Worthy (eBook)

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Be Worthy

A Forgotten Calling?

“Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ” (Phil. 1:27).

That word “only” might deceive us into thinking this is a casual statement, like “Wait for me, I’ll only be a minute or two.”

But, in fact, it is the reverse. There is nothing casual here. When Paul says “only,” he uses the Greek word monon. Even if you have no knowledge of Greek, you can probably guess its meaning. “Only” here means “one and only,” “the one thing needful.” “Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ” means this is a nonnegotiable.

Yet we rarely, if ever, use this language today. When did you last hear a Christian friend’s life described as “worthy of the gospel”? Chances are the answer is “not very often,” and more likely “never.” To “live worthy of the gospel of Christ” does not rank high on the priority lists of the twenty-first-century church. But Paul placed it high on his priority list. That is why he underlines it for the churches in Ephesus, Colossae, and Thessalonica, as well as Philippi.1

Why a Forgotten Calling?

So why has Paul’s exhortation (and his way of thinking about the Christian life) dropped out of fashion when he obviously thought it was so important?

No doubt one reason is that we are (rightly) allergic to the idea that anyone could be worthy before God. We are all like the Roman centurion who said, “I am not worthy to have you come under my roof” (Luke 7:6), and like the prodigal son, who confessed, “I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son” (Luke 15:21). And isn’t Paul’s whole point in Romans 1:18–3:20 to argue us into a corner, where we are forced to admit our unworthiness? Every mouth is shut in the presence of the holy God of heaven because we are all guilty, all unworthy (Rom. 3:19–20). We can only say with the dying Martin Luther: “We are beggars. This is true.” Our hymnbooks (or overhead screens, for that matter) never teach us to sing, “I am worthy, I am worthy”—only “Thou art worthy, thou art worthy, O Lord.”

So the gospel teaches us we are unworthy. We are saved by grace, not by worth.

Yet Paul prioritized our responsibility to live in a worthy manner. Why, then, are we reluctant to take his words at face value?

A Latent Fear of Legalism?

Another part of the answer is the fear we have that any exhortation to be worthy of the gospel is by definition legalism, or at least likely to lead to it. But if so, why did Paul, the apostle of grace, say this?

In recent years, grace has often been given a headline role in teaching and preaching, perhaps especially among younger evangelical preachers who have come to feel that too many Christians are prone to all kinds of legalism. There is too much of the atmosphere of “do” and “don’t.”

Certainly too many Christians have suffered from a “conditional” sense of acceptance with God—as though his love for us is ultimately dependent on how well we perform. God then becomes like a schoolmaster to be pleased by a satisfactory performance, or a policeman who makes sure we are keeping the laws, whereas the gospel is about his grace, because it comes from “the God of all grace” (1 Pet. 5:10).

There is certainly something important in this emphasis. For since Eden we have all been legalists by nature. The assumption that somehow or another we have to do something to earn our way into God’s favor is the default position of the human heart. That is why it is the characteristic most world religions have in common.

So the gospel tells us to bathe in God’s grace.

But Paul well knew that emphasizing God’s grace in Christ in reaction to legalism is not necessarily the same thing as understanding the grace of God in Christ.

Perhaps an illustration will make the point. I recall hearing a preacher expound a New Testament passage that emphasized the grace of God. But at the same time, the passage was punctuated by exhortations to holiness (as many passages are). During his exposition it became clear he thought at least some (and probably most!) of us listening to him still thought of God’s grace as “conditional.”

Maybe he was right. But instead of showing us how God’s grace energizes us to obey God’s commands and helping us to see the connections between God’s grace and our response, he simply ignored the exhortations. All he did was warn us against “legalism” without telling us how Christians who, like their Lord, want to live “by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matt. 4:4) can obey his commandments precisely because of God’s grace. So his sermon missed teaching us this fundamental gospel principle: the richer and fuller the exposition of the grace of God in Christ, the safer it is to expound the all-demanding commands that flow from it as a result.

But this is what the New Testament teaches constantly. It is why Paul’s letters are punctuated by words like therefore and so. For it is in the nature of God’s grace that he gives all; but the grace that gives all also seeks all to be given in return; it can be satisfied with no less. Any young man or woman who has fallen in love knows this.

So to press the mute button on the commands of the New Testament actually subverts God’s grace rather than highlighting it.

How Grace Relates to Obedience

The true relationship between grace and obedience is powerfully expressed in Paul’s summary of the gospel in his letter to Titus:

For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people,

training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions,

and

to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age,

waiting for our blessed hope,

the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ,

who gave himself for us

to redeem us from all lawlessness

and

to purify for himself a people for his own possession

who are zealous for good works. (Titus 2:11–14 reformatted)

To which Paul adds a further exhortation to Titus himself:

Declare these things; exhort and rebuke with all authority. Let no one disregard you. (Titus 2:15)

This is strong language—in its description of the wonder of grace, but also in the way it spells out its implications—not to mention what Titus is to do about it! The stronger the foundation of a house, the bigger and stronger the building itself can be. And the richer and fuller the exposition of God’s grace, the more consuming the exhortations can be.

Geerhardus Vos once commented with great insight that the essence of legalism is to divorce the law of God from the person of God. It is “a peculiar kind of submission to law, something that no longer feels the personal divine touch in the rule it submits to.”2 So dividing the grace of God from his commandments becomes legalism. But separating God’s commandments from his grace is not the solution. It only disguises the problem; it can never dissolve it. In fact, it turns both grace and law into impersonal realities in which we lose hold of God himself. No. The God of grace is also the God of commandments; the two belong together and need to be embraced together in Christ. To put it another way, knowing Christ as Savior and knowing him as Lord can never be separated; nor can justification and sanctification. They belong together in Christ. And as John Calvin shrewdly commented with some frequency, to isolate them from each other is to “tear Christ in pieces.”3

The Meaning of “Worthy”

So what is implied in Paul’s exhortation “Only let your manner of life be worthy [axios] of the gospel of Christ”?

In English versions of the New Testament, the Greek word axios is usually translated “worthy.” But its flavor is expressed elsewhere when it is translated “in keeping with” (Matt. 3:8; Acts 26:20). Like many other words, there is a picture lying behind the origin of axios. It means “Properly, ‘bringing up the other beam of the scales,’ ‘bringing into equilibrium,’ and therefore ‘equivalent.’”4

The basic idea is that a life that is worthy of the gospel of Christ expresses in the form of a lifestyle what the gospel teaches in the form of a message. Such a life takes on a character that reflects the character of the Lord Jesus Christ.

When I was a boy, my morning chore before school was to collect some of the provisions our family would need for the meals of the day. One of my tasks was to go to the local butcher. My mother charged me to ask for a specific cut of meat and a specific weight of it. In those now far-off days our butcher used old-fashioned scales with two pans. On one he placed weights to the amount I asked for. On the other he measured out the meat, adding to it or subtracting from it until the central pointer indicated a...