Comparison ≠ Competency

“I may not be perfect, but at least I’m not as bad as .”

Comparison. It’s how we determine whether or not we are a “good” Christian. Let’s start there. What is a “good” Christian?

It’s really an interesting question. I’ve got my list of what makes a good Christian, and you’ve got yours. But what does God say? First of all, He says, “There is none good; no, not one.” The very first step in becoming a Christian is confessing that we are not good. We are indeed sinners, and we stand in need of a Savior.

So having become believers in Christ, are we then in a position to boast of our own goodness, in comparison with others who are less good, and in comparison to other brothers or sisters in Christ, no less? Hardly. No, the confession of the believer is not in his or her own goodness, but rather in the goodness of Christ. He is our boast. This life of grace through faith is “not of works, lest any man should boast.” 

This goodness of Christ is at least two-fold. First, He is, was, and always will be, perfectly good. He never sinned. He is never at cross-purposes with the Father. He is always perfectly consistent with the Divine essence. He defines goodness.

But He also expresses goodness. That is, we don’t find goodness only in Him, but also from Him, and in relation to Him. He is good to us, in all of His offices and functions; as Prophet (Word), Priest (Sacrifice), and King.

So if we return to our title, “Comparison ≠ Competency;” and our question: “What is a ‘good’ Christian?”, we might say this: A good Christian is one who points away from himself, rejecting comparisons with others, and points instead to Christ, who is the only worthy object of our admiration and adoration. It is then that we are functioning appropriately, as sinners saved by grace. Even then, it is not so much a function of our goodness, but rather the grateful redeemed showing deference to the holy Redeemer. We pray that we may begin to do this instinctively, rather than having to be corrected time and again.

The Pharisee in the temple prayed, “Thank you that I’m not like that guy over there.” But let us pray, “Lord, help me to be refashioned more like You.”

Gratification ≠ Grace

As followers of Jesus, we stand in grace. We walk in grace. We rest in grace. We live by grace, and, at our last day on this earth, we will lie down in grace. In terms of our redemption, it is all of grace. Any hint of merit or self-sufficiency is incompatible with that which we have received freely, by grace.

But we must admit that, in our daily lives, we often do resort to merit and self-sufficiency. I cannot attribute that earlier outburst of anger to grace. That indulgence in selfishness was not from grace. There is another word for it, and it might sound something like it. It is the word, “gratification.”

Latin has a word “gratis.” I suppose that both “grace” and “gratification” come from that root. But my point is that, though “grace” and “gratification” may come from the same Latin root, they do not come from the same source. “Grace,” as we have been speaking of it, comes from God. God is the Great Giver of Grace; the never-ceasing source of grace; the only repository of pure and holy grace. “Gratification,” on the other hand, comes from me; from you. We offer it to ourselves.

“Today is a special day.” “This is a special situation.” “I deserve this.” For just this moment, “I can excuse myself” for stepping off the path of grace, and riding the roller-coaster of gratification. It offers a momentary escape, or amusement, or thrill, that I deserve. 

Do you catch the anomaly? We ever opt for something other than grace because we deserve it, - but, by definition, grace is not deserved, it is freely given. And when we excuse ourselves, we step aside from grace, because it is God alone who is able, by grace, to excuse us, and not we ourselves.

The old song begins, “Grace, grace; God’s grace…” Grace is from God. We cannot attribute gratification to God, but to ourselves, which is why we call it self-gratification, a very different thing, and a very serious departure.

Three Sardonic Stories

Jesus often spoke in parables, presenting truths in story form so that we might be more likely to listen and think. These can be blunt truths, almost sardonic. Notice these three.

A farmer’s land was productive.Why? Perhaps it had a little to do with farming practices and human industry. Certainly it had much to do with the Creator’s goodness who sends rain on both the wicked and the righteous. The profits and purchases from his produce fill many barns. And then, after another banner year, he tears down his big barns to build even bigger. He is condemned by Jesus, for in focusing on his material possessions, he has forgotten to care for his soul.

Who would do that? How could anyone be so stupid as to get so involved with temporal possessions that he would neglect his eternal soul? Well, that question illustrates the meaning of “sardonic.”

A rich man loads his table daily with sumptuous foods.What is left is tossed out the back gate to be consumed by dogs and beggars. One beggar, Lazarus, dies. Well, so does the rich man. From the heat of Sheol, the rich man directs Abraham to send the beggar to cool his tongue with a drink of water. Abraham says, “It doesn’t work that way.”

What kind of rich man thinks he can run the world, even from the pit of hell? Who, from the realm of death, has enough dollars to direct Abraham, rich in faith, dwelling now in the land of the forever living? Or what man would think that he can lord it over the poor, even when eternally enslaved in the throes of divine punishment? Who would do that? Sardonic.

Two men went up to the temple to pray.One, with fanfare and fatuity, prays, “I, I, I, I.” “Thank you that I’m better than others.” Who would do that? Who would dare enter God’s presence with such pride and presumption? The other man, in the shadows, prays quietly with head bowed, “God be merciful to me, the sinner.” One of these two went home justified.

I’ll ask you, sardonically, can you guess which one?

Empty-Handed

When David thirsted for water from the well near the gate in Bethlehem (2 Samuel 23), three of his mighty men went on a quest, despite the fact that the town had been overrun by their enemies, the Philistines. With joy and pride they must have returned, victorious, with water for their Captain and King.

And so, in Jesus’ parable (Luke 20:9-18), when the owner of the vineyard sends a servant, and then another, and then another, to bring back a taste of the fruit of his possession - with sorrow and shame they returned, since they came back empty-handed, if indeed they came back at all. One had been beaten; another humiliated, another thrown out and wounded.

As creatures of the Creator; and, further, as servants of the Redeemer, we want to place in the hands of our Captain and King, our Savior and Friend, that which rightfully belongs to him. But like the servants in the parable, can we not at times be stymied in our attempts to return favor to the Lord?

As the story goes, not only do the servants appear to strike out, empty-handed, but so does the son, sent by the father to accomplish what the servants could not. But they kill the son, and then the parable ends. The parable ends, but story does not, for we know that the son in the story is the Son of God, and that He rises from the dead, and is able to bring in hand to the Father both persons and property: all that is His.

And again, as the story unfolds, those who end up empty-handed are those renters of the vineyard who had sought to usurp ownership and honor. They are cast out - empty-handed.

Those in this world’s with “full hands” seem to be the bold and beautiful; the great and greedy. The contents of their hands continue to fill their own coffers, unaware that, at judgment, all will be returned to its rightful place. So, humble servants, despite setbacks, do not lose heart. Though the Son has been killed, He is alive, and His hands are full.