STUDIES IN BIBLICAL ETHICS No. 14
June 16, 1996
Review
We have completed our consideration of the foundations of biblical ethics, the ways in
which we are taught right from wrong. We have considered in some detail the law of God and
its application to our lives, the guidance of the Holy Spirit and how that comes to us,
the example of the Lord Jesus (and by analogy the lesser example of those whose lives are
commended to us in Holy Scripture) and, finally, last time, the direction of our
conscience.
We move on now to the consideration of the virtues, the forms by which,
according to Holy Scripture, love primarily demonstrates itself in life. If the
fundamental obligations of human life are love for God and love for others, how then do
those loves manifest themselves?
It is right, certainly, to say that the virtues are simply forms or expressions of
love, for love is clearly the comprehensive virtue of the Christian life. So our Savior
taught. One older writer draws this inference also from the fact that "love" is
mentioned first in the list of the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5:22-23. He takes love
to be more than simply one fruit among the many, but the principle fruit of which the
others are various manifestations. He interpreted the remainder of the list, the qualities
that follow "love," this way: "joy is love singing; peace is love resting;
patience is love enduring; kindness is love's self-forgetfulness; goodness is love's
character; faithfulness is love's habit; gentleness is love's true touch; self-control is
love holding the reins."
Among the virtues, then, we are speaking of all those traits or characteristics
of godliness and right living that the Scripture identifies. These include both what Prof.
David Jones calls "the primary forms of love," taking a cue from the Lord's
remark about the weightier matters of the law, which are, Jesus said, justice, mercy,
and faithfulness, and, as well, the specific personal virtues that are enumerated in
many places and in many ways all through Holy Scripture. I gave a series of evening
studies on these virtues over nine Sunday evenings between January and April of 1989. As
part of that series we considered temperance, courage, chastity, zeal, modesty,
generosity, honesty, tolerance, and love.
From time to time it is necessary for ministers to acknowledge their errors. I am not
speaking of errors of life, we haven't the time, believe me, for me to acknowledge those.
I am speaking now, rather, of errors in teaching. "In many words there is sin,"
the Scripture says and certainly when one is interpreting the Bible to the same
congregation for hours on end, he will certainly come to feel eventually that in one way
or another he has mistaken or not done adequate justice to some text or theme in the
Bible. No doubt I should see more such inadequacies, if not positive mistakes, in my
teaching than I do. But, I see this one clearly enough and this is the time to acknowledge
it. What follows now is a retraction, what I consider to be an error in the way in which I
taught the virtues in that series years ago. [I am in good company! Augustine's, Retractiones.
Bill McColley's "retraction" on the Sabbath!]
In that series, in the consideration of each of the virtues that we studied, I argued
that the biblical presentation of that virtue required us to see each virtue -- courage,
chastity, temperance, honesty, and the like -- as a golden mean between two
extremes. A balance between sins and obligations on either side. I have come to think that
this is not an accurate or helpful way to state the Bible's perspective on virtue. You
have heard me often enough on the fact that the Bible teaches many subjects dialectically.
That it tends to present the opposite poles of a truth, each without qualification or
mitigation, leaving those poles in tension with one another, refusing to resolve that
tension. This is true about theological matters, such as divine sovereignty and human
freedom. It is true about anthropological matters such as the equality of the sexes before
God and the distinction of roles and subordination of women to men in family and church.
It is also true about ethical matters, I have used the matter of cosmetics and perfumes
and feminine beauty as an example in the past, concerning which some passages seem to
forbid such attentions and interests and others unabashedly to celebrate them. And this
dialectical approach to the revelation of the truth is also used in respect to the
virtues.
My mistake, it seems to me, was in the term and the idea of a golden mean, as if, in
fact, this tension was resolved in the exact center of any particular truth presented in
the Bible. "Golden Mean" suggests a position that is composed of half of one
side and half of the other, a kind of balance between the two, an average, if you will.
No, as Charles Simeon put it, the truth lies not in the middle or in either extreme, but
in both extremes.
I shouldn't have urged you to think of the virtues in terms of a golden mean. I want
you to think of them rather in terms of the opposite extremes. For example:
1. Temperance (or moderation, or self-control, or sobriety) is not a virtue
located half-way between, for example, the proper enjoyment of good food and drink, on the
one hand, and drunkenness and gluttony, on the other. Temperance is not a way of life in
which God's good gifts are partly or moderately enjoyed and we enjoy up to but not beyond
what would constitute gluttony. Yet "golden mean" implies some kind of middle
between these two extremes. But temperance of the Christian type is not some mild and
harmless middle between too little enjoyment and too much, just the right amount of
enjoyment, as it were. It is full and complete enjoyment and it is the full
subjection of the body's desires to the law of God and the requirement of purity.
Temperance lies not between the two extremes but in both the extremes. I told you
years ago that we belong in the middle. No! We don't belong in the middle, we belong at
one and the same time at both extremes of the continuum of virtue: full enjoyment and
absolute self-control.
2. Courage is not a virtue located half-way between such fortitude as will brook
no obstacle in its pursuit of what is right and pleasing to God, even to the laying down
of one's life, and that prudence that Scripture commends by which danger is wisely
avoided. It is both of those things in full measure all the time.
3. Chastity is not a virtue located half-way between abstinence from unlawful
sex and sexual faithfulness to one's spouse; it is both of those things to a complete
degree: full eroticism within marriage and total abstinence from it outside of it. That is
biblical chastity.
4. Generosity, once again, is not a virtue located half-way between stinginess
and considering one's property to be the property of everyone else. It is a full practice
of biblical stewardship and responsibility with what God has entrusted to every Christian,
and, at the same time, a cheerful abandon in the using of one's property for the sake of
others.
As we said weeks ago with questions of the application of the law of God to the many
specific ethical questions of daily life, so we can see clearly also with regard to the
virtues. Motive and intention mean so much. The man who wishes to be brave as a
Christian should be, who cares to be chaste as Christ would have him, who hungers and
thirsts to be generous in view of God's mercy to him, is the one who is going to know what
any particular situation calls for: the enjoyment of food or fasting; the giving full
reign to the erotic impulse or abstinence; standing fast even at risk of one's life or
taking flight; building one's saving account or handing over one's only shirt.
Now, the importance of considering the virtues in a discussion of biblical ethics is
precisely this. Biblical godliness is not simply a matter of isolated acts done in
obedience to God. It is rather a way of life, a pattern of life, a practice that reflects
the character and manner of God himself. This is why, in Holy Scripture, specific acts,
ethical decisions, are always taken up into higher states and commitments of the soul that
are specifically Christian and theological. The virtues are always linked to the motives
and intentions of the heart and are always seen to be the manifestations of the true
spiritual condition of the heart. Don't think this is a small matter. This was the fateful
error of the Pharisees, who, over time, began to think of righteousness less and less as
the way of life produced by gratitude to God and more and more of individual acts of
obedience, one after another, sin becoming no longer a spiritual rebellion against God but
simply the violation of specific rules. These rules, over time, were then arranged in
gradations making possible a concentration on the avoidance of serious sins and the
transformation of sin into something innocuous and grace into mere divine leniency was
complete. And this is the way most people who would call themselves Christians think about
life and about salvation today.
They do not think of courage, temperance, chastity, humility, faithfulness,
peaceableness, and so on, as expressions of love for and loyalty to God, as ways of
manifesting Christ's spirit and character in your own. They do not see their behavior Christocentrically
or doxologically and do not look to the Lord for it, as so much the reverse of their
native self-absorption and rebellion against God as to be impossible apart from divine
grace. And, they do not see these virtues as simply splendid sins unless they
are as much the expressions of the true desires and thoughts of the heart as outward
behavior and actions.
After all, the virtues are commended by the world as well as by the Word of God. But,
because they do not have this Christian base and impulse, because they are not the
expression of fundamental commitments of the heart to God and to Christ, the world's
virtues are not the same as Christian virtues at all. Homer's The Odyssey is
nothing if it is not about virtue, the gaining of it, the practicing of it and the losing
of it. But it is not Christian virtue that Homer teaches; the courage of the Kamikaze
pilot is not the same courage taught in the Bible, and the zeal of the American business
ladder-climber is not the zeal of the defender of the name of the Lord of Hosts.
When Jesus, for example, says that the weightier matters of the law are justice, mercy,
and faithfulness, he speaks of things that are not acts in themselves, but more
fundamental than that: ways of life, patterns of behavior; commitments of the heart,
spiritual tastes and longings that lead to specific acts more than the individual acts
themselves. In the Bible individual acts of righteousness are the product of the spiritual
and moral impulses of the heart and without those even acts that are formally or
technically virtuous are in fact corrupt, displeasing to God, and lacking the power of
true virtue.
We've already seen at some length, in our consideration of the law of God, that it is
the desire, the commitment, the hunger to be holy, to do that which pleases God, to fulfil
the law, to keep the commandments that best directs a person into ethical living. This
state of mind and heart is more important than the quality of ethical reasoning. In the
Bible great stress is laid upon the motive of the heart, because the man or woman who
genuinely hungers and thirsts to do right for God's sake is the man or woman who will see
the right and do it, find the true application of God's law in his circumstances. Newton
again, "love is the best casuist."
Now, I want to ring the changes one more time on this point this evening. Fundamental
to an ethical life according to the bible is a virtuous life, that is, specific acts of
righteousness, correct decisions in the face of ethical choices depend, in large part, on
a virtuous character. We need generous men more than we need right thinking about
particular cases of conscience in regard to charity toward the needy. We need courageous
men more than we need essays delineating the fine distinctions that separate occasions of
martyrdom from occasions of flight.
But more than generous women or courageous men we particularly need humble
Christian people, because humility is the foundation of all the virtues and an active
ingredient in all of them. It may seem strange, at first, to say that humility is the
ground of courage, chastity, temperance, and the like. But it is precisely for this
reason, without humility these virtues cannot be the expression of any Christlikeness or
genuinely Christian goodness. A vain courage may be possible, a vain temperance, but not
theological courage, not Christian courage. [Winston Churchill's courage in combat in Cuba
and his writing home to tell his mother of his hopes of getting a medal and wearing it at
some party when he gets home. This is not the path of ethical living of a Christian type,
not the character to lead us to the will of God.]
Given its fundamental place in biblical virtue perhaps it is not surprising, after all,
that humility did not appear on any list of virtues in the classical philosophical
tradition. It has apparently largely disappeared again from secular theories of virtue and
ethics. Mr. Hannula tells me that, in his experience, public high school students, as a
rule, think humility is a bad thing, another way of saying humiliation.
But true humility, that proper sense of oneself as a creature and as a sinner before a
holy God and before other sinners, that honest reckoning with the truth about oneself and
that determination to live in the recognition of the grace and mercy that has been
extended to you and to extend, as a principle of honor, that same mercy to others that God
has shown you, that cheerful recognition of God's right to rule your life and willing
submission of yourself to that rule -- I say that humility -- which is what the
Bible means by humility -- is not a bad thing, it is a good thing, a very good thing,
close to being the best thing that is ever found in the heart and life of human being.
Humility, after all, is just honesty about oneself in relation to God and others and a
determination to live in the recognition and practice of that truth. As William Law
reminded us: "Humility does not consist in having a worse opinion of ourselves than
we deserve."
And, despite all of its bad press, despite people's constant confusion of true humility
with its spurious imitations and corruptions -- gloominess, a servile subjection of
oneself to everyone else, constant and morbid self-criticism and self-accusation, an
inability to rejoice over and rest in the grace and forgiveness and acceptance of God -- I
say, true humility is a most healthy, invigorating, fruitful virtue, spreading its cheer
in every part of one's life.
As C.S. Lewis put it: "Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will
be what most people call 'humble' nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, swarmy person
who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about
him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you
said to him....He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking
about himself at all."
[Mere Christianity, 114]
In a very simple way, humility opens the way to a truly ethical life, because it frees
up a person to think clearly and wisely about right and wrong without every matter clouded
over with powerful considerations of self-interest.
In his wonderful book, The Life of God in the Soul of Man (a book that was
instrumental in the conversion of George Whitefield) Henry Scougal discusses how humility
actually leads to happiness and not to misery as the world suspects it must [pp. 80-81]:
...a proud and arrogant person is a trouble to all that converse with him, but most of
all unto himself: everything is enough to vex him; but scarce any thing sufficient to
content and please him. He is ready to quarrel with every thing that falls out; as if he
himself were such a considerable person that God Almighty should do every thing to gratify
him, and all the creatures of heaven and earth should wait upon him, and obey his will.
The vain, self-centered man cannot, in the matter of his behavior, in the matter of
ethics, separate himself and his own worship and pleasure from his duty, he loves himself
too much to love God enough to follow his will come wind, come weather, and so he is
always finding his reasons not to do what God has said, always finds dark and doubtful
what in the Bible is plain as the noonday sun. His ethical reasoning is clouded by his
character! Humility wipes the window clean!
Let's take a particular ethical example. What are we to do when we feel that we have
been treated or spoken of unfairly or dishonestly? Paul himself sometimes defends himself
at length against the attacks of others (2 Cor. 11), but at other times he did not and
Jesus, on several occasions reported in the Gospels, didn't reply to his accusers, though
they were cruelly lying about him in circumstances calculated to do him the worst possible
harm.
But this is a question very much easier to answer correctly in a spirit of true
humility than otherwise. Then it is much easier to see that Paul spoke up for himself and
his ministry when the attacks made against it were attacks on the Gospel and the Lord
himself and that he kept his peace when only his own personal reputation was at stake.
Defending oneself takes its virtue from pride and a sense that it is a high crime to
criticize such as yourself. Humility says, cheerfully, with St. Teresa, "I am always
very glad that my slanderers should tell a trifling lie about me rather than the whole
terrible truth." Humility says, cheerfully with Charles Simeon, "In drawing the
balance, as between debtor and creditor, I find that if I have been robbed of pence, there
are pounds and talents placed to my account to which I have no just title." Or, in
other words, the Lord has covered for me far greater sins than this that I have been
accused of and to defend myself at this point, to consider my name as too worthy to allow
to be sullied, smacks of an unwillingness to acknowledge the full extent of my sinfulness,
which would amount to a minimizing of Christ's grace and mercy to me, which I cannot do.
Or take a case of social ethics. Euthanasia seems suddenly unattractive and ethically
impossible to a humble man who is acutely conscious of the vastness of the difference
between God and man and, therefore, the appalling hubris, the bizarre type of arrogance
that would lead a man to presume to fill God's shoes. And take a human life.
Or consider H.H. Kuyper, the son of Abraham Kuyper, during the Nazi occupation of the
Netherlands. Kuyper was the editor of the magazine The Herald, which, up to the
time of the German occupation of Holland had been stalwart in its condemnation of the Nazi
regime and in calling upon the Dutch to resist at all cost. But, once the occupation
had begun, when other magazines were being closed and other editors, such as Klaas
Schilder thrown in prison for expressing the very views The Herald itself had
expressed but weeks before, Kuyper began singing a different tune. Now The Herald
began to warn against the impulse to "seek martyrdom," urging the editors of
church papers to exercise caution, he began to criticize those who resisted the Nazis or
fled the country, and fell silent in its criticism of the German invaders and their
program.
"There is good reason," Kuyper wrote, "to issue this warning [about
keeping silent], for otherwise our churches may get themselves into trouble needlessly.
This applies especially to the servant of the Word. If, through careless words or actions,
he should give occasion for the imposition of punitive measures, not only he but also the
congregation he serves would be affected. The flock would be deprived of its
shepherd."
He would quote Matthew 10:16, about Christians being shrewd as snakes and innocent as
doves to justify a situation in which The Herald was virtually the only religious
paper that the Nazi regime continued to allow to be published throughout the war. Was it
ethical reasoning that was primarily at fault here, or was it really simply a defect of
character, cowardice in the face of an oppressor?
Do you see how the spirit one brings to the question, the virtue of his or her heart
and life, will lay bare in so many cases the path of true goodness and righteousness?
But, here, of course, is the rub, isn't it? It is one thing to write a book about
ethics, or preach a sermon series on ethics, or to have long discussions about ethical
issues. Many of these questions -- from lying to the Nazis to euthanasia -- are intensely
interesting and controversial. It can be highly absorbing to attempt to work out an
ethical theory. Many have spent long hours doing just that in human history, many able and
earnest people. The Pharisees were just one group of such people.
It is another thing entirely to accept that when all of that theorizing and discussing
has been accomplished, true ethical living, true righteousness such as God desires,
demands, and rewards, requires not nearly so much a clearly articulated philosophy of
ethics as it requires true virtue and true virtue does not require knowledge nearly so
much as it requires humility, which every true Christian who has ever sought it knows is
the most painful of all the characteristics of Jesus to put on oneself, the most wearying
to pursue, the most difficult to keep when once one has some little grasp and sense of it.
Let me finish with an historical anecdote as an example of what I mean by placing
virtue above and before ethical reasoning, even the best and most biblical of such
reasoning.
Many of you remember the interesting and moving piece of history from the Revolutionary
War and the betrayal of Benedict Arnold. The English officer who was Arnold's contact in
his plan to turn over West Point to the British was a Major by the name of John Andre.
Arnold's treason was uncovered when Andre was captured and dispatches from Arnold to the
British were discovered in his boot. Andre was a spy and by all the conventions and ethics
of war, under which both armies existed, he was to be executed. The problem was that Andre
was a fine man, a particularly fine man, and his character made an immediate impression on
the American officers who were responsible to put him to death. He was honest, honorable,
cheerful, full of good will toward other men, even his enemies. Washington himself, it is
said, was deeply moved and troubled by the prospect of executing such a good man who,
after all, was doing nothing but his duty, doing nothing but what American officers were
as well sent to do in the prosecution of that war.
What was to be done? Do you remember now what was done? I will tell you that ethical
reasoning was not what was, at last, needed in that situation. What was needed was men of
character and virtue. Life will not be easy for such men, but the way of righteousness
will stretch out before them, clearer, sharper than most men can see it. Men of courage,
faithfulness, justice, humility, and mercy. And, I suspect they did what God expected them
to do, and, as I remember the history, each respected and honored the other to the end.
John Andre was executed with tears!

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