In his High Priestly Prayer, Jesus—on the eve of his crucifixion—enunciated a paradox that succinctly captures the tension of living as a Christian in the present age. Speaking of believers, he prayed, “they are in the world,” and yet, “they are not of the world” (John 17.11, 14). In, but not of: This is the tension all Christians face in every age as they seek to believe in and remain faithful to God.
In: All Christians live in the world. We do not inhabit some sanctified space that sets us apart from the unbelieving world. There is no territorial boundary line between Christianland and Nonchristianland. Oh sure, in centuries past, Christians tried to set up “Christendom,” a geopolitical realm in which the Word of God was the law of the land, but—whatever its minor successes—Christendom was a major failure. Why? Because as it grew in wealth and power, it grew to love wealth and power and so became quite worldly. It was both “in” and “of” the world.
But Christians are called to be “not of the world.” Where orthodox belief and Christian values conflict with the beliefs and values of the world, Christians must make the countercultural choice to obey God rather than man. Such a choice marks us out as “peculiar people” (1 Peter 2.9, KJV; cf. Deuteronomy 14.2). But in that very peculiarity lays our salvation.
Revelation 18.4–8 picks up on the “in, but not of theme” by inviting believers to “Come out of her, my people.” The her being referred to is, of course, Babylon/Rome—the City of Man that sets itself in opposition to the City of God. Again, this has nothing to do with geographical separation. First-century Christians never left Rome. They stayed in place, striving to believe and live in very un-Roman, unworldly ways.
Why is spiritual separation important? Two reasons: “lest you take part in her sins, lest you share in her plagues.” The “voice from heaven” is driving home the point that being “in” the world contaminates one’s character and invites divine judgment. Babylon/Rome—the City of Man—has sinned so greatly that the voice from heaven announces, “her sins are heaped high as heaven, and God has remembered her iniquities.”
How, then, do we live in, but not of, the world? We examine what Babylon does, and do the opposite. First, “she glorified herself.” The Christian life begins and ends with God, not self. The Westminster Shorter Catechism famously asks, “What is the chief end of man?” It answers, “to glorify God and enjoy him forever.” Rather than living self-centered lives, Christians ought to live God-centered lives, humbly acknowledging him as the source of and authority over our lives. That way lays the path of divine blessing.
Second, Babylon/Rome “lived in luxury.” There is nothing wrong with wealth per se, of course. Throughout the Bible, abundance is often portrayed as a source of divine blessing. And yet, as Paul so eloquently put it, “the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils” (1 Timothy 6.10). In the case of Babylon/Rome, wealth was both unjustly gained and immorally used. Christians will be careful to gain their wealth through honest work and use their wealth for noble purposes.
Finally, Babylon/Rome was impenitent: “I sit as a queen, I am no widow; and mourning I shall never see.” The Christian life, by contrast, is filled with mourning. We mourn our brokenness and alienation from God. We mourn the sins that require daily repentance. And we mourn over the lostness of our neighbors. And yet, even those tears are merely prelude to that great day when God “will wipe away ever tear from their eyes” (Revelation 21.4).
Humble God-centeredness, the strategic use of wealth, and hopeful mourning are thus three marks of Christians as we strive to live in, but not of, the world.
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