In The World, but Not Of It

My first couple posts have been somewhat direct criticisms of Christianity as it exists in modern America, and my call has been akin to repentance – literally to turn around and change your path. For this post, I want to deviate from that form, to derive my call to action not from deficiencies in specific scriptures, but rather from meditating on a particular passage.

Meditation, as described in the opening words of the book of Psalms, is worth doing throughout your whole life, studying its richness and complexity. I think this work bears fruit as we work the word of the Lord into our hearts, and as we sit with the complexities and tensions (yes, like the name of this blog) to find how they can create more complex ideas than the sum of their simple statements.

For this post, the passage on my heart is one that has bearing on how we, as his disciples, live our lives day by day. As such, I think it’s an obvious candidate for meditation, and the call to action I’m making is to ponder it daily as a check on how you’re living your life. This comes from the Jesus’ last prayer recorded in the gospel of John before Judas’ betrayal:

I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.

John 17:14-18 ESV

Perhaps it’s not shocking that this last prayer is so grand in scope, especially if you’re familiar with how John shaped the gospel narrative and where this prayer sits. And in that wide-reaching span, we see a classic tension that’s become something of a modern catchphrase: “In the world, but not of it.”

I think the call to action here is multifaceted, reflecting other central instructions of Jesus. To an extent, these facets can be analyzed separately, but putting them together into one object is critical to understanding their depth and richness. As they pull against each other, they create a balancing act, and even a whole new complexity as described above.

In The World

On the one hand, we are instructed to be in the world. Much as Jesus taught, and elsewhere Christains are called ambassadors or instructed to make disciples, this instruction is to interact with those around us. We cannot withdraw from society, nor can we scorn it, or otherwise reject it. Firstly, to do so is to divide ourselves from the world. But more than that, I believe there is ample beauty in creation, we are called to rule all of it.

As much beauty as there is in explicitly Christian works, such as music and paintings, there is so much more beauty that is in this world. Classic literary works often fall under this category; many of the greats (C. S. Lewis notwithstanding) had little influence directly from the stories of the Bible. Shakespeare and Doyle explore fallenness and moral ambiguity, Journey to the West has been considered a classic hero’s tale among modern English audiences. Even the works of Homer, which predate the birth of Jesus by centuries, are inarguably titans of literature (if you’ll excuse the Hellenic pun).

In addition to appreciating secular art (obviously where it doesn’t go against Christian morals), there is value in engaging with it, creating our own, and otherwise exerting a Christian influence on what is around us. The same goes for works other than art. If God designed the universe and everything in it, I think it’d be silly to deny that He designed – as an example – silicon, electrons, and all the other components that go into computers if He didn’t want us to use them for good and beautiful things. Just the same as a printing press can be used to share the Bible or a cookbook, and both are good in different ways, I could be running a cooking blog and it could still be a way for me to appreciate and share the beauty of creation.

This goes for people as well. The crown jewel of God’s creation, our fellow image-bearers, are perhaps the most important part of the world to be a part of. There are people out there in need of friends and communities, who have burdens we can lighten and who have unique perspectives and personalities. I’ve already made the case that people were built to be social, and getting to know one another is critical to living a fulfilling life.

Not Of the World

Then comes the other part: not being of the world. The distinction here is between what is good and of God, versus what is not good and is of “the evil one”. Idols have existed as long as written history. From the overtly demonic idols ancient Israel confronted to the more palatable pantheon surrounding the early Church, from the worship of kings and pharaohs and emperors to the worship of money and power, worldly objects of worship have always been present to distract, hurt, and destroy.

As Christians, I hope it’s not controversial to say that our job is to search ourselves for even the most subtle of these and root them out so that our loyalty is to the Lord alone. The love of money, power, people, even life itself should be scarce among us, particularly in contrast to the love of our God. Romans 6 explains this nicely, I think:

But thanks be to God, that you who were once slaves of sin have become obedient from the heart to the standard of teaching to which you were committed, and, having been set free from sin, have become slaves of righteousness.

– Romans 6:17-18 ESV

So we must obediently reject what is sinful. Elsewhere, we find instructions to flee certain types of sin. In Romans 16:19, Paul instructs readers to remain innocent to evil, using a Greek word that literally means to be pure or unmixed. Standards of leadership go even further, saying a leader must be above even credible accusation of impropriety.

Where art sends a message, we are instructed to understand that message, and avoid it if it goes against Christian morality. Where we can take advantage of someone, we are instructed instead to live in right relationship with them.

But

“But” may just be the central word to this blog. Its use here evokes the imagery of two ideas opposed, but building a greater whole, like cards leaning against one another to form a structure. This is the word that shows the presence of a core, binding idea; it’s the word that hints at the coin between these two faces. In the world, and not of the world, but both at once.

So the world is full of sin, and we should avoid sinful things – but we’re supposed to still be in the world. This pair of instructions, opposed to one another by the conjunction “but”, creates a point of tension that, at closer inspection, creates a complex and rich guiding principle. We can’t shelter ourselves from the realities of this world, hiding away from it, but nor can we engage with every hedonistic debauchery it has to offer. We walk the line, living a distinctly Christian and set apart life, but living it fully engaged with the rest of the world so we can be seen by the lost.

This unified principle – the “coin” with “in the world” and “not of the world” on either side – is that we are to be an out-of-place presence, an aberration almost. Akin to a lighthouse on the shore. It’s not like the towers of a city, which are surrounded by other towers such that they form one skyline, illuminating the region together. Rather, the lighthouse juts forth from unlike rock, shooting up to be the only visible feature for miles, illuminating and flashing to draw the eye to easily the most unique feature of the landscape.

Like the lighthouse, Christians are called to be witnessed from afar, to be jarringly out of place compared to the chaos around them. We are ambassadors for Christ, in the words of 2 Corinthians 5:20. Like ambassadors, we are in a land which is not ours, and we are there with a purpose – to influence it, and to represent the culture we do identify with.

It is through this multifaceted view of the verses from John that we can appreciate the criticality of both parts of this phrase. On the one hand, if we are in the world and like it, how can we shape it? How can a rock reliably sharpen another rock? How can we share the good news of Christ if we live in such a way that we are no different from those around us? But similarly, how can we shape the world if we are unlike it, but also apart from it? Can a whetstone sharpen steel without touching it? How can we be ambassadors if we never leave our holy huddles to shine the light of God into the corners of the Earth?

And the richness of this tension gets deeper. There are implications in this phrase for every facet of our life. If we use it as a gauge, we find a great number of guiding questions pouring out of such a short phrase. “Am I in the world? What worldly people am I reaching on a regular basis? Am I in the part of the world where God wants me? Am I reaching enough of the world? Am I reaching them with intent, in a way that I am clearly different? Or do the people around me see me as just another person in the rat race? How can I better be an example of the Eden blessing that can be theirs too? How can I make them wonder what makes me different? Am I truly carrying the culture and light of God with me, wearing it on my sleeve for others to see? Or do I have worldly idols distracting me, hindering my evangelism?”

This is the meditation I’m encouraging you to do: to look at your life through this lens, and see where its many faces shine light on your life or reflect different parts back. And I’d encourage you to look for other such things to meditate on, to find other concepts that seem somewhat at odds, and to sit with them and work them over until you find how they actually point to one theme, but pull it apart to form an intricate lattice. This lattice, this structure held upright by guy wires, is the richness and depth of the scriptures which have been shaped and crafted intricately over thousands of years. If, when Psalm 1 was written, it was already worthwhile to meditate on the Torah day and night, then how lucky are we that we have more than sixty additional books to draw inspiration and guidance from?

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