Chronological snobbery. Ever heard that term? First coined by C.S. Lewis, it essentially is the belief that whatever was before was inferior. That our thinking today is better than the thinking of yesterday simply because we are “more advanced” than back then. That our present convictions must be better than then convictions held in previous generations simply because of “how far we’ve come.” And if our convictions are better, then certainly our actions must be better too.

For the believer, the temptation may not only be toward such chronological snobbery but also towards “covenantal” snobbery. That, because we are no longer “under law,” somehow we must be holier. But I think a better paradigm for the child of God may be the one I encountered this morning in Psalm 106.

Both we and our fathers have sinned; we have committed iniquity; we have done wickedness.

(Psalm 106:6 ESV)

This posture has a radical way or orienting the Scriptures. Rather than read of the ancients as those “before Christ” who didn’t know better and thus were unlike us, instead their stories become our stories. Instead of them being the “lower bar” we compare ourselves to as those having a superior righteousness, they actually become a mirror. They are us. And there, but for the grace of God, we would go. And, though the circumstance and details might be different — if we are really honest with ourselves — too often there, despite the grace of God, we have gone.

Case in point. Brother Saul. Not Saul who would become Paul, but Saul who became king. The king who could sing at the end of his days, “I did it my way!”

Saul was a progenitor of the pragmatic. Though he knew the playbook of how things should be done in theory (aka in obedience to the LORD), the rules he followed were dictated more by the pressure of how things actually were. Expedience seemed to be the deciding factor.

For example, before heading into battle, a sacrifice needs to be made and the LORD needs to be sought, but the one charged with such tasks, Samuel, is running seven days late and Saul’s army is getting antsy. So, what does Saul do? He offers the burnt offering himself (1Sam 13:8-13). He did it his way.

Or, what about the time Saul is told to utterly destroy an enemy people, not sparing anyone and devoting to destruction all they possess? Instead, Saul spares the king and is selective on what is destroyed, keeping “the best of the sheep and of the oxen and of the fattened calves and the lambs, and all that was good” and devoting to destruction only that which was “despised and worthless” (1Sam. 15:1-9). Again, doing it how he thought best given the circumstances.

And if the witness of two incidents isn’t enough, the Spirit ensures we know about a third.

And when Saul inquired of the LORD, the LORD did not answer him, either by dreams, or by Urim, or by prophets. Then Saul said to his servants, “Seek out for me a woman who is a medium, that I may go to her and inquire of her.” And his servants said to him, “Behold, there is a medium at En-dor.” So Saul disguised himself and put on other garments and went, he and two men with him. And they came to the woman by night. And he said, “Divine for me by a spirit and bring up for me whomever I shall name to you.”

(1Samuel 28:6-8 ESV)

Saul, the one who had expelled the mediums from the land (28:3), now sought one. Saul who knew better than to play with occult, now opted for it. After all, the LORD wasn’t speaking to him so how was he practically going to get the divine direction he so desperately needed? If not from God, then from a man of God — even it was a dead man of God (28:11).

So, how do I read this? With a bit of chronological snobbery? With a bit of covenantal snobbery? Feeling like the people of God today (aka me) have come so far from the people of God back then (aka King Saul)?

Am I indignant or should I be identifying? Condemning or complicit? Glad that I’m not a sinner like him, or aware again that I’m a sinner more like him than I really care to admit? That, when the going gets tough and the pressure begins to press, I too have the propensity to step out and do things my way.

Jesus died for people like us — Saul and me. For those who occasion to trust in ourselves more than in our God.

Ours, then, is to confess our sins. Knowing that He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins. The blood able to cleanse us from all sin and snobbery, even the sin and snobbery of thinking I can do it my way.

Forgiven by His grace. Forgiven for His glory.