live" but "here's what happened, and here's what it means."

Why This Offends Us

We live in a therapeutic age. We're trained to think that spiritual truth is about inner transformation, personal growth, finding your authentic self. And Christianity offers some of that, yes. But it starts somewhere else.

It starts outside of you. It starts with an event you didn't cause, can't control, and don't deserve. "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). You don't earn this. You don't achieve it. You receive it, or you don't.

This is offensive to the modern mind because it removes you from the center. You're not the hero of this story. You're the rescued. You're the debtor who can't pay. You're the defendant who has no defense. And then—plot twist—you're declared innocent anyway.

Grace as Good News

The technical term is grace. Unmerited favor. A gift you didn't earn and can't repay. And here's the thing about grace: it only makes sense if you need it. If you think you're fundamentally okay, that you just need to try a little harder, be a little better, think a little more positively—grace sounds like cheating.

But if you've ever stood at the edge of your own moral capacity and realized it's not enough—if you've ever looked honestly at your failures and thought, "I can't fix this"—then grace stops being an abstraction and becomes oxygen.

The Gospel says: You're more sinful than you ever dared believe, and more loved than you ever dared hope. Both halves matter. The first half keeps you from self-righteousness. The second keeps you from despair.

The Response to News

So what do you do with news? You don't implement it. You don't practice it. You believe it or you don't. And if you believe it, it changes everything.

If the Gospel is true—if Jesus actually rose from the dead, if God actually became human, if death is actually defeated—then you can stop pretending. You don't have to be the hero of your own story. You don't have to curate a perfect life. You don't have to hide your failures or inflate your successes. You can be known and still be loved.

This is liberation. Not the liberation of "do whatever you want"—that's just slavery to your appetites. But the liberation of "you're already secure." You've been found. You've been claimed. You've been named. And nothing you do can change that.

The Test of Truth

CS Lewis put it this way: Christianity is not a philosophy we sign up for because it sounds nice. It's a historical claim. Either the tomb was empty on Easter morning or it wasn't. Either Jesus appeared to his disciples afterward or he didn't. Either his followers were willing to die for what they claimed to have witnessed, or they weren't.

You can investigate those claims. You can read the texts, study the history, weigh the evidence. And you'll come to one of two conclusions: this is either the most important thing that's ever happened, or it's a delusion on a grand scale. What you can't reasonably do is say, "It's a nice story with good moral teachings." That's patronizing. If it's not true, it's not nice. It's a lie.

Living in Light of the News

Here's what happens if you believe it: you stop trying to save yourself. You stop believing that enough achievement, enough virtue, enough therapy will finally make you whole. You accept that you're broken, that the world is broken, that brokenness can't fix brokenness.

And then you accept the fix that comes from outside. The God who entered the mess. The Love that went to the cross. The Death that died so death could die. The Resurrection that opened a door you couldn't have opened yourself.

And then—only then—you start to live differently. Not because you're trying to earn anything, but because you've been given everything. Not out of fear or obligation, but out of gratitude and love. You become kind, not because kindness is the path to God, but because God has already found you.

That's the Gospel. Good news for people who thought the news was always bad. News of a battle already won. News that your verdict has been read, and it's better than you dared imagine.

It's just news. But if it's true, it's the only news that matters.