Character Still Matters. So Do Your Methods.

The ends don't justify the means. How we got there is as important as what we got when we arrived.

Photo Credit: Unsplash

“Get in the car,” she screamed to her four children while they fought with each other in the parking lot. No one could keep their hands to themselves, and the mom had clearly lost control. She grabbed one by the arm and shoved him in the van. She picked up the other and placed him in his booster seat, ordering him to buckle quickly before she got to her side of the car. She was seething with anger. This was supposed to be a quick grocery store trip. It turned into a wrestling match before she even grabbed her cart. Now she was mad, and she wanted these children to obey.

She yelled. She threatened. She made sure they knew how awful they were.

And by the time she pulled in the garage, no one was talking, and everyone filed out of the van silently. Finally, peace and quiet were hers.

Many of us can relate to this mom. I know I can—we’re in the home stretch of summer break, so everyone is a bit squirrelly.

But many of us also can relate to the sinking shame she feels when she finally sits on the couch after barking orders all day. It could have gone differently. The outcome was what she wanted, but the path to get there didn’t feel like the right one.

Do we praise her for getting obedience out of her children? Does the end justify the means?

It’s an extreme example, but we’re often at a crossroads, even if you’re not a parent. Do you adopt questionable actions to achieve desirable ends?

In other words, does the end justify the means. If you land in the place you’re hoping, does the path you took to get there even matter? Or does it all come out in the wash eventually?

In her book, Redeeming Power: Understanding Authority and Abuse in the Church, Diane Langberg writes:

Good words that describe a good process but use the wrong substance in order to accomplish a good goal are no longer good.

When we hear scriptural words about building up the church for the glory of God the work sounds heavenly. But when the building materials are arrogance, coercion, and aggression, the outcome is hideous. How we flesh out our good words matters.[1]

I used an extreme example in the beginning because there are outcomes we hold so close that we’re willing to adopt any methods to achieve them. A mom willing her children into submission is not universally accepted behavior, so it’s jarring to read or witness. But what about in politics or in the church? We’ve seen this play out on multiple levels. We want a political end, so we look away from the rotten character of a candidate. We’re so desperate to see the gospel go forward to the nations that we suspend belief when abuse accusations arise. We hold tightly to preaching God’s word, so we protect and support a pastor even when he contradicts the very word he preaches by his actions.

If thousands of people come to faith in Christ through the preaching of a man who led a half dozen children to walk away from Christ because he protected abusers (or abused them himself), does God weigh the scales and call it good?

I’ll let the prophet Isaiah answer,

            Woe to those who call evil good
            and good evil,
            who substitute darkness for light
            and light for darkness,
            who substitute bitter for sweet
            and sweet for bitter (Isaiah 5:20).

When we stand before the throne someday, I don’t think God’s going to look at our ministry efforts and say “He was a good preacher, so I’ll excuse his lying,” or “She drew large crowds and led hundreds to Christ, I’ll pretend she didn’t cheat on her husband,” or “He was a beloved ministry leader, the kids he abused were so few, it’s okay.”

Jesus cares about the one (Luke 15).

He leaves hundreds of sheep to find the one who is astray because every single sheep matters to him, especially the one left for dead by the institutions she was led to trust.  

I fear there are many (myself included) who’ve been deceived into thinking that we can absolve our guilt by the good outcomes. If we get what we want, the journey we took to get there fades to black.

But that’s not how God sees it. He cares about the heart from beginning to end. If we embrace “underhanded methods” to get there, then the fruit is rotten to the core (2 Cor. 4:2).

Langberg goes on to write,

In Christendom, we can use spiritual language to cloak selfish ambition, hide abuses  of many kinds, and do incalculable damage in the name of God.[2]

My prayer for myself, and all who call themselves Christians, is that we would root this out—from our churches to our politics. To our neighborhoods and our schools. And even to our denominations.

The desired end doesn’t justify the rotten means.

Character matters. So do your methods.

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[1] Diane Langberg, Redeeming Power: Understanding Authority and Abuse in the Church, 52.

[2] Langberg, 53.