More than Conquerors
by R.C. Sproul Jr.

"Alright," I said, "how about we do an issue on common grace?" Everyone, having like me just finished a fine breakfast at Bonnie's restaurant seemed agreeable. Everyone, that is, except Mark. He explained that some Dutch Calvinists deny common grace. (And we sure wouldn't want to be deluged with mail from angry Dutch Calvinists.) They do not deny that God sends the rain on the just and the unjust. They do not deny that God gives those who are not elect the air they breathe, the food they eat, and from time to time some great sushi. All these "good" things, however, are merely preludes to greater judgement. That they do not thank God for that which He provides, only makes hell the hotter for them. Grace, that is something reserved for the elect, Mark explained. Fair enough. "Alright," I said, "how about we do an issue on plundering the Egyptians?" And everybody just sipped their coffee.

Common grace and plundering the Egyptians are linked because if there is not a single fingerprint of God among the Egyptians, then to plunder their booty is to pluck the forbidden fruit. To drink from their goblets is to drink poison. If, however, God in His kindness allows the lost to maintain something of His image, if He still uses them in the exercise of dominion over the creation, then we who not only bear His image but His name, can make use of their labors.

We need to parse our words carefully when we talk about common grace, the fingerprint of God, the image of God, etc. Please know that I'm not suggesting that there remains within fallen man a spark of divinity. Neither is there a spark of divinity in the redeemed. But there yet remains the remains of the image of God in all men. They are, as His creatures, set apart and called to rule over the creation, still of value, and imbued with dignity. This is why, when Noah steps off the ark, God says to him, "Hey, if anyone kills anyone unjustly, they need to be killed as well." This is why we are to love our neighbor. It is the image of God in all men that commands our compassion, our love, our respect. And it is the same thing that makes it perfectly reasonable that we should drink coffee brewed by a pagan from beans grown and picked by pagans, in a cup manufactured by pagans.

Drinking coffee picked by pagans, however, is more than okay; it is a great blessing. We are plundering the Egyptians not only when we walk out of slavery burdened with silver and gold. We do so every day, in a million different ways. If the bridge we passed on our way to have breakfast was built by an unbeliever, we have plundered Egypt. If, however, it was built by a believer, we have still plundered Egypt. Whether it be the pagans who sold the materials, or even the pagans that created the demand for the bridge, sooner or later we are benefiting from the presence of the pagans. When tender-hearted Christians wonder aloud why God would create people that He did not plan, or even hope to redeem, my first response is theological. I explain that until we learn to see the glory of God in the damnation of sinners we are bowing to an idol. The response is a sound one, but it misses something important. Pagans are not only here for the future glory God will derive in their damnation, but so we can plunder them.

We plunder the Egyptians when they merely aggravate us. We are given an opportunity to exercise patience, to rejoice in our own regeneration, to be a witness to the grace of God. We plunder the Egyptians when we use their tools in the exercise of dominion. Bill Gates has had a rather significant hand in the growth of the Highlands Study Center. He hasn't sent us any checks, but he has made it feasible, with very little money, for us to publish Every Thought Captive every other month. We do, however, receive checks from believers who are better able to prosper because of Mr. Gates' clever work. Sooner or later it all comes back to us.

The reason for that is that Jesus is not just Lord of the saved. He is also Lord of the damned. When Abraham Kuyper quipped that there is not one square inch of the universe over which Christ does not declare, "Mine," he wasn't excluding the heathen. Of course the heathen don't recognize His Lordship. But His Lordship is both power and authority. That is, He not only has the right to command what He will, to proclaim revealed law, but He actually does will decretively over them. The heathens do what they do because the Lord of the universe has determined that they would. Thus the unbeliever, as much as the believer, even while hating and denying it, does all his work as unto the Lord. Gates may think he is building a modern tower of Babel, making a name for himself, but it is God who not only signs the paycheck, but gives the orders.

What distinguishes us from them is three-fold. First, some of them do not build, but only destroy. No one, I pray, looks forward to that day when he can plunder the business of the abortionist. God never says to the children of Israel as they are about to enter the Promised Land, "See, I have given you homes you did not build, vineyards you did not plant, and whorehouses you did not cover in red-velvet." We cannot plunder without a deep sense of discernment. We don't want to take home the accursed things.

Second, even when they are building rather than tearing down, even when they are doing that which we can plunder, they naturally aren't doing so for the glory of God. That Mozart (assuming Mozart was a rank heathen as they portrayed him in Amadeus) could write such paeans to beauty that did show forth the beauty of God doesn't mean that he was a saint. While in his depravity wanting to tear down the kingdom of God, the poor fool actually helped it take a great leap forward. We, on the other hand, even if we are strumming a few chords together in a nice little melody, are, or at least ought to be, doing this for the glory of God. And by the way, while God wants us to be better than Mozart, He is nevertheless more pleased with our humble exertions than Mozart's gloriously stumbled-upon acorn.

Third, and this is the crux of the matter, what separates believers from pagans is that we are heirs, while they are merely slaves. We are sons, and they but hired hands. Even now, Mozart's Requiem, while it is ultimately God's, has been handed over to Bach for stewardship in heaven. Milton carries about the folios of Homer, Virgil, and Yeats. Relativity is being herded by Newton. David Brainerd is thinking Pascal's thoughts, and if he didn't actually make it, Chesterton's works are in C.S. Lewis's heavenly briefcase.

We are going to inherit the earth, and the fullness thereof. That means everything that is not wood, hay and stubble will belong to us, everything the heathen work for, and all that we work for, because we are joint-heirs with Christ. The jewelry of the Egyptians was but a picture and a down payment, a type and an earnest.

Of course we need to be careful. When God says, "Don't touch. That's wood, hay and stubble, and not only will it be burned, but it will burn you," we listen. Of course what truly separates us from the heathen is the work of Christ appropriated by faith. I'm not arguing that Mozart makes it into the kingdom by merit. But we don't need to be afraid of the wealth of the Egyptians. It can only be wealth, only be of value anyway, if it is useful in the building of God's kingdom. We plunder not for ourselves, but for Him. And we only plunder that which reflects His glory.

We need to be simple enough to look at the world, knowing that it is yet full of sin and temptation, but to see that it already belongs to our God, and therefore to us. We need to be simple enough that we never make the mistake of Peter. Jesus told him to eat from the unclean things, and he uttered that most damning of oxymorons, "No, Lord." When God hands us His stuff, He isn't impressed when we turn our noses up at it, whether it be Mozart, or a cigar made by godless Cuban communists. When I give my children a gift, they are delighted long before they know what it is. It's from me, and that's good enough. Our heavenly Father, however, only gives good gifts. So let us delight in them as His children.

We need to be separate enough to be able to make distinctions. It is sinful thoughts, sinful feelings, sinful habits, sinful ways of looking at God's world that we are to be separate from. That may mean we do not plunder Yves. St. Laurent, if his designs either hide God's design of gender distinctions, or if they accentuate those distinctives to the point of immodesty. But it doesn't mean that we give beauty, whether in music, or dress, over to the pagans, and be satisfied to live with the ugly. It is worldly to think that worldliness lies in things, or even origins. If the heathens feasted for dumb reasons on December 25th, being separate doesn't mean wearing sackcloth and ashes that day, but rather seizing the feast, and feasting for the greatest of reasons, that God sanctified the flesh by taking it on Himself. They have nothing to celebrate, and we have everything. So let us keep the feast, without shame.

To do this right, we have to be deliberate. We have to do the work it takes to think through what is hay, wood and stubble, and what is precious jewels that the swine managed to trample on. If it's the former, burn it. If it's the latter, give the swine a swift kick in the snout, rescue the pearls, clean them off, and adorn yourself. We also have to know ourselves, and our limitations. Sometimes the mud is stuck good on the pearls, and we can't get it off. If, for instance red velvet were a beautiful thing, that doesn't make it wise to go plunder that beauty by hanging out at the local cathouse, and politely refusing to buy anything while you're there.

Being deliberate means understanding the contexts, the boundaries God has established for his good gifts. We neither say, "Sex is something the heathen do, therefore we need to stay away," nor, "I'm going to be a Christian Hugh Hefner. It's time a child of the king got to have all those beautiful babes."

What makes those distinctions, and taps that wisdom is keeping ever before us our goal, to build the kingdom of God. You can bet that when Achan took home his ill-gotten booty he wasn't saying, "Won't God be pleased when I hand this back to Him?" We don't plunder on the basis of what we want, but on the basis of what is already His, what smells and sounds and looks like Him. And so with all the booty we respond with grateful hearts. It is from His fullness that we are fed. Such is food indeed.

We are warrior kings, made in the image of the great Warrior King. We go out to conquer, and we come home with booty. And we make no apologies for it, because the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof. It's time the heathen learned that. It's time we learned it as well.