THE SEVEN CHRISTIAN GRACES
Dr. W. A. Criswell
2 Peter 1:5-9
3-17-74 10:50 a.m.
This is the pastor,
bringing the message entitled The Seven Christian Graces. In our
preaching through the book of 2 Peter, last Sunday morning we left off with
verse 4. And, today we begin with verse 5 in the first chapter:
And beside this, giving all
diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge;
And to knowledge
temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness;
And to godliness brotherly
kindness; and to brotherly kindness love, charity,
For if these things be in
you, and abound, they make you that you shall neither be barren nor unfruitful
in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.
This is one of the most
meaningful sentences to be found in all God's Holy Word, a sentence that covers
verses 5, 6, and 7. These divine excellences, these Christian endowments,
these beautiful and heavenly graces—they are seven in number, beginning with
faith, then like the scale upward to the octave, ending in love.
Somebody, looking at this
and commenting on it, said what Simon Peter means is that, using faith as a
foundation, we are to perfect ourselves on this first rung—which would be
virtue—and then having completed that, we begin on the second rung of
knowledge, and then up and up and up. Having mastered each one, we go to
the next and to the next.
From the way the King James Version reads, you might
think that: "And beside all this, giving all diligence, add to your faith
virtue; and then add to virtue knowledge; to knowledge temperance," and so
on. That might be possible, looking at it here in this English
version.
But, when you look at it closely, and especially in
its Greek text, as Simon Peter wrote it, there is something other, and beyond,
and else that the apostle has written by inspiration in this beautiful and
meaningful sentence. Instead of being like rungs on a ladder—and having
perfected one, we rise to the next; and having achieved success in that one, we
rise to the next, and so on up—rather what he is saying is that the divine
excellencies are like a rope, or like a cable, with seven strands and they are
intertwined, and they arise out of one another.
They are present
incipiently, initially, embryonically, in the newborn Christian when he's born
into the kingdom of Christ. All of these graces incipiently, initially,
are born in him. They are the genes of the beautiful Christian life and
as the babe grows into strength and finally into maturity, and manhood, these
virtues also grow. They grow out of each other. They're intertwined;
they support each other. And all of them are in us to begin with, and in
cultivation and Christian experience, they become dominant in the beautiful
Christian life.
Now the reason I think that is because of an unusual
word that Simon Peter uses here. You have it translated
"add." Beginning with faith—the great foundation—"add"
to your faith virtue; and to that knowledge; and to that temperance; and to
that patience and godliness. But, you look at that word
"add." It is a very unusual word, and it is a musical
word. The Greeks, as they presented their ancient dramas—and they were
the greatest in the world—as the populace went to see a play by Euripides, or
Aeschylus, or Aristophanes, or any of those incomparable Greek tragedians and
comedians, they developed in their Greek art what the Greeks called in their
word a choros—c-h-o-r-o-s, choros, chi, like a big "X”—and
the choros was a singing group. It was trained to take a part in a
recitative, or in a beautiful song, in the dramatic presentation.
Now from that word choros,
there developed a Greek word chorēgeō, which means “to furnish
it,” “to provide it,” “to supply it.” And that word grew out of a habit
in the ancient , classical world of the government appointing a citizen in the
Greek state, in the Greek city—such as, say, Athens—to train, and to support,
and to supply, and to provide, the choros. A man was assigned the
honor, and he'd have to be an affluent man, of training the choros; of
providing for it, supplying for it, taking care of it.
So, they developed from the
word choros that Greek word chorēgeō—that is, to train
a choros, to lead a choros, to supply a choros, to furnish
a choros. And as time went on, as words get—you know—they move
away from their original birth and become general, so the word chorēgeō
came to mean "to furnish, to supply." It is a musical term, and
thus was used by Simon Peter in speaking of the great groundwork of faith, from
which these beautiful virtues of the Christian life—these divine and heavenly
excellencies—come. They are supplied. They are furnished,
translated here "adding."
Now it intrigues me, to
begin with, the musical word that is used by the inspired Apostle. The
Christian life, if I could follow his imagery, the Christian life is like the
scale. It has a basic note, a keynote, and then seven steps above, till
finally we come to the octave. And if the Christian life is beautifully
lived, it is a song, it is a melody, it is in harmony with the will of
heaven.
I set my wind harp in the
wind,
And the wind came out of
the south.
Soft it blew with gentle
coo,
Like words from a maiden's mouth.
And like the stir of
angels' wings,
It gently touched the
trembling strings.
And all my heart gave back
to me
A wondrous heavenly melody.
I set my harp wind in the
wind,
And the wind blew from the
north so loud.
From the icy north it
hurried forth,
And dark grew sea and
cloud.
It whistled down the
mountain's height;
It smote the quivering
cords with might.
And still my harp gave back
to me
Its wondrous heavenly
melody.
Oh, me, that such a life
were mine:
Responsive, tuned, and
true.
When all was gladness, all
was shined,
Or when the storms of
sorrow blew.
That so amid all the fret
and strife,
The jarring undertones of
life,
My life might rise to God
and me,
One long harmonious
symphony.
[Author
and work unknown]
Wouldn't that be a glorious
benedictory gift from heaven? The life like a harp, and the wind blows
softly from the south or harshly from the north. But, whither it blew—its
soft and gentle touch, or in harsh and tragic stroke—the harp would play back
to God a heavenly symphony filled with the divine excellencies: these beautiful
Christian graces.
You know, it brought to my
mind something some of us have seen in the catacombs in Rome. You would
never think—and so far as I know, this is the only instance I know of in
Christian art or in Christian literature—there is a Greek God who is taken and
depicted as a type of Christ. Now, would you believe that? A pagan,
sensual worship, such as the Greeks employed, a type of our living and glorious
Lord?
Well the picture is this:
It is one of Orpheus, who is playing on his harp, and, around him, are the wild
animals in silent awe and quiet, worshipful wonder. And the picture is of
the young god, the Thracian god of poetry and music, the god Orpheus, a beautiful
young man. And he's seated there, playing on his lyre of five wonderful
strings. And as he plays, there is around him a lion, a bear, a leopard,
a serpent, a tortoise. And up in the trees, there is a peacock and an owl
and other birds. And they're all quiet, listening to Orpheus play and
sing.
A Christian took that and
drew it on the walls of the catacomb that you can see as a type of how our Lord
subdues the violent impulses that are in us. And, as the animal world
becomes quiet, and tame, and worshipful, and silent; so the heart of a man,
touched by the hand of Christ becomes beautiful, and peaceful, and gracious,
and excellent.
That is exactly this here,
beginning with the great foundation of faith. And faith is the prolific
source of all of the Christian graces. It starts there: in trust, in
faith, in committal to God.
You know, in the
seventeenth chapter of the Book of Luke, verses 3 and 4, there is a touch—an
inspired touch—of this that you'd never guess for. It came about when they
were talking about forgiveness and forgiving one another. The Lord said
to His disciples, he said to His apostles, "If a man transgress against
thee—if he do you wrong—forgive him.” And said our Lord, "if a man
transgress against you—do you wrong—seven times in a day, seven times in that
day, you forgive him."
"Oh," said the
disciples. "Oh, when injury follows injury, and trespass on heels of
trespass, we are to forgive the man seven times a day, if he transgresses seven
times a day?"
Do you know what the
exclamation of the apostles was? Wouldn't you have thought they would
have said, "O Lord, if I am to do that, if a man does me wrong seven
times every day and seven times I am to forgive him, O Lord, give me patience,
please. I need it." Or, wouldn't you say, "O God, teach
us the secret of the divine forbearance." Wouldn't you have thought
that?
Do you know what they
said? When the Lord said, "If a man transgress against you seven
times and seven times, you forgive him," the disciples replied, "O
Lord, increase our faith, increase our faith."
Now, why that? That's
the little touch of what inspiration is in the Word of God. Faith is the
foundation, and the fountain, and the road of all of the Christian
excellencies. And the Christian faith does not deal with externals apart
from the great internals that give it birth.
So if we have a great
faith, then the faith grows the tree that bears the fruit. And that is
exactly what the apostle avows here. On the basis of our faith, then, may
these beautiful fruits—these beautiful notes, these symphonies—grow.
“To your faith may there be
furnished arête—arête, translated here "virtue." Arête
is a very much-used word in Greek classical language, and poetry, and
philosophy: arête translated here "virtue." Well when we
read it, we think of moral excellence, which is fine. That's good.
That's fine, but there's a whole lot more in it than that. There's a
whole lot more to arête. There's a whole lot more in virtue than
that. You see, "virtue" comes from the Latin word v-i-r, vir.
They pronounce it “weer,” which is the Latin word for "man." So
v-i-r-t-u-s, “weer-tus,”—which is the way they pronounce it—is “manly,” and it
refers to courage. That is, as a man would face the confrontations and
battles of life, he is to be courageous, not without fear.
You know, the really
courageous man would be a soldier who enters the war, or the fray, not without
fear, but the really courageous soldier would be one who's trembling, his knees
are shaking, his hand is not steady, his face is blanched, he's full of terror,
but he enters the battle just the same. That would be a courageous
soldier, and that is the meaning of the word here.
Our feet may tremble, but
the rock of Christ, on which we stand is immovable. We're to be
courageous in the confrontation. In faith, we're to be aretē—courageous,
manly—conquering fear. Don't be afraid of what the future holds.
Don't be afraid in our death. Don't be afraid in the eternity to come, we're
to face it courageously in the faith of our Lord.
And then we're to add—that
is, to supply—gnōsis, “knowledge,” for it is possible for one to be
zealous and fanatical. Our arête, our virtue, needs to be seasoned
with insight and understanding: Gnōsis, g nōsis.
You know, it's a remarkable
thing. There is a place in the high priestly prayer of our Lord when the
Lord identified that with salvation. Remember what He said; high priestly
prayer of John 17:3: “This is life eternal—this is salvation—that they might
know Thee, the only true and living God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou has
sent."
Spiritual knowledge is a
heavenly gift: spiritually to know that faith is the victory, that prayer
prevails, that it pays to serve Jesus. Oh, what an infinitely precious
knowing, knowledge: gnōsis.
Arête: courage. Gnōsis:
knowledge. “And to knowledge, add temperance”: Enkrateia; enkrateia, translated
“temperance, temperance.” When you use that word "temperance,"
you think of prohibition. "Temperance": Actually, the
word does not refer to liquids any more than it refers to salads.
Actually, the word does not refer to materialities any more than it refers to
inward spiritualities. The word refers to that discipline by which a man
is able to present himself in self-restraint, in continence, before God.
It is possible for a man to
conquer the whole world and not conquer himself. There never was a
general in Roman days, or in modern days, there never was a warrior that
compared with Alexander the Great. In ten short years he conquered the
entire civilized world, and yet, he died at thirty-three years of age in a
drunken orgy in Babylon: Conquered the world, and then lost himself.
That's so easily
possible. All of you who are interested in sports remember the story of
John L. Sullivan, who was the pugilistic heavyweight champion of the world and
fought in a day when it was bare-knuckled—there were no gloves—and fought
sometimes for 72 rounds. There was no end to it. They fought till
there was a victor.
John L. Sullivan was one of
the great athletes of all time, and unchallenged during the days when he was
champion of the world. As time went on, John L. Sullivan turned aside from
the discipline of an athlete, and he began to waste his life in drink and
debauchery. There came, in the providence of life, a sickly young fellow
by the name of Jim Corbett. As a child, Jim Corbett was small and
anemic. But, he trained, and he trained, and he disciplined
himself. And he got ready and upon a day, he challenged John L. Sullivan,
the pugilistic champion of the world. And John L. Sullivan—in the bars
and in the saloons, and among his henchmen—John L. Sullivan said, "Why,
with one blow of my fist, I'll pulverize him." He said, "In the
first round, I'll flatten him on the canvas."
And when that battle was
fought between John L. Sullivan and Jim Corbett, it went on for round, after
round, after round, after round, after round, for hours. And when it was
over, John L. Sullivan lay flat on the mat and Jim Corbett was the champion of
the world.
Something great happened
out of that, and that's the reason I use it as an illustration. When John
L. Sullivan stood up, he apologized to the world for his drunkenness and his
debauchery. And from that day on, until he died, he gave his whole life
speaking to young people, and to college kids, and to high school kids, and to
civic meetings, pleading for temperance, and for continence, and for
discipline. And one of the reasons the Eighteenth Amendment was added to
the Constitution—the prohibition amendment—was because of the crusading of John
L. Sullivan.
That's what this refers
to. In our lives, it is a Christian virtue for a man to be self-contained
and continent, for a man to bridle those lusts on the inside of his soul and
life that lead him to debauchery and ruin.
And adding to temperance,
adding patience—hupomonē— a “bearing up under.” And, the last
three are a triumvirate: and adding to these eusebeia: “godliness”; and Philadelphia,
“brotherly kindness”; and agapē, which is a God kind of love.
I have no opportunity and
time except just to speak of the last: the octave, the highest note—starting in
faith and ending in agapē. There are three words used in the
ancient Greek world for “love.” One is eros. There was a God
of love called Eros. It's a strange thing: that word, as common in
the Greek language and as common in the Greek literature as your word for “love”
is today—Love—It is never found in the Word of God, not once. The word, eros,
referred to carnal love, lust, and was much used in the ancient
world. Eros: It's never found in the Bible.
The second word for love is
philos, and this you will find in the Bible many times. Philos
is the love of friends. Phileō is to love as a friend.
Two friends would love each other—phileō—philos is the love of
friendship.
There is another word that
is used in the Holy Scriptures, translated here "charity." In
the thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians, the King James translators used
that word "charity" from the Latin caritas, which means a holy,
and virtuous, and heavenly love: Charity, caritas—agapē.
It's a love like God's love. Not limited to friendship, but a love that
covers the whole earth, including our enemies and those who do us wrong: agapē,
God's love.
In the ancient world, in
the long ago, in the first Christian century, outside of Ephesus and on the
road to Phrygia, there lived a Christian saint by the name of Trophimus.
Why, they said Trophimus knew the apostle Paul! Oh, and they said Trophimus
knew the sainted John! And in his age, Trophimus, the Christian, lived in a
little cottage by the side of the road, and there did he humbly witness to the
love and goodness of Jesus. He even had a well of water, and a bucket to
draw it from the deeps; in order that the weary traveler might be refreshed
with a cool drink of water. He even had bread in the house, and when a
sojourner passed by, famished with the long, long journey, he had bread for the
sojourner to eat. Not only that, but when eventide came and the sun was
westering in the sky, Trophimus had a place in the little cottage where the
wayfarer could rest for the night.
Upon a day, down the road
and toward the evening, there came three armored Roman soldiers with their
swords and with their armor. And they stopped at the humble home of
Trophimus. And Trophimus asked them why their haste, and why their
journey, and why their armor.
And they replied,
"Under the mandated order of the Emperor Caesar himself, we have been sent
on a mission to find a violent and a dangerous man by the name of
Trophimus. “Why," said the Roman soldiers, "they say he is a
Christian. He blasphemes, he refuses to bow before the image of the Roman
emperor himself, and we are sent on a mission to find him and to execute him on
the spot."
"Oh," said
Trophimus, "he is a Christian."
"Yes," said the
Roman soldiers, "he is a Christian and a dangerous man, and guilty of
treason against the government: he refused to worship before the image of the
Caesar."
"And you say he is a
vile, and a violent man, and a dangerous man?"
"Yes," said the
soldiers, "and we have orders to slay him, execute him on the
spot."
Trophimus replied,
"You need no further go. Rest for the night, and I will deliver this
dangerous Trophimus to you in the morning."
So he gave drink, and he
gave meat to the three Roman legionnaires for garden in the evening and then a
place for them to rest in the night. And while the three Roman soldiers
slept, Trophimus went to his little flower garden, back of the cottage home,
and dug a grave. The next morning, after the soldiers had breakfasted and
after they had refreshed themselves, Trophimus said to the three, "Come
with me, and I will deliver into your hands this Christian,
Trophimus."
So, he led them to the
little flower garden, and standing by the open grave, he said, "You seek
the Christian, Trophimus? I that speak unto thee am he. I but ask
that you bury me in the midst of my flowers." And he bowed his head
for the stroke of the sword.
That's why, in history, you
will read that the early Christians out-lived, and out-died, and out-loved the
whole Greco-Roman world. They turned it on its very hinges. They
changed the course of history. They remembered the word of their Savior:
"Bless them that curse you, do good to them who despitefully use you, and
pray for them who persecute you that you may be like your Father, who is in
heaven." That is agapē love, the love of God, and the
crowning virtue of the sainted Christian. How sweet a way, how precious
the road once followed, and loved, and traveled by the disciple of Christ:
you.
In a moment we stand to
sing our hymn of appeal. And while we sing it, in the balcony round, a
family you; on this lower floor, a family you; a couple you, there or here; or
just one somebody you, while we sing the hymn and while we press the appeal,
would you come? Make the decision now. Make it now, in your
heart.
And, when we stand up to
sing, stand up, coming down that stairway, walking down that aisle: "Here
I am, Pastor. I'm putting my life with your people. I'm taking the
Lord as my Savior." However God shall press the appeal to your
heart, answer with your life. Do it now, come now, while we stand and
while we sing…
.