Taking Pains to Do What Is Right
Dave Faust
My wife and I received an interesting piece of mail the other day. It was a note from the Indianapolis Water Company that stated, "During a recent account review, it was discovered that there was an overpayment or misapplied payment at the time of your final billing . . . . The enclosed check is a refund of the credit amount. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you." A refund check for $6.96 accompanied the note.
It's always nice to get an unexpected check in the mail, even if it's barely enough to buy a meal at a fast-food restaurant. However, since it has been four years since we moved from our previous home in Indiana, we were surprised and impressed that someone at the Indianapolis Water Company discovered their error and made it right four years after the mistake was made.
The apostle Paul was equally conscientious. When he and other leaders were trusted with a financial gift for the churches, he wrote, "For we are taking pains to do what is right, not only in the eyes of the Lord but also in the eyes of men" (2 Corinthians 8:21).
Why would Paul say this? Isn't he the one who emphasizes how we're saved by God's grace, not by doing all the right things? Doesn't he repeatedly insist that he's not trying to please men but the Lord? Why should he be so concerned about every cent? Why "take pains to do what is right" in the eyes of men?
In these days of moral relativism, we need to understand that obedience doesn't contradict God's grace; it confirms it. We don't do the right thing in order to earn salvation, but to express our gratitude for God, who gave us salvation.
It's not legalistic to be ethical. The Lord calls us to a lofty ethical standard when he says, "Just as he who called you is holy, be holy in all you do" (1 Peter 1:15).
Years ago I read about a man who survived imprisonment under the old Communist regime of the Soviet Union. He explained how he kept his sanity, his faith, and his integrity intact during the long ordeal. One technique the Communists used, he said, was to ask prisoners to lie about seemingly insignificant things, like signing a paper saying they ate fish for dinner, when actually they ate pork. "They tried to erode our sense of truthfulness," he said. "They knew if they could get us to lie about small things, eventually it would be easier for us to accept bigger lies." One of the keys to surviving his imprisonment was the fact that he refused to lie even about small matters.
Jesus said, "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much" (Luke 16:10).
That's an important lesson in a day of declining ethical standards. And evidently it's a lesson someone at the Indianapolis Water Company understands.
This column first appeared in The Lookout on Aug 27, 2006.
Taking Evil Seriously
*Evil* sounds harsh to contemporary ears, but sometimes it’s the only word that fits. Child abuse is more than a mistake; it’s evil. Terrorism cannot be justified as a political strategy; it’s evil. Pornography isn’t a joke or an innocuous expression of free speech; it degrades women, shames and enslaves men, and destroys families. Betraying your spouse can’t be rationalized as merely an error of judgment. Drunkenness isn’t a harmless rite of passage for young adults; it’s a thief that steals good judgment, a murderer that kills on the highway, a butcher that carves up a person’s dignity and reputation.
Lord, Teach Us to Pray
Suppose you lived in the first century and you were one of Jesus’ original disciples. Out of all the things you saw him do, what would you have asked him to teach you? Would you have been curious to know how he changed water into wine? Might you have asked him how to give sight to the blind or calm a storm? Would you have wanted to learn how to speak in parables and tell unforgettable stories?