Recently, I read an interesting interpretation of Bob Dylan’s song Jokerman. The line: “freedom, just around the corner from you / But with truth so far off, what good will it do?” can be interpreted as a distinction between true and false freedom. People do not want true freedom— they want happiness. True freedom entails moral responsibility. We trade that freedom of moral responsibility for false freedom, where we are free from obligation and free to indulge in selfish pursuits.
I believe I have found a way to cheat this trade-off. I have successfully merged these two freedoms by enjoying life while I work with the poor. To embrace moral responsibility, I meet their basic needs: food, clothing, medicine, etc. I temporarily assimilate them into a life of comfort and enjoy that comfort with them. I give them something morally good, but they go back to poverty while I go back to sports, entertainment, and a comfortable American lifestyle. It’s self-serving, but it benefits others. One of the biggest criticisms in much (not all) of what I do is its temporary nature. It has no long-term fix. It meets immediate needs but makes the poor dependent on the giver and perpetuates the cycle of poverty. Guilty as charged. Yet I still do it, highlighting the problem. Others laud the good works and ignore my underlying selfishness.
The original title was Depravity Disguised as Good Works, but I felt the word depravity was too harsh to describe my basic selfishness. However, Reformed Doctrine’s definition of Total Depravity fits what I Im trying to express. It’s not like I Im as bad as I can be, but my inner selfishness is complete: I don’t do anything purely out of unselfish motives. I do all my acts of kindness because I get something out of them. While I firmly believe that human nature is corrupt from sin, I have my own struggles with parts of the doctrine. According to Calvinism, unregenerate human nature cannot do good works because any acts come from a selfish motive. This is from AI:
“Because their underlying nature is entirely corrupted by original sin, an unregenerate person cannot do anything truly good in God’s sight. While an unbeliever can perform actions that are externally or socially good (civil righteousness)—such as feeding the poor, loving their children, or obeying traffic laws—these actions fail a crucial spiritual test: They do not flow from a heart wrapped in love for God or faith in Jesus Christ. They are not done to glorify God, but to preserve oneself, gain social praise, or feel a false sense of self-righteousness. The Westminster Confession of Faith states that because these works do not proceed from a heart purified by faith, “they are therefore sinful, and cannot please God.” Saint Augustine famously called the virtuous deeds of unbelievers nothing more than “splendid sins.”
However, when God regenerates a person, He changes their heart, implants the Holy Spirit, and grants them saving faith. Only after this transformation can a person perform works that God considers truly good. Even the good works of a regenerate Christian are imperfect and stained with residual sin in this life. However, because the believer is clothed in the righteousness of Jesus, God looks at their imperfect good works through Christ and graciously accepts and rewards them. These works now flow from a genuine love for God, a desire to obey Him, and a motivation to bring Him glory.”
Given my Christian background and influences, I get the idea that after regeneration, I do “good works” to please God. It is very unlikely I would be running a humanitarian aid organization if I were not a Christian. However, Im convinced that even with so-called regeneration, all my motives are still purely selfish. This goes back to a reference I made in another blog about Mother Teresa, who reportedly said she is the greediest person alive, because she helps others for the feeling of kindness it gives her.
According to the definition of regeneration above. I can’t judge my actions by how they feel. I need to accept that, because of my faith, God accepts and rewards my “imperfect good works.” Of course, in my “heresy,” I feel that good works will win the cause of many we believe are unregenerate, too.
