I am normally a critic of what Dr. William Larkin calls the “arrogant pessimism” of Reformed spirituality. When I hear people speak in the vein of Derek Webb that “The reason I struggle with this is because I really don’t believe the gospel,” or sometimes even “The thing is that I hate the gospel,” I think, “If you don’t believe the gospel, or you hate it, what makes you think you’re a Christian?” Perhaps the solution to this is that sometimes we disbelieve and hate the gospel in micro ways, while still believing it in a macro way. I’m borrowing that concept from Tim Keller, who says that those who break out of the “Teacher paradigm” into the “Redeemer paradigm” still live out of the teacher paradigm in micro ways, though they are operating in the Redeemer paradigm in a macro way.
Perhaps one of the favorite texts of pessimistic Reformed spirituality is Isaiah 64:6, which says, “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment.” Though I agree that sometimes our efforts at righteousness are not very righteous, I think it is an overstatement to say that this verse is descriptive of all our good deeds all the time. One verse that comes to mind that presents our righteous deeds in a different light is Revelation 19:7b-8, which says,
for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure"—
for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.
That passage is the polar opposite of a “polluted garment,” especially since the Hebrew behind that phrase literally means “menstrual cloths.” It’s interesting that the fine linen of the bride, or rather the privilege of clothing herself with it, is something that “was granted to her to clothe herself.” Even the righteous deeds are from the grace of God.
In any case, yesterday I felt Isaiah 64:6 when I tried to do a charitable deed. I have been going with a colleague from school and a couple of students to serve breakfast to homeless people in Charlotte. A group of people from Calvary church have been doing this for years, and my coworker had been asking me to come along for a year or so, but I didn’t actually do it until these two students got fired up about it, and I realized I should stop being lazy and get involved. After a few weeks, when I saw that some of them had bikes, I realized it might be good to bring a pump, some oil, and some tools to help them tune up their bikes. Last Saturday, I worked on the bike of a white guy named Mike, but I ran out of oil and had forgotten my pump. I realized that several other guys had bikes, but I had nothing left to work on them with. I tend to be pretty self-conscious and concerned about how I’m coming across, and I feared that maybe the other guys thought I was being racist by only working on the bike of the white guy.
So this week, I was determined that I would remember the pump and oil the chains of everyone’s bikes. When we got there, I saw two bikes on the side of the road, and after waiting a few minutes and asking a few guys if they knew who owned it, I decided to just go up and start oiling the chain. When I finished, I went to the other one, and pumped up the tire. As I finished, a guy walked up to me yelling, “Get your white a** off my sh*t!” He might have dropped a few mofos too. I was somewhat taken aback, but a guy standing nearby said, “You’re trying to do something nice, and he has no appreciation; that’s not right.” Then another guy came up to me and said “You were doing right, and most people would appreciate it, but realize that these guys aren’t like most people.” As I thought about it, I realized it was quite selfish of me to just presume that these guys would welcome a stranger messing with what was probably one of their only possessions. I realized that I would rather have helped those guys by working on their bikes than have them use my stuff to work on them themselves, because in my selfish overprotection of my mammon I would fear their running off with my bike pump. It was the exact same mindset that made me help them the way I did that made them defensive about my working on their stuff. I had to ask forgiveness for the selfish way I was attempting to do something good.
As I thought about it more, I realized this was a microcosm of the Iraq war, at least as I understand it. We are trying to do something good for people we think need democracy, and we are probably right in that, but if they have not asked us for this “help” (which I suppose might be debatable), it is patronizing or even insulting to take the initiative to “give” them democracy. I guess now the issue is whether I will adjust my strategy, or just “send more troops.” I am thinking that next week I will take the pump and the oil, but I will offer to let them use them rather than doing it without asking or even asking them if they would like me to do it for them. If the same guys are there, I will also apologize profusely for my presumption and patronizing attitude toward these men.
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