Let’s just be honest for a second. With the exceptions of Christianity’s ethics toward sex, money, and power (which I understand are pretty big things), Christian ethics look a lot like secular ethics. In fact, secular ethics borrow much of their ethics from Christianity. The 10 Commandments is a prime example. Everyone seems to inherently understand that stealing is wrong, murdering is wrong, false witness is wrong, and sleeping with someone else’s spouse is wrong—even for the most seasoned relativist.
However, the motivations that lie at the bottom of Christian ethics and secular ethics could not be more different.
In fact, the motivations behind Christian ethics even differ from every single other world religion, too. On the surface, each ethical system—secular or religious—calls forth similar external behavior, but Christianity makes a case that only it can deliver the best type of ‘external’ behavior, because only it starts with a radically different set of ‘internal’ motivations to cause such a type of behavior after all.
So, what is this motivation, and why is it even important?
Author and theologian, J. I. Packer, brilliantly explains the power of biblical motivation, and what sets it apart from every other world religion or ethical system. Check out what he has to say:
The secular world never understands Christian motivation. Faced with the question of what makes Christians tick, unbelievers maintain that Christianity is practiced only out of self-serving purposes. They see Christians as fearing the consequences of not being Christians (religion as fire insurance), or feeling the need of help and support to achieve their goals (religion as crutch), or wishing to sustain a social identity (religion as a badge of respectability). No doubt all these motivations can be found among the membership of churches: it would be futile to dispute that. But . . . a self-seeking motivation brought into the church is not thereby made Christian, nor will holiness ever be the right name for religious routines thus motivated. From the plan of salvation I learn that the true driving force in authentic Christian living is, and ever must be, not the hope of gain but the heart of gratitude.[1]
In a nutshell, the distinctive factor that sets Christian ethics apart from every other secular or religious system is that its motives starts as a response to what has already been gained—not a response to gain.
Do you do good deeds to gain reward from God or do you do good deeds for God because you’re grateful that in Christ God has given you everything that you could ever want or need by His grace, and that there is nothing left to be gained by your works?
In fact, when we think that there is more love, acceptance, and approval to be gained by our good works, we are essentially implying that Jesus’ work on the cross for us was lacking, and that we must or can even add to that.
For one, we can’t even add to Jesus’ work for us to gain God’s love and forgiveness and approval. If we think we can, we are overestimating how sinful we are and how holy he is. Besides, can an inherently sinful person strive in his naturally unholy ways to present God with a holiness on par with Jesus’ holy work, who was inherently holy, as a way to add to Jesus’ work for us? No, of course not. It’s logically inconceivable and functionally impossible.
Here are some critical implications of the belief that we think we can earn God’s blessing, love, approval, and acceptance by our works. If our motive is fundamentally to gain, then the result of our works will be either despair or pride. If you end up morally succeeding, then you inevitably become prideful because you can only credit yourself for earning God’s approval. However, if you end up morally failing, then you inevitably despair because you can only blame yourself for failing to earn God’s approval. So what are the moral byproducts of such a moral spectrum? Pride and despair. Seems like a moral dead end to me.
So, regardless, morally speaking, you are all the way back to square one. And let’s be reassess the situation as it is—are self-righteous pride and self-loathing despair the best sources of motivation to constantly refuel and strengthen your moral endeavors anyways? No, of course not. If anything, they will just exhaust you. And in the process of your exhaustion, it is likely that you will inevitably resort to do three things. In fact, I have witnessed this in the church—and in my own life—more than I would ever like to confess. Here’s what you will do if you are exhausted morally:
- You will lower the demand and the law, cheapening the requirements of goodness, so that you can feel better about yourself. I’m not that bad after all, right?
- You will give yourself cheap grace, continually sweeping sin under the rug and trying to maintain the appearance of goodness. I’m pretty good after all, right?
- You will actually believe something else. You can’t live according to your beliefs, so you change them in order to alleviate your stress over the issue. As long as I’m a good person, it doesn’t matter what I believe, right?
In other words, an ethical system from secular society or other religions motivates ethical living by the whip and spur of fear, guilt, pride, or self-preservation. All these start and end with the individual.
But the motivations at the heart of Christian ethics are radically different, as J.I. Packer explains. Instead of starting with the individual, it starts with God. Before we could even think about doing good works for gain, God gives us everything that we could never have earned, even if we had infinite lifetimes to try to earn it.
While we were at our absolute worst, being enemies of God, being in direct rebellion against him, and living for ourselves and under our own lordship—God gave up everything he had to save us from our own destruction, took our penalty of sin into himself, and died in our place. And even while we were at our absolute best, trying to be friends of God, trying to live in direct adoration of Him, living for his approval and lordship—our efforts are too stained with selfishness and are too unholy, so God died for our sins and offers the perfect righteousness we need for salvation through Christ.
Before we could do anything for God, Christ did it all for God, for us. Now it’s our turn—so is there anything left to do? No. Jesus claimed, “It is finished.” All the work for salvation is completed, and His righteousness is offered to you. In Christ’s righteousness, you have perfect fellowship, approval, acceptance, and love from God the Father. You can’t add to it.
There’s nothing left to be gained, for you have gained it all in Christ. So, now you live motivated with a supernaturally huge amount of gratefulness, humility, and confidence in God’s love.
Remember how the motivations from other ethical systems end in either pride or despair when they start with the effort to gain? Well now let’s see what happens when we start with gratefulness and humility for the fact that we have gained everything in Christ. So you succeed morally? Fantastic, and praise the Lord, for he’s worth living for, right? So you fail morally? Get back up, and praise the Lord, for he’s forgiven you already, right? The gospel doesn’t allow you to boast in your goodness and doesn’t allow you to despair in your badness; instead it motivates by gratefulness, humility, and confidence and produces exactly what it promises: righteousness. Because Christ gave you his righteousness, you inevitably become functionally for God what you already are positionally before God: righteous. You become in practice what you already are in position: righteous.
And what about long term progress? You won’t grow exhausted. Rather, you will grow encouraged, even in your shortcomings. And you will get better morally, too. Ironically, though, you won’t even know you are getting better because your focus will not be on your improvement, but will be on your great Savior. In fact, the paradox of Christianity is this: if you work on your improvement and not Christ, you won’t really get either. But if you seek Jesus as your ultimate ends, you will find great improvement along the way. Indeed, when you stop naval-gazing morally, you will only then become more attuned to others’ needs instead of your own, and your Savior’s glory and kingdom more than your own.
All in all, Christian motivations are important. They start with God, and end with God, and in the process we are swept away in a glory that transforms us more and more into the person of Jesus, who is the ultimate example of morality after all.
Therefore, don’t get caught up in the DO of Christianity. Get caught up in the DONE. And meanwhile, I think you’ll find the ‘DO’ a lot easier, more enjoyable, and more motivating than before.
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Here’s another blog of mine on motivations: https://gospelfocus289.wordpress.com/2014/01/10/extravagant-motivations-come-from-our-extravagant-god/
[1] J. I. Packer, Rediscovering Holiness (Ann Arbor, Mich: Servant Press, 1992), 75.
