byFaith | 4.23.18
By
Alan Dowd
We may not have known all their
names before 2017, but we knew something about their talents, the images they
portrayed in public and their reputations. They come from the world of entertainment—Weinstein
and Hoffman, Spacey and Piven, Affleck and Simmons—and journalism—Lauer, Halperin
and Rose—and politics—Franken and Franks, Moore and Conyers and business. They
are black and white, homosexual and heterosexual, male and female,[i] Democrats and Republicans.[ii] The list goes on and on.
Of course, this isn’t a list anyone
wants to make. What all these people have in common is not just that they’ve
been accused of and/or confessed to serial sexual harassment—and some much
worse—but that all of them have destroyed their reputations in the process.
After all, before 2017, many of them seemed to be good people, at least from
the safe distance of the television set and movie screen. That’s the tricky
thing about reputations: sometimes they don’t reflect reality.
The past year reminds us that
two-dimensional versions of three-dimensional people can often be false—and
that even the best reputation can be destroyed in a fraction of the time it takes to
build one.
Image
Is Everything
First things first: This
article is not about sexual harassment, which is a serious and shockingly
pervasive problem. A staggering 42 percent of working women have experienced sexual
harassment.[iii] This is a
plague—for the sake of equality and fairness, for the sake of our culture and
our workforce, for the sake of our moms and wives, sisters and daughters,
nieces and granddaughters—that the Church and the world desperately need to
address.
Speaking of the Church, the tidal wave of
sexual-harassment accusations and disclosures gives us an opportunity to
discuss something God really cares about: that word “reputation.”
Reputations, as we have seen in recent months, can
reflect the heart of a person or disguise it. They can be good or bad. And they
can be ruined in an instant. This truth applies to anyone: the good husband who
has but one indiscretion and ruins his family; the good mom who has one too
many cocktails, hops in the car and ruins someone’s world; the good teacher who
loses control for just a moment and ruins her career; the good surgeon or CEO
who cuts a corner and ruins someone’s life. This truth—this frailty of
reputation—hangs over all of us.
God has long challenged His people to cultivate
and protect their reputations. There are two important reasons why.
For Christ’s Sake
First,
each of our reputations and indeed our collective reputation as His people—what
the world thinks about us and how the world sees us—reflect on Him.
“A good name is to be more desired than great
wealth,” Proverbs 22 declares. “To be esteemed is better than silver or gold.”
I know this to be true because, thanks to my grandfather and my dad, I was
blessed with a good name. It was the first gift they gave me—one I never
thanked them for. Because my grandfather was loving and loyal, humble and
honest, good and gracious, because my dad is all those things, the good name
they handed down to me is a treasure that I didn’t earn and don’t deserve. Yet I am known by their name—a name that is respected and admired
because of them.
In the same way, the
Lord shares His good name with us. His good name and reputation—proven over
millennia of rescue and redemption, healing and helping, sacrifice and salvation,
love and light—can be tarnished and tainted by the behavior of His children. As Paul wrote in a scathing section of
his letter to believers in Rome, “God’s
name is being blasphemed among the gentiles because of you.”
God’s name is connected to me and you. How we act, what we say
and leave unsaid, what we do and don’t do—these things tell the world about Him. As Peter explained, God’s people
are supposed to “Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse
you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day He visits us.”[iv]
Peter understood that if we don’t keep our word, the world will
think He doesn’t. If we don’t help those in need, the world will think He
doesn’t. If we are hateful or vengeful, uncaring or unforgiving, distant or
cold, the world will think the same about Him. And if God’s people are no
different than the world, the world will ask, “What good is God?”
The good news is that God can defend
and rebuild His reputation in ways that people cannot. In spite of the behavior
of His children, He reminds the world of who and what He truly is. Indeed, the
Bible is sprinkled with moments when God rises to defend “My own name’s sake”—in a
sense rebuilding His reputation from the mess His people have made of it. “It is not for your sake,” He thunders to in the Book of Ezekiel,
“that I am going to do these things, but for the sake of my holy
name, which you have profaned among the nations where you have gone. I
will show the holiness of my great name, which has been
profaned among the nations, the name you have profaned among them. Then
the nations will know that I am the Lord.”
For Our Sake
A second reason God wants His people to cultivate
and protect their reputations stems from the fact that our reputations reflect
on other believers, which ultimately reflects back on God. The Church, after
all, is the Body of Christ. We are His arms, His hands, His feet, His face, His
voice.
This
helps explain why all the
prerequisites and requirements of being a church leader are related to
reputation.
Consider
Acts 6:3, where the apostles instruct believers in Jerusalem to select “men of
good reputation, full of the Spirit and of wisdom” to handle the daily
distribution of food to widows and others in need. Likewise, in 1 Timothy 3, Paul advises that
elders and deacons must
have “a good reputation with outsiders.” He instructs that those in church
leadership should be “above
reproach,” “faithful,” “temperate,” “self-controlled,” “respectable,”
“not given to drunkenness,” “not violent but gentle,” “not
quarrelsome,” “not a lover of money,” “worthy of respect” and “not
pursuing dishonest gain.”
It also explains why Paul spent so much time advising the early
Church—in Galatia and Ephesus, Corinth and Rome, Colossus and Philippi—about
what was acceptable and what was unacceptable. “Do not conform to the pattern of this
world,” he wrote.
Instead, “hate what is evil.”[v] And Paul had no qualms about listing the evils
that swirl around the Body of Christ: “sexual
immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and
witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions,
factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the
like.”
There is no place for these in the Body of Christ.
What the world should see when it sees the Body of Christ is “love, joy,
peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.”[vi] These
characteristics build up the Body and attract those outside the
Body—strengthening the Lord’s good name and reputation
along the way.
Paul adds that God’s people should “live in peace with each other,” “be patient
with everyone,” “be joyful” and generous, “submit to governing authorities,” pay their taxes and “aim for
perfection.”[vii]
Perfection. That’s an interesting—and surely
intentional—word choice. Paul challenges us to aim for perfection. Not lukewarm
mediocrity. Not live-and-let-live acquiescence, but rather iron-sharpens-iron
excellence. Yes,
we all have feet of clay. Yes, we all fall short. But that doesn’t mean we
should revel in the muck of our sinfulness; that doesn’t mean anything goes;
that doesn’t mean we have no right speak the truth in love; that doesn’t mean
we shouldn’t try to improve.
What
it means is that we should hold each other to a high standard—higher than the
world’s standards—because Christ has given us His good and perfect name.
It pays to remember that Paul, who called himself
the “worst” of all sinners, bluntly ordered Corinthian believers to “expel” a
brother living in sexual immorality. “You must not
associate with anyone who claims to be a brother or sisterbut is
sexually immoral or greedy, an idolater or slanderer, a drunkard or
swindler,” he instructed. Why? Because doing so could be taken as tacit
approval for willful sin, which could cause seekers and believers alike to stumble,
which would do damage to the Body of Christ and thus to the good name of
Christ: “If one part [of the Body] suffers,” Paul warned, “every part suffers
with it.”[viii]
Paul, like Peter, understood something that we forget or ignore: There’s a
standard of behavior for Christ’s people because taking Christ’s name—being
adopted into His family—is supposed to set us apart from the world. Our
reputation really should precede us.
Image Is Nothing
Of
course, having a good reputation is only half the battle. The epidemic of
high-profile sexual harassment scandals serves as a reminder that a good
reputation doesn’t necessarily mean a person is, well, good. And anyone who has
ever been the victim of character assassination, false gossip or innuendo knows
that a bad reputation doesn’t necessarily mean a person is, well, bad. It pays
to recall that people with good reputations said Jesus was “possessed…by the prince of demons,”
dismissed Him as “raving mad,” and used “Samaritan” as a slur against Him to
smear His name, His parents, His background and His birth.[ix]
The Lord has good news for anyone who has a “bad” reputation in
the eyes of the world because of His name: “Blessed are you when people insult
you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because
of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of
righteousness, for
theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”[x]
This
is not a license to be self-righteous. In fact, it’s the very opposite: When we
take Christ’s name, we become ever more aware that our righteousness comes from
Him—not from us. It’s so separate from us—so outside of us—that Paul compares
it to a breastplate worn by a soldier. To extend Paul’s metaphor, Christ covers
our flaws and flesh with Hisrighteousness.
As
to the far more common problem of cultivating a “good” reputation in order to
hide bad character and willful sin, our goal as God’s people is not simply to look good. After all, Jesus reserved His
fiercest words for religious people—self-righteous
people—who cultivated good reputations but were “like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are
full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.”
Our
goal as God’s people is to strive for good reputations that reflect the
goodness that can only come from accepting and following Christ.
If Paul was trying to remind the newborn Church
and us that image is everything—at least when it comes to protecting and
preserving our Lord’s reputation and good name—two characters from the Gospels
remind us that image is sometimes nothing.
Scripture
tell us there was a man who, by all appearances, was good, righteous and even
pious. He collected money for the poor, healed the lame, drove out demons, fed
the hungry, preached the Good News and literally walked with Jesus.
During
one of those walks across Judea and Galilee, he met a woman who never
understood or practiced such piety. In fact, she was lost and literally living
in sin. After a lifetime of loveless relationships, after five divorces, after
being used and tossed aside by every man in her life, she was living with a man
who wasn’t her husband. Doubtless, she understood the pain caused by men who
abuse power to gratify their sexual appetites. When she encountered Jesus, she
was so lost, so numbed by life, that she couldn’t figure out who He was on her
own–Jesus had to come right out and tell her.
Which
one of these reputations would you choose?
The
man’s name was Judas, and he lived a lie. He did many good things in Christ’s
name and for Christ’s kingdom. But in Judas’ tragic life, we learn that even
apostles can be frauds. In fact, all along, as John explains—as if to help us
understand the betrayal—Judas was more interested in money than the Messiah,
more interested in looking good than doing good: “As keeper of the money bag,”
John reports, “he used to help himself to what was put into it.”
Judas
even tried to diminish how others expressed their love for Jesus: “Why wasn’t
this perfume sold and the money given to the poor?” he objected, after Mary
anointed Jesus with expensive perfume. In other words, Judas was worse than a
common thief. He not only stole; he maintained the pretense of piety in order
to make himself look better than everybody else.
The
woman’s name remains one of scripture’s mysteries. But we know she lived in the
Samaritan town of Sychar. We know she heard the same message Judas must have
heard a thousand times. But we know she accepted it into her heart. She
literally drank it in. Once Jesus told her about living water and life through
the Son, she was renewed and reborn.
In
the last glimpse John provides us of the woman, we learn that she became an
evangelist: “Many Samaritans believed in Jesus because of the woman’s
testimony.”[xi]The last time we see or hear about Judas, he is swinging from a makeshift
noose, the victim of a life built on lies and a false reputation.
Judas
serves as a reminder that a good reputation can cover up an ugly heart—and that
without Christ, even a good reputation cannot save us from our past, from our mistakes,
from ourselves. The woman at the well serves as a reminder that we are not
doomed by the reputations we make for ourselves—and that with Christ, no
reputation is beyond repair.
[i]http://www.kansascity.com/news/politics-government/article189931704.html
[ii]http://www.ajc.com/news/world/from-weinstein-lauer-timeline-2017-sexual-harassment-scandals/qBKJmUSZRJqgOzeB9yN2JK/
[iii]https://consumer.healthday.com/sexual-health-information-32/abuse-and-rape-news-604/feeling-sexually-harassed-you-re-not-alone-729417.html
[iv]1 Peter 2:12.
[v] See Romans.
[vi] See Galatians.
[vii] See II Corinthians, I
Thessalonians and II Thessalonians.
[viii] See I Corinthians.
[ix] John 10:19, John 8:48-50,
Mark 3:22.
[x] Matthew 5.
iV John 4: 39.