During my young “student years,” or as Russ Limbaugh would say young mind full of mush, I was never privileged to sit under a teacher or
professor who’s charge was to instruct ethics. During my later
years while preparing for the chaplaincy I was privileged to sit for two weeks,
in a workshop, at the Basic Bioethics
Institute, under an advisor for whom Christian ethics and its application
were a vibrant passion. With his careful drawl and smiling eyes, this
professor slowly and gladly brought me to an understanding of ethics that would
never allow me to leave it, as I might have left a stuffy, uninteresting
class. I have determined that Ethics, for me as a Christian, is no more
optional than the scriptures that tell me who I am. In Allen Verhey, Remembering Jesus: Christian Community,
Scripture, and the Moral Life, he writes, "There is no Christian life
that is not shaped somehow by Scripture. There is no Christian moral
discernment that is not tied somehow to Scripture. There is no Christian
ethic—no Christian medical ethic or sexual ethic or economic ethic or political
ethic—that is not formed and informed somehow by Scripture."
Working only less than often how- a- day, but most often, ministering to the Baby Boomer crowd since the late 1990’s, one of the comments that I hear most often as a reason for rejecting Christianity is that of its followers: "Christians are so hypocritical!" "The problem I have with Christ is that his followers do him more harm than good." "I am continually disappointed by Christians; why should I consider their religion?" "The problem I have with Christianity is Christians." My conclusion is: I can try appealing to these folks to see the gap in their logic; I can try reasoning that the abuse of a religion must never stand in the way of getting at the truth of a religion. But many have not, will not, I think never will be swayed. As I think back, I remember leaving so many of these conversations saddened not merely because the obstacles seem immovable, but because I fully understood and still do the grievance. The letter of recommendation written upon the countenance of many professing Christians is far too often a message that deters.
Like ethics, the Christian’s argument is a daily activity writ large upon the life of Christians and churches whether they realize it or not. My world hears clearly my message with or without words. Whether it be having coffee and conversation, dinner at home or out, in an automobile accident, building a piece of furniture, or throwing waste in the dumpster. I go about life confessing, commending, defending, and living the gospel, showing the world an ethic and a religion whether I speak of these things or not. Both disciplines are thus inherently Christian activities, disciplines that must take seriously the responsibility the identity imparts. I would like to think, as a Christian, am a person of the Book, commanded to remember the movement of God in history, the nearness of the Spirit today, and the promise of Christ's return in every word he speaks, in every thing I do.
In the midst of this great reality, I need not live as one who holds every answer, but as one who lives with the confidence that is mine through Christ before God, as I grow further into my conversions and the abundant life Christ describes. In this, I believe that both the world and the Church is benefited when I learn to see my own conversions as a process, salvation as more than a ticket to heaven, and faith as something deeper than sheer preference or unquestionable certainty, because this will likewise help me see that reaching my neighbors is a lifelong activity. Then I add what John Stackhouse argues in his writing of Humble Apologetics: Defending the Faith Today, that it is imperative for the apologist and the ethicist to take with them the right questions. Instead of evangelicalism's favorite foci—Is he saved? Does she have a personal relationship with Christ? Or, what must I do to convert them?—a far better question was entertained by the one the believer follows: Who shall I say is my neighbor? At this question Jesus recounted a story that left everyone asking appropriately, if the world is filled with my neighbors, how then shall I live?
Father God, I thank You for the discovery that I am able to live an apologetic life that reflects the inherently Christ-like response to that question. Now by intentionally reminding myself of the fact, may I do so with love, with grace, with truth and humility? Perhaps I will find the distance between now and the end of this life converging, bridged by the glory of the one who rose from the grave.
