In my search for Christian marriage and parenting resources on the web, I have encountered much too much of a good thing. I’ve found plenty of great resources and suggestions, and plenty of holier-than-thou implications (or outright claims) along with them.
Christians have a tendency to take good lifestyle options and turn them into the plumb line for each other’s lives, I suppose because we humans are always creating new classes by which to make ourselves superior to others. This is legalism. Usually we think legalism is easy to avoid, because tacking extra requirements onto salvation is pretty obvious. But this subtle brand of legalism attaches extra requirements, not onto salvation itself, but onto sanctification. My current beef is with the homeschooling/bread-baking/dress-wearing blend of legalism, because I believe it has drawn in a dear friend. Homeschooling is an excellent education option, baking your own bread can be very nutritious, and dresses are feminine and fun to wear*, and interestingly enough, I have chosen all three of these to some degree. But they do NOT make me more holy, they are NOT required of Christians, and not choosing any of these does NOT mean that one is sinning.
(Please please please do not read this as a bashing of the homeschooling/bread-baking/dresswearing folks, I really am not bashing them, I am only arguing with those that believe those choices are requirements for Christians.)
Why would anyone choose a legalistic lifestyle? It is a subtle trap, and most are ensnared unawares. Legalism’s appeal is the assurance of getting it right. If we have explicit “big rules” to follow to attain holiness, we can always know where we stand. There is no gray area:
- Am I homeschooling my children? Check!
- Am I baking our own bread with home-ground wheat? Check!
- Am I wearing a dress? Che– (hm, I wonder if gaucho pants count as a dress, they’re flowy but they do say “pants” in the name, well, better be on the safe side and grab a jumper) — Check!
But sanctification, becoming more holy, more Christlike, is not often so discrete. The big rules (don’t murder, don’t cheat, don’t steal, etc) are based on principles that are harder to flesh out in our daily life. Instead of a linear checklist of physical conformity, I find it more like a game of spiritual Whac-A-Mole. When my daughter floods the toilet, I can feel myself desperately fighting to pound down the rising temptations to be impatient, impulsive, upset and harsh. The fruits of patience, self-control, peace, and gentleness are not check-box-able. They’re a constant striving to improve both the quantity and the quality of the fruit you produce, not as an end unto itself but to become more like Christ.
Think of the Pharisees. They created hundreds upon hundreds of rules governing how to live, because they didn’t understand that it’s more about the heart than about the way they prepared their food. (Note, the qualifying word “more.”) Yes, your life and choices are important, but they should be a reflection of the state of your heart, not followed as assurance of status. So for Pete’s sake, stop claiming spiritual superiority over the public-schooling/Mrs.-Baird’s-buying/jeans-wearing folks!
*For what it’s worth, I have read the Scriptures from which many derive the Christian “commands” to do each of these. I do not believe that a faithful interpretation of these Scriptures reveals these as commands to Christians. I believe that those who follow these as rules are doing so as the “weaker brother” to whom Paul refers in his discussion of liberty in 1 Corinthians. It assuages their own conscience to do so, but it is not required, and I am not bound by their rules.
Posted on July 9th, 2007 by Dove
Filed under: Learning
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