Professor: Dr. Wayne Cook | Director: Dr. Ted RogersProfesor: Dr. Wayne Cook | Director: Dr. Ted Rogers
"Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." — 1 Corinthians 10:31 (NKJV)[ES — RVG pendiente Gate 1: 1 Corintios 10:31]
Welcome to Pastoral & Christian Ethics. Please register before beginning Unit 1.Bienvenido a Ética Pastoral y Cristiana. Por favor regístrese antes de comenzar la Unidad 1.
Every man who stands to preach is already an ethicist, whether he has ever used the word or not. The moment he tells a congregation what they ought to do, he has made a claim about right and wrong, and behind that claim stands some authority. The only question is which one. So before we ever ask what is the right thing to do, we have to ask a deeper question: who has the right to tell me what right is? That question is where Christian ethics begins, and it is where it parts ways with almost everything the world will offer you.
Let me give you the plain definition first and then unfold it. Christian ethics is the disciplined study of how God's people are to live, judged by the standard of God's own character as He has revealed it in His Word. Notice what that definition does. It does not start with us. It does not start with what feels right, what works, or what the majority has decided. It starts with God — with who He is — and it measures every action against Him. Ethics, for the believer, is not the search for a standard. The standard has already been given. Ethics is the careful, prayerful work of learning to live inside it.
Why is such a study necessary? You might think that a man who loves God and reads his Bible would simply know how to act, and to a degree that is true. But Scripture itself assumes otherwise. Paul prays that the Philippians' love would "abound still more and more in knowledge and all discernment, that you may approve the things that are excellent" (Philippians 1:9–10). Discernment is not automatic. It is trained. The writer of Hebrews rebukes believers who ought to be teachers but still need milk, because "solid food belongs to those who are of full age, that is, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil" (Hebrews 5:14). Hear that phrase — by reason of use. Ethical maturity is not a gift dropped on the new convert. It is the fruit of exercise, of practice, of a mind drilled again and again in the things of God until it can tell good from evil the way a trained ear tells a true note from a flat one.
And what is it all for? Here the world and the church diverge completely. The world studies ethics to make society function, to keep people from destroying one another, to be happy. None of those are bad things. But they are not the goal. The goal of Christian ethics is the glory of God. "Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" (1 Corinthians 10:31). That single verse reorders the entire enterprise. We do not pursue holiness to feel good about ourselves, or even mainly to help others, though it will do both. We pursue it because a holy God is worthy of a holy people, and because every right thing we do puts His character on display before a watching world. Ethics is worship with our hands and feet.
Everything I have just said hangs on one conviction, and if that conviction goes, the whole structure comes down. The conviction is this: that Scripture is the very Word of God, and therefore carries God's own authority over how we live.
"All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work."2 Timothy 3:16–17 (NKJV)
Read that passage slowly, because Paul packs an entire doctrine of ethics into two verses. Scripture is God-breathed — it comes out of the mouth of God as surely as breath comes out of yours. That is its authority. And then notice the four uses Paul gives it: doctrine teaches us what is true, reproof shows us where we have gone wrong, correction sets us back on the path, and instruction in righteousness trains us to walk that path going forward. Teaching, rebuking, correcting, training — that is the full motion of a life being shaped by the Word. And mark the result Paul aims at: that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work. The Word is not merely sufficient to save us. It is sufficient to form us. There is no good work for which Scripture leaves the man of God unequipped.
This is what we mean by the sufficiency of Scripture, and for the pastor it is not an abstraction. It means that when a couple sits across from you with a marriage in pieces, when a young man confesses an addiction he cannot break, when an elder asks how the church should handle a member in open sin — you are not thrown back on your own cleverness or the latest book of techniques. You have a Word from God that is living and powerful, that judges the thoughts and intents of the heart (Hebrews 4:12), and that is able to make the man of God complete. The world will tell you that the Bible is an old book with nothing to say to modern problems. The man who has actually used it in the trenches of ministry knows better.
Now, I want to be careful here, because the authority of Scripture is often misunderstood as a claim that the Bible gives a direct verse for every situation. It does not. There is no chapter and verse on whether to take a particular job or which medical treatment to pursue for a dying parent. But the sufficiency of Scripture does not mean Scripture answers every question by direct command; it means Scripture gives us everything we need — the truth about God, about ourselves, about right and wrong, and the wisdom of a renewed mind — to discern how to honor God in every situation. The Bible is not a card catalog of answers. It is the authoritative foundation on which all right reasoning is built.
To see what we have, it helps to see clearly what the world offers in its place. Strip away the labels and the academic vocabulary, and the world's ethical systems nearly all share one feature: they locate the standard somewhere inside the creation rather than in the Creator. Some locate it in consequences — an act is right if it produces good outcomes. Some locate it in reason — right is whatever a rational person would universally will. Some locate it in the self — right is whatever is authentic to who I am. And the spirit of our age locates it nowhere at all, in the relativism that says there is no fixed right and wrong, only your truth and my truth.
I am not asking you to dismiss these systems as if they contained nothing true. The man who studies consequences is right that actions have results and that love considers them. The relativist has correctly noticed that human judgments are fallible and culturally shaped. The error is never that these views see nothing; the error is where they finally rest their weight. They rest it on the creature. And a standard built on the creature can be no more stable, no more holy, and no more authoritative than the creature himself — which is to say, not very. The most honest secular thinkers admit this. Cut the moral law loose from God and you are left, in the end, with preference dressed up as principle.
Here is the heart of the matter, and I want you to feel its weight as a pastor and not merely understand it as a student. Relativism cannot be lived. The man who tells you there is no objective right and wrong will, the moment you wrong him, appeal to a justice he claims does not exist. He cannot help it, because he is made in the image of God and the work of the law is written on his heart (Romans 2:15). This is your great point of contact with a lost world. You are not importing a foreign morality into people who have none. You are calling them back to the One whose law they already know in their conscience and have spent their lives suppressing. The relativist is not your opponent so much as your mission field, and the law he cannot escape is the schoolmaster meant to bring him to Christ.
Let me close this first unit by speaking to you directly about why this study matters for you in particular, more than for almost any other man in your congregation. There are at least three reasons, and each one should land on you with some weight.
The first is that you are held to a higher account. "My brethren, let not many of you become teachers, knowing that we shall receive a stricter judgment" (James 3:1). The man who teaches others how to live has taken up a burden the ordinary believer has not. God will not grade you on a curve because the work was hard. The teacher is judged as a teacher. That should sober you every time you open the Book to instruct another soul.
The second is that you lead by example, not merely by instruction. Peter charges the elders to shepherd the flock "being examples to the flock" (1 Peter 5:3). Paul can say to the Corinthians, with no false modesty, "Imitate me, just as I also imitate Christ" (1 Corinthians 11:1). This is the heaviest and most searching part of pastoral ethics, and I have said something like it about preaching for years: it is not finally something you do, it is something you are. You can preach a sermon you have not lived, but you cannot pastor a people you are not. The congregation will absorb your character far more deeply than your words, and where the two contradict each other, your character will win the argument every time. A man may forget your finest sermon by Tuesday; he will never forget the year he watched how you treated your wife, or how you handled the deacon who opposed you, or what you did when no one but God was looking.
The third reason is the simplest and the most often forgotten. You pursue ethical formation because the gospel demands it of you as it demands it of every believer — not as the price of your salvation, which Christ has paid in full, but as its proper fruit. "We are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them" (Ephesians 2:10). You were not saved by your good works, but you were most certainly saved for them. The whole of this course rests on that order and never reverses it: grace first, always first, and then the holy life that grace produces. Keep that order straight and ethics becomes the joyful study of how a forgiven man learns to walk worthy of the One who bought him. Reverse it, and ethics curdles into a law that crushes. We will be careful, all the way through, to keep it straight.
Certificate students: Answer 1–20. M.Div. / Th.M. students: Answer all 30. 90% required to pass. If you don't pass, review the lesson and try again after a short pause. Certificado: 1–20. M.Div. / Th.M.: las 30. 90% para aprobar. Si no aprueba, repase la lección y vuelva a intentarlo tras una breve pausa.