| Jesus and the End-Time The Ethics of the End-Time Purity |
Besides this you know what your it is, how it is full time now for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed; the night is far-gone, the day is at hand. Let us then cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us conduct ourselves becomingly as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarrelling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires. Romans 13:11-14Any straightforward reading of the New Testament leads to the conclusion that Jesus and the apostles imposed high standards of behavior on those who became Christians. These standards are actually better known to the world than is the grace of God-at least, I my experience is common, and I have reason to believe it is. Long before I knew anything about grace I knew that Christians are supposed to turn the other cheek if slapped, to go two miles when they are compelled to go one, and to love and pray for their enemies. The reaction to these standards, when known apart from grace, leads two ways. A morally energetic person may set himself to follow them and become self-righteous in the attempt. But the other way is, I believe, more common. The ordinary person is frightened by the standards and dismisses them as impossibly idealistic for persons like himself. "I could never do that. I am not good enough to be a Christian. But then I don't believe that anyone else is either; so at least I'm not a hypocrite, pretending to be better than I am." Again, if my experience is any gauge, virtually every parish minister who regularly engages in conversation with the unchurched or with "fringe people" will have heard this speech, or a variation of it, more than once. The notion that Christians are "good people" dies hard-even among Christians. But then there is the error perpetuated by those Christians who have appropriated grace. They understand correctly that they are saved entirely by grace; they can make no contribution whatever to their salvation. Yet their lives do not reflect grace. Although not articulated, the internal argument goes, "I guess I'm supposed to turn the other cheek, but God will forgive me if I don't. When this argument wins, as it often does, standards of behavior go out the window. Not that the argument is wrong: God will forgive. But the argument is irrelevant to Christian behavior. The Christian who relies on forgiveness for his action (or inaction) and who does not positively desire to obey the standards is simply not motivated as a Christian can be. We do not mean, however, that a Christian who seeks to obey the standards because he is afraid not to is acting from a Christian motivation either. We are left, then, with those who seek to obey the standards for positive reasons. Christian behavior (or Christian ethics, if you will) is a wholly positive experience, dependent on a wholly positive motivation. The two questions that arise from Christian behavior are these: Why are the standards so high? How is it possible to live in obedience to them? The "why" question concerns us most because its answer is that Christian ethics are ethics of the end-time. But we must touch upon the "how" question also: Christian ethics are ethics of grace. The early disciples based their behavior on their expectation of the imminent return of Jesus. This is what is meant by ethics of the end-time. The disciples did not make firm commitments to this world because Jesus would come soon and do all that was necessary for their defense and their happiness. What difference would it make then if they had to suffer abuse, even dishonor? "Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven!" (Matthew 5:12). Jesus did not come soon, in the sense of time. Yet the Church was never told to stop expecting him, so the ethics of the end-time were never officially rescinded and replaced by a more cautious and self-protective ethical system (though, in practice, that replacement did occur in a great many Christian lives and institutions). Officially, Christian ethics remain ethics of the end-time; the only way to live with a serious hope of obeying them is with a high degree of expectation in the return of Jesus. Expectation makes a significant difference in behavior. It is easier to clean a house because company is coming than it is to clean it just because it is dirty. (I am talking about ordinary people; if you are morally energetic, skip that example.) It is easier to work at a job when you expect a promotion than when you are "in a rut" with no hope of change. Expectations alter behavior; so why the standards are high-they are for living in a world by a people who belong to a Kingdom not of this world-gives us some clue as to how we can live up to them. In this chapter we will consider three passages from the epistles-two from Paul and one from Peter-that deal with the ethical life. Their characteristic mark is how they relate ethical responsibility to the end-time. We are not pretending to deal with the whole field of ethics, but rather to point the way to a proper response to our study of Jesus and the end-time. The three representative passages deal with purity, faithfulness, and love. In Romans 13:11-14 Paul deals with purity, though he does not use the term. I considered rejecting it myself because of its negative connotations: it calls to mind the pious prig who never risks himself or cares enough about others to expose himself to them and their sins. Purity does not imply abstinence from life. The word has positive connotations, because we see Jesus as pure-Jesus, whose friends were radicals (his apostle Simon the Zealot), crooks (his apostle Matthew, the tax collector), and prostitutes (the woman who anointed his feet). His life shone with a pure brightness that attracted people to him; if this purity offends you, it is because it is such a high calling, not because there is anything unattractive or priggish about it. Before dealing directly with the text we need to understand this purity. It is not ritual or symbolic purity-"I am giving up candy for Lent" purity. Not that there is anything wrong with symbolic purity if it symbolizes actual purity, but there is plenty wrong with it if it is an empty symbol. It was empty symbolism that called down the wrath o Jesus on the Pharisees: Now you Pharisees cleanse the outside of the cup and of the dish, but inside you are full of extortion and wickedness…But give for alms those things which are within, and behold, everything is clean for you. But woe to you Pharisees! For you tithe mint and rue and every herb, and neglect justice and the love of God; these you ought to have done, without neglecting the others (Luke 11:39-42).Practical purity is essential to the ethics of the end-time. This is purity for use. If you have ever been awake in an operating room, you probably developed an appreciation for sterile procedure. The doctors, nurses, and technicians do not go through all that rigmarole because they think it is a pretty ritual; they do it because it is necessary to keep the surgical wound from becoming contaminated. In order to do their job right, all the personnel and their equipment must be clean-and not clean in an ordinary sense, either. They have to be, in some sense, pure. In ethics, you need to be pure in order to be useful. Purity is not a thing in itself, desirable because it will demonstrate your goodness and holiness; it is, rather, a preparation for the life and work God has for you as his servant in the end-time. Paul places this standard in the context of the end-time: "Besides this, you know what hour it is, how it is full time now for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed." What is the response to that? Cast off the works of darkness. The imagery here is that of changing clothes. It is not simple to cast off the old clothes, the works of darkness. They are not as unattractive as they sound; they have appeal or they wouldn't have been put on in the first place. After all, "men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil" (John 3:19). But Christians must cast them off because day is at hand, and the works of darkness are unsuitable. Further on in the passage are cited some examples of these works of darkness: "reveling and drunkenness, debauchery and licentiousness, quarreling and jealousy." Though the list is not exhaustive, it deserves scrutiny. We are past the point where we all agree without argument that this or that activity or attitude is "wrong." We must examine each one and show why it s wrong-for even these examples might have their defenders. In order to explain why these are "works of darkness" we must anticipate ourselves somewhat and say that the heart of all Christian ethics is love. Reveling, drunkenness, debauchery, licentiousness, quarreling, jealousy are all unloving-not because they are intended to be, but because they are undisciplined and careless. The person who gives himself to them no longer has control over his thoughts and actions. He lets the passion and desire of the moment hold sway over him, and in that condition he cannot take thought for others. Thoughtfulness is a synonym of love; love cannot be sustained on passion alone. Lesser passions will crowd it out, like weeds among flowers. The works of darkness and the works of love cannot be sustained side by side in the same life. This goes for quarreling and jealousy as well as for reveling, drunkenness, and the others. They are no worse, as works of darkness, than the others; but then they are no better either. What we must be careful of here is the practice of casting off other people's works of darkness-confessing their sins instead of our own. The quarrelers criticize the drunks and the drunks criticize the quarrelers; Paul says, let's have neither one! For when a person says he is no worse than anybody else, what does that prove about what he could be and should be? The command to cast of the works of darkness is followed immediately by the command to put on the armor of light. Practical purity depends as much on what we have as on what we do not have. But what is the armor of light? "Put on the Lord Jesus Christ." How do you "put on" another person? Keeping in mind Paul's figure of speech about the changing of clothes, let us stay with it. A middle-aged man is digging in the flowerbed on his front lawn. His house is beautiful and expensive enough, but for the work he is doing the homeowner has put on his oldest and grubbiest clothes. A sailor on shore leave walks by, not noticing him. Why should he? The man in the flowerbed is just like thousands of others on a pleasant afternoon. But the next morning the middle-aged man steps out of his house on his way to work. He is in the uniform of an admiral in the Untied States Navy. His trousers are sharply creased, his chest is covered with ribbons, his cap and his sleeves accented in gold. He is reporting to his flagship. Arriving at the ship, he steps aboard. The boatswain pipes his arrival, the pennants flap in the breeze, several hundred sailors in dress whites stand at attention-including the sailor who had failed to notice him the afternoon before. What has happened? He is the same man who was working in his yard the day before, and yet he isn't. He has cast off his dirty overalls and put on a uniform of power and authority. In that uniform he represents more than himself. When you put on the Lord Jesus Christ you stand for him and in him. Paul dares to say, "And make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires" because the desires of the flesh dim in significance when you put on Jesus. On the other hand, it is very difficult "to make no provision for the flesh" if you refuse to "put on the Lord Jesus Christ." Practical purity, therefore, is more a shift in identity than in conduct. But it is not automatic; it is up to us to cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light and so be prepared to greet the new day. » Next Page — Faithfulness » Table of Contents » Home |