“Whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Matt. 7:12
In this verse we find what has come to be called the ‘Golden Rule’: “Whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them.” This is, as our Lord says, the sum of the Old Testament, “the Law and the Prophets.” Now there are some in more liberal circles who have made this Golden Rule out to be the sum, not just of the Old Testament, but of all of Christianity. Some would even make this Golden Rule out to be the sum of all religions. It is the ‘categorical imperative’ which binds all men; it is the kernel hidden in the husk of all religiosity; it is the one needful thing.
This conclusion is reached by pointing out (rightly) that this Golden Rule is not original to Jesus. Jesus Himself implies that this is the case, seeing as it’s already present in the Old Testament (e.g., Lev. 19:18). But it’s also found in pretty much every other ethical tradition down through history, even to our own day. It was a common principle in ancient Greek philosophy; for instance, a Pythagorean philosopher taught: “What you do not want to happen to you, do not do it yourself either.” In Buddhism, too, there was a saying, “Hurt not others in ways that you yourself would find hurtful.” And Confucius, echoing the same moral principle, says, “What you do not wish for yourself, do not do to others.” We could keep going if we wanted, and add several other sayings from several other cultures and traditions; we could even include the present motto we find plastered all over our world, the motto that urges us to “Be kind.”
So it’s clear that this Golden Rule is not unique to Christianity. But does it follow that Christianity is, therefore, simply just a reiteration of what came before it, or of what is present in other religions and cultures? Is Christianity—as liberalism would have it—simply one in a series of moralisms all saying the same thing? Now, your gut should tell you, absolutely No—and it’s right. But let’s think through why it’s right. We can begin with a little thought-experiment.
Take a frat guy who loves beer. In fact, he loves beer far too much. He’s a drunkard, and all of his friends are right there with him drinking along. Now, how does this Golden Rule exhort these young men? Does it call them, as we would, away from such debauchery? Well, not exactly. It calls them to love their neighbor as themselves. They hear this. They agree with it. And they give their friend another beer. They pour out shots for him. Why? Because that’s what they would want him to do for them.1
Take another instance, one we see playing out all around us. In the LGBTQRS community, what do they suppose they’re doing? They’re loving one another. They’re being kind. They are doing unto one another what they would have others do unto them. They are a confusion of unnatural desires, and they would have others to encourage them in these desires—not shame them, or rebuke them, or hinder them in anyway. And so this becomes a law, according to the Golden Rule, for how they treat others. They encourage others as they themselves would like to be encouraged.
From these two scenarios, what do we find is the result of this moral maxim being applied to fallen man? It is more sin, more corruption, more fallenness. If this is the sum of Christianity, then Christianity, like all other ethical traditions, has no redemption to offer. It can only draw out of men what is already inside of them—which, as we can plainly see, is nothing we want to see.
Does this mean, then, that the Golden Rule bad? Certainly not. But men are generally bad, and the Golden Rule cannot rise higher than the heart of the person obeying it. When a man’s desires are pure and good, then the Golden Rule is established in righteousness. The man treats others how he wants to be treated, and the result is genuine good—good as God defines it. If he loves what is true and noble and just and pure and lovely and virtuous and praiseworthy, then this right ordering of his loves will rightly guide him in his interactions with everybody around him. But if he loves sin, the result is just more sin—it’s the cultural degeneration going on all around us. In either case, the Golden Rule cannot save. The Golden Rule is law, and law cannot save.
The good news is that Christianity is not simply law. It is not summed up by the Golden Rule. The central proclamation of Christ-ianity is that Christ can save. And He does so, not by drawing out what’s inside of us, or guiding us as a moral teacher and exemplar. Jesus saves by addressing the root problem—namely, our corrupt nature. He forgives our sin. He reconciles us to God. And then He renovates our inner man so that we are renewed in our thinking and reordered in our loves. He makes the tree good, and then the tree bears good fruit. This means that the Christian is not simply someone who follows the teachings and example of Jesus Christ, as a Buddhist might follow the teachings and example of Siddhartha Gautama. The Christian is one who is being renewed by the living Jesus, so that his heart actually begins to operate correctly. The Christian is one who, with increasing accuracy, rightly fulfills the Golden Rule by treating others how Christ would treat them, for his desires are becoming conformed to the desires of Christ.
I am indebted to J. Gresham Machen for this illustration—in his Christianity & Liberalism, p. 32.