In his "High Priestly Prayer" Jesus observed that, like himself, his Disciples were "not of this world" (John 17:16). The ways in which Christians have sought to define and live out this distinction have sometimes given rise to both legitimate question and reflection.
We were privileged some years ago to make the acquaintance of two families in a rather remote "colony" of a separatist body tracing its history to sixteenth century Tyrolean pietism. While outside visitors were not the norm, we were nonetheless welcomed into two brother's homes - contact having involved the hospitalization of the one and the other's possession of a forbidden (and thus hidden) radio on which we had been heard.
"Separation from the world" constituted the driving impetus within both colony and larger community to which it belonged. As such, sixteenth century customs, language and dress were faithfully maintained, as was also the observance of daily communal worship. To these people it all represented a requisite distinction to - and from - the surrounding world.
While most of us would likely find it strange that whether in worship or daily converse, God somehow preferred our use of a colloquial German dialect, do not we ourselves find it difficult at times to separate the essential from the non-essential? Some of us with a degree of roots in the "holiness movement" may recall days wherein such things as the reading of nonreligious materials (newspapers, etc.), listening to nonreligious music, or a woman's wearing toeless shoes, sleeves of less than wrist's length, curling her hair, ad infinitum, were - at least on the part of some - deemed expressions of a less than fully sanctified life. (Indeed, we recall one parishioner who rather judgmentally advised us that he missed the "old days" in which Bible studies often featured discussions as to that which women might, or might not, wear).
True separation from the world has its roots, first of all, in one's quality of spirit, motivational drives and attitudinal responses. Paul stresses this point in detailing "the fruit of the Spirit" by which, as opposed to the "works of the flesh," one's life is to reflect the outliving of the indwelling Christ (Gal. 5:19-25). For those seeking to "be spiritual," this sometimes becomes an area of vulnerability in that, when attended by attributes of pride, personal ambition, self interest, bitterness and/or ill will, more than a few of the "works of the flesh" can become quite religious in nature.
(As to the brother concerned with women's dress, our answer was that we would endeavor to preach what the Scriptures taught and to refrain from that representing mere personal opinion. Our answer fell somewhat short of that which he had hoped to hear. But, anyway...).
Burl Ratzsch
