Chapter 10: Only One Thing Matters

Note: This is the tenth in a series of letters written for those living at the end of the age, whenever that comes in the next fifteen years or the next one hundred and fifty years. Once complete, I’ll combine them into a book. You can access the previous chapters here.  If you are not already subscribed to this blog and want to make sure you don’t miss any, you can add your name here.

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In your last letter you wrote, “The performance-based approach to God blinds us to the relational journey.” Can you unpack that more? Every day, I succumb to temptation, when I know better, struggle to apply godly disciplines, and feel his disappointment far more than I feel his love. I’ve been at this for over twenty-five years and want to find my footing on an authentic journey with Jesus.
Leo, surgical sales rep, and father of two in Tennessee

Thanks for writing, Leo. Your email makes my heart sad because I hear it so often. As much as Christianity teaches that Jesus has “paid the price for our sin” or “met all the requirements of the law,” it still loads us up with behavioral expectations that keeps us focused on our failures and blinds us to his love growing in our hearts. 

Even those who believe Jesus declared them righteous still labor under the obligation to appease him. Intuitively they know that the cross had to be about more than perpetual immunity that lets us live by our own desires without consequence. However, all our solutions to mitigate that put people back on the performance treadmill, which fails to yield the fruit Scripture says are ours—love irresistible, life in abundance, peace through trouble, and fullness of joy even in desperate times. Then we’re left to wonder where we went wrong or how God failed us? 

Let me see if I can help you get off that treadmill, Leo. It is well-designed to keep us so preoccupied with our personal righteousness that we miss the only thing that matters. Like the serpent’s lie in the garden, it preys on our best intentions. Who wouldn’t want to be like God, which is what our preoccupation with trying to be righteous seeks to do? It just doesn’t work because it depends on our effort.

A Different Way of Living

Jesus showed us how to live differently and then gave us everything we needed to walk as he did. He was not preoccupied with sin or living in fear of God’s punishment. He didn’t pursue personal piety or think himself excluded from God by the lack of it. 

But he was God, some might argue, so he didn’t battle the same temptations we do. Scripture tells us he did. Though he never gave into sin, it came for him unrelentingly, in ways we could never imagine. He experienced every temptation we do, and yet they couldn’t win over him. Why? Was he just strong enough to resist? Or did he hold a place inside his Father’s heart where temptation lost its appeal? 

I’m convinced it is the latter, and that is exactly what he offers us. Trying to gain personal righteousness is the greatest distraction I know to true discipleship. Those who focus on sin, especially those who work to abstain from it, will find themselves in a perpetual whirlpool of failed effort and its resulting shame, or they will pretend to have success in “major” sins as they seek refuge in the delusion of self-righteous arrogance. The second of those is far worse than the first. 

Both scenarios completely miss the point of God saving us from wherever our lives got twisted or broken. The salvation Jesus offered is to give us freedom from darkness and invite us into his life. By making it about heaven and hell instead, we emptied the cross of its power. We were taught that a “sinner’s prayer”, a commitment of faith, inviting Jesus into our heart, or being baptized, seals the deal. Having our eternal destiny secured, knowing his love became optional and no longer connected to the essence of salvation.  

You can’t live long in Christianity without being plagued by a call to righteousness and the competitiveness and comparisons it engenders that pit fellow believers against each other. And when we tie God’s favor to that, it gets even more destructive. If we do enough, he will bless us, answer our prayers, and keep us from harm. So, any time we endure hardship, we can blame ourselves for falling short of his righteousness, which leads to endless self-effort and second guessing our motives, or God’s. 

That’s why people can campaign for a biblical morality even as they treat people around them with indifference, anger, or deceit. The religious view of righteousness cannot produce a life of love. Perhaps Paul himself is the greatest example of that. Even though he was faultless as to the law, he became the “worst of sinners” by murdering God’s people. 

Aren’t We Supposed to Seek Righteousness?

Given all that Scripture says about righteousness, these may be difficult words for many to swallow. Christianity has landed on a fixation with righteousness that produces the opposite of what it intends. Personal godliness is not the goal of our faith; it is the fruit of a life lived inside God’s love. If you’re not living in that love, nothing you do externally will make any difference for you or for God. 

I have long known that our preoccupation with personal piety and trying to fight temptation is the greatest distraction to people experiencing the love and life of Jesus and the fruit that bears. And yet, the quest for righteousness fits so well into our religious paradigm. Of course, God wants us to be holy. So, we think that means we must work against sin by devotion, commitment, and accountability. And while those can help us overcome specific sins, they will not lead us to his fullness. 

What if the word ‘righteousness’ is not even in the Bible? I know what you’re thinking, and I thought it too when I first heard that from a South African theologian. His email couldn’t have been timelier, since I was already well into this chapter when I got it. Even still, it took a while for me to understand what he was saying. At first, I was ready to delete the email, thinking this was yet another nutjob spouting some weird doctrine. Of course, righteousness is in the Bible. I could think of at least fifteen verses mentioning righteousness just off the top of my head and knew there were dozens more. In fact, it is difficult to talk about the Gospel or Christianity in our day without using the word righteous. 

But what if it is a mistranslation of a Greek word? That’s what Tobie van der Westhuizen from Bloemfontein, South Africa had concluded after eight years of study. The more I read, the more convinced I became that he was on to something. His research could have profound implications in what the Reformation left incomplete. With his permission, I share a bit of it here. 

How did he come to such a conclusion? Part of it was by reading Plato’s Republic in Greek. More than three hundred-and-fifty-times Plato uses the word our Bibles translate as righteousness. But reading Plato’s book with that in mind, it made no sense. Then he found English translations of that text that used ‘just’ and ‘justice’ instead of ‘righteous’ and righteousness’. Except for a few exceptions, only in the Bible is this word translated as ‘righteousness.’ 

Tobie began to read the Scriptures substituting the word ‘justice’ and ‘just’ for ‘righteousness’ and ‘righteous’, and it made much more sense. As I read the Scriptures that way, I realized God’s love had already won me into that reality even though I hadn’t had this language for it. We are currently airing some of my conversations with Tobie on my podcast at TheGodJourney.com. 

Any Bible scholar will tell you that righteousness and justice are related words, and most Greek dictionaries use justice as one of its definitions. However, justice offers a wider lens than our popular ideas about righteousness. Whatever you love about God’s righteousness is already inside justice, though justice expands it to include how we treat others. That’s why Jesus could say that love will fulfill the whole law. You can’t lie about or steal from someone you love. 

To most people, righteousness speaks of sinlessness, personal piety and devotion. Focusing on those things is a valuable tool for the religion we’ve sculpted around Christianity, but it puts people on the religious treadmill, striving for something they can never attain. It keeps them guilty and in fear, and thus much easier to manipulate. The only way to survive guilt is to take Martin Luther’s tack that our righteousness is imputed in Christ. Thus, we are declared righteous, no matter how we live. It allows people to live under a perpetual immunity at an abstract level, while still captive to darkness of their flesh. 

God’s Kind of Justice

That’s why people focused on righteousness never experience the life of God growing inside them. Jesus’s kingdom was not about a declaration; it was about a transformation. If God is focused on justice in an unjust world, it changes the emphasis throughout Scripture. Jesus’s new command to love one another as we are loved by him makes more sense. Instead of being focused on our personal piety, the gospel becomes relational—experiencing his love for us and sharing it with others. 

If you’re equating God’s justice with human justice, you’ll still misunderstand my point. Many think of justice as a legal proceeding often wrapped in vengeance—people getting what they deserve. But God’s justice is not about law at all, and no law could ever bring it about, even his own. God’s justice is laced with love, forgiveness, and mercy as he is more interested in setting things right by resolving our injustices through love. 

Think less about legal systems and more about the power of a just man or just woman living in the earth. I like to think of the “justness” of God—always for what is true, right, and fair, but in a context of mercy and grace. The outworking of forgiveness is not amnesty or immunity, but the opportunity to make right what damage we have caused another. That’s why God’s justice could never come through a system of law one can fulfill by checking the boxes. 

Take three verses for example, substituting justice for righteousness: 

• Matthew 5:20-21 – For I tell you that unless your justice surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven…
• Matthew 6:33 – Seek first the kingdom of God and his justice and all these things will be added to you.” 
• Romans 1:17 For in the gospel the justice of God is revealed—a justice that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: “The just will live by faith.” 

Do you see how the emphasis changes? As our hearts are shaped by his love, we find ourselves empathetic for others instead of using them to our benefit. That’s why Jesus said that doing to others what we would have them do to us would fulfill all the law and the prophets. This is how we participate in God’s justice—putting ourselves in the place of the other and treating them the way we would want to be treated if you were them. We all hate being treated unfairly but so easily miss when we do it to others. 

Of course, our preoccupation with justice can be just as much a distraction as a quest for righteousness, especially when we do it by our own effort. God’s justice flows out of a heart won into his love. Thus, our passion for God’s kind of justness fulfills itself in growing closer to him, not trying to act better. So, we seek justice by reveling in his love and watching it flow out of us to others. In the end, our preoccupation is with the Father, Son, and Spirit from whom all love and justice flow. Only by seeing how God sets things right in us with his love can we joyfully share that mercy, wisdom, and grace with others. 

In the end, it’s all about love. Give up thinking you can earn God’s, or that your struggles with sin negate it. God’s love is not something we attain; it’s a reality we relax into. It is the very essence of the Gospel itself. That’s why Paul wrote: “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.” Galatians 5:6. 

All other preoccupations are decoys, and religion has given us many. When we focus on personal piety, missions, pleasing a religious leader, or our calling in the world, or even how the church should function, we lose sight of the Head. All those things are simply the fruit of a life of growing trust in God’s love that manifests itself in caring for others. 

Leo, I know this is going to sound strange, but if you are seeking to find the essence of godliness, don’t focus on righteousness or trying to abstain from sin. It won’t lead you to God or his life. What will do that is your awareness of his magnificence and discovering how deeply he loves you.

If our forebears had understood that, they would not have wasted all the time, money, and effort creating religious systems to try to manage people. Our focus on love would have engaged the world even more than our arrogant piety alienated them. Imagine a world where everyone is treated fairly and one that champions mercy above sacrifice. Is it possible in this fallen world? I hope so, but it is possible for me and you to do it in our corner of the world. Our wisdom and generosity can make up for the injustice others have suffered, as is true of God for us. 

Making Disciples

Wouldn’t this completely alter the way we try to make disciples? By focusing primarily on theological knowledge, disciplines, or sinlessness, religion draws us back to the Law, even if cloaked as “New Testament principles.” Conversion, according to Tobie is not believing the right set of doctrines; it is an engagement with love that converts us from slavery to our narcissistic flesh to an others-focused life of love and mercy. 

Thus, the kingdom Jesus envisioned is not an enclave of like-minded religious thinkers cloistered away from the world while holding fast to doctrines and rituals for comfort. He saw a growing company of just men and just women who would embody his love in the world, living as ambassadors of God’s kingdom in a world gone mad. 

What would discipleship look like then? It would most certainly be less about disciplines, rituals, checklists, and accountability to stop from sinning. It would mean coaching people to recognize and yield to the revelation of Jesus’s love in their own hearts and how to embrace that love as it renews their mind. Then it would encourage them to discover how to share that love freely with people they encounter. And where we struggle, we know that God’s love has still more to teach us. 

That’s it. It may be hard to believe but engaging that kind of love will change your life, freeing you to live inside God’s nature. You’ll discover the Scriptures are a valuable resource to help you know him, learn to engage God in prayer, and discover the conversations of community that will nurture our journey, but you will learn it relationally, not just as an obligation. 

That’s where you will find the connection you seek, Leo. Learning how to participate in his love will accomplish all that the law and prophets were meant to do, and it will happen where it does not depend on human effort. Slowly, you will find yourself living differently in the world because this love will change you at your core. It’s not an excuse to hide your dishonest and selfish ways but will increase our empathy for others so that we can no longer use them for our benefit or watch them suffer unjustly. That’s how love and grace will teach you to say no to fear, selfish ambition, and vain conceit. 

Then you can embody his kingdom in the world by living out easily and freely what Hosea said God wanted.  

And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8) 

Let love teach you the power of living justly, the wonder of sharing mercy, and the gentleness of walking humbly, just as God does with you. There is no greater joy than discovering that freedom and no greater purpose than being a light for justice and fairness in a world desperately craving for both. When the end of days comes upon us, those are the people who will bear his light and love in the darkness.

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You can access previous chapters here.  Stay Tuned for Chapter 11.

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