Santification by Grace or through Works

I've been preaching through Galatians, the premier text when it comes to defending the gospel of justification by grace through faith. The practical theologian in me has wrestled with what that means after we've come to salvation...what about sanctification?

Thankfully, the Purtians were full of spiritual wisdom on practical Christianity. In the article below, we learn the distinction between increasing in holiness because we're increasing in grace and increasing in outward righteousness because we're obsessed with the law (instead of the lawgiver). I hope it proves edifying to you as well.

The Difference Between Legal and Gospel Mortification[1]

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By Ralph Erskine

Mr Ralph Erskine (1685-1752) was the son of a Covenanter, a Scottish Presbyterian minister who was imprisoned for field-preaching and refusing to countenance the official episcopalian church. A younger brother of the famous preacher Ebenezer Erskine, Ralph was an evangelical pastor with a love for the truth of God’s Word and the doctrines of the Lord Jesus Christ. He is still well known for his “gospel sonnets”, a collection of evangelical poems intended to press home particular Gospel truths. The Erskine brothers were “Marrow Men”, supporting Mr Thomas Boston’s reprinting of the “Marrow of Modern Divinity”, a Puritan book which distinguishes the Covenant of Works from the Covenant of Grace.

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1. Gospel and legal mortification differ in their principles from which they proceed. Gospel mortification is from gospel principles, viz. the Spirit of God [Rom. 8. 13], 'If ye through the Spirit mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live'; Faith in Christ [Acts 15. 9], 'Purifying their hearts by faith'; The love of Christ constraining [2 Cor. 5. 14], 'The love of Christ constraineth us.' But legal mortification is from legal principles such as, from the applause and praise of men, as in the Pharisees; from pride of self-righteousness, as in Paul before his conversion; from the fear of hell; from a natural conscience; from the example of others; from some common motions of the Spirit; and many times from the power of sin itself, while one sin is set up to wrestle with another, as when sensuality and self-righteousness wrestle with one another. The man, perhaps, will not drink and swear. Why? Because he is setting up and establishing a righteousness of his own, whereby to obtain the favour of God here is but one sin wrestling with another.

2. They differ in their weapons with which they fight against sin. The gospel believer fights with grace's weapons, namely, the blood of Christ, the word of God, the promises of the covenant, and the virtue of Christ's death and cross [Gal. 6. 14] 'God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ, by whom [or, as it may be read, 'whereby,' viz. by the cross of Christ,] the world is crucified to me, and I to the world.' But now the man under the law fights against sin by the promises and threatenings of the law; by its promises, saying, I will obtain life; and win to heaven, I hope, if I do so and so; by its threatenings, saying, I will go to hell and be damned, if I do not so and so. Sometimes he fights with the weapons of his own vows and resolutions, which are his strong tower, to which he runs and thinks himself safe.

3. They differ in the object of their mortification. They both, indeed, seek to mortify sin, but the legalist's quarrel is more especially with the sins of his conversation, whereas the true believer should desire to fight as the Syrians got orders, that is, neither against great nor small, so much as against the King himself, even against original corruption. A body of sin and death troubles him more than any other sin in the world; 'O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from this body of death?' [Rom. 7. 24]. His great exercise is to have the seed of the woman to bruise this head of the serpent.

4. They differ in the reasons of the contest. The believer, whom grace teaches to deny all ungodliness, he fights against sin because it dishonours God, opposes Christ, grieves the Spirit, and separates between his Lord and him; but the legalist fights against sin, because it breaks his peace, and troubles his conscience, and hurts him, by bringing wrath and judgment on him. As children will not play in the dust, not because it sullies their clothes, but flies into their eyes, and hurts them, so the legalist will not meddle with sin, not because it sullies the perfections of God, and defiles their souls, but only because it hurts them. I deny not, but there is too much of this legal temper even amongst the godly.

5. They differ in their motives and ends. The believer will not serve sin, because he is alive to God, and dead to sin [Rom. 6. 6]. The legalist forsakes sin, not because he is alive, but that he may live. The believer mortifies sin, because God loves him; but the legalist, that God may love him. The believer mortifies, because God is pacified towards him; the legalist mortifies, that he may pacify God by his mortification. He may go a great length, but it is still that he may have whereof to glory, making his own doing all the foundation of his hope and comfort.

6. They differ in the nature of their mortification. The legalist does not oppose sin violently, seeking the utter destruction of it. If he can get sin put down, he does not seek it to be thrust out; but the believer, having a nature and principle contrary to sin, he seeks not only to have it weakened, but extirpated. The quarrel is irreconcileable; no terms of accommodation or agreement; no league with sin is allowed, as it is with hypocrites.

7. They differ in the extent of the warfare, not only objectively, the believer hating every false way; but also subjectively, all the faculties of the believer's soul, the whole regenerate part being against sin. It is not so with the hypocrite or legalist; for as he spares some sin or other, so his opposition to sin is only seated in his conscience; his light and conscience oppose such a thing, while his heart approves of it. There is an extent also as to time; the legalist's opposition to sin is of a short duration, but in the believer it is to the end; grace and corruption still opposing one another.

8. They differ in the success. There is no believer, but as he fights against sin, so first or last he prevails, though not always to his discerning; and though he lose many battles, yet he gains the war. But the legalist, for all the work he makes, yet he never truly comes speed; though he cut off some actual sin, yet the corrupt nature is never changed; he never gets a new heart; the iron sinew in his neck, which opposes God, is never broken; and when he gets one sin mortified, sometimes another and more dangerous sin lifts up the head. Hence all the sins and pollutions that ever the Pharisees forsook, and all the good duties that ever they performed, made them but more proud, and strengthened their unbelieving prejudices against Christ, which was the greater and more dangerous sin.

Thus you may see the difference between legal and gospel mortification, and try yourselves thereby.

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[1] Mortification: putting to death (of sin)

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95 Theses

Hey Rome...Read'em and weep.

Go ahead...indulge yourself.

Happy Reformation Day!

Because of the Pope's offer to bring Anglican's under his shadow, I thought it important to remind people why there was a Reformation in the first place.



It's not enough for Anglicans to get to continue using the Book of Common Prayer or have married priests. The issue is how are we made right with God! Until Rome repents of her pernicious errors, they will remain in impaired communion with us.

Don't forget that.

Justice and the Christian

The following is from the Acton Institute. It really hit home for me because the seminary I attended felt it had a strong impulse for social justice. Unfortunately, it pretty much was a reiteration of the Democratic party's platform (especially its most radical elements). Don't get me wrong - the social righteousness ("family values") given by the more conservative schools are normally a reflection of the Republican party's platform (especially its most radical elements). Them's the brakes. But what made the former more odious - besides my immediate proximity - was the divorcing of justice from the wrath that God rightly has on sin, and the way that wrath was propitiated and expiated on the cross. Constantly deprecating the substitutionary atonement of Christ - as is done at most liberalized seminaries - means that we take a fundamental ethic rooted in human equality (granted - creation is a valid starting point, think imago dei, though most liberals don't hold to creation). For Christians, I think we need to start any ideas of reconciliation and right-setting in the cross of Christ and his atonement for our sin.

I'd also mention that the merciful grace and charitable love of Christ can easily be ignored at more conservative seminaries. However, having attended both Southern Seminary and Louisville Seminary, I haven't experienced direct evidence of that (SBTS was a very loving and supportive and diversity-affirming institution). Maybe if I'd gone to Bob Jones or something like that...

Just how zealous for justice ought Christians be? I admit that I’m always just a bit put off when folks describe the prime mission of Christians as pursuing justice in the world. Let’s not forget that the foundational Christian reality is forgiving love on the basis of the divine justice manifested on the cross.

Or as Luther puts it in his commentary on Romans (emphasis added),

This is the reason (if I may speak of myself) why even hearing the word “justice” nauseates me to the point that if someone robbed me, he would not bring me such grief. And yet the word is always sounding in the mouths of the lawyers. There is no race of men upon the earth who are more ignorant about this matter than the lawyers and the good-intentioners and the intellectuals. For I in myself and with many others have had the experience that when we were righteous, God laughed at us in our righteousness. And yet I have heard men who dared to say: “I know that I have righteousness, but God does not notice it.” That is true, but it is a righteousness only in one particular; but for this God cares nothing. Therefore the only complete righteousness is humility, which subjects everyone to everyone else and thus gives everything to everyone, as Christ says to John: “Thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness” (Matt. 3:15).

Thus in Dan. 3 Azariah confesses that he and his friends are at one and the same time suffering justly and yet are afflicted with evil, namely, at the hands of the wicked king. For even though he who acts does so unjustly, yet he does not do so to the person who suffers; for that person suffers justly. For by what legal right does the devil possess men? Or by what legal right does an evil hangman hang a thief? Certainly not in his own right, but by that of the judge. Thus men who glory in their own righteousness are unwilling to listen to the supreme Judge, but only to their own judgment, and because in respect to their victim they are innocent, they think that they really are innocent in every way.

Therefore since before God no one is righteous, absolutely no injustice can be done to a person by any other creature, even though he may have justice on his side. Thus all cause for contention is taken away from men. Therefore, to whomsoever an injury is done or an evil comes in return for his good actions, let him turn away his eyes from this evil and remember how great his own evil is in other respects, and then he will see how good the will of God is even in this evil which has come upon him; for this is what it means to be renewed in one’s mind and to be changed into another state of mind and to be wise in the things of God. Thus it is definite that Peter would not have glorified God if he had girded himself and gone where he wanted to go, even though he would not have walked a wicked path, but the highest road of righteousness. But after this road of his own righteousness was prohibited and he went where he did not want to go but where another wanted, then he glorified God. So also we cannot glorify God unless we do what we do not wish, even in the case of our own works of righteousness, indeed, particularly in the case of our own righteousness, our own counsels, or our own strength. And thus to hate our own life and to will against our own will, to be wise in opposition to our own wisdom, to confess sin in the face of our own righteousness, to heed foolishness spoken against our own wisdom, this is “to take our cross” (Matt. 10:38), “to be His disciples” (Luke 14:27), and “to be transformed by the renewal of your mind.”

Don’t get me wrong. I acknowledge that the ethical norm in social ethics is “justice.” But out of sheer humility let’s not be too zealous for justice, at least not without consciously, intentionally, and systematically connecting it to divine love.

Martin Luther on the Use of the Law

"It is exceeding necessary for us to know this use of the Law. For he that is not an open and a public murderer, an adulterer, or a thief, holds himself to be an upright and godly man; as did the Pharisee, so blinded and possessed spiritually of the devil, that he could neither see nor feel his sins, nor his miserable case, but exalted himself touching his good works and deserts. Such hypocrites and haughty saints can God by no better means humble and soften, than by and through the Law; for that is the right club or hammer, the thunderclap from Heaven, the axe of God's wrath, that strikes through, beats down, and batters such stock-blind, hardened hypocrites. For this cause, it is no small matter that we should rightly understand what the Law is, whereto it serves, and what is its proper work and office. We do not reject the Law and the works thereof, but on the contrary, confirm them, and teach that we ought to do good works, and that the Law is very good and profitable, if we merely give it its right, and keep it to its own proper work and office."

Do or Do Not - There is no try.

Verse 1

Here’s a controversial subject that tends to divide
For years it’s had Christians lining up on both sides
By God’s grace, I’ll address this without pride
The question concerns those for whom Christ died
Was He trying to save everybody worldwide?
Was He trying to make the entire world His Bride?
Does man’s unbelief keep the Savior’s hands tied?
Biblically, each of these must be denied
It’s true, Jesus gave up His life for His Bride
But His Bride is the elect, to whom His death is applied
If on judgment day, you see that you can’t hide
And because of your sin, God’s wrath on you abides
And hell is the place you eternally reside
That means your wrath from God hasn’t been satisfied
But we believe His mission was accomplished when He died
But how the cross relates to those in hell?
Well, they be saying:

God knows He tried (8x)

Verse 2

Father, Son and Spirit: three and yet one
Working as a unit to get things done
Our salvation began in eternity past
God certainly has to bring all His purpose to pass
A triune, eternal bond no one could ever sever
When it comes to the church, peep how they work together
The Father foreknew first, the Son came to earth
To die- the Holy Spirit gives the new birth
The Father elects them, the Son pays their debt and protects them
The Spirit is the One who resurrects them
The Father chooses them, the Son gets bruised for them
The Spirit renews them and produces fruit in them
Everybody’s not elect, the Father decides
And it’s only the elect in whom the Spirit resides
The Father and the Spirit- completely unified
But when it comes to Christ and those in hell?
Well, they be saying:

God knows He tried (8x)

Verse 3

My third and final verse- here’s the situation
Just a couple more things for your consideration
If saving everybody was why Christ came in history
With so many in hell, we’d have to say He failed miserably
So many think He only came to make it possible
Let’s follow this solution to a conclusion that’s logical
What about those who were already in the grave?
The Old Testament wicked- condemned as depraved
Did He die for them? C’mon, behave
But worst of all, you’re saying the cross by itself doesn’t save
That we must do something to give the cross its power
That means, at the end of the day, the glory’s ours
That man-centered thinking is not recommended
The cross will save all for whom it was intended
Because for the elect, God’s wrath was satisfied
But still, when it comes to those in hell
Well, they be saying:

God knows He tried (8x)

Preaching Hell in a Tolerant Age

Brimstone for the broad-minded.
by Tim Keller

The young man in my office was impeccably dressed and articulate. He was an Ivy League MBA, successful in the financial world, and had lived in three countries before age 30. Raised in a family with only the loosest connections to a mainline church, he had little understanding of Christianity.

I was therefore gratified to learn of his intense spiritual interest, recently piqued as he attended our church. He said he was ready to embrace the gospel. But there was a final obstacle.

"You've said that if we do not believe in Christ," he said, "we are lost and condemned. I'm sorry, I just cannot buy that. I work with some fine people who are Muslim, Jewish, or agnostic. I cannot believe they are going to hell just because they don't believe in Jesus. In fact, I cannot reconcile the very idea of hell with a loving God—even if he is holy too."

This young man expressed what may be the main objection contemporary secular people make to the Christian message. (A close second, in my experience, is the problem of suffering and evil.) Moderns reject the idea of final judgment and hell.

Thus, it's tempting to avoid such topics in our preaching. But neglecting the unpleasant doctrines of the historic faith will bring about counter-intuitive consequences. There is an ecological balance to scriptural truth that must not be disturbed.

If an area is rid of its predatory or undesirable animals, the balance of that environment may be so upset that the desirable plants and animals are lost—through overbreeding with a limited food supply. The nasty predator that was eliminated actually kept in balance the number of other animals and plants necessary to that particular ecosystem. In the same way, if we play down "bad" or harsh doctrines within the historic Christian faith, we will find, to our shock, that we have gutted all our pleasant and comfortable beliefs, too.

The loss of the doctrine of hell and judgment and the holiness of God does irreparable damage to our deepest comforts—our understanding of God's grace and love and of our human dignity and value to him. To preach the good news, we must preach the bad.

But in this age of tolerance, how?

How to preach hell to traditionalists

Before preaching on the subject of hell, I must recognize that today, a congregation is made up of two groups: traditionalists and postmoderns. The two hear the message of hell completely differently.

People from traditional cultures and mindsets tend to have (a) a belief in God, and (b) a strong sense of moral absolutes and the obligation to be good. These people tend to be older, from strong Catholic or religious Jewish backgrounds, from conservative evangelical/Pentecostal Protestant backgrounds, from the southern U.S., and first-generation immigrants from non-European countries.

The way to show traditional persons their need for the gospel is by saying, "Your sin separates you from God! You can't be righteous enough for him." Imperfection is the duty-worshiper's horror. Traditionalists are motivated toward God by the idea of punishment in hell. They sense the seriousness of sin.

But traditionalists may respond to the gospel only out of fear of hell, unless I show them Jesus experienced not only pain in general on the cross but hell in particular. This must be held up until they are attracted to Christ for the beauty of the costly love of what he did. To the traditional person, hell must be preached as the only way to know how much Christ loved you.

Here is one way I have preached this:

"Unless we come to grips with this terrible doctrine, we will never even begin to understand the depths of what Jesus did for us on the cross. His body was being destroyed in the worst possible way, but that was a flea bite compared to what was happening to his soul. When he cried out that his God had forsaken him, he was experiencing hell itself.

"If a mild acquaintance denounces you and rejects you—that hurts. If a good friend does the same—the hurt's far worse. However, if your spouse walks out on you, saying, 'I never want to see you again,' that is far more devastating still. The longer, deeper, and more intimate the relationship, the more torturous is any separation.

"But the Son's relationship with the Father was beginning-less and infinitely greater than the most intimate and passionate human relationship. When Jesus was cut off from God, he went into the deepest pit and most powerful furnace, beyond all imagining. And he did it voluntarily, for us."

How to preach hell to postmoderns

In contrast to the traditionalist, the postmodern person is hostile to the very idea of hell. People with more secular and postmodern mindsets tend to have (a) only a vague belief in the divine, if at all, and (b) little sense of moral absolutes, but rather a sense they need to be true to their dreams. They tend to be younger, from nominal Catholic or non-religious Jewish backgrounds, from liberal mainline Protestant backgrounds, from the western and northeastern U. S., and Europeans.

When preaching hell to people of this mindset, I've found I must make four arguments.

1. Sin is slavery. I do not define sin as just breaking the rules, but also as "making something besides God our ultimate value and worth." These good things, which become gods, will drive us relentlessly, enslaving us mentally and spiritually, even to hell forever if we let them.

I say, "You are actually being religious, though you don't know it—you are trying to find salvation through worshiping things that end up controlling you in a destructive way." Slavery is the choice-worshiper's horror.

C. S. Lewis's depictions of hell are important for postmodern people. In The Great Divorce, Lewis describes a busload of people from hell who come to the outskirts of heaven. There they are urged to leave behind the sins that have trapped them in hell. The descriptions Lewis makes of people in hell are so striking because we recognize the denial and self-delusion of substance addictions. When addicted to alcohol, we are miserable, but we blame others and pity ourselves; we do not take responsibility for our behavior nor see the roots of our problem.

Lewis writes, "Hell … begins with a grumbling mood, and yourself still distinct from it: perhaps even criticizing it. … You can repent and come out of it again. But there may come a day when you can do that no longer. Then there will be no you left to criticize the mood or even enjoy it, but just the grumble itself going on forever like a machine."

Modern people struggle with the idea of God thinking up punishments to inflict on disobedient people. When sin is seen as slavery, and hell as the freely chosen, eternal skid row of the universe, hell becomes much more comprehensible.

Here is an example from a recent sermon of how I try to explain this:

"First, sin separates us from the presence of God (Isa. 59:2), which is the source of all joy (Ps. 16:11), love, wisdom, or good thing of any sort (James 1:17) . …

"Second, to understand hell we must understand sin as slavery. Romans 1:21-25 tells us that we were built to live for God supremely, but instead we live for love, work, achievement, or morality to give us meaning and worth. Thus every person, religious or not, is worshiping something—idols, pseudo-saviors—to get their worth. But these things enslave us with guilt (if we fail to attain them) or anger (if someone blocks them from us) or fear (if they are threatened) or drivenness (since we must have them). Guilt, anger, and fear are like fire that destroys us. Sin is worshiping anything but Jesus—and the wages of sin is slavery."

Perhaps the greatest paradox of all is that the people on Lewis's bus from hell are enslaved because they freely choose to be. They would rather have their freedom (as they define it) than salvation. Their relentless delusion is that if they glorified God, they would lose their human greatness (Gen. 3:4-5), but their choice has really ruined their human greatness. Hell is, as Lewis says, "the greatest monument to human freedom."

2. Hell is less exclusive than so-called tolerance. Nothing is more characteristic of the modern mindset than the statement: "I think Christ is fine, but I believe a devout Muslim or Buddhist or even a good atheist will certainly find God." A slightly different version is: "I don't think God would send a person who lives a good life to hell just for holding the wrong belief." This approach is seen as more inclusive.

In preaching about hell, then, I need to counter this argument:

"The universal religion of humankind is: We develop a good record and give it to God, and then he owes us. The gospel is: God develops a good record and gives it to us, then we owe him (Rom. 1:17). In short, to say a good person, not just Christians, can find God is to say good works are enough to find God.

"You can believe that faith in Christ is not necessary or you can believe that we are saved by grace, but you cannot believe in both at once.

"So the apparently inclusive approach is really quite exclusive. It says, 'The good people can find God, and the bad people do not.'

"But what about us moral failures? We are excluded.

"The gospel says, 'The people who know they aren't good can find God, and the people who think they are good do not.'

"Then what about non-Christians, all of whom must, by definition, believe their moral efforts help them reach God? They are excluded.

"So both approaches are exclusive, but the gospel's is the more inclusive exclusivity. It says joyfully, 'It doesn't matter who you are or what you've done. It doesn't matter if you've been at the gates of hell. You can be welcomed and embraced fully and instantly through Christ.' "

3. Christianity's view of hell is more personal than the alternative view. Fairly often, I meet people who say, "I have a personal relationship with a loving God, and yet I don't believe in Jesus Christ at all."

"Why?" I ask.

They reply, "My God is too loving to pour out infinite suffering on anyone for sin."

But then a question remains: "What did it cost this kind of God to love us and embrace us? What did he endure in order to receive us? Where did this God agonize, cry out? Where were his nails and thorns?"

The only answer is: "I don't think that was necessary."

How ironic. In our effort to make God more loving, we have made God less loving. His love, in the end, needed to take no action. It was sentimentality, not love at all. The worship of a God like this will be impersonal, cognitive, ethical. There will be no joyful self-abandonment, no humble boldness, no constant sense of wonder. We would not sing to such a being, "Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all."

The postmodern "sensitive" approach to the subject of hell is actually quite impersonal. It says, "It doesn't matter if you believe in the person of Christ, as long as you follow his example."

But to say that is to say the essence of religion is intellectual and ethical, not personal. If any good person can find God, then the essential core of religion is understanding and following the rules.

When preaching about hell, I try to show how impersonal this view is:

"To say that any good person can find God is to create a religion without tears, without experience, without contact.

"The gospel certainly is not less than the understanding of truths and principles, but it is infinitely more. The essence of salvation is knowing a Person (John 17:3). As with knowing any person, there is repenting and weeping and rejoicing and encountering. The gospel calls us to a wildly passionate, intimate love relationship with Jesus Christ, and calls that 'the core of true salvation.' "

4. There is no love without wrath. What rankles people is the idea of judgment and the wrath of God: "I can't believe in a God who sends people to suffer eternally. What kind of loving God is filled with wrath?"

So in preaching about hell, we must explain that a wrathless God cannot be a loving God. Here's how I tried to do that in one sermon:

"People ask, 'What kind of loving God is filled with wrath?' But any loving person is often filled with wrath. In Hope Has Its Reasons, Becky Pippert writes, 'Think how we feel when we see someone we love ravaged by unwise actions or relationships. Do we respond with benign tolerance as we might toward strangers? Far from it. … Anger isn't the opposite of love. Hate is, and the final form of hate is indifference.'

"Pippert then quotes E. H. Gifford, 'Human love here offers a true analogy: the more a father loves his son, the more he hates in him the drunkard, the liar, the traitor.'

"She concludes: 'If I, a flawed narcissistic sinful woman, can feel this much pain and anger over someone's condition, how much more a morally perfect God who made them? God's wrath is not a cranky explosion, but his settled opposition to the cancer of sin which is eating out the insides of the human race he loves with his whole being.' "

A God like this

Following a recent sermon on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man, the post-service question-and-answer session was packed with more than the usual number of attenders. The questions and comments focused on the subject of eternal judgment.

My heart sank when a young college student said, "I've gone to church all my life, but I don't think I can believe in a God like this." Her tone was more sad than defiant, but her willingness to stay and talk showed that her mind was open.

Usually all the questions are pitched to me, and I respond as best I can. But on this occasion people began answering one another.

An older businesswoman said, "Well, I'm not much of a churchgoer, and I'm in some shock now. I always disliked the very idea of hell, but I never thought about it as a measure of what God was willing to endure in order to love me."

Then a mature Christian made a connection with a sermon a month ago on Jesus at Lazarus' tomb in John 11. "The text tells us that Jesus wept," he said, "yet he was also extremely angry at evil. That's helped me. He is not just an angry God or a weeping, loving God—he's both. He doesn't only judge evil, but he also takes the hell and judgment himself for us on the cross."

The second woman nodded, "Yes. I always thought hell told me about how angry God was with us, but I didn't know it also told me about how much he was willing to suffer and weep for us. I never knew how much hell told me about Jesus' love. It's very moving."

It is only because of the doctrine of judgment and hell that Jesus' proclamation of grace and love are so brilliant and astounding.

Tim Keller is pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City.

Originally published in Leadership journal, October 1, 1997.

Copyright © 1997 by the author or Christianity Today International/Leadership Journal.

For more on Hell from Tim Keller, go here.

Our Life

And my wife thinks I keep those books for me...

I think every pastor - especially those who homeschool - can sympathize.

h/t Wondermark

Multi-generational Churches

There's a lot of talk about creating a multi-generational, multi-cultural church. It's half good and half bad. If you mean multi-generational in terms of all ages, I'm for it. If you talk about multi-cultural in terms of the redeemed (who are one race, one nation - spiritual Israel, and one blood per Acts 17), I'm for that, too.

But what about remembering that we're called to be a REGENERATIONAL church before any of those other things. Love for people that are unlike us is not an inherited trait. It is learned in each generation - and it helps when we come to the realization that all the redeemed are already alike in the most eternally important way.

What we need are REgeneration churches! So I was pleasantly surprised when I came across this post. It reminded me of the half-way covenant that was a feature of compromised (mainline?) puritanism:

In the first generation truth is a conviction.

• Those who hold that conviction, hold it dearly.
• They do not know the meaning of compromise.
• They are willing to die for what they believe to be true.

In the second generation the conviction becomes a belief.

• Sons hold to the truths they have been taught by their fathers,
• and defend their beliefs in discussion and debate.
• However the keen edge of conviction has been blunted,
• and adherence to a body of beliefs inherited from the fathers is not so much a passion as a persuasion.

In the third generation the belief becomes an opinion.

• By then some members of the movement are willing to trade in their opinions.
• They feel it is time for a change.
• They start talking about renewal,
• but they may look to the world for ideas.

If there's a fourth generation, it's what you see in the legacy denominations (note: I rarely use "mainline" anymore because they neither represent the mainstream of Christianity in beliefs, values, or numbers).

PS: Please remember that it was the half-way covenant (the compromise that it bred) that so upset godly men like Jonathan Edwards, George Whitfield, and the Wesleys, setting off the first great awakening. During that time, denominational barriers broke down and like-minded men and women came together for the sake of the Gospel! Like others, I believe God is ready to do just that same thing again in our day. Realign, brothers and sisters, with those who name Christ - not just those who share your name brand!

Shamelessly ganked from FIDE-O

Offending against Love or Christ? What we can safely tolerate.

"Doctrine is heaven, life is earth. In life there is sin, error, uncleanness, and misery, mixed, as the saying goes, 'with vinegar.' Here love should condone, tolerate, be deceived, trust, hope, and endure all things (1 Cor. 13:7); here the forgiveness of sins should have complete sway, provided that sin and error are not defended. But just as there is no error in doctrine, so there is no need for any forgiveness of sins. Therefore there is no comparison at all between doctrine and life. 'One dot' of doctrine is worth more than 'heaven and earth' (Matt. 5:18); therefore we do not permit the slightest offense against it. But we can be lenient toward errors of life. For we, too, err daily in our life and conduct; so do all the saints, as they earnestly confess in the Lord's Prayer and the Creed. But by the grace of God our doctrine is pure; we have all the articles of faith solidly established in Sacred Scripture. The devil would dearly love to corrupt and overthrow these; that is why he attacks us so cleaverly with this specious argument about not offending against love and the harmony among the churches."

- Martin Luther, Luther’s Works 27: 41-42

Insufficient reflection on Sola Fide

Some people argue that while Christians are fussing over doctrine, they are ignoring the work that Christ left for us to do. I retort that that those who don't understand the work Christ did while he was on earth are hardly capable of continuing it in any meaningful way! So talk of Christianity that is separated from truth claims on the nature of Christ's work is not particularly defensible. Further, I think that history would show how Christianity is, historically, uniquely tied to its truth claims (both dogma and pragma) in a way that other faiths (often being more practice-driven) are not. This is merely a matter of history, not of theology. And secular thinkers have said as much in recent days.

A colleague's recent thoughts on justification and faith brought to mind Luther's famous statement, that "the doctrine of justification is the article by which the church stands or falls." He was referring to its articulation in the fourth article of the Augsburg Confession that justification is by faith alone in Christ alone (Melancthon's commentary on which may be found here). Similarly, Calvin said that justification by faith is "the principle hinge by which religion is supported." To be a Protestant means that you understand salvation, however you parse that (salvation from Hell and God's wrath, restoration to right relationship with God and others, etc.) is accomplished by Jesus Christ's work plus nothing! The recent Cambridge Declaration reiterated the belief, calling sola fide the "chief article" of Protestant Christianity.

I think that we lose perspective on this belief when we aren't anchored in understanding the history surrounding it. The Roman Catholic Church, for all its errors and excesses, was doing a decent job of urging charity and contributing to social cohesion. It had hospitals, schools, diplomats, amnesty workers, etc. And when the Reformers got off the ground, they had similar organizations. Their belief in this doctrine of justification by faith was obviously a matter of great intellectual and pietistic reflection, as is evidenced by the amount of ink spilled on the topic in the following four centuries. (Turretin's work on this is massive!) But it also had a very practical outworking in the building of schools, hospitals, charitable organizations, etc... all of which flourished in Reformed countries (despite the current mischaracterization that concern for doctrine diminishes "living out the kingdom of God").

What Protestants have always affirmed is that saving faith is God's work in us. It is an abandonment of faith in ourselves and a reliance upon the work of Christ as the sole means by which we have joyful fellowship with God and (ultimately) with ourselves and with others. If we look at any thing we do as somehow changing God's mind about communing with us, we fail to trust in Christ. If we think our good deeds make God like us more, we flubbed it. If we think God will love us less if we misbehave, we've fallen into error.

For legalists, this often takes the form of a "don't" list. Don't murder. Don't fornicate. Don't steal. Don't drink. Don't smoke. Don't XXXX. People that think God loves us or thinks better of us because we don't do these things are taking glory away from the sufficient righteousness that is ours in Jesus Christ.

For others - often (and inaccurately) labeled as "liberals" - this takes the form of a "do" list. Do feed the hungry. Do clothe the poor. Do justice for the orphan, widow, and alien. Do recycle. Do activism. Do XXXX. People that think God loves us or thinks better of us because we do these things are taking glory away from the sufficient righteousness that is ours in Jesus Christ.

Both of these forms of autosoterism are detestable and are unreformed. Reformed people eschew sin (some of which is found in the "don't list") and act righteously (some of which is found in the "do list") because God has revealed that his glory is manifested in us in those ways. Our life is one of thankful response whereby we "glorify God and enjoy him forever."

Every time we move away from the doctrine - the belief - that the work of reconciliation is complete in Christ and manifested in time by its application to us through the Holy Spirit, we err in one extreme or the other. We may say that we're just trying to live right (whether that's "good, clean livin'" or "ethical, green livin'"). But if we don't trust in Jesus for all of salvation (setting us right with the Godhead, each other, and the created order), then we'll fall into the trap of autosoterism (Pelagianism, Romanism, or whatever stripe it wears). Then, the God we worship is an idol who exists to rubber stamp our failures or successes in "doing justice" or "acting righteously."

Recommended reading:

One Faith: The Evangelical Consensus, by Alister McGrath and Thomas Oden. They've both written on the topic for academic audiences (vide infra). More importantly, they show how Protestants who identify themselves as Reformed and as Arminian have a common ground of belief. In terms of bang-for-your-buck, this is the tops!

Iustitia Dei, by Alister McGrath. This is a historical overview of the doctrine, solid and interesting but a little dry and very, very expensive.

Dr. Sproul does a better job at detailing this within the Reformed family, but his work has a more narrow appeal than the McGrath/Oden piece. Still, if you are Reformed, his book is a better representation of our mindset on the issue. (There's an interesting critique of Sproul's handling of Luther here.)

Faith Alone, by Martin Luther. Last but not least, this is the exposition of his stance from the Smalcald Articles. I also recommend this examination of his position on how living justification by grace through faith results in our sanctification and wholeness.