[12/07/19]
Having considered the nature of sin, it now becomes necessary to consider the sin nature itself. Are we innocents who became sinners because at some point we sinned, or are we innately sinful, sinning because that is our nature? How deep must we go to find the root of our problem? If we start from the position of innocence, then we must ask how it is that man is so universally and without exception sinful? Is the Creation so flawed as to render righteousness impossible? If, on the other hand, we are sinners from the outset, then we must ask if it was always so; was Adam in the same position? Further, does this situation somehow decry God as having planned evil?
The questions themselves tend to force the answer, in my opinion, but then they would, wouldn’t they? The questions themselves, having come from me, will tend to reflect my views in the very fact that they occur to me to ask. That said, this matter of the sin nature, and in particular, the question of how deep the depravity, have been longstanding points of debate in the Church. I shall need more than opinion, and at the same time, I shall need to remain humble, recognizing that even where an opposing viewpoint is held, the same verses I am likely to consider will have been considered. The conclusions are not the result of evil desire to pervert the truth, but are the result of fervent desire to know and preserve the truth. Now, I should have to show my hand and say that even that fervent desire (and even in myself) is tainted by sin such that we remain quite capable of self-delusion, quite capable of arriving at false conclusions utterly convinced of ‘our truth’. I am not after my truth, but the truth of God. Yet, I am also effectively expositing and to some degree attempting to verify that my truth is true to the truth of God.
a. Age of Innocence
Here is a defining point for our worldview as concerns this sin nature. Is there an age in man before which concepts of sin and righteousness do not yet apply? That is to say, is there some age of innocence up until which one’s actions and thoughts have no particular moral weight? We tend to think of babies as innocent little beings, incapable of evil. But is this accurate? Is this the biblical view? I have visited this passage before, but it is a key passage to recognizing the situation in regard to this question. I think, of course, of David’s magnificent psalm of repentance after having taken Bathsheba, another man’s wife, and also having sent the husband to his death in battle.
I want to quote it somewhat at length here. “Be gracious to me, O God, according to Your lovingkindess; according to the greatness of Your compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity and cleanse me from my Sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against You, You only, I have sinned and done what is evil in Your sight, so that You are justified when You speak and blameless when You judge. Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin my mother conceived me” (Ps 51:1-5).
Reading that, it’s hard not to ask, what about Bathsheba? What about Uriah? Did you not sin against them as well, David? I would have to answer that every sin against man is in fact a sin against God, and on this basis: Apart from God we can have no real basis for sin. Apart from God there is no defining right and wrong, good and evil. As there is, however, definition to these concepts, to violate righteousness, whoever may be involved, is in fact sin against God. If you fail to love your brother, it is against God you sin. “Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me” (Mt 25:45). There, Jesus speaks of withholding the good you know to do; of simple acts of kindness one toward another. And He observes that these failures to act count against one’s relationship to Him, even though the parties involved are merely neighbors and acquaintances. Sin is against God, whoever may be involved in the action.
Now, David is also very clear on another matter: God is not unjust. Where He punishes sin, He judges rightly. In the case of this particular sin of David’s, the punishment would prove severe. It would cost him his firstborn by that union. That is the immediate punishment we see, and we see as well that David accepts it, for it is from a just God. But it has to be said that much of what happens in David’s later years comes as result of this sinful act as well. The whole matter of Absalom and his attempt to usurp the throne of his father can be laid to this sin. And still the judgment holds. “You are justified when You speak and blameless when You judge.”
But my immediate concern here is the last verse quoted. “I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin my mother conceived me.” Is David suggesting that the very act of procreation is sinful? It cannot be the case, for God Himself ordained that it be so. “Go forth and multiply” is a commandment of God, and the marriage bed is the God-ordained place for pursuing compliance to that commandment. I will add that, so long as the activity is consensual and between husband and wife in fidelity one to another, whether procreation is an intended result, or merely the pursuit of mutual pleasure and intimacy, the action remains in its own way sacred.
Paul, who seems to have been somewhat an ascetic in regard to such matters, allows, “If they do not have self-control, let them marry; for it is better to marry than to burn with passion” (1Co 7:9). I don’t know what exactly leads Paul to this view, other than a desire that all believers be undistracted in their devotion to Christ. I am led to believe that he must have been married at some point, having been a Pharisee; that this was something of a requirement of that sect, but this is not something I’ve been able to confirm one way or the other, nor have I been terribly concerned to do so. Whatever the case, we find zero mention of Paul’s wife, if in fact he had one. If he did, I think we must suppose she had passed on even before we find him arriving on the scene in Acts. At any rate, he does not seem to have been offended by marriage. Consider his close friendship with Priscilla and Aquila. But neither was he particularly prone to sexual temptations, and this he attributes quite directly to a gift given him by the Holy Spirit. Indeed, he rather strongly advises these same Corinthians not to attempt such a celibate lifestyle apart from having received the same gift from the same Spirit. To do so unequipped, as it were, would be to lay oneself open to temptations on every side. For the same cause, he instructs those who are married not to pursue a celibate marriage, except it be for limited season, for the purpose of prayer, and a matter of mutual agreement.
Back to David. “In sin my mother conceived me.” This is not a comment on his mother, or the circumstances of his birth. It is a declaration as to the reality of the situation at birth. At that moment of conception, he says, sin was already present, already charged against him. This is not something that was unique to David. It is the common experience of all mankind. To my thinking, this statement by itself already puts paid to any idea of there being an age of innocence. If David was sinful from conception, and David is one of the pinnacles of righteous humanity, then surely, we are in the same situation as he. Surely, we too are born in iniquity and conceived in sin. We are all of us inheritors of the sins of our common father, Adam. Sin is our starting point.
[12/08/19]
As I said, such a conclusion in regard to ourselves must lead us to the question of Adam’s starting point. Was he, as created, already a sinner by nature? If we are conceived in sin, was he created in sin? Here, I think we must answer in the negative, for Adam’s creation was more immediately an act of God, in that there was not another involved in the process. Likewise, Eve’s creation, in spite of requiring a bit taken out of Adam, was not Adam’s work in any fashion. It was by God and God alone. What we can say is that God, having created these two sinless beings in His image, knew even before He set about the work that they would indeed sin in spite of them not being sinners from the outset.
As to Adam and Eve, the start of man, they started sinless, and they had within them the potential, the possibility of remaining so. They could have remained sinless, but they most assuredly would not do so. The Fall was known before Creation began, and in reality, it was part of the purpose of Creation insomuch as it led to the necessity of the Cross, and thereby served God’s purpose of glorifying Himself in Creation. But none of that eases the burden on Adam and Eve, in terms of guilt and responsibility for their actions.
b. Incapacity for Good
This moves us rather nicely into the next topic: Man’s incapacity for good. Adam and Eve had within them the capacity for good. There was a choice to be made. How I would love to tell you that in their original form, there was no capacity for evil, but that clearly is not the case. Had they been created thus, the devil’s gambit would have failed at the outset, and the whole project of Creation would have proceeded quite differently.
Adam and Eve, we must recognize, had the capacity for both good and evil. They had moral agency, even if they did not, prior to violating the one prohibition they were under, have any experience of evil. I have hit on this point before, but it bears reminding ourselves. It was not the case that Adam and Eve had no sense of right and wrong. They were not amoral beings in their inception. They had no experience of evil. They assuredly had experience of good, for they walked with God who is good. They had sufficient understanding of right and wrong to recognize the significance of a command. An amoral being would be pointless to command, for the most he might take from it would be a suggested course which he could accept or reject as he pleases.
So, there was knowledge there, a recognition at the very least that disobedience to God would be wrong. I suspect that at the outset, it was also unthinkable, at least until the thought was suggested to them. It strikes me that it wasn’t the fruit of the tree that imparted to them the knowledge of good and evil, but the act of taking that fruit in knowing disobedience to God’s clear instruction. Therein came the first personal experience of evil, of wrong. Therein came the knowledge.
What are we to say of all who have followed? Are we, too, born with some innocence of evil? No. I have already put paid to any such idea. The greater question is whether we have any real sense of good. Is there, has there ever been this side of Eden, the least possibility of man completing his course in righteousness? I think we must conclude that apart from God’s intervention, the answer is no. If it were possible at all, we should find evidence of it by now, and yet no such evidence is found.
You may point me to various philanthropic efforts put forth by unbelievers. You may point me to the charitable deeds of idolatrous peoples. But then we must return to the question of how good is to be defined, and that question is not going to find a satisfactory answer in mankind. If man is the determinant of what is good, then good has no real meaning. Good is whatever prevails in popular opinion at the moment. Such a perspective would be welcome by the world, as it pursues its current course of sexual depravity and corruption. Indeed, the world already calls such things good. Does that make them so? Clearly not. Slavery was once deemed not merely acceptable, but even good. Did that make it so? Would those who insist good is merely the sum of popular opinion accept that by the same measure, slavery is, or at least was good? By no means! It no longer maps to popular opinion, and suddenly, what is not deemed good now can never have been good. By the same token, whatever happens to be deemed good now must have been good in the past as well. So, good can change according to custom in such a worldview, but only in one direction. It is inconsistent.
With God defining Good, however, there is an unchanging standard. That Scripture admits to slavery, and even offers advice on how to deal with such a reality in godly fashion, this is not a condoning of the practice, only and acceptance that such are the facts on the ground. Idolatry is also recognized as part and parcel of the facts on the ground, but it in no way condoned, nor advised. Immorality is also, as ever, strongly represented by facts on the ground, but there is no way for the believer to participate in godly fashion whatsoever, nor is there the force of violence requiring participation, at least for the most part. The Bible is fiercely realistic in relaying the events of hero and villain alike, and we find that acts of villainy are reported for both alike.
The question returns: Are these the failings of damaged heroes? Or, were even the heroes, being born in sin, incapable of righteousness? When Moses presented God’s people with God’s Law, we had before us a very clear delineation of right and wrong. Here are the things you ought not to do, and as such, the very opposite is what you should do. Worship God. Do not worship idols. Honor your parents. Do not disregard them. Do not bear false witness, but testify truly when required to testify. Don’t murder your fellow man. Do expend every effort to support the life of your fellow man. And so on.
So, with such an aid to understanding what ought be done, how did we fair? Rather poorly, I should say. Indeed, in relatively short order we had opted to define those rules so narrowly as to allow all manner of violation while convincing ourselves we were in compliance. We have always been ship’s lawyers, as the phrase used to be. We are forever looking for loopholes. Indeed, for the most part, we won’t even bother looking. We’ll just assume them.
Martin Luther rather famously concludes that apart from God’s intervention, we are so thoroughly corrupted by our sinful nature as to be utterly incapable of true good. Oh, the sinner can do nice things. There can be a sort of honor among thieves, but it is a false honor, and a false niceness. The act may be fine, but the motive is off. Our best deeds are it seems unavoidably tainted with self-interest. If we manage to do what is right, it is not because the thing is right, but rather because we wish to avoid the consequences of wrong choice. For many, this is the only thing restraining the choice of outright evil; that we do not wish to suffer the consequences of so acting. But the thought remains. If we look to the preaching of our Lord Jesus, we are forced to confront the fact that the thought was already the crime. Now, if we include the thought life, I think even the best of us will have to admit failure. No, we may manage to choose not to act on evil impulse, but that alone is not goodness. In the thought-life, I suspect we all discover a far more vile individual than we allow to appear in public.
If we are not in fact utterly incapable of choosing good, we are at the very least incapable of choosing good for goodness’ sake. We are incapable of worshiping God simply because God is worthy. We are incapable of loving God. This is not something we like to hear. A large part of the Christian population would vehemently insist that they chose to love God and worship Him. It just needed awareness of the reality of God’s being. Once they knew, they chose. But I find I cannot agree.
The story of mankind is written in ungodliness. I return to Romans, as I do so often. “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse” (Ro 1:18-20). Take it out of the third person. It is you who is ungodly, unrighteous. It is you who suppress the truth which is evident within you. It is you who has clearly seen evidence of God, and refused to accept the evidence. It is you who is without excuse. Oh dear. That ‘you’ includes in its scope every man, woman, or child that ever has or ever will be. Each of us has personal responsibility for our personal failure.
Could we have succeeded? We must answer no. There was no least possibility of us becoming righteous by our compliance to God’s Law. By conception it was already too late, for one sin is as guilty as one hundred. We were born under penalty for our sins. We choose freely to sin, and we really cannot claim ignorance of right and wrong as our defense any more than could Adam and Eve.
Our biggest problem may be our blindness to what is good. We are stunningly capable of convincing ourselves that whatever it is we are doing, however much it may violate civil or moral law, is actually good. Isn’t this how we arrive at the modern mindset that my good may not be your good? Of course, as I have observed, your good darn well better be my good, or we’re going to have words. But the one who insists you bow to their definitions of good will not so much as consider bowing to yours. Again, it’s a one-way street.
c. Self-Delusion
[12/09/19]
What we see in this, in our sense of personally defined goodness and truth, is evidence of our self-delusion. At least, that’s what we ought to see. But self-delusion has a distinct blinding effect. We are never so blind as when we look at ourselves. Through Jeremiah, God informs us. “The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick. Who can understand it? ‘I, the LORD, search the heart, I test the mind, even to give to each man according to his ways, according to the results of his deeds’” (Jer 17:9-10). This declares both our problem, and the danger it presents to us. We are lied to by ourselves constantly. If we sin, our hearts tell us we have done no wrong, our minds concoct all manner of excuses as to why it was either right or not our fault or otherwise finds excuse, and in our sickness we accept the nonsense we tell ourselves over against the clear and obvious truth all around us.
You think this is not the case? Ask yourself, then, how it is that ostensibly sane adults, professionals and businessmen and the like, have become willing to nod and agree with the nonsensical claim that male and female are but two choices amongst a near infinite selection, that a man can be a woman and even require gynecological services merely because he thinks he ought to be. What are clearly mental issues, or we might admit, sin issues, are written off as acceptable. The heart is sick. The mind is deceitful. The self lies so adeptly that it readily becomes convinced of its own lies; comes even to prefer the lies to any bother with Truth.
Now we arrive at our biggest problem: We are utterly convinced that the problem is with everybody else, but we cannot see it in our own case. Oh sure, all around us is evidence that pretty much every person alive lives in a state of delusion when it comes to their own situation, but we’re pretty sure we’re the exception to that rule. Who can understand it?
The good news and the bad news alike is that God can and does. He knows the heart and mind of man. He sees through the gauze of self-deceit. He knows the truth of us. Here, in His message to the people of Jerusalem, to God’s people under judgment for their rejection of Him (even as they continue to call on His name), the message is dire. Each will receive according to the truth of his ways. All that self-delusion will have gained nothing, prevented nothing. Take that message, and recombine it with the news that all have sinned and gone astray. There is none who is righteous, no not one. The end result seems certain, does it not? If all are evil, and God gives each according to their deeds, then all is lost for humanity, and only punishment and the second death can possibly await.
And still we proceed, still we go on, fully convinced in our own minds that, “I’m a good man.” Surely, God will welcome the likes of me. Look at my wonderful works of righteousness. Isaiah knew better. “For all of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment; and all of us wither like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away. There is no one who calls on Your name, who arouses himself to take hold of You; for You have hidden your face from us and have delivered us into the power of our iniquity” (Isa 64:6-7).
Recognize that Isaiah, of necessity, includes himself in that assessment. We account him a righteous man, for he is a prophet, and somehow, we become convinced that the prophets and the apostles are by some rule excluded from such assessments. We’re still convinced that man can be good, at least good enough, on his own merits and in his own strength. We’re pretty sure that we are such a man, at least in our better moments. And we’re pretty swift and adept at glossing right over our worse moments.
That is the hideous reality of self-delusion. It strips us of any urge toward repentance because we cannot, or will not, see the need. Our hearts lie, and do their uttermost to convince us that all is well when all is in fact desperately sick, on the verge of dying. Go back to Adam and Eve in the garden, and I think we can be quite certain that in the moment of enacting that first sin, they had quite convinced themselves that they were doing nothing wrong. If they hadn’t done so, they would not have acted.
This is the reality of sin with us. We pursue sin under one of two delusions; either that the sinful act is not in fact sinful, or that God is not in fact God. If we had both matters clearly in view, we would never act on our sinful thought. Indeed, we would recoil from that sinful thought. But we do no such thing, and we still manage to convince ourselves of our piety. Imagine that! You think your heart is not deceptively wicked? Think of your self-image! If you are yet able to use the term good in relation to yourself, then that deception has not ceased from you.
Of course, the self-deceiving heart can and does attack from another direction. Among the redeemed we can yet find those whose concern for sin can lead them to discover sins where no sins exist, and this, too, is not merely in the actions of others, but also in assessing personal actions. I think we might find that Martin Luther was in such a state as a monk. He could not imagine himself as loved of God. I can sympathize, assuredly. I can be struck by the wonderful absurdity that a perfectly holy God can find it in Himself to love such a wreck as me. But even with such a mindset, I don’t find myself contemplating the sinfulness of every deed and thought in every moment, nor do I account that lack of mindfulness a sin in its own right. If I did, I should likely go mad with the constant self-critique. The danger, of course, is that I give myself a pass on things I ought not to do.
The danger of self-delusion, of the deceitful heart of man, is then twofold. On the one hand, our hearts cheerfully inform us that all is well when in fact our situation is dire. On the other hand, our hearts gloomily inform us that all is lost when in fact our hope is secure. Both conditions reflect our self-delusion, our failure to see the Truth set before us, which is, at root, our failure to hear and to heed the word God has spoken; most likely in preference for that which He has not said.
d. Self-Righteousness by False Standards
I should have to say that the worst form of self-deception is self-righteousness. It is a topic that comes up often in my studies, and primarily because it comes up often in Scripture. I have often written of it as the Codex of the Achievable, which tends to be our standard if we are not careful. What do I mean by this? I mean that if we look upon the Law in its full implication, in its full majesty as revealing the utter holiness of God and of His requirements for man, we must confront an unattainable goal. We have already failed, and there’s no way for us to change that. There is no do over.
Even if we were to measure our success from this moment forward, laying aside all that is behind us, we know full well (if we retain any self-awareness at all) that we shall surely fail. Yes, there have been those movements in the course of Christian history that thought perfection was indeed attainable in this life, and at least in some part by the efforts of man-made perfect in God. To be sure, such movements recognized the need for God in the equation, but it seems He is relegated to something of a starter kit, and man is left to finish the job. There are many who commit themselves to live lives of particular devotion to God, and these may, in fact, manage to convince themselves that they have advanced beyond the point of sin.
Let me start here. The one who insistently cries out, “I don’t lie!” has just lied. It’s the heart-disease of self-deception poking through. The one who says he doesn’t sin not only lies, but in doing so declares God a liar. Hear John’s admonition. “If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleans us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar and His word is not in us” (1Jn 1:8-10). Now, how the perfectionist can look upon that message and still find it in himself to boldly proclaim his perfection in holiness, I do not know. Perhaps they think John is only speaking of the past? But his words point forward, to the continual present.
If we go back to the ministry of Jesus, we find a drumbeat of charges against the Pharisees in the constant refrain of ‘Hypocrites!’ “When you give to the poor, don’t sound a trumpet for the occasion, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets” (Mt 6:2). They give, yes. Good deed, that. But they give to be seen giving, not for care as to the condition of the poor. “Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full.” What’s the message? If your goal is to be seen as good, then that assessment from your fellow man shall be the sum total of your reward. Congratulations, you’ve met your goal. Won’t avail you much come the judgment, though.
Now, that charge is laid pretty generally, but the practice points us to the target: The Pharisees. In the Christian mind, these two are all but synonymous: Pharisee and hypocrite. For what it’s worth, the Pharisees are still around and proud of it. But remember, the same Jesus decrying this hypocrisy set a standard for those who would follow Him. “For I say to you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5:20).
It's possible, certainly, that Jesus was effectively declaring the righteousness of scribe and Pharisee as completely null and void, and pointing to a different righteousness entirely. To some degree that is assuredly the case, for He is forcing us to look for a righteousness that comes from somewhere outside ourselves, a foreign righteousness. As He restores the Law to its full, unattainable significance, this must become clear. “You have heard that it was said, ‘you shall not commit adultery’; but I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Mt 5:27-28). Two points. First: This is addressed to a crowd that no doubt thought themselves free and clear so far as this particular law was concerned; right up until Jesus pulled the rug out from under them. Second: Women are by no means off the hook here. The nature of the society into which Jesus spoke meant the crowd would be primarily men, and the power lay primarily with the men. As such, it is the sin of the men that He addresses. But we know full well that women are just as liable to view men as sexual playthings, and to fantasize over this relationship or that. The message, however, is this: “Don’t be fooled. Don’t let your self-righteousness blind you to your true condition.”
[12/10/19]
The Pharisees did not set out to be hypocrites. This is something to be aware of. The Pharisees are not so very different from ourselves. They, like we, desired to be righteous. They wanted to be sure that they weren’t violating the law of God. They saw the seriousness of the Law and the holiness of God and thought it best to fence the Law, as it were, to ensure that they did not even come close to the point of breaking that Law. As it turns out, however, this was both futile and self-defeating.
I note that there are similarities to Eve’s actions in the garden. Asked about this prohibition they were under, she extended the actual law that God had set forth, made the restrictions stronger than were actually required. It may well be that what she stated was her internalization of that law, and her determination to avoid even the possibility of breaking it. If I’m not supposed to eat, best I don’t even touch it. The reaction is understandable. We would probably do the same thing.
That’s where the Pharisees were with their sundry rules. If this is what’s required, best we not even allow the possibility of getting close. If the law says don’t work on the Sabbath, we had best qualify and quantify what constitutes work so that we can be sure to avoid it. If it is sinful to take the Lord’s name in vain, best we not speak His name at all, lest we misspeak in doing so.
But what is arrived at by such efforts is not righteousness. I would say there are two possible outcomes, and both constitute failure. Either we will have made the restrictions so confining that we chafe at the unwanted constraints and wind up breaking not only our own rule but the very Law the rule intended to keep us clear of violating, or we become rather proud of ourselves for our compliance. In the first instance, we despair. We see nothing but failure and no path to compliance, so we give up. In the second, we obtain self-righteousness. Here is the hypocrisy of the Pharisee; which is to say, the hypocrisy of the believer who has lost sight of the Truth. Here is the Codex of the Achievable.
We see it in the charges Jesus levels against the Pharisees. “You tithe even your mint, your dill, your cummin, and have neglected the weightier provisions of the law: Justice and mercy and faithfulness; but these are the things you should have done without neglecting the others” (Mt 23:23). See carefully what has been said. He doesn’t say they’re chasing after the wrong things. He’s saying they’ve become self-satisfied and even self-promoting in these little victories, and have completely missed the big picture, and what it says of their utter failure.
If we go back to the Law of Moses, these are the ones who saw to it that they did not murder anybody and figured that by this measure, they were in perfect compliance with that commandment. They had not slept with another’s wife, so they figured they were free and clear on the adultery front. They were ever so careful! How could they be sinners? Why, just look at our practices. We won’t go more than umpteen feet of a Sabbath, lest it be found that we have been working. We are scrupulous about preparing meals in advance, so there will be no work in the kitchen on that day. We tithe everything, keeping careful accounts to ensure that even the produce of our window gardens is properly paid in to God’s treasury. Put it in more present-day terms. We make sure to turn any and all praise and honor given us upon God, and we do so quite vocally and, to be honest, rather proudly. We want to make sure it was noted. It’s like it won’t be put to our account unless others are made aware of our good deeds. I could say the same for my morning study efforts. What’s the value of it, if nobody’s aware? But this is the mindset of the Pharisee, the hypocrite, doing all these good things to be seen doing them; seeking the praise of man, even as we lay bold claim to seeking to praise God. It is self-righteousness, and it is a stench that rises to the heavens.
“You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his oxen or his donkey from the stall and lead him away to water him? And this woman, a daughter of Abraham as she is, whom Satan has bound for eighteen long years, should she not have been released from this bond on the Sabbath day?” (Lk 13:15). Do you see what happened? They had the appearance. They had their rules to which they slavishly complied. But in the end, their very compliance became violation. They had the habits, but missed the point. They honored the Sabbath, perhaps, but they neglected the greater commandment. They utterly misrepresented the God they claimed to worship, because their compliance became callousness. They were so satisfied in their own ability to heed their own rules that they could not even see the severe violations of the Law they quoted in their own actions.
I think of that one sent out to test Jesus. The Pharisees had seen how Jesus confounded the Sadducees, and while it’s not said outright, one can readily imagine them gloating just a little. Their rival sect had been shown wanting. Surely that bolstered their position all the more. So, they sent out their own lawyer. Be clear, he was sent to test Jesus. The term is translated test, but could also be translated tempt. Peirazo: It doesn’t necessarily have to have a negative intent, but it often does. Perhaps they meant to do no more than prove His character, but given the history of contention there, I think we have to conclude that what they hoped to prove was that His character was wanting, and His teaching therefore suspect and rejected (Mt 22:34-40).
So, this lawyer comes forward and asks his question: “Teacher, which is the great commandment of the Law?” Now, in general we see that what was happening in this period is that the religious authorities were seeking to catch Jesus out in something by which they could either discredit Him to the people or bring charges against Him to the Romans. If they could do both, that would be a bonus. I really don’t see how this question was going to achieve their purpose. Did they think to have put Him in the position of choosing one of the ten commandments as more critical, or more binding than the others? Even if He had, I don’t quite see the crime there. But it seems His answer manages to sidestep whatever the trap was they thought they had laid for Him. “’You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the great and foremost commandment. The second is like it, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments depend the whole Law and the Prophets.”
Honestly, the answer He gives as the first and foremost seems so obvious, I’m not sure what they thought to accomplish by the asking. Perhaps they sought to have that answer and then use it to bolster their credentials. See how we comply? But Jesus moves to the second half of the table without pause. It may well be that you manage to (at least in your own minds) love the Lord, but there’s the companion piece that cannot be neglected: Love your neighbor as yourself. There, it has been shown repeatedly, you are an utter failure. That’s where the hypocrisy really shows. You have allowed your pursuit of piety to lead you into all manner of violations against the law to love your neighbor.
Now, I have been directing this at the Pharisees, but we cannot do that except we direct it at ourselves, for we are all of us Pharisees at heart. We desire to be known as righteous. We want to be liked and respected. We don’t care too much if we’re understood, in fact, there’s a certain cachet in being, as we prefer to think, beyond comprehension. But we want respect. We want to be seen as right and righteous. We’re not all that keen on being known as sinners. After all, we’re God’s reps. We can’t be going around earning the title of sinner, can we? I note that Paul had no such concerns. “I am the chief of sinners!” It wasn’t a boast, and it wasn’t an excusing of sin. It was an admission of neediness. I, too, need a Savior. I always will. Until such time as He returns, this time without reference to sin, and takes me home, I shall know this struggle in myself, the battle of flesh and soul, the heart set on pursuing God, but the flesh still obeying the law of sin. I shall never outgrow my need for Christ, and in those moments when I convince myself I have, I but prove my need once more. May God, the Holy Spirit indwelling, bring me to this realization swiftly, even before I have yet again fooled myself into some sense of personal righteousness. May I ever be aware of my sin and my need, not as morbidly wallowing in failure, but as one whose hope is fully and firmly in and on Christ Jesus, my Lord.
