“Do not handle, do not taste, do not touch.” Sound like a sign in the fruit department?
A lot of times Christians seem to think this is the definition of virtue: walking through the aisle of fun things in life wearing handcuffs. We hear about all the things Christians can’t do, the people Christians can’t date, the places Christians can’t go, the words Christians can’t say. We see a lot of people walking around with What Would Jesus Not Do bracelets (well, okay, I made that one up).
We Christians look a lot like everyone else, only with a longer not-to-do list.
This definition of virtue as un-vice shows up in all of our attempts to not-do stuff for God. We pat ourselves on the back for how holy we’re being, complain to God about how difficult it is and how much we’re giving up for him; and then we’re shocked when we do what we don’t want to do—or maybe more honestly, what we wanted to do, but knew we shouldn’t (What?! You mean Christians get pregnant out of wedlock too?!).
STOP NOT-DOING STUFF FOR GOD!
Behold the great lie of the enemy: “nice = not vice!” We think as if vice is the real thing, and we must struggle against it if we want to please God. The truth is vice-versa.
Virtue is not a lack, an absence, or a refraination (okay, so I made that word up); it is a thing in itself— “white is a color, not merely the absence of color,” as Chesterton said. Disease is not a thing in itself; it is an absence of health. Health is the thing (is that Chesterton too?).
Every vice is simply a misuse of virtue, either through excess or shortage. It is a failure to hit the balance of the golden rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you (notice the positive way Christ stated this, not as a negative like other religions), for this sums up the law and the prophets.”
“The commandments…‘you shall not…you shall not…you shall not…you shall not’…are summed up in this word: ‘you shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law,” says Paul. (Rom. 13:9,10; Gal. 5:13,14). “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them,” says Christ (Matt. 5:17).
If the law is love, and God is love, does the law = God? The law is an expression of the character of God, His glory. Any time we fall short of keeping the law, we fall short of the character of God; in short, short of virtue.
Virtue, as defined by the dictionary, includes the ideas of “righteousness,” or “rectitude;” the right ordering of loves, I vaguely remember someone calling it. What is the right ordering of loves? Love the Lord your God, with all your heart, and soul, and mind, and strength. Why? Because God is selfish? No. Because it is right to love Him the most, because He is the highest and best and truest and most beautiful; any messing with the order of our loves skews their relationship to one another and leaves us in a vicious downward spiral. Only when we love God the most can we love our neighbor rightly; only when we love God and our neighbor can we fulfill the righteous requirement of the law.
The inverse (or corollary, or whatever you wish) of this principle is that any vice is a failure to love God. This is why we can’t defeat it by just trying to combat the sin; we have to get to the root by dealing with our love for God.
I tried this out this morning. I went for a walk to pray, but kept being distracted by thoughts about my Self.
I struggle with vanity sometimes. I know, some might say, “That’s not vanity, it’s just a mistake!” and some might say, “That statement is fishing for compliments.” Vanity is not always displayed in thinking I am beautiful, but in thinking about my appearance (or intelligence, or niceness, or…) in the wrong way— I can be just as vain when I look in the mirror and say, “Wow, I look ugly today!” as when I say, “Wow, I look good!” The danger lies in the thinking of myself and my own worth by my own standards or those around me, and not with sober judgment. My eyes are not getting past myself and what is visible to what is Real. And any woman (man too, I’m sure, but maybe in different ways) knows how dangerous this is. This is why we have such problems with self-esteem sometimes. Thanks for the warning, proverbist, about beauty being fleeting, but we knew that already.
So, anyway, I went for a walk, but kept getting distracted. “Lord, I just can’t stop thinking about this, but I know I need to, because I know it’s sinful and not pleasing to you,” I said. “And why is it sin?” He asked. “Well…” I said. “I suppose because it’s wanting me to be God and wanting everything to revolve around me instead of you.” Funny how all my sins seem to come back to this. Or not so funny. “But I do want you to be God, I just can’t get rid of myself and my obsession with myself.”
“Leave that to me,” He said. “Now, speaking of beauty, where does it come from? Who made it? Who is the most beautiful?”
“Well, you I guess…” I said, and raised my head. What was it I had read about adoration, the thing we’re supposed to start prayers with? Oh, thinking of it as giving compliments to God. I looked around.
“Wow, Lord,” I said. “What a beautiful day you have made! Look at all those colors! Those butterflies, and those flowers—you really are an amazing artist.” And I meant it.
And then I realized the virtue which vanity derives from: pride. A real, healthy pride in God’s beauty and artistry and goodness. The sense of, “Yeah, well, my Daddy can create a prettier world than your daddy!”
I laughed. And when I got home, I looked in the mirror and didn’t see myself; I saw someone God had made. And it was good.
So this is what we come down to, once again: it’s not about me, it’s about God.
Of course even realizing this doesn’t mean we won’t struggle (sin is not the same as temptation) or have to exercise self-control. But self-control is a fruit of the Spirit, not its fertilizer. So we can boast in our weaknesses (even when they’re temptations to sin), fixing our eyes above, where Christ is seated. Knowing that our weakness can display His perfect power, and we needn’t be afraid. Knowing that we have the promise of the hope of glory. Knowing that someday, someday, we will be like Him.
*acknowledgments: I am indebted to Charles Price, pastor of The People's Church of Toronto and speaker at the recent Avant Europe conference, for the understanding that the character of God is the glory of God. And indebted to the other people for their ideas that I used--probably more than I am aware of, because some of my thoughts don't sound entirely original and I'm sure the originals stated them in a much clearer way. Yes, some of them I know, but don't want to name for fear of being guilty of presumption.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
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