Free to Live: The Utter Relief of Holiness (5 page)

The phone rings; you check caller ID and don’t answer it. You satisfy yourself by thinking, “Well, we are in the middle of dinner.” But the real motive is you are avoiding that person. You have something to say to a friend or a co-worker; you choose e-mail to say it. Why? Because it will help that person better understand the issue? Or because you haven’t the courage to tell him to his face? Isn’t it easier to take shots from a distance? You laugh at your neighbor’s jokes during the annual Christmas party; yet you hate your neighbor. So what’s with the pretending?

You are faithful in attending church. Why? Is it because you are truly worshiping God there? Or could it be because you know people will “talk” if you don’t? Speaking of church, why the joke in the sermon? Is it really part of the message God gave you—or does it serve to win the crowd, make the congregation like you? We get angry when our children misbehave in public. Why? Isn’t it really because it is embarrassing, because the crowd is now looking at us and forming opinions about us as parents? I want my sons to be seen as spiritual. Why? Could the fact that I’m a Christian author and leader of a ministry be playing a role in that—or is it truly a longing for them to walk with God?

Friends, until we begin to get honest about our motives, we are kidding ourselves about holiness. We are pretending.

Most of my readers probably remember the commercials comparing the Mac to the PC. “Hello. I’m a Mac.” “And I’m a PC.” They were funny; they were clever; they were absolutely brilliant. The Mac was hip, laid-back, dressed for the times, tolerant, “authentic,” the ultimate postmodern. The PC was awkward, dressed for the office climate of the 1980s, goofy, overweight, fumbling, and clearly
not
authentic. C’mon now, admit it—you wanted to be the Mac. Even if you didn’t own a Mac computer or ever cared to own a Mac, in that commercial, you wanted to be the Mac. Who wants to be the schlub?

Surely you are aware what a powerful motive “wanting to be liked” is. It shapes what you wear every day. The way you talk. The way you present yourself to the world. What you say. What you won’t say. How you want to be seen. Your opinions. In the powerful riptide of current opinion, laid-back is in; uptight is out. Tolerant is in; dogmatic is out. Enlightened is in; yesterday is out. Thus the brilliance of those ads. But this goes way beyond computers. It shapes our theology, our politics, our values. It is shaping you more than you know.

Think about what you choose to wear—is it
really
only because you like it? Don’t you also hope that others will think certain things about you—that you are rugged, or sexy, or environmentally conscious, or cool? A few years ago Toms shoes were the craze. The founder had a great idea—make an eco-friendly shoe and build a movement around it by giving a free pair to an underprivileged child somewhere in the world every time a pair of Toms was bought by a consumer. The shoes became a huge hit on college campuses. They also had no arch support, looked like a potato sack, and made your feet smell like a sewer in about a week. (My friends who wore Toms said they couldn’t take them off in public settings because of the stench.) But the shoes sure made a statement about your socially conscious consumer choices. Very, very “in.”

Except—Jesus said when we do our acts of social good, we’re not supposed to let anyone know about them. “But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret.” Hmm. What is really at work here?

According to Jesus, anyone wanting to pursue a true life, anyone wanting to live with integrity and authenticity, has to be honest about his motives. Anything less is a farce. This is no cause for shame. But it does beg a little humility, and honesty. Our fig leaf is not quite as noble as we thought. I am about to order a pair of shoes online. I know what I like. I also know what my peers would think was cool and,
more
important, what would invite quite a bit of grief. What’s really influencing me? The scripture says, “The fear of man is a snare.” The fear of man is a terrible motive for the things we choose to say or not say, wear or not wear, the politics we hold, the theology we embrace or reject.

Let me push a little further into this. How about personality? Most people don’t realize that what we call our personality has some very profound motives behind it.

Every child is born into this world without a deep and enduring confidence in the goodness of God. That’s part of what we got from Adam and Eve. We are born into this world doubting God—and then things happen. We are wounded. We are disappointed. Shame takes hold. On other occasions, we are rewarded, we are noticed, we fit in. Convictions begin to form within us. When it comes to the wounding and the shame, we say,
I know how to make sure that never happens again. I will be shy; I will be friendly; I’ll keep my mouth shut; I’ll be funny all the time.
When it comes to getting rewarded, noticed, invited “in,” we say,
I know how to make sure that happens, too—I’ll be smart, athletic, pretty, spiritual
. On and on it goes. These things are constructed over time, and they operate as what we call our personality, our approach to life. Friends, your personality is
designed
to accomplish exactly what it’s accomplishing: avoid shame, get a little applause.

I can be a very driven man; I set very high standards; I push myself hard. There are certain “rewards” that come along with this way of living: I get a lot done, I can be successful. But that drivenness that the world so often rewards is really quite godless. The motive is horrible. It is born from two sources: an early childhood wound of abandonment, and a very early resolution that said,
Fine. I’ll go it alone
. It’s a combination of woundedness and sin. It looks fine on the outside, but inside, this cup needs a good bit of scrubbing.

A guy I worked with always loved to pronounce his words very carefully, sometimes using a British pronunciation (though he was from Los Angeles). It had nothing to do with diction; he
desperately
wanted to be seen as intelligent. Another colleague would always ask, “How
are
you?” But the truth is, he did it so that you would ask
him
how he was; he wanted to be asked. A third guy in the office was constantly dropping the ball on his projects; he would say, “I’m just not an organized person.” How convenient—it required everyone else to cover for him. How lovely! You get to live irresponsibly and make others carry the load. Friends, there is always a motive to the way we’re living.

We say we’re not comfortable in social settings; I want to ask, “And how does that work for you?” Does it allow you to forgo the hard work of learning to relate to other people, to make conversation that engages them? How convenient.

Take as another example issues of masculinity and femininity. Sometimes I’ll run into guys who say they “don’t go for all that outdoor stuff.” That’s fine; you don’t have be a lumberjack to be a man. The central issue of masculinity is courage; courage can express itself in the city as much as in the outdoors. However, I want to push into this dismissal a bit and ask why? Why is it
really
that you are not “into” outdoor stuff? You see, every man has a very deep and powerful commitment never, ever to place himself in a situation where he might be exposed. The outdoors exposes us; it tests us. Avoiding it is safe. How convenient. (On the other hand, guys who always have to have Carhartts on or cowboys boots—what’s
that
about?) Do you see how the issue of motive runs deeper than, “I’m into this and you’re into that”?

In a similar fashion, women often tell me, “I’m not really into all that women’s stuff—dresses, makeup, jewelry.” That’s okay—lots of women are more “tomboyish” or athletic; perhaps they are into engineering; maybe they just like blue jeans. That’s fine; femininity expresses itself in many ways. But may we push into that a little bit? Have you ever asked what’s behind that?
Why
don’t you want to be seen as feminine? Might it be that you fear you are not, so why bother trying? Might it be that you don’t want to draw the attention of men? And why is that? How is that safer for you? (And those of you gals who won’t leave the house without your makeup on—what’s
that
about?)

Friends, I hope you begin to see that we all have an approach to life, and we think our approach entirely justified. It has never even occurred to most of us that our
personality
is a reflection of our holiness! But listen to this definition St. Paul offers in the Book of Romans:

Well, now—that boils things down pretty quickly. Sin is not primarily an issue of behavior; it isn’t an issue of correct doctrine. It is an issue of
motive
. Whatever isn’t born out of deep confidence in God is sin. That includes our personality and our approach to life.

Some friends invite you to a party; you decline, explaining that you’re busy. But the truth is you’re really uncomfortable at parties. The issue is fear. That’s not faith; it’s a self-protective move on your part. And it isn’t loving, it isn’t holy. On the other hand, some of you cannot bear to be left out of a party; you always make sure somehow or other to get yourself included. Why? You fear rejection; you need to be affirmed by others’ interest in you. That’s not faith, either; it’s controlling. It is also a self-protective move on your part, just as unholy.

Everything we do has a motive behind it. This is such a helpful category. It will be the dawning of a new day for us when we can simply accept Jesus’ offer of genuine integrity by looking at our motives. Begin to be honest about your motives. There’s no shame, no condemnation; everything is covered by the grace of Christ. (More on that in a bit.) So let’s go ahead and put it all on the table. Just begin to be honest about your motives. “This is really what’s fueling me. This is why I say this or don’t say that. This is why I eat this or don’t eat that. This is why I go to church. This is why I pray. This is what is motivating me.” And then begin to choose otherwise.

Begin to
choose
according to motive. This is where genuine goodness is lived out; this is the real deal. The sense of personal integrity that it will give you will be profound, absolutely profound. What a relief to operate not out of fear, but out of faith; not out of self-protection, but out of love. Oh, the joy of it! Once you begin to taste it, the old ways become less and less attractive. You find yourself saying,
I just don’t want to live that life anymore. I want the real thing. I want holiness. I want the real deal.
So David prays,

Chapter Five

A Question

Let me pause at this point and ask you a question: What are you repenting of ? I mean, right now, this week, what is it that you are repenting of these days?

If you don’t have a ready answer, how can you be taking holiness seriously?

If your answer focuses on something external, what about the matters of the heart behind it?

It’s worth a pause.

Chapter Six

By Way of Contrast

I remember sitting in a church service several years ago while the congregation sang a worship song about holiness. It’s a beautiful song that includes these lines: “Refiner’s fire, my heart’s one desire, is to be holy.”
2

I found myself squirming; I just couldn’t sing the song with integrity. My heart’s
one
desire? I don’t think it’s even on the top-ten list. I want life; I want love; I want beauty, joy, laughter, friendship, adventure. I want happiness. I simply didn’t understand the connection between holiness and any of that. I find I’m not alone—I mean, really, is holiness something you and your friends talk about on a regular basis? With longing? Who was the last person who came to you and asked, “I really hunger and thirst for holiness—can you help me?” We don’t understand the link between holiness and the life we long for.

So let’s come back to our conversation about the restoration of our humanity:

We were created for life, love, beauty, joy, laughter, friendship, adventure. These are the very things God wants for us. But we cannot find that life, let alone sustain it, until we are restored as men and women. The more I get to know Jesus, the more he changes my understanding of what holiness is all about. And the more I see him operate, the more I am captured by the beauty of his life. Now, in our search for the beauty of holiness, we are going to have to get a few things out of the way. Sometimes a good contrast helps us to see things more clearly.

You can learn a lot about God by paying close attention to what gets Jesus mad. He’s a pretty composed fellow most of the time (which in itself is just amazing, given how he was treated). So when he starts in with the “woe to you” rants, you know something has touched a nerve. In this case, it is religious “technical rule-keeping.”

My son was applying to a Christian college this fall. Part of the process involved writing a few essays. One that the school required was an essay on “Why is keeping the rules important?” You have got to be kidding me—this is the test of a true follower of Christ? What does this say about church culture? Wouldn’t a far more valuable essay be “Why is loving Jesus the most important thing a person can give his life to?” After all, “Love God” is the first commandment. What’s with the obsession with rule-keeping? Was Jesus obsessed with that?

In fact, his freedom was so disruptive that the religious elders decided they’d better kill him before he infected the nation with it. So Jesus must have a different understanding of holiness than technical rule-keeping.

Let’s take the speed limit as an example. Does God expect you to drive the speed limit? The moralist says, “Absolutely. Every time. Without exception.” But is that God’s view?

For many years now, Christians have been smuggling Bibles into countries where it is illegal to possess a Bible. At the risk of imprisonment, torture, and even possible execution, devout followers of Jesus have systematically and with careful planning broken the law. Churches back home have supported them. Are you going to say that’s a sin? The reason I bring it up is that the technical moralists—who fill many a pew, I might add—would say that breaking the speed limit is a sin because government laws are always obeyed. Well, then, what about smuggling Bibles? Or simply sharing Christ—there are countries where that is breaking the law. Do you obey the government, or are there higher laws that a Christian lives by?

There you have it: The apostles were lawbreakers. But they were very holy men. Blind technical obedience to rules and laws is obviously therefore
not
holiness.

So let’s come back to the speed limit. If your child has stopped breathing, and you are racing to get her to the hospital, it is ridiculous to suggest you drive the speed limit. Of course you drive carefully, but carefully in this case also includes
quickly
. How preposterous to suggest that breaking the speed limit is a sin.

On the other hand, let’s say you are driving through a neighborhood where the speed limit is thirty-five miles per hour. Legally, you can go thirty-five. However,
you
know from experience that up ahead is the house where most of the kids on the block hang out. They’re always up to some shenanigans or other, and it’s pretty common for one of them to dash out unexpectedly into the street after a skateboard or basketball. The right thing to do is to slow down. If you maintain thirty-five miles per hour, you may be keeping the letter of the law but you are violating the spirit of it. Which brings us to a very, very important point: God cares far more that we keep the spirit of the law than the letter of it.

The
purpose
of traffic regulations is the protection of human life and property. Are you driving in a manner in which life and property are protected? Then you’ve kept the law. The Pharisee who drives thirty-five miles per hour past the house where children are playing says, “But I have kept the letter of the law.” Jesus is not impressed. On the other hand, let’s say you are cruising down some lost highway in the Nevada desert. It is a glorious afternoon. No one ahead, no one behind. Do you have to follow the speed limit? Nope. Everything is protected, nothing’s at stake; you can fulfill the
spirit
of the law without observing the letter, just as you can break the spirit of the law even though you keep the letter. Technical rule-keeping is not holiness.

But that is a pretty marshmallow example. Let’s turn our attention to something far more urgent: sex.

After a number of years counseling students from Christian colleges, I am heartbroken by what passes for sexual integrity right now. The idea that has crept in (and you can understand why) goes basically like this: Everything but penetration. You can do everything but “have sex” and you’re okay. Groping. Body humping. Even oral sex. (If this shocks you, I’m sorry, but it’s true—this is the unspoken sexual ethic of a number of our Christian young people.) This is the poison of “technical morality.” By keeping the letter of the law—“we didn’t
do it
, we didn’t ‘have sex’”—they think they’ve kept the law. But hold on a second. How does that line up with “If you look at a woman to lust after her, you have committed adultery.” I’m thinking if the two participants have most of their clothes off, they’re probably well across that line; they are well past adultery of the heart.

Technical rule-keeping is a choice practice in many churches. Yet it ignores the deeper issues—the question of motives, and the radical difference between the spirit of the law and the letter of the law. I believe there is an enormous amount of freedom for the sons and daughters of God. We are freed from the crushing burden of technical morality. But it doesn’t mean all standards have been thrown to the wind. Far from it. We are ruled now by higher laws and, always, by the law of love.

Before we uncover the jewel in this passage, can we pause and enjoy Jesus himself for a moment? In the midst of his passionate, thundering tirade, Jesus has such a facility with words. What a turn of a phrase—straining gnats and swallowing camels. It is colorful, undeniable, swift, and devastating. Wow! Jesus is brilliant.

I knew a man who was fired from his job at a Christian high school because one of the church elders saw him purchasing cigarettes at the local grocery store. They canned him, even though he was the best teacher they had. Now, first off, the Bible does not prohibit smoking. But this has become a favorite of the technical morality police in certain churches. What is even more diabolical about the story is the pleasure these Pharisees had in firing the young teacher. Their judgment was swift and severe; their self-righteous smugness was far sicker than this guy smoking a cigarette. Jesus calls this straining gnats but swallowing camels.

The poison of technical rule-keeping is that it shifts the focus from serious issues to ridiculous peccadilloes, thus allowing the legalist to live what he believes is a “righteous life” when in fact he is failing at the very things God majors in. Take as an example a man who hates his wife; he resents her. But he has never committed adultery; he is “faithful” to her. He prides himself on his selective morality—keeping the letter of the law while ignoring massive problems in his heart. Is this holiness?

Ask yourself what it would take for a person to get fired from your church, your Christian school or ministry. What is your church’s understanding of holiness? What are the categories they are thinking in? It is a very revealing test. The scriptures say that the way you treat people is a little more important than whether you smoke, for heaven’s sake. Pride and arrogance are far more serious issues than swearing; idolatry and hatred are far more serious than how fast you drive.

In fact, holiness isn’t even the same thing as morality. You can be a moral person and not love God. You can keep the laws and hate your neighbor. Jesus is not trying to produce Pharisees; he is trying to restore our humanity by giving us the beauty of his holiness, make us whole and holy by his love.