works based theology // “I don’t do those things”
Yesterday was one of those days where you get going talking about something like how we live in front of the world and then things start clicking in your mind and you’re whipping out thoughts that you make you think, “Maybe I’m starting to understand this thing a little better. As a result of that conversation, I wanted to get your thoughts on something. I’m basically going to share the conversation and what I said, and you tell me if you think I’m off base or if it makes sense and you think it could be correct.
The conversation has drifted to what “Christians should or shouldn’t do in front of lost people. What you’re going to have to do is climb into my mind and look through my eyes. I say:
You see, here’s Jesus standing in the middle.
You know when the pharisees looked at Jesus, what they saw was the world. They saw a drunkard cause He was hanging out with them, and there’s a good chance He may have had a glass of wine in His hand. They saw an adulterer because He was in a house and a hooker was kissing His feet, can you imagine how scandelous that moment would have been. They saw an unclean person because He hung out with lepers. They saw a thief because He went and hung out with a tax collector, an individual that was hated possibly more than the Romans themselves.
When the world looked the other way, however, what they saw was a man right where they were. Now I’m not suggesting in any way that he had sex with a prostitute, got himself drunk or stole, etc. But what they didn’t see was a man lording over them the things they “shouldn’t be doing.” He did want them to walk out of their sin, but what they saw was grace first.
When we look at people and tell them, “Stop doing ‘those’ things,” or suggest, “Well, I’m a Christian, and I can’t come to where you are because of ‘those’ things,” or, “stop doing those things and come over here,” we create a works based theology. Now I’m not carrying this to the extreme, because it would be moronic to put ourselves in compromising situations that cause us to sin and thus causing a rift in our relationship with God. But, I think its possible that we have become so consumed with minor issues and fear of ‘making another believer stumble’ that we have lost our broken heart for people who need Jesus, and furthermore show that what we truly believe in is a works based theology, “if you’ll stop those things, you can become a Christian.” What happened to meeting people right where they are like He did even if the ‘church people’ think you’re doing bad things just because you want to extend grace and salvation and freedom? What happened to salvation by grace?
eric b
Saturday, 13th June 2009 at 10:19 pm
You’re right on track, in my humble and limited understanding; after all, the Man Himself said:
“It is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but what comes out of the mouth; this defiles a person…”—Matthew 15:11 and so forth
Jesus’ speech (and accompanying actions) revealed His heart— the core of who He was—to Pharisee and sinner alike. He appealed to the so-called unclean because He did not talk down to them, telling them to do this and not do that, unlike the Pharisees, unlike many who to this day call themselves Christian—you know, the “white-washed tombs” even we sometimes lean toward being. To take from your ideas, He did not lord over them judging their every shortcoming; instead, He reflected the broken heart of His Father for His wayward people, offering a better way—the way of living relationship, not lifeless ritual and rule-keeping.
Indeed, He lived with the understanding of what we constantly seem to overlook: on their own, sinners cannot be anything but sinners. Or to put it another way: the dead cannot be anything but dead, much less act like the living. For this reason, He spent His life, as you say, “meeting people right where they are.” He did not expect them to change before they followed but because they followed. After all, they followed because He changed their hearts first.
i know that i seem to fall on the works-based side too often, even though i know that Grace reigns, saying “If i can stop doing this, or just do that better, then i’ll be a better Christ-follower.” i am also too often guilty of the well-at-least-i’m-better-than-that-guy-over-there mentality. My heart does not break as it should, over my own sin or for those who know no way besides their sin. But the Spirit continues to work in me, convicting me of my own shortcomings and changing and renewing my mind so that more and more i chose to love rather than condemn.
However, i also agree with Paul in his letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor 6:12 and 10:23–the two “all things are lawful” statements) and in his life (his Nazarene vow among the Corinthians). He chose to abstain from even some of the lawful in order to set himself further apart and show the superiority of Christ to everything else. In that, we should be careful where and when we choose to do certain things, even if our freedom allows it. For example, i have chosen not to consume alcohol in my life up to this point because, for my time amongst the ultimate team, it helped to contrast the choices and the highest source of joy and life they could hopefully see in me with the existence those around me chose.
But i certainly agree with you that even in our abstinence, we should not say to those without Christ, “i’m better than you because i don’t do these things; if you want to be a Christian, you have to be like me.” After all, how arrogant are we to assume that God works by formula and that we are the perfected model.
So, i guess to conclude, i agree in full: in the end, it boils down to appearing as Christ in front of the lost, reaching them where they are, no matter what others might see. As Paul said, “I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some.”Paul made no excuses; neither should we. God knows the heart and the motive, and all that matters is that we act and live and love with the heart and mind and eyes of Christ.
Sorry to dominate this comment section with a massive text block. Peace.