All Christians are hypocrites. It’s
something I’ve said before, but it’s worth repeating. John Wesley thought he’d
met a single person who’d attained Christian perfection, but even the
possibility of such a thing is fiercely debated. Apart (perhaps) from that individual
though, there’s not a one who doesn’t fall short of the standards they claim
everyone else ought to follow.
The main problem is partially the
impossibly high standard to which we are held. ‘Be perfect, as your Father in
Heaven is perfect’. Well, I mean, really! What sort of chance do we have?
The other problem, I would like to
suggest, is that our technology and society have moved on somewhat from the
time when our rules were laid down. I’m not suggesting any sort of
chronological snobbery, or that just because the rules are ancient that they
must therefore be wrong. On the other hand I’m no literalist, and just because
they’re old doesn’t automatically mean they’re right either. They need to be
considered and accepted or rejected on their own merit, not just because
someone else, a long time ago, found them acceptable for inclusion.
That’s by the by. My point is that we
have whole new wonderful ways of sinning nowadays that were simply unavailable
to the transgressors and wrongdoers of bygone eras. I’m not saying there are
new sins, merely new ways of committing the old classics.
I’m particularly thinking at the moment
about anger. “But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister
will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister,
‘Raca,’ is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in
danger of the fire of hell.”
Well, fair enough, but I would merely
point out that Jesus never had to drive into Luton during the morning rush
hour, and if that idiot in the green Toyota overtook Him in the teeth of oncoming
traffic at almost twice the 30mph limit, He might be moved to at least accept
the permissibility of a little light verbal remonstrance. Possibly accompanied
by gestures. And lightning bolts.
I’ve now been driving just under a year,
and I am sad to report that in that time the number of people upon whom I have
bestowed unflattering epithets has increased significantly. I have also
sentenced a great many more people to corporal punishment and handed out
executions at a frightening rate, all of them richly deserved. How else should one treat those who don't indicate coming off a round about, or who don't wave when you kindly allow them through, even though it was your right of way? I once found it necessary
to sentence the entirety of the Morrison carpark to death for a vast array of offenses both motorised and pedestrian. I don’t enjoy being
judge, jury and executioner, but someone has to take a hand. I think of it as
doing my bit for the Big Society, if that’s even still a thing.
My point is that instead of getting
easier, it’s got even harder to be anything like a good Christian. The anonymity
of the internet means that many of the old reasons not to call people a fool,
such as the fear of a fist to the nose, have been removed. There are no
immediate consequences. Sitting in the security of my car, I can call the
driver (for want of a better word) of the green Toyota as many names as I like;
he can’t hear me.
Not only is our goal unachievable,
it’s actually managed to get harder, if that’s possible. However, although it's true that it’s
easier than ever to commit certain sins it’s also easier than
ever to do good. It’s so easy to give to charity, so easy to spread love,
encouragement, and wisdom, anonymously if you wish to. We have been given more than
any generation before us, more to do evil, more to good, and to those whom much
is given, much is expected.
Sitting in my car at 7.45am on the A5,
it’s easy to spit abuse at the silly fellow in the green Toyota, but that doesn’t
change anything. It doesn’t change what we have been told to do. That it’s
easier doesn’t make it any better; if anything it makes it worse. If we can’t
restrain ourselves when it’s easy to lash out, why would we at any other time?
Tomorrow then, I shall attempt to
restrain the nastier aspects of my wit. I shall attempt to be slightly less of
a hypocrite. If I see the chap in the green Toyota, I shall attempt not to
think what an unwise and reckless person he is. I shall try to forgive the foibles of my fellow motorists and let them off with a caution, at most. I won’t succeed, but to throw
in the inevitable Lewis quotation, “If we aim at Heaven, we get the Earth
thrown in. If we aim at the Earth, we get neither.”
