Another wonderful passage from J. C. Ryle’s book, Holiness:
Genuine sanctification…will show itself in habitual attention to the passive graces of Christianity. When I speak of passive graces, I mean those graces that are especially shown in submission to the will of God, and in bearing and forbearing toward one another. Few people, perhaps, unless they have examined the point, have an idea how much is said about these graces in the New Testament, and how important a place they seem to fill. This is the special point that St. Peter dwells upon in commending our Lord Jesus Christ’s example to our notice: “Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that we should follow his steps: who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth: who, when he was reviled, reviled not again, when he suffered, he threatened not, but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously” (1 Pt 2:21-23). This is the one piece of profession that the Lord’s Prayer requires us to make: “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us”; and the one point that is commented upon at the end of the prayer. This is the point that occupies one-third of the list of the fruits of the spirit, supplied by St. Paul. Nine are named, and three of these, “long-suffering, gentleness, and meekness,” are unquestionably passive graces (Gal 5:22-23). I must plainly say that I do not think this subject is sufficiently considered by Christians. The passive graces are no doubt harder to attain than the active ones, but they are precisely the graces that have the greatest influence on the world. Of one thing I feel very sure—it is nonsense to pretend to sanctification unless we follow after the meekness, gentleness, long-suffering, and forgiveness of which the Bible makes so much. People who are habitually giving way to peevish and cross tempers in daily life, and are constantly sharp with their tongues, and disagreeable to all around them—spiteful people, vindictive people, revengeful people, malicious people—of whom, alas, the world is only too full! —all such know little, as they should know, about sanctification.
One line in that passage seems especially pointed: “The passive graces are no doubt harder to attain than the active ones, but they are precisely the graces that have the greatest influence on the world.” What a great thought.
The world in which we Americans live is rife with examples, with none perhaps greater at the moment than the 2024 Republican primaries. That those who would call themselves “Christian” would side with a man so combative and confrontational when there’s still a choice tells me that, as Ryle says, “…all know such little, as they should know, about sanctification.”
But where should they be in their Christian walk? I woke this morning wondering about it – how can so many people deviate so far from the character to which they’re called? I’ve long wanted to avoid “checklist Christianity,” but I can’t help but look for some of the behaviors I would expect from a Christian in order to believe their testimony. I would think that among the top indicators would be how a person treats the source – God himself. Do they pray regularly? Do they attend worship regularly? Do they read the Bible regularly? Is it just me who believes these things necessary in order to hold dearly to one’s Christian faith? I’m speaking for myself here when I say I can’t believe that anyone (including me) who treats their faith without the utmost seriousness is actually living that faith. If someone does not read one’s Bible diligently and questioningly – studying it both directly and indirectly to see what God is asking of them and to learn his story as he’s recorded it – how can I believe that they actually believe in that very God. I’m not asking for dissertations. I’m not asking for memorization of every relevant passage and argument. I just want to see where a person turns when they want to grow closer to God. What is the authority by which they live their lives? In whom do they place their trust?
And this leads me to Ryle, because the humble person turns to God. I’ve been reading through his book for a while now, and on more than one occasion it’s brought me here to try to capture my thoughts. I’ve read more than one passage like the one above and stopped to think deeply about it and how what he’s talking about exerts its influence in my life. Am I seeking God’s way with humility? Am I turning to God for my provision, asking not as a demand based on some kind of perceived privilege, but as an appeal to a promise made by the all-powerful creator of the universe? Am I trusting too in the passive graces – the meekness, gentleness, long-suffering, and forgiveness of the Spirit – to live my life as a neighbor to those who need God’s love more than they need to “take back their country from the Godless?”
If I’m asking these questions, is anyone else? The current political climate from the view of “evangelical Christianity” tells me that few in evangelical circles are. They seem to be clinging to an old-fashioned religion that looks as wide as an ocean but is only as deep as the kiddy pool. It’s a “Christianity” that depends upon the protections of its historical standing in America where, as recently as just a couple of decades ago, one’s position in the community depended upon the church to which one belonged.
To be honest, that brand of “Christianity” has been crumbling for a while now. It is no longer advantageous to rely upon one’s church attendance for community standing, so those who depended upon it for just that reason have drifted away. The fastest-growing segment of America’s religious landscape are the “nones” — that is, those who claim no religion at all. Not only do many see no need for it, they even see it as a detriment. The shallow religion from which they came left in its wake a plethora of oppressive actions and attitudes from which one could choose one’s excuses. The very thing that made people come to the church to be at the pinnacle of their communities – that is, belonging to a club that had its rules and privileges – began to work against the church itself. Those who choose to leave the faith usually do so because of how the “outsider” is treated. And while I can’t necessarily agree with how the government wants to save those outsiders, I know one thing for certain – anyone who’s serious about their Christian faith should also be serious about helping their fellow man. “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.” Jesus points to all of these things to tell his true followers how they should be acting.
Or not. “I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” That sounds too much like a lot of the evangelical crowd today.
Maybe I’m being unfair. I know plenty of Christians who are simply concerned with the direction in which the country is going. Like everyone else, they want to protect what they value. But they should also be concerned about how they project those values – not through in-your-face combativeness, but through the passive graces about which Ryle is speaking. Not to live scared, but to serve humbly, fighting for what is right in the eyes of God, and not in the eyes of the party.
