Of Cleanliness and Godliness

^{Note: This article was originally published at SI on August 20, 2007.}
If cleanliness is next to godliness, it is because they are in such close competition. It is hard to be godly and to be clean, too. When a schedule already bulges with a full-time job, church ministries, activities, and raising a toddler, sometimes the choice becomes one of washing the pile of dishes or reading the Bible, of writing an exhorting letter to that wayward believer or fixing the faucet, of inviting that new family at church over for dessert or getting the boxes in the basement unpacked (since we bought our first house in May).

I am a clean freak. (My wife just glanced over my shoulder and corrected me. “You used to be a clean freak.” Touché). Having a toddler and all of these various responsibilities has constrained me to relax my standards, and it vexes my clean-freak soul. If asked what she does for a living, my wife tells people, “I fight entropy.” And entropy fights back so hard, you would think we’re living under some kind of curse.

But wait. We are living under a curse. So I have to keep not only my new 0.42 acres free of literal thorns and thistles, as described in Genesis 3, but also the retaining wall clear of Killer cicada wasps and the bathroom sink drain free of clogs and so on. Difficulty “getting it together” is to be expected east of Eden. All creation groans, but I think we humans groan the loudest. Or maybe it’s griping.

I would never advocate that believers become like monomaniacal geniuses who let their hair grow like eagle’s feathers and their nails like bird’s claws as they solve problems of astrophysics or write great symphonies. I would suggest, however, that we put the messiness of life in a fallen world into perspective. It could be that the messiness is due to laziness. “A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest,” and entropy overtakes us like blitzkrieg: “The field of the lazy man … there it was, all overgrown with thorns” (from Prov. 24:30–34, NKJV). It could be that we need to work on general efficiency or time management. There may be some unnecessary tasks on the to-do list. But assuming that’s not the case, assuming that we have done all we can to be good stewards of our time and resources, the sink is still full of dishes, and the car is covered with dust. What then does God have to say to us?

The first and most obvious point is that godliness is more important than cleanliness (or fill in the blank with anything else on your to-do list). We can easily affirm this truth with our lips, but somehow we still find ourselves itching to get that other stuff taken care of and browbeating ourselves when we do not. Our stated priorities need to penetrate into our affections, too. I just jokingly referred to monomaniacal geniuses who resemble the Geico caveman, but what did John the Baptist look like? While the call to a rugged ministry in the middle of the desert was unique to John the Baptist, the spirit of “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30) is a model for us all. If we care that much and that singleheartedly about the glory of Christ, it won’t matter if we shop at Goodwill, drive a 1989 Hyundai, have a hedge resembling the Sputnik satellite on the front lawn, or whatever else a life of following Christ might lead us into.

The second point is that godliness will involve a certain amount of suffering or sacrifice. Paul said, “All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution” (2 Tim. 3:12, KJV). Genuine physical persecution is a remote possibility for most of us. Christ brought up more domestic, probably more pertinent, concerns: we are to be willing to forsake father, mother, and homestead; indeed, life and limb (Mark 9:43–47, 10:29; Luke 14:26). If we are called to persecution and family tension and personal sacrifice, surely a cluttered schedule and a certain amount of coming short in other areas of life are bound to occur. And when we do cut things from our schedule, someone may be miffed. “Sorry, I can’t do overtime on Saturdays; I’ve committed to ______ at church.” “I can’t come to the employee picnic; it’s on a Sunday.” But let’s put this “suffering” (I feel compelled to put this word in quotation marks lest our brothers and sisters in Indonesia laugh us to scorn) in perspective again with the first point: what’s more important? My wife and I believe wholeheartedly that raising our daughter biblically is very important; therefore, my wife stays home to raise her; therefore, we are a single-income family; therefore … a lot of limitations. These limitations are best met with the conviction that accepting the limitations now is an investment toward something invaluable in the future: a daughter raised “in the nurture and admonition of the Lord” (Eph. 6:4). That was simple.

The third point is that God’s plans and promises of grace aim at godliness. Try as I might, I find nowhere in Scripture a guarantee for a green lawn or even the ability to read a volume of theology every week. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Christian athletes sometimes pump themselves up with this verse. I look back on my short-lived high school basketball career, and if I had tried to use that verse, it would have been the worst extreme of “word faith” or “name it and claim it” you’ve ever seen. Clearly, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” is no blank check made out to anything I might write in my day planner, especially not athletic prowess. I would love to do lots of good things: write a Christmas program for church, write a tract that has been bouncing around in my head for two years now, finish Calvin’s Institutes and a host of other books I’ve only dipped into, learn more about gardening, organize a church library, remodel the bathroom, take a modular course in Hebrew at Faith Baptist Theological Seminary in Ankeny, write in a journal for my children to have in the future, organize the giant tub of papers from college. Again, I have no promise in Scripture that I’ll do any one of them. But let’s revisit the “I can do all things” in context: “I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all [of these, I think] things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Phil. 4:11–13, KJV). Can you keep healthy? Maybe not. Can you do everything you wanted to do in a week? Maybe not. Can you be content? Yes. How about working at that? Can you be content with working on being content? Can you be content with being godly? Together, godliness and contentment are “great gain” (1 Tim. 6:6). Furthermore, that’s where the promises are. God has given you everything you need for godliness (2 Pet. 1:3). You may or may not be predestined to have a large, efficiently run ministry, but you are—if you are a Christian—predestined to be Christlike (Rom. 8:29). So add to your faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and so on. Cultivate the fruit of the Spirit. You can do that, whatever else is going on in life. And you can rejoice in knowing that it pleases God.

Finally, God may have a very good reason to prevent His children from getting it all together, namely, to keep us humble and dependent. Paul’s thorn in the flesh, whatever it was, was given to keep him from being “exalted above measure” (2 Cor. 12:7). Now, I have my lack of athletic ability and my general klutziness (spilling all manner of food on myself, injuring myself in ways only cartoon characters could), and that’s fine to tell you about and laugh at together. But there are other limitations and shortcomings that are none of your business except for that fact that I am painfully aware of them and that God can and does use them to remind me of Who is really doing the work in and through me.

What began in the kitchen has ended in the eternal purposes of God. What began as a minor irritant now appears to be a subset of the problem of evil. In short, God is the Creator, and we are the creatures. We are finite; we are sinful and therefore under a curse. God has answered this problem with the death of Christ and saving grace, but more than that, with transforming and enabling grace. As new creatures in Christ, we are transformed and equipped to live for the glory of God. Our finitude, the curse on the earth, and the opposition from the world do not change. But it is in just such a situation that we learn about God’s saving and enabling grace, His strength and sovereignty, His mercy, His wisdom, His good purposes in Christ, and where we find the weight of glory.

Michael Osborne received a B.A. in Bible and an M.A. in Church History from Bob Jones University (Greenville, SC). He co-authored the teacher’s editions of two BJU Press high school Bible comparative religions textbooks What Is Truth? and Who Is This Jesus?; and contributed essays to the appendix of The Dark Side of the Internet. He lives with his wife, Becky, and his infant daughter, Felicity, in Omaha, Nebraska, where they are active members at Good Shepherd Baptist Church. Mike plans to pursue a further degree in apologetics.