Less about me

Humbled.  A word I will use to describe what happens to my heart when God graciously shows how merciful and perfect He is in spite of how inconsistent and self-focused I am.  Humbled and sad.  Humbled and hopeful.  Humbled and all sorts of emotions in between.  But in this moment, humbled and really, really, grateful.   

In my life, righteousness has always meant being good- at least on the outside.  It meant keeping up appearances, focusing on my own sense of moral purity and personal piety.  If I was consistent in my quiet time, attending small group, saying the right things in prayer, reading all of the right books, and for the most part staying away from those big sins that less-good people committed, then I was righteous.  With more shame than I can say, righteousness as I thought of it tended to always accompany a sense of comparison, because if I did not actually feel better than someone else, in my mind, I wasn’t better.  I did not have to be perfect, that I knew, because God doesn’t expect that.  I just had to be better than others, because Jesus liked “better” people. 

It turns out He actually doesn’t.

This image of the good person I held securely in my hands is slowly being stripped away.  Because good always meant that someone else liked me, affirmed that I was gifted at something, or admired something I had said or done.  And let’s be honest, it is nice to feel good, affirmed, or even admired.  In some ways it is motivating and makes us carry our heads a bit higher if just for a few moments.  But what I think I have done is make Jesus the king of my personal self-improvement, the one who makes me good.  And in one sentence I can go from believing I am close to getting it to walking dangerously in the footsteps of the Pharisees, claiming a reliance on God when in all reality I’m only doing so because it is making me feel pretty dang elevated in front of everyone else. 

When God talks about righteousness, He almost always uses it in parallel language with justice.  Thirty-four times, actually.  Amos 5:24: I want to see a mighty flood of justice, and endless flowing of righteous living.  Job 37:23: The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power.  In his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress.  Psalm 103:6: The Lord works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed.  Isaiah 5:16: The Lord Almighty will be exalted by his justice, and the holy God will show himself holy by his righteousness.  The righteousness of God is virtually synonymous with his justice.  Always right, always fair. 

In my life, I have made these things very, very separate.  Righteousness was how good I am, justice was some outward thing I do for brownie points.  Righteousness was my ticket to Heaven, justice was something only certain people are called to do.  But our God was known by his justice, and if I so deeply want to know Him, that is probably where I should start. 

Jesus was not afraid to get angry at people who, like me, had easily mistaken righteousness for something entirely about them.  He called them hypocrites, liars, and in disgust he compared them to snakes.  “You tithe mint and dill and cumin, but ignore the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness.  These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others.”  So righteousness comes after I act justly, not instead of it.  Justice is a response to Jesus’s life and the example He left, righteousness is the result.  That changes so, so much.

What if my first thought upon waking up in the morning was not about me?  What if I stopped thinking so much about what I can do to look holy, and began simply living justly?  Would that not accomplish the same end?  What if living in harmony with my neighbor instead of being annoyed at how she parks her car actually meant as much as reading a few Proverbs for the day?  What if treating everyone the same really honored God as much as the money I give somewhat-sacrificially?  What if actually mending relationships meant as much to me as crafting the right sentences to describe them?  I can have all the knowledge necessary, but if I lack the same compassion Jesus had, I am empty of every meaningful thing in the world.  Unless I am compelled to act on behalf of another human being, my efforts at righteousness will end there, at the effort.  

I think we have a tendency to complicate the really simple command to “love your neighbor as you love yourself.”  Everyone is our neighbor. And loving is different than tolerating- it is fair, it is honoring.  Act with justice.  Live with righteousness.  Know Jesus.  And nothing makes more sense of the world than that.       

 “Being a Christian is less about cautiously avoiding sin than courageously and actively doing God’s will.”  

-Dietrich Bonheoffer