Reflecting God’s Goodness

We’ve been thinking about Paul’s words in Galatians 5:22–23: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.”

Today, we are at the end of the second triad: patience, kindness, goodness. Many of the questions philosophers have asked over the centuries have been about the true, the good, and the beautiful, what we call epistemology (How do we know things?), aesthetics (How do we assess things?), and ethics (What is the good life? And what, after all, do we mean when we say “good”?).

If you studied moral philosophy at college, that question will probably conjure up some of the different answers philosophers have given to the questions “What is good?” and “What is the good life?” What principles, therefore, should guide our decisions and our actions? Is goodness objective? Or is it, as people sometimes say about beauty, only in the eye of the beholder? That certainly seems to be a common enough view today, isn’t it? Good is what I like, what I think is good for me, what I think will make me happy. But that’s not an option for a Christian, is it?

So, where do we begin untangling this twisted ball of philosophical wool? Now, the answer is where we always should begin: with God. Psalm 34 is instructive here. It urges us in verse 8, “Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good.” But what does that mean? It isn’t easy to answer in just a few words, is it? In fact, the Bible uses the word “good” in a variety of ways. That means that something is attractive, that it’s free from defects, that it’s morally upright, that it’s simply just right, as it should be. Ultimately, of course, it means that something expresses and reflects God’s character and will because He is good. Everything He created was good. When He spoke it into being, the whole creation was very good.

John Calvin used to speak about the world being the theater of God’s glory, but when He created it, the world was also the theater of God’s goodness. So, when we say that someone is good or exhibits the quality of goodness, what we’re saying, ultimately, is that they’re living as the image of God should, reflecting His character in their words and actions and atmospheres. God is perfect goodness in Himself, and we were created as reflected goodness.

Apart from the young ruler addressing Jesus as “Good Master,” it’s not often that anyone is called good in the New Testament. But one man who was is Joseph of Arimathea, the man who went to Pontius Pilate and asked if he could have permission to take Jesus’ body away for burial in his tomb. Mark’s gospel gives us a beautiful description of him: he was a respected member of the council looking for the kingdom of God (Mark 15:43). But although he was a member of the Sanhedrin, he had not consented to their decision and action to crucify the Lord Jesus. Instead, he took courage and went to Pilate and asked for the body of the Lord. Luke says it best: he was “a good and righteous man” (Luke 23:50).

A lot must have been going on in Joseph’s heart. He was a man who, like Elizabeth and Zechariah, and Mary and Joseph, earlier in the gospel story, was looking for the fulfillment of God’s promises and the coming of the messianic kingdom. I wonder if his friend, Nicodemus, who helped him late that afternoon—I wonder if Nicodemus told him what Jesus had said about entering the kingdom. I think that’s highly likely. He could see that an injustice had been done, a great non-good.

But there’s something else to notice here about Joseph that tells us something very important about real goodness. Real goodness cares, and real goodness acts, even if it’s going to cost. Who knows what it cost Joseph to step out of line with the Sanhedrin to do what he did for the Lord Jesus? But that’s what good men and women do. I wonder, is goodness one of the fruits of the Spirit in your life?