It is good to recognise where dangers lie. Dangers are, after all, dangerous. Signs on cliffs that point out the danger of going too close to the edge or falling rocks are there so that we can be aware of the potential dangers that exist. These are not bad signs, but good ones aiming at keeping us safe.
But much as it is good to recognise danger, we have to accept that almost every activity comes with some level of danger. Having electricity in our house leads to the potential danger of electrocution. Having water in our house leads to the potential danger of flooding. Having a car might mean you crash. If safety is our number one goal – indeed, it is the only goal – then the solution is obvious. Don’t have water or electricity in your house and don’t drive a car. Much safer! Except, it is not very practicable, will make our life harder in a number of ways and doesn’t account for other dangers that still exist.
For example, we could remove electricity, water and cars from our lives but that doesn’t stop the possibility of roofs caving in and bricks falling down. Perhaps we would be safer not sleeping in a building like that at all? Only, other dangers lurk outside the building from which the building protects us. For every possible danger we eliminate, we find other dangers lurk without it. In a sense, you cannot escape danger.
Some would argue on that basis that we should minimise risk. We only do the least risky things possible without failing to do the things we need to do. We keep as far away as possible from those things that are unnecessarily risky. But one man’s necessity is another man’s luxury. More to the point, whilst keeping as far away from a cliff edge as possible sounds right, what if there are wonderful views to be had if we just got a bit closer to see them? Don’t we have to weigh the risk against the possible reward? And, as we said before, eliminating one risk might well keep us from one danger, but it doesn’t factor in not only the benefits of taking the risk that we might miss out on but also fails to account for the other dangers inevitably caused by not taking this particular risk.
The truth is, very few of us actually live our lives this way. We weigh risk. We recognise that the potential of certain danger s actually occurring are quite low compared to others. We put precautions in place to avoid the specific danger whilst still enjoying the benefit of the thing itself. So, we have breaker boxes and trip switches installed so we can enjoy the benefits of electricity whilst mitigating the risk of fires. We put water into our houses but install stopcocks so we can turn it off if there is a problem. We drive cars and create traffic laws and follow the rules and drive in particular ways to manage the risk of a crash. We weigh the risk of living in a house that might fall down against the risk of sleeping on the streets and we take precautions to – as far as possible – ensure the bricks and mortar stay standing. We can’t totally eliminate risks, but we can manage it, take precautions to make the dangers less likely to occur and weight any possible risk against the risks that might happen if we don’t do this thing.
Now, you knew this wasn’t really going to be about day to day risk management. This is just something we do all the time. This is really my extended illustration of why, when we are discussing morals, ethics and how we live our lives as Christians one of the most pernicious arguments of all is when people begin, ‘the danger is…’
Very rarely does anybody use ‘the danger is…’ when we are discussing matters of sin. They don’t say, for example, ‘you don’t want to murder that person because the danger is – apart from going to prison and all the natural consequences – it says something very serious about your walk with God.’ You ultimately shouldn’t do it because it is sinful and God actively does not want you to do it. We don’t really need any other arguments. God says it is immoral and wrong, it is therefore immoral and wrong and ought not to be done. QED.
Of course, it’s obvious with issues like murder. It’s perhaps less obvious with issues of sin that some are keen not to call sin. Someone might think it is legitimate to marry and unbeliever as a Christian. I think that is something the Bible tells us pretty clearly not to do. As one who thinks that is sinful, I would not argue with ‘the danger is…’ I would instead argue, ‘God as said’. It isn’t ultimately different to the issue of murder so far as the grounds is concerned. It doesn’t really matter what the danger is, what matters is whether God has said it is acceptable or not. If I think he has said it is unacceptable, then I am going to tell you not to do it – not because I think there are specific dangers you need to be aware of (though there may be some) – but because ultimately God has said it is wrong, it is not to be done and therefore it should not be done. Sin is what it is and ought not to be done.
Most people argue this way. If God has said something is wrong, and we’re talking to Christians about matters of right and wrong, we simply point to what God says. We call it sin and we have done with it. There is no more to discuss. Christians ought to not sin, God says this is sin, we therefore ought not to do this. There is no further argument to be made.
So when do people use ‘the danger is…’ arguments? Almost always when God has NOT said this is sinful. Almost always when something IS NOT sinful but the person arguing the point think you should not do this thing regardless. They can’t just point to what God has said and tell you it is sinful because God hasn’t said it is sinful so, instead, they point out various possible dangers of doing the thing that God hasn’t called sin.
Now, to be fair, it can be helpful to be aware of possible dangers. It is not, for example, sinful to drink alcohol but it can be helpful to be aware of the dangers of drinking too much. If all that is being said is that we ought to be careful when we drink so that we don’t get drunk, all well and good. But that isn’t usually what is being said. What is usually being said is something like, the danger of drinking is getting drunk so you ought not to drink to avoid drunkenness. You can, of course, swap drinking with any number of other non-sinful things that might lead to actual sin if done in excess (like eating) or in the wrong context (like sex) or in the wrong way (like worship).
When ‘the danger is…’ arguments are wheeled out, you might push back that though there is a possible danger it doesn’t make the thing itself a problem. We can’t call drinking, eating, sex or worship sinful just because there is inherent danger in doing any of those things that might lead to sin. If you are so impertinent as to suggest that, ‘the danger is…’ people will fire back: If you are still happy to do this knowing the danger you are perhaps indulging an unholy desire to live in the ‘grey areas’ of scripture and go as close to the line as possible rather than keeping as far away from sin as possible. In other words, doing a thing that isn’t sin speaks to a mind that wants to cosy up to sin which is ultimately ungodly and probably needs repenting of. If ‘the danger is…’ doesn’t stop you doing it, it is proof (so it is assumed) that you want to coddle sin or make yourself sin-adjacent and this, they aver, is not the attitude of a genuine believer.
There is a word for this sort of reasoning. It is called Pharisaism. This is precisely what the Pharisees did in scripture. They would recognise where sin lay and then fence the fences to keep people as far away from sin as possible. They were so effective in keeping people as far away from the line as possible that Jesus said ‘tie up heavy loads that are hard to carry and put them on people’s shoulders’ (Matt 24:4). They create so many rules and regulations – doing nothing to help people with them – turning God’s law into an unbearable burden. Their extra-biblical laws became burdensome, wearying and unbearable.
But that is precisely what we do to people when we go beyond ‘God says’ and start arguing ‘the danger is…’ We’re fencing God’s fences and putting in extra-biblical regulations in order to keep people as far away from the sinful line as possible. We’re even suggesting God has not adequately laid the lines; he needs our help to keep people from real sin by adding our shoulds and should nots by pointing out the danger of the sin that lies beyond should they blast through our extra-biblical laws that do not rest on what God has said but on ‘the danger is…’
What is more, we may keep people from enjoying many of the benefits of what God has given us to enjoy in a bid to keep them much further away than God feels the need to keep us from what he has said we ought not to do. We aren’t called to be ascetics because of the danger of food and drink; we aren’t called to be celibate because of the dangers of sex; we aren’t called to never take medicine because of the danger of drugs; we aren’t called to homogenous churches because of the danger of cultural divisions. The list could go on and on. These are all things that can be enjoyed or from which benefit might be drawn that God does not call sinful. The dangers may be there, but those dangers do not stop us from enjoying or benefiting from these things in the right context and in the right way. Anyone fencing these lines to keep us as far away as possible from them is stopping us from enjoying or benefiting from many of God’s good gifts and is calling evil what God specifically calls good. It is, at heart, Pharisaism that adds regulations where God has given none.
Colossians 2 deals with exactly this sort of thing:
4 I am saying this so that no one will deceive you with arguments that sound reasonable…
16 Therefore, don’t let anyone judge you in regard to food and drink or in the matter of a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath day. 17 These are a shadow of what was to come; the substance is Christ. 18 Let no one condemn you by delighting in ascetic practices and the worship of angels, claiming access to a visionary realm. Such people are inflated by empty notions of their unspiritual mind. 19 They don’t hold on to the head, from whom the whole body, nourished and held together by its ligaments and tendons, grows with growth from God.
20 If you died with Christ to the elements of this world, why do you live as if you still belonged to the world? Why do you submit to regulations: 21 “Don’t handle, don’t taste, don’t touch”? 22 All these regulations refer to what is destined to perish by being used up; they are human commands and doctrines. 23 Although these have a reputation for wisdom by promoting self-made religion, false humility, and severe treatment of the body, they are not of any value in curbing self-indulgence.
Many of ‘the danger is…’ arguments might sound reasonable. Don’t you want to keep as far away from sin as possible? Don’t you think those who would be holy won’t want to go anywhere near? But the truth is, it is to say that God has not laid his lines carefully enough. It is to add rules where God has put none. It is to stop us enjoying and benefiting from some things that God would gladly give us to enjoy and benefit from. It is to lay burdens on people and do little to help them. It may have the appearance of godliness but it is, in fact, Pharisaism. If we want to avoid that danger, we need to stop with ‘the danger is…’