The Vanity of Vindication

We Christians have a problem: we like to be right all the time. We take pride in always having the answer and we are addicted to always proving our point. Most of all, we are set on having the last word.

Augustine prayed once, "Lord, deliver me from this lust of always vindicating myself." This is a profound and courageous request - one that I'm not at all sure I'd be willing to make just yet, ultimate truth and personal pride being still too tangled up in my insides. I still want to show people the way it is. For God's glory, of course.

I have always marveled that Jesus didn't go and pay a visit to the Pharisees after his resurrection. It seems like it would have been so satisfying to go waltzing into the Sanhedrin Monday afternoon: "Hey guys! Did you really think you could get rid of me that easily? Ha!" But Jesus didn't do that. He calmly and quietly met with his disciples, sharing a simple breakfast of bread and fish by the seashore. The post-resurrection gospel narratives have this unearthly calm about them. Our lives should read the same way.

In The Brothers Karamozov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky, there is a dialogue between Jesus and the "Grand Inquisitor," a strict dialectician who challenges Jesus regarding the way He has structured (or, more accurately, not structured,) Christianity. The Inquisitor marshals argument after argument, criticizing the indifference of the gospel and the havoc Christianity has created through the centuries.

When the Inquisitor ceased speaking he waited some time for his Prisoner to answer him. His silence weighed down upon him. He saw that the Prisoner had listened intently all the time, looking gently in his face and evidently not wishing to reply. The old man longed for him to say something, however bitter and terrible. But He suddenly approached the old man in silence and softly kissed him on his bloodless aged lips. That was all his answer. The old man shuddered. His lips moved. He went to the door, opened it, and said to Him: 'Go, and come no more... come not at all, never, never!' And he let Him out into the dark alleys of the town. The Prisoner went away.

Truth does not need to have the last word: it is the Word. We talk about truth and error being the alternatives in an argument. In one sense this is true enough; I am not advocating relativism here. I simply want to point out that capital-T Truth is above the argument altogether.

Sometimes I find myself looking forward to heaven so I can ask God who was right. "Ok, God, was it Boyd or Piper? Calvin or Servetus? Hauerwas or Rushdoony?" I think He'd smile at me with a twinkle in His eye and tell me gently that all this time I've been confusing rightness and righteousness.

Even in the intellectual sphere, what we believe has little meaning if it is divorced from what we do. Abstracting the truth from life into a neat little metaphysical matrix is about as useful as drawing an elaborate picture on the sand at low tide. It is, to use the ancient Preacher's term, vanity.

Some of us will no doubt be keenly disappointed to learn that there will be no "I-told-you-so" moments in heaven. Just love, peace, and freedom from the tiresome tyranny of constantly vindicating ourselves.

I say we start practicing.

Image courtesy of vetmed.lsu.edu