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Hunched over his desk, penknife in hand, Thomas Jefferson
sliced carefully at the pages of Holy Scripture, excising
everything that did not fit his personal world view. Hell? It can't
be. The supernatural? Not even worth considering. God's wrath
against sin? I don't think so....
Today, Jefferson's handiwork is on display at his home in
Monticello: a copy of the King James version of the New
Testament, full of holes.
Christians rightly shudder at this brazen impudence, and
thank God that we have been preserved from such monumental
deception. And surely, no true Christian would be comfortable
with the aggressively arrogant stance that Jefferson took toward
Holy Scripture.
But check your pockets. Look in your purse. Almost
certainly you'll come across a penknife — a metaphorical
one, perhaps, but good and sharp just the same.
We all keep one around, you know. Yours and mine may not
be as well-used as Jefferson's. You've probably never sliced away
at Scripture with the same unholy zeal. But surely, now and then,
every one of us watches some challenging passage flutter to the
floor. Then we fold in the blade, tuck the knife away, and simply
keep reading, as if nothing odd has happened.
John's Challenge
One passage that particularly challenges Christians is the
Apostle John's command, "Do not love the world or anything in
the world" (1 John 2:15). Many modern evangelicals
have conveniently imposed on this passage fanciful
qualifications intended to weaken its impact and authority.
Others of us simply ignore it. In either case, it's as if this section
has been cut out of the Bible.
Can you hear the soft hiss of sharpened steel on paper?
See? ... there's the passage, lying in a curl in the trash. But what
a futile act! What hopeless, defiant folly! Has this intellectual
maiming of Scripture actually altered God's Word? Has his truth
been diminished or changed in any way? Are we less accountable
than before?
Scripture is a unique gift from God requiring our careful,
reverent attention. Some passages we may wrestle with our
whole lives. But no passage is ever to be dismissed. And no
passage as plain as 1 John 2:15 ought to be hard to grasp.
Rather, taken in the full context of Scripture, let us embrace its
clear and liberating challenge.
God's Dear Children
James Means has pointed out that in the evangelical church
in America it is common for a "professing Christian to remain in
a lifestyle indistinguishable from that of the unregenerate
individual, but with confidence [that he possesses] eternal
salvation."1 In his letter,
the Apostle John confronts with fatherly concern those to whom
such an observation would apply. "The man who says, 'I know
him,' yet does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth
is not in him" (1 John 2:4).
At the same time, the Apostle graciously affirms the
genuinely converted, describing them as walking in the light,
confessing sin, obeying God's Word, and demonstrating love.
Five times he addresses these believers with the tender phrase,
"dear children." The words offer strong encouragement,
affirming his confidence that their sins are forgiven. They are
genuine believers in Jesus Christ. "I write to you, dear children,
because your sins have been forgiven on account of his
name" (1 John 2:12).
These believers are, of course, living at various stages of
Christian maturity. In chapter two, John affirms the younger men
for growing strong as the Word of God changes their lives. He
rejoices that the fathers — the more mature members of
the church — have increasingly been delivered from the
power of sin and have developed an intimate communion with
God. All the truly converted are among the dear children whom
John addresses, and he graciously attests to the evidences of
saving and sanctifying grace in their lives.
What We Must Not Love
John's affirmation of the church provides the necessary
basis for this firm, unequivocal exhortation:
Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone
loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For
everything in the world — the cravings of sinful man, the
lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does
— comes not from the Father but from the world. The
world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will
of God lives forever. (1 John 2:15-17)
Here, honest questions may arise in the minds of some. In
Genesis, didn't God declare all his creation "good"? Then how is
it that we, God's dear children, may not love it? And if "God so
loved the world that he gave his one and only Son," (John 3:16)
why are we forbidden that same love?
The issue here is, of course, simply a matter of translation.
When Christians in the first century read John's letter, there was
no confusion about the meaning of this passage. There need be
none for us, either.
The original readers of John's letter recognized that the
John 3:16 "world" which God loves is a reference to people
— the entire human race. And they knew that elsewhere in
Scripture, that which we now find translated as "world" often
speaks of the sinful ways of fallen humanity — the world
of arrogant self-sufficiency and hostility toward God. This is the
"world" we are warned of in 1 John 2:15. Not the human race,
creation, or God-ordained structures such as family, career, and
government. It is, instead, the world of sin, rebellion, and
self-reliance from which we must diligently withhold our so
easily diverted affections.
We are to love all God has established, but we are never to
participate in the defiance of God that has polluted creation
since the fall. This is what it means to be in the world but not of
the world.
Because God's grace is sufficient for our every need and our
every pursuit of holiness, we need not fear failure as we purpose
to obey John's command. But purpose we must: without diligent,
grace-motivated effort to not love the world, we will fail and, by
degrees, become of the world: worldly.
Cravings, Lust and Boasting
Whatever the culture in which we live, 1 John 2:16
lists three desires of the heart that reveal worldliness: "the
cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes, and the boasting of
what he has or does." David Jackman comments, "The 'worldly'
characteristics of which the verse speaks are in fact reactions
going on inside us as we contemplate the environment
outside."2 In other
words, the root issue when it comes to worldliness is internal in
nature, not environmental. John is equipping us to discern
worldliness where it first lurks: within the heart.
Cravings. The "cravings of sinful man" are not the
legitimate desires of the body. They are the illegitimate,
idolatrous cravings and tendencies of the non-Christian, or of
the Christian who continues to be excessively influenced by sin.
Indeed, due to indwelling sin the heart can defile even legitimate
desires, transforming them into idolatrous cravings. This is why
John Calvin observed that "the evil in our desire typically does
not lie in what we want, but that we want it too much."
Lust. Our eyes are a precious gift from God, yet
they provide us with opportunities not only to observe, but to
covet. "Lust of the eyes" is not a reference to sexual sin
exclusively. It applies to many areas that may entice us and
attract our covetous attention, including such things as modern
media, music, and dress.
Boasting. How prominent in this materialistic age
is the boasting of what one has or does! Several years ago, the
Washington Post Magazine described a man who arrives
at a Washington networking party.
[T]he people there weren't so much potential friends as
potential commodities, each hoping to rise in some unknown
way through the rub of others. Sure enough, when the people
around the man discovered he was a reporter for an influential
newspaper, they fawned over him. This irritated the man. He
went upstairs, where someone again chanted the Washington
mantra, "What do you do?"
"I'm a garbage man," he said.
"Oh, you own a garbage company."
"No, I pick up garbage."
A labored silence followed. "Yeah, and you know what bugs
me — people who put wet grass clippings in plastic
garbage bags. You know how heavy that is? Why don't people
think?" The man rambled on and on, knowing that his squirming
audience was trapped as long as he talked. When he finally
stopped nobody said a word. Heads turned and soon he was
alone.3
Why was this man left alone? Because no one there aspired
to share in his particular brand of boasting. We all tend to enjoy
certain kinds of boasting, and to value boasting about the things
we find worthy of our time and attention. What sort of boasts do
you value? How much of your boasting is in the things of this
world, and how much of it is, like Paul's boasting, centered on
the gospel?
Something's Missing
Worldliness, like any other sin, can never truly satisfy the
soul. Even the unsaved, if they live long enough and gain any
measure of wisdom, often come to understand this. Media
fixture Ted Koppel has written,
So many people are, on paper, indisputably fortunate to live
in such an unbelievably rich and blessed nation. And yet these
Americans do not strike me, by and large, as a happy people.
There is a sullen edge to our satisfaction.... And the worst part is
that we don't seem altogether sure of what we're
missing.4
What's missing is the fruit of the gospel. There is no future
in worldliness, but there is an eternal future in godliness. Only
godliness delivers as advertised. When informed by an eternal
perspective, the things of this world are exposed as
worthless.
Do not slice from your Bible the inspired admonitions of 1 John,
chapter two. Study them, love them, embrace them. Seek
out their abundant, course-correcting wisdom. And never desert
the things of God for the things of the world.
Instead, deepen your relationship with the Father. Receive
God's gracious forgiveness of sin, increase in your knowledge of
him, and triumph over the evil one. From there — from
the place of greater maturity, wisdom, and godliness —
you will be able to look at the tawdry, temporal glimmerings of
the present world and say, "Why would I love this?"
* * *
NOTES
- James Means, Effective Pastors for a New Century:
Helping Leaders Strategize for Success (Grand Rapids, MI:
Baker Book House, 1993) p.63.
- David Jackman, The Message of John's Letters
(Grand Rapids, MI: InterVarsity Press, 1988) p.61.
- Walt Harrington, "Prisoners of Overachievement,"
The Washington Post Magazine, (November 13, 1998)
pp.56-57.
- Ted Koppel, Off Camera: Private Thoughts Made
Public (New York, NY: Vintage Books, 2001) p.314.
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