Little Things Do Mean a Lot

Maybe we can “win the world” by “losing.”

We evangelical Christians understand that we have been given the responsibility to take the gospel of salvation through faith in Christ to a lost and dying world. “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations,” Jesus said, “baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matt. 28:19). We also understand that we are to exercise a preserving and “enlightening” function. “You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned?” Jesus told us. “It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men. You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:13–16).

The problem, as this issue of Tabletalk has attempted to show, is that in recent years evangelicals have focused on achieving the worthy “end” of these God-given tasks by using less-than-worthy “means.” We have sought to reach the lost by staging massive evangelistic extravaganzas that borrow heavily from secular concerts and motivational events. Seeking wider audiences through technology, we have invested great sums of our time and treasure to venture out onto the airwaves with television programs that are virtually indistinguishable from daytime talk shows. We have made our churches as comfortable and non-threatening for pagans as possible. In myriad ways, we have accommodated ourselves to the culture, hoping that, somehow, unbelievers will see us (and our Jesus) as easygoing, winsome, and all-around fun folks.

But a disciple of Christ is fundamentally different from a person who rejects Him. Salted food tastes different. A lighted room is unlike a dark one. Yet we have given up our saltiness and hidden our lamps under baskets. We have given up the distinctiveness that Jesus said was to be a key element of our witness to the watching world.

How can we reclaim that distinctiveness? By simply obeying, by doing what God clearly says to do in His Word. Radical obedience to God will stand out.

In terms of beaming light into a dark world, one of the best areas in which to practice radical obedience may well be submission to our governments. In our day of growing lawlessness, Paul’s charge in Romans 13 is radical indeed: “Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God. Therefore whoever resists the authority resists the ordinance of God, and those who resist will bring judgment on themselves” (vv. 1–2).

Oh, sure, we’re pretty good people. Few of us commit mass murders. Rape is rare among us. Christians generally do not make their livings as armed robbers. But these are among the big no-nos, the acts that even our putrefying culture still recognizes as more heinous. Of course, as Jesus said, “Do not even the tax collectors do so?” (Matt. 5:47b). There may be more unbelievers than believers engaging in such gross deeds, but among the overall population, the percentage is still fairly small. And the world expects Christians not to do these things (although that means the damage is usually severe when one of us commits one of these sins).

But true distinctiveness emerges as we practice obedience in the “small things.” Consider: The Bible directs our behavior in many areas. One of those areas is our relationship to the government—submit, Paul says. But while that is a single command, it finds fulfillment in our acquiescence to the myriad laws that our national, state or provincial, and local governments lay down. Because of Paul’s command, we are not free to ignore any of these laws (unless they are patently unrighteous, in which case we are morally bound to seek to overturn them). But we live in an age in which unbelievers feel free to set aside any laws that cause them inconvenience. Is the government extracting so much of my income that I am unable to afford the luxuries I want? Then I am justified in accepting untraceable cash for my work, and in underreporting my income or over-reporting my deductions. Is the government’s speed limit slower than my preference? Then I am justified in driving faster. Will obedience to local water restrictions cause my lawn to be less green? Then I am free to water away.

Are we willing as Christians to scrupulously report all our income accurately, even if it means we must send the IRS a check rather than receive one? Are we willing to slow down to the speed limit (and leave earlier to reach our destination on time)? Are we willing to let our well-tended lawns go thirsty if commanded? If we do, we risk having less money for extras, suffering the humiliation of being passed by nearly every other car on the road, having a less-pristine lawn than the neighbors, and so forth. In other words, we might lose a little convenience.

But we will gain a great distinctiveness—the reputation of being law-abiders. And in God’s providence, unbelievers will see our way of living and ask questions. By radical obedience, we may finish last in the day-to-day race of life. But the kingdom will win in the long run.