Being Mercenary

One old and tired criticism of Christians is that we are 'only' mercenary. It asserts we only strive to do good so that we can sort of buy our way into Heaven while avoiding the punishment of Hell.

Setting aside the point that there's nothing terribly wrong with such an idea - do we actually want to teach that it's better to do evil if you're so inclined rather than do good from less than perfect convictions? - the criticism avoids the generally accepted fact that people are encouraged to be mercenary in other ways, for much less important goals.

Aren't we mercenary in pursuing a job or career path? To seek a nice house in a nice neighborhood? When on the athletic field? In finding a soul mate? While shopping for cool new things or deciding what to have for dinner? In all these areas and countless others aren't we seeking what is good for us, however mundane? Yet in looking for eternal joy we aren't supposed to consider what's good for us, what will make us truly happy?

Absurd. As a practical matter, I'm fine with someone not breaking into my house simply because he fears jail time. It would be better if he weren't to become a thief for the sake of higher ideals: respect for others and personal discipline for a start. Yet whether out of fear or a clear understanding and acceptance of moral good, he would have acted rightly either way.

Being merely mercenary can never condemn a man. It is less than perfect, yes. But if it slips us through the Pearly Gates and keeps the old homestead secure, I should think it worth the trade.

Railing On Unnecessarily

I confess to sometimes beating a point to death. Would you be kind enough to forgive me up front if do that with yesterday's blog?

Yesterday (read it here: Being Mercenary ) I spoke about it being all right to do good for less than ideal reasons. Fear of punishment is one of those lesser ideals. Yet I wonder: isn't that how most of us begin doing good anyway? Or at least, avoiding bad? Generally, we discipline our children by threats of time outs or early bedtimes if they don't behave. An unusually angelic child may not require such warnings. But most of them do, at least from time to time.

Then as adults, how often must we do something good (in the sense of that something being right and just) when we really would rather not? Say you borrow something from a friend or family member and lose or break it. You know you must repair or replace it. How often is that done out of pure goodwill, a perfect selflessness? My guess is rarely. We make things right because we're embarrassed about it. Or we feel bad or are angry at ourselves for our stupidity. Or simply because we see that an obligation exists and know we have to fulfil it. My question is, how often do we do it with joy in our hearts?

At the end of the day the important thing is that we do what we ought to do under given circumstances, and preferably for the best reasons. But doing what's right is the critical thing. The better impulses will grow from that.