Perhaps the crowning revelation of the character of God came in the upper room the night before Jesus was crucified. If you look in Luke’s account, Jesus said to the twelve, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover supper with you. But the one who is to betray Me is sitting with Me at the table.” They began to argue with each other as to which one of them would do this terrible thing. But they also were arguing as to which one of them should be thought of as the most important (Luke 22:23-24). Can you imagine their arguing about who was the greatest at the same time they were debating which one of them was going to betray Him?

How did the Son of God treat them? Did He chide them for their childish behavior? Or scold them for their unwillingness to wash each other’s feet? Instead, the whole universe watched as their Creator, the One they worshiped, arose, got a basin and a towel, got down on His knees, and washed a dozen pairs of dirty feet (John 13:4-12). He even washed the feet of His betrayer, Judas. Think what it says about God that He would treat them in this way. Jesus could have looked up at them and said, “You don’t believe My Father would be willing to do this, do you?”

What moved the disciples was not so much that their teacher and leader washed their feet. What moved them was that God washed their feet. Imagine their experience as they looked down on His head bent over the basin and felt His strong carpenter hands on their feet. Then to have Him look up and say, “You don’t think My Father would do this, do you? But He would. If you’ve seen Me, you’ve seen the Father. If you are comfortable with Me, you will be just as comfortable with My Father” (based on John 14:7-9).

Think what fools Jesus’ disciples were to miss the opportunity to wash the feet of the Son of God before He died. What a memory one of the disciples could have had for eternity! Imagine Jesus meeting him a million years into eternity and saying, “John (or Peter or James), I’ll never forget how you washed my feet the night before I was crucified.” That disciple would never get over it. And they missed out on it because of their attitude and misbehavior in the upper room.

When Jesus told the disciples that one of them would betray Him, did He expose that person before the others? No, it says in the biblical record that when Judas left to do what he had determined to do, they thought Jesus had asked him to go buy provisions for the feast, or perhaps even to make an offering to the poor:

Jesus said to him, “Do quickly what you have to do.” No one at the table understood what he meant by this. Some supposed that, as Judas was in charge of the common purse, Jesus was telling him to buy what was needed for the festival, or to make some gift to the poor (John 13:27-29, NEB).

Think how Jesus covered for His betrayer. Why didn’t Jesus expose him before the others? Of all people, the traitor deserved it! But the traitor was a member of God’s family, just a seriously misbehaving one. God takes no pleasure in embarrassing His children.

Think of the story of Simon, the leper healed by Jesus (Luke 7:36-50). He invited Jesus to a dinner at his house. During the feast, a woman anointed Jesus’ feet with expensive perfume. If this scene is the same one recorded in John 12:1-8, that woman was Mary of Bethany, sister of Martha and Lazarus. It is possible that this is also the same woman who was taken in adultery in John 8:3-11.

In the account of Luke 7, the woman tried to keep her actions private, but forgot that the fragrance would fill the air. So the act became public. Simon said (to himself): “If Jesus were a prophet, He would know what kind of woman this is that is touching Him. He would know what kind of sinful life she lives” (based on Luke 7:39). Jesus spoke up and said, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” “Speak on,” he said (7:40). And Jesus told the story of the two debtors (7:41-43). Simon realized that Jesus knew his innermost thoughts—which meant that Jesus knew what a sinner he had been! Simon held his breath to see if Jesus would expose him before the crowd. Surely, self-righteous Simon deserved to be exposed. Yet Jesus handled it privately. He maintained Simon’s dignity and his reputation with his associates. He did not expose him. At the same time, He graciously accepted Mary’s impulsive act. Think what these stories tell us about our God.

In the person of Jesus, God was present among us in human form, face to face with sinners. One of the best known of these sinners was the poor woman taken in adultery. But she wasn’t the only sinner in that story. There were also the pious, but heartless accusers who brought her to Christ in an attempt to trap Him into contradicting the Old Testament (John 8:5-6). This was not the first time they had sought to entrap Him like this. But each time they had done it before, He had met them with His customary skill and grace and the whole occasion had turned against them. This time, to be sure that they could convince the crowds in the temple (8:2), they made sure they had convincing evidence. So when they brought the woman to Jesus they said they had caught her “in the very act” (John 8:4, NRSV).

It is immediately apparent from the story what kind of people these were. According to the Old Testament rules, they should have brought the man as well (Lev 20:10). There is no way they could claim they hadn’t observed the man involved, because they had said “We caught her in the very act,” which would be difficult to do without observing her partner as well. So their dishonesty was immediately apparent. After they put this poor woman in front of a large crowd in the temple (8:2), they said to Jesus, “You know the texts in the Old Testament. You know what the Bible says should be done to this woman. Do you agree? Should she be stoned, or not?” John 8:5. And the whole crowd watched to see what Jesus would say.

Jesus chose to say nothing. Instead He bent over and wrote with His finger in the dust on the ground. A few footprints, a few puffs of air, and the record would be gone. It doesn’t say in the Bible that He wrote their sins, but judging by their reaction, that is what He must have written upon the ground (based on 8:6-7). As they looked over His shoulder and saw their lives delineated in the dust, they left one by one from the oldest to the youngest. Before they left, though, Jesus turned to them as He was writing these things down and said, “I suggest that the one of you who has never sinned throw the first stone at her” (8:7). Then He bent down and went on writing. When they were all gone (8:8-9), He turned to the woman who was left there and said, “Where are your accusers?” She looked up and said, “I don’t know. They are gone.” Then He spoke those incredible words to a woman that had committed a really reprehensible act. He said, “I don’t condemn you either. Just go home and be a better woman from now on” (based on 8:10-11).

How graciously and generously Jesus, the Son of God, sought to recover the woman’s dignity and self-respect. We marvel at His treatment of her. But what about His treatment of those pious, heartless accusers? He evidently knew the facts of their lives by what He wrote in the dust. Why didn’t He gather the crowd a little closer and say, “Let Me tell you something about these pretentiously pious frauds. Do you know what this one has done, and that one?” Didn’t they deserve to be exposed? What does it say about God that He didn’t expose those self-righteous accusers? Is it that God finds no pleasure in embarrassing His children? In the first chapter of this book we noted that all His professing children, good and bad, are members of God’s family. God did not publicly humiliate those men, even though they would have deserved it.

What do you think it will be like, someday, to stand in the presence of the Infinite One and realize that He knows everything about us—and I do mean everything? Even if we are among the saved, will we be comfortable to spend eternity with Someone who knows us so well? Our answer to these questions depends on the kind of person we believe our God to be. In this chapter we will again consider the most convincing evidence that God is not the kind of person His enemies have made Him out to be; arbitrary, vengeful, unforgiving, and severe. The evidence of how He treats His erring and troubled children points to a God who is infinitely powerful, but equally gracious.

One day we all will stand before God, whether we are saved or lost. Forbid the thought, but if anyone should die before finishing this chapter, the next moment of consciousness for that person would be face to face with God. The Bible states this clearly in many places; this is one of the most vivid:

Then I saw a great white throne and Him who sat upon it. . . . And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. . . . And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, by what they had done (Rev 20:11-12, RSV).

Even if we are among the saved, will it be comfortable to spend eternity with Someone who knows us so well? Even though we have been forgiven, we all have been sinners. Paul is very clear about this in Romans 3: “There is not even one who is righteous. . . . For all have sinned, and all fall short of God’s glorious ideal” (Rom 3:10, 23, TCNT). So even though we are saved and forgiven, will God haunt us with the memory of our sinful past? As I’ve already mentioned, the answer depends upon the kind of person we believe our God to be. All through Scripture God has spoken to this question, not in claims and promises alone, but with evidence and with demonstration. And surely the most convincing demonstration was provided by the way Jesus treated even the worst of sinners.

Lou: Related to the previous chapter on the emergency measures, a questioner writes, “I was disappointed that you used Galatians 3:19-25 as referring to the Ten Commandments, whereas I think Paul was concerned about the doctrine of circumcision. The entire book of Galatians was an endeavor to change the church’s view of the ‘ceremonial’ law. See Acts 15 and so on. Isn’t it true that the sacrificial system is the added law? Doesn’t Colossians 2:14-16 talk about a law that was to be blotted out?”

Graham: One could readily come to that conclusion, but I think one would pay a price in taking that view and not including all law. One might be tempted to say that a legalist is a person who still follows the ceremonial laws, as the Pharisees did. “There’s no way you could be legalistic about the Ten Commandments.” Yet the most damaging legalism over the centuries has been with respect to the Ten. Certainly the most damaging legalism has been with respect to the fourth of the Ten Commandments. So I believe Paul’s point is about all law. All law was an emergency measure to bring us back to faith and a right relationship with God. That’s the point. So if you leave out the Ten in Galatians 3, you are suggesting that there is no way you can be legalistic about the Ten Commandments.

Lou: A few more questions. “If the universe was satisfied when Christ died, then why are we still here?”

Graham: Ah, that’s a great question. We will answer that in detail in Chapter Eighteen. “What is God Waiting For?” is a question we ought to keep in mind throughout these conversations. Why did He wait so long to send His Son? Why is He waiting so long to send Him back the second time?

Lou: Here’s an intriguing question: “Would we lose our freedom if God always rewarded the righteous? If righteousness always paid off, why rebel?”

Graham: That might explain why God does what He does sometimes, as with Job in Scripture. It’s true. If every time I did what was right God rewarded me, that would be quite a motivation, wouldn’t it? Then I would do what I do because God has told me to, and He has the power to reward and destroy, as in the first of the three reasons for obedience we talked about earlier in the chapter. That would produce a certain kind of obedience. But isn’t it far more impressive if, like Job, we’re not rewarded right away and we love God anyway? God’s friend Job was able to say, “Though God slay me, yet will I trust Him” (based on Job 13:15).

Lou: That reminds me of the third type of obedience you talked about earlier. If God commands me to do something beyond my present understanding, I can trust Him even when it appears that righteousness is not rewarded.
Two questions: “What is the difference between killing and murdering? Is it because it damages yourself when you hate your brother?” And another person says, “I am confused. `Thou shalt not kill’ is a commandment, and yet God told His people to kill.” Can you touch on these very quickly?

Graham: In both Hebrew and Greek the sixth commandment speaks of murder. “Thou shalt not murder.” Many modern versions are so translated. What’s so bad about murdering is what happens inside. As Jesus said, “He who hates his brother has already done the damage. He is a murderer” (based on Matthew 5:21-24). On the other hand, God has never said, “Go and murder people.” He did instruct His people to kill in battle. But He didn‘t want them to. It‘s very clear. He said, “Let My angel do it. Let Me put My children to sleep.“ He never wanted them to kill at all (see Exod 23:23-30). That too was an emergency measure. But at the end of the millennium God doesn’t violate that law either. Do you think He hates His children as they die? Of course not. He doesn’t even kill them. He watches them die and He cries. God has never violated His Ten Commandments. Never.

Lou: Our next chapter in this series of conversations will be number thirteen, “How God
Treats His Erring Children.”

Graham: For me, that topic is the most convincing evidence of all that God is not arbitrary, exacting, vengeful and severe, and it is evidence in demonstration, not in words. It is about how He treats us when we sin.

The “Why” of Obedience:
Three Options

(1) Because God told me so and He has the power to reward or destroy.
(2) Because God told me so and I love Him and want to please Him.
(3) Because experience has shown what God wants is the right and sensible thing to do. I
want to do it even when I don’t fully understand.

Lou: We’ve been dealing with questions that have come up in a general way. I’d like to move now to several specific questions: “Growing up as an Adventist, I always thought the Sabbath would be one of the big issues at the end of time. Is the Sabbath something we should hold onto as a belief? Is it strong enough to die for, or is it a temporary emergency measure just for the present?”

Graham: That is a very good question. Certainly the Great Controversy is not over which day we worship. It’s over a commitment; it’s over a great truth. And the meaning of the Sabbath speaks of that truth, and that makes it an important issue. Those who meaningfully observe the Sabbath in the last days will be publicly declaring that they worship Christ as their God, and that the Father is just as gracious as the Son. Apart from the meaning of the Sabbath, there’s not a very good answer to that question. But in the light of its meaning, the Sabbath could be a central issue of enormous consequence. And because of its meaning, the Sabbath could be continued through eternity, because of all there would be to remember in the hereafter. It is a monument to freedom.

Lou: The next question is a sample out of many similar questions: “If God’s purpose is to restore a love relationship with His children, how could asking them to kill an animal do this? In my opinion, this would only tend to make people cruel and harden their hearts, rather than create a loving, sympathetic spirit. It would seem to me that it would reflect the cruel spirit of Satan rather than a loving, gracious God.” This question has to do with God’s emergency measures in Old Testament times. What about that?

Graham: Unfortunately, the sacrifices have had that effect. Many people offered a sacrifice in hopes that God would love the smell, forgive them, and bless them. And it became a rather satanic thing. God must have hated this emergency measure and hated that it had to be that dramatic. It was certainly dramatic for Adam when he killed the first lamb in order to be convinced that sin is serious; that it leads to death. I wonder how hard he hit that lamb, and what did he hit it with? Not hard enough to kill it, perhaps, just to hurt it. And he hit it harder. Then blood appeared. He had never seen that before. And Adam turns to God and says, “God, I’m not sure I can go on with this. It’s making me sick.” And God says, “I hope it always makes you sick, every time.”
But people became so accustomed to doing it that the historian Josephus described it as almost like a circus, cutting the animals up and brandishing them as they placed them on the altar to be burned. They were serious about the ritual, but had forgotten the meaning. God chose something that was rather awesome, and sometimes rather horrible, in order to sufficiently impress His people.

Lou: But with all of these risks, why would God go ahead, recognizing that this could happen? Wasn’t there a better way?

Graham: Sometimes we wish the whole Bible would have been written differently and had been a littler clearer. I would say the all wise One used the very best approach possible, and there were always some who did not misunderstand. Some have said, “If you’re the One who sees the little sparrow fall, and you asked us to kill these animals, it must have been necessary to impress us sufficiently.” And the sacrifices were also a foretaste of the Innocent One who would come and die later on.

Lou: Jesus said, “Come to Me all you who labor and I will give you rest.” But then He talks about learning and obedience. Then He says, “My yoke is easy” (based on Matthew 11:28-30). Is this really easy? Is it really light (Matt 11:30)?

Graham: In comparison with the many rules and regulations the Pharisees had, many of which made no sense, it was very light. And yet Jesus said to them, “You have omitted the weightier matters in the law” (Matt 23:23). So in another sense, it’s heavy. Isn’t love weighty and heavy in its importance? So there is a sense in which obedience is not light.
I think what makes God’s commandments light is that they make such good sense. They call for our intelligent obedience, and when I obey something intelligently, I want to do it. It makes sense. It’s dumb not to. And when I want to do it, the burden is gone. The text in Matthew actually calls for complete commitment, but when I want to do it, the “burden” is light (Matt 11:28-30).

Lou: When we try to describe the kind of world we would like to live in, we end up describing the world God has created us for.

Graham: Exactly.

Lou: What is the truth? You’ve been talking about the truth that sets us free. Just remind us again, what is the truth?

Graham: In the legal model, the truth is “we’ve been forgiven and we won’t have to go to hell.” But I think the truth that sets us free is the truth about God, about the kind of person that He is.

Lou: Does forgiving a person set that person free?

Graham: There is a sense in which that’s true, but forgiveness by itself doesn‘t necessarily change the heart. Heaven will not be filled with forgiven crooks.

Lou: But we’re still crooks.

Graham: We’re still crooks. So unless the heart is changed, there will be no real freedom. This again brings up the difference between the legal model and the healing/trust model. Supposing you had to keep rat poison in your house, and you have a young son. And if he touches it and then eats it, he could be very sick, he might even die. So you say, “Son, don’t touch that rat poison. I’m going to put it on the highest shelf, the high and locked cupboard.” A little later you hear a crash in the garage and you run out, and there’s your son lying on the floor. He’s taken the rat poison and he’s dying. Would it do any good at that point to say, “Son, I forgive you, I forgive you!” He would die forgiven, but it wouldn’t keep him from dying. Nor would it do any good to say, “Son, I don’t want you to die, so let me drink the rat poison for you.” Then you would both die. The boy doesn’t need forgiveness. He needs an antidote. He needs healing.
Sin is like that poison. God has said, “You really don’t take Me seriously, do you? Sin is like a poison and will lead to your death. Let Me take the poison and show you.” Jesus dies, and we discover that the poison of sin is real. Nobody’s killing us. Sin is really a poison, and we are dying. And when we realize the truthfulness of God’s warning, we will take Him seriously from then on.
The beauty is that God was then able to take His life back and come out living. He had made His point. There was no legal requirement in that. There was an awesome truth to be revealed. There was nothing arbitrary about it. God does not want us to poison ourselves. We need healing. We need to heed the warning. “The result of sin is death, don’t do this thing.” That’s the healing model, not the legalistic model.

Lou: I want to come back to a basic question that I’ve heard again and again, “Must one obey God’s law to be saved?” You said the law is not a threat to our freedom. But on the other hand, don’t I have to obey it?

Graham: Maybe the safest way to approach that in a brief time is to consider the word “obedience.” The biblical word means “to listen humbly.” As Micah said, “All God asks of us is that we walk humbly before our God” (based on Micah 6:8). The thief on the cross didn’t have much time to live up to the many, many laws that had been used as God’s emergency measures, but he certainly was humbly and gratefully willing to listen to the One in the middle. And he died willing to listen; sincerely, honestly, willing to listen. He will arise in the same frame of mind. He has much to learn, but he’ll be a good disciple. That means he will be willing to listen, to accept instruction, and to accept correction.

Lou: Would it be better, Graham, if instead of, “do you have to obey God’s law to be saved?” I asked, “do you have to listen to be saved?”

Graham: I’d even go beyond that: To obey God’s law is to be loving.

Lou: So do I have to be loving to be saved?

Graham: Jesus said to Nicodemus, “Unless you are born of the Spirit, you will not be saved” (based on John 3:5). And the man who is born of the Spirit, whose fruit is love and truth (Gal 5:22-23), will now have truth in the inner man (Eph 3:16). He will have a new heart and a right spirit (Ezek 36:26-27). Yes, I would say that unless one has at least the beginning of this experience of love and trustworthiness, he or she will not be saved. And that’s from 1 John. “Hereby we know if we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren” (based on 1 John 3:14). I mean, unless we see the beginning of a new regard for each other, we do not have the first symptom of salvation.

Lou: So, are you saying that I have to do this? I’m trying to find out. Is there something I have to do to be saved?

Graham: We’ll cover that in a later chapter, the one on the matter of perfection (Chapter Fourteen). Do I have to be perfect? I would say perfection is not something God demands of us; it is something He offers to us. He says, “I offer you a new heart. I offer you a right spirit. I offer you healing. Do you want it?” If I don’t want it, I’m not savable. In fact the word “save” in the Greek also means “to heal.” If I say I don’t want to be healed, I don’t want to have a loving heart and truth in the inner man, then I don’t want to be saved either. In any case, to put the Ten Commandments on the wall in a mechanical sort of a way is to miss the whole point.

Lou: Let me try it another way. Our subject in this chapter has to do with a threat to our freedom. Now based on what you’ve said, let me ask respectfully: “Am I really free if I have to love and obey; if, as you put it, I need to listen? How can I think I am really free?

Graham: Well, let’s put it this way. If we lived in a society where we didn’t love each other and we couldn’t be trusted, there would be no freedom. There can’t be freedom without trust. There can’t be freedom in a disorderly, chaotic, lawless society. It’s interesting how one can phrase these things in such a way that it sounds like a burden, like a restriction on our freedom.
But what is God asking us to do, anyway? I would say He is asking us to love each other, to be trustworthy, to be safe, to be free. Who would want to turn that down? You say, “Do I have to be free? Do I have to be saved? Do I have to be healthy? Do I have to be well?” God says, “No. I can’t command it, but I can offer it to you.” And some of us say, “I’d like that very much.”

Lou: In the opening part of this chapter, you seem convinced that we need to be attentive to all ten of the commandments. But isn’t a person who is concerned about the law, who thinks a lot about the Ten Commandments, a legalist? Isn’t that the meaning of legalism? A person who thinks about the law? Shouldn’t we be thinking about Jesus rather than about the law?

Graham: When people put it that way, it implies that a loving person is a legalist, since love is the fulfilling of the law. And that doesn’t make sense. So I think we need to consider the real meaning of legalism. I believe that the essence of legalism is preoccupation with our legal standing before a legalistic God. Many Christians are preoccupied with their legal standing, because they don’t really know God. They don’t realize that He is a gracious God who is not preoccupied with our legal standing. Like the father of the prodigal son, He’s very preoccupied with our welfare and whether or not we will come home. So the essence of legalism is preoccupation with one’s legal standing with God.

Lou: Are you saying a person could believe and accept Christ’s sacrifice in such a way that they would in effect be a legalist?

Graham: We should say this very carefully, but I really believe it’s true. If you believe Jesus died primarily to adjust our legal standing with a God who is preoccupied with our legal standing, you are a legalist. And this means that you no longer take the blood of bulls and goats to God to adjust your legal standing (Heb 9:12-14), you now take Him the blood of His Son and say, “Will this adjust my legal standing?” And in that perspective God would say, “That’s good; now you’ve brought me the right blood.” To me, this is legalism.

Lou: So you’re saying that if our purpose in approaching God is to meet a legal requirement, it becomes a matter of legalism.

Graham: I would call that the Devil’s sad perversion. He has actually taken the death of Christ, which is a monument to freedom, and turned it into a ceremony that adjusts our legal standing. In other words, those who misunderstood the ceremonies in Old Testament times, but then became Christians, applied the same misunderstanding to the cross and to the blood of Christ. It’s just that now they had better blood and more persuasiveness with the Father to adjust their legal standing. To me, it sounds terrible to say that. It supports the Devil’s charges that God is arbitrary, exacting, vengeful, unforgiving, and severe. You see, all legalism is based on the concept that God has to execute those who disobey Him. Therefore, it follows that forgiveness will somehow take care of that. And that’s what produces legalism.