Getting the Gospel Right

When I was a teenager, I was struck by the anathema in Galatians 1:6–9,

But even if we, or an angel from heaven, should preach to you a gospel contrary to what we have preached to you, he is to be accursed (Galatians 1:8, NASB). 

What struck me then was the question, "so what is the Gospel?" If getting it wrong is worthy of anathema, I should be very careful to know what it is, right?

And it took me not long at all to realize that all the adults I knew had an answer, but basically none of them had a verse. So, for example, my Sunday School teachers had taught me that John 3:16 is "the Gospel in a nutshell." Well, John 3:16 is absolutely the Word of God. But when Scripture says "the Gospel," is it referring to John 3:16? What does the Scripture say?

As far as I have been able to tell, Scripture tells us what the Gospel is exactly once.  There are two passages laying out "the Gospel" explicitly:  1 Corinthians 15:1–8 defines "the gospel which I preached to you" (cf. Galatians 1:8),  and Revelation 14:6 gives us the "everlasting gospel."  The "everlasting gospel" is worth considering, but for now let's just focus on "the gospel which I preached to you":

Now I make known to you, brothers and sisters, the gospel which I preached to you, which you also received, in which you also stand, ² by which you also are saved, if you hold firmly to the word which I preached to you, unless you believed in vain.

³ For I handed down to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, ⁴ and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, ⁵ and that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. ⁶ After that He appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom remain until now, but some have fallen asleep; ⁷ then He appeared to James, then to all the apostles; ⁸ and last of all, as to one untimely born, He appeared to me also. ⁹ For I am the least of the apostles, and not fit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. ¹⁰ But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me did not prove vain; but I labored even more than all of them, yet not I, but the grace of God with me. ¹¹ Whether then it was I or they, so we preach and so you believed. (1 Corinthians 15:1–11, NASB).

This is the only time that Paul explicitly tells us what "the gospel" is. We would do well to commit to these verses to memory.  

Let's make the assumption that "the gospel which I preached to you" in 1 Corinthians 15:1 is the same thing as "[the gospel] we have preached to you" in Galatians 1:8. I think it's warranted in the text.

There is absolutely no question that the one who does not work, but believes in Him who justifies the ungodly is counted righteous (Romans 4:5)... but the Scripture doesn't label that "the gospel." (Although to be fair, this is close to "the everlasting gospel" in Revelation 14:6, which we'll need to discuss another time.)

There is absolutely no question that the one who hears Christ's words and believes on Him who sent Him [Christ] has eternal life (John 5:24)... but the Scripture doesn't label that "the Gospel."

There is absolutely no question that the one who believes on Jesus Christ shall be saved (Acts 16:31)... but the Scripture doesn't label that "the Gospel."

What Scripture calls "the Gospel" is that Christ has died for Our sins according to the Scriptures, that He was buried, that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He was seen by Cephas and the Twelve. That's it, that's the only time the epistles say, "this is the gospel."

I don't bring this up to be contentious. I bring this up, because when I look to see how the Word of God defines the Gospel, I don't find "Four Spiritual Laws" or "The Romans Road" or even John 3:16. What I find is four propositions about the death, burial, resurrection, and witnesses of Christ.

Let's be quick to say that God loves to forgive (Micah 7:18–19). There can be no doubt that someone who believes God is justified freely. There can be no doubt that many, many people have heard a not-quite-right Gospel, and God has justified them freely when they believe. Not because they got the Gospel right, but because they believed on Him who justifies the ungodly. Remember, God justifies the one who does not work, but believes (Romans 4:5), and every one of us – if we are honest – finds our belief is mixed up in all sorts of unbelief (Mark 9:24). No one who comes to Christ will be turned away (John 6:37), even if they later realize they could have come "better."

In other words, the Gospel isn't some sort of arcane test we need to pass in order to get to Christ. God forgives freely with the slightest provocation. Galatians 1:6–9 isn't a rule to exclude hearers from forgiveness, it's a condemnation against those who preach something else as Gospel. 

I've asked this before, but I think it's worth asking again. Have we heard "gospel messages" that miss out on those four things? Have we heard "gospel messages" that don't talk about Christ being seen by Cephas and the Twelve?  Have we heard "gospel messages" that don't mention that Christ was buried?  Have we heard "gospel messages" that don't mention the Resurrection? I have heard all of those things.

These so-called Gospel messages reveal our hearts, perhaps more completely than we want to admit.

Paul preached the Gospel as something to be believed. We prefer to preach a Gospel that's something to do. The Gospel that Paul preached, that the Corinthians received, that they believed, by which they were saved – that Gospel has no call to action. That Gospel is the story of the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ. It's not some proscribed action we give to sinners so they can be saved.

None of us wants to admit the central fact of Romans 4:1–5. God justifies the one who does not work, but believes. We just can't quite accept that, and so we add subtle "to-do" items to what Scripture calls the Gospel. 

"Here's the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Now, repeat this prayer after me."  That's literally adding something to the Gospel.

We just can't resist adding something for the sinner to do.

It reveals, too, that we're not seeing everything through the lens of "Christ and Him crucified."  If we were seeing everything through that lens, it wouldn't be hard for us to give the Gospel Paul gave and stop there. It's because we see "Christ and Him crucified" as not enough that we keep trying to add something to that.

I'm not saying that God doesn't command all men everywhere to repent (Acts 17:30–31). Of course He does! But we sure have an easy time folding all sorts of things into that word "repent." And I can't help but notice that our friends who stress repentance seem to lose "Christ and Him crucified" in the process. Somehow the focus becomes "repent" and "Christ and Him crucified" seems to slip off to the side, away from center stage.

Maybe repentance is something to talk about another time. It deserves its own post.

But the point I'm trying to make is that our life as Christians is supposed to be all about Christ. And when we give a "Gospel" that is more about the sinner than about Christ, then we reveal that we're not determined to see everything through the lens of Jesus Christ and Him crucified.

And maybe this is the biggest single problem we have. We manage to find so many things to put at the center, where Christ should be, and then we act surprised that our lives aren't Christ-centered. Well... what did we think would happen? Jesus Christ and Him crucified, that's the center we should have.

And make no mistake, I'm at least as guilty of this as anyone else. I'm not accusing all those sinners out there, I'm saying "we" because I mean "we."

 

 

 

 

Lens

I was sitting in meeting, ruminating on 1 Corinthians 11:26. Rodger mentioned this a year or so ago, pointing out that when we announce the Lord's death, we're not merely announcing that He died, but all that His death entails.

So there I was, thinking about 1 Corinthians 11:26, and thinking about 1 Corinthians 2:1–2. Many years ago, someone mentioned to me that when Paul said he knew "nothing except Jesus Christ and Him crucified" (1 Corinthians 2:2), the context makes it clear he didn't mean he didn't think or talk about anything else. After all, this is the epistle that discusses church order, and marriage, and lawsuits, and a whole host of other issues. So he's not saying he's ignorant of anything but the Crucifixion. 

It seems to me that Paul was saying that the Lord Jesus Christ and His crucifixion were the lens through which he saw everything. So when he addresses church order, marriage, lawsuits, and so forth, he addresses them in through the lens that Jesus Christ was crucified.

I've heard people (especially Francis Schaeffer) talk about "a Christian worldview." Well, this might be Paul's version of a Christian worldview. Jesus Christ and Him crucified was the central fact of Paul's life, and everything he saw was in relation to this central fact.

I'm not doing a great job viewing everything through the lens of "nothing except Jesus Christ and Him crucified."

If I were looking through that lens, I might not be terribly surprised at the terrible news on my phone every day. What else should I expect from a world that killed the Son of God?

If I were looking through that lens, I'd be a lot less angry about injustices I see around me. Surely the people who have and do reject Christ Jesus as Lord can't be expected to live any better than they do.

If I were looking through that lens, I might have a deeper appreciation for the beauty and majesty of the creation around me: it's a reflection of the One whose heart is unimaginably good. It's a testimony to the eternal power and God-ness of its creator (Romans 1:20).

If I were looking through that lens, I wouldn't be knowing anyone after the flesh, because I'd recognize that Christ's death ended the moral history of Adam, and His resurrection started something entirely new (1 Corinthians 15:45–49; 2 Corinthians 5:16).

So in the spirit of confessing our faults to one another, I will stop here and say that I've gotten distracted and had my eyes pulled away from the lens I ought to have been using. I've been far too likely to look at the world through a moral – but not necessarily Christ-centered – lens. I ought to have been seeing everything through the lens of "nothing except Jesus Christ and Him crucified."

That is, after all, the Christian worldview.

Christianity

We've talked before about 1 Corinthians 15:1–5, that gives us the gospel as four propositions centered on the death, burial, and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ. And we've mentioned that Christ's death, burial, and resurrection mark out the path for us: we are dead with Christ, buried with Him, and raised with Him. And just as He was seen by Cephas and the Twelve, we also will be seen with Him some day.

What I've tried to say over and over – but perhaps haven't said very well at all – is that Christianity differs from what came before in that it involves death, burial, and resurrection. The Old Testament saints were justified by grace through faith, just like we are (Romans 4:1–8). I have no doubt they were born of God, just like we are. But they weren't crucified with Christ, buried with Him, and raised with Him. That's our place, it wasn't theirs.

In a very real way, the Christian life is uniquely the life of death, burial, and resurrection.

I said at some point that the Christian life begins with baptism. It's not so much that baptism stands at the gateway to the Christian life (although I think it does), it's that where the Old Testament saints end and we begin, is at the truth of baptism: that we are identified with Christ in His death, burial, and resurrection.

Someone who believes but hasn't yet been baptized is justified by grace through faith in exactly the way that Abraham and David were, but he hasn't yet come to the point where Christianity starts – at least not consciously. Notice I'm not arguing whether God sees him as dead, buried, and raised with Christ. My point isn't what God sees, but what we see. An unbaptized believer is effectively an Old Testament saint.

Those of us who have been baptized are in an entirely different position, at least outwardly speaking. We are now in the place of those who have died with Christ (Romans 6:3).

In my experience, evangelical teaching on baptism is so weak it's effectively error. In my experience, when evangelicals talk about baptism, they're speaking in terms of obedience, not in terms of identity. So the statements of Romans 6 – baptism means we've died with Christ, been buried with Him, and shall have been raised with Him – are transformed into commands: baptism means we must live an entirely new sort of life, as though we had died with Christ, etc. I'm dismayed almost every time I hear evangelical teaching on baptism.

But it is true that our awareness of our identity in Christ has a tendency to fade over time. When we first realize we have died with Him, our shock turns to relief as we realize that we are now freed from that terrible sin that lives within us. We are relieved when we realize that God sees us as no longer being that old man that we were, and we are now free to agree with God, and count it as true ourselves. "I'm no longer that terrible old man, I'm no longer the slave of sin!" and suddenly we find ourselves free.

Because death is where slaves are free of their masters (Job 3:13–19).

But over time that realization fades, and we start to live again as though we're alive in this world. The memory of those first few moments of miraculous freedom fades, and we start to live and act as though we hadn't died with Him.

What's the solution? I'll blatantly rip a verse from its context and say, "remember therefore from whence thou art fallen" (Revelation 2:5). We're awfully quick to forget what it was like to be a slave to sin, and we can find ourselves drifting back that way all too easily. Like Israel, we start to think things weren't all that bad when we were eating leeks and onions back there... 

One thing about baptism, it doesn't give us a path back to the pre-baptism life.  You can't undo death.

In a very real sense, Colossians 3 picks up where Romans 6 leaves off. Romans 6 teaches that we have died with Christ, and that's something we have to reckon (count as true). Colossians 3 starts with that assumption, then goes on to say that, having died with Christ, we now have to "put to death" our "members on the earth." Colossians 3 gives a list of those members on the earth, but I'm not convinced it's a complete list. Be that as it may, it's striking that the command to mortify (put to death) our members on the earth is given to those who have already died with Christ.

Here's another place where evangelicals have gotten it wrong, in my experience. We have a tendency to put Colossians 3:5ff. before Colossians 3:1–4. In other words, we tend to see our having died with Christ as a result of our mortifying. But that's the opposite of what the text says. It says because we have died with Christ, we ought to mortify. In other words, our mortifying is a result of our already having died.

I've mentioned in the past that we can't skip Romans 6 on our way to Romans 12. We keep trying to throw people into Romans 12:1–2 who haven't yet learned Romans 6, and it just doesn't work. It can't work. Romans 12:1-2 is for those who have already learned Romans 6. In the same way, Colossians 3:5ff. is for those who have already learned Colossians 3:1–4.

Notice the progression of our relationship with death. When we first hear the gospel, the death of Christ means that Christ has died so I don't have to. That's a really basic, but really profound gospel. But then we learn that when Christ died, I died too. That's not something that's true in our experience, we are to believe it based on the word of God: we reckon (count on) it to be true. But now we come to Colossians 3:5ff., and death gets a little more real to us: now we begin to feel it. Now it cuts a little, and we might feel some of its sting. It cuts into those passions and lusts and sins that we enjoy. It starts to cost us something.

But we're not done yet. There is a third death for the believer, it's "death works in us" in 2 Corinthians 4:10–12. Notice this isn't something that's to be accepted on faith like death in Romans 6. And it's not something where we have some sort of control like the mortifying in Colossians 3:5ff. No, this cuts us very deeply, and we feel it, and we don't have any real control over it. This is death up close, personal, painful, and interfering. This is death as God's instrument to reveal the life of Jesus in our mortal flesh. This is, if you like, how God gets us out of the way so that people see Christ instead.

I've been reminded of this because I've been reading in Joshua. It seems to me that the Romans 6 death is connected with crossing the Red Sea (see 1 Corinthians 10:1–5, where the Red Sea represents baptism). And the children of Israel, we are told, crossed on dry ground (Exodus 14:21–22).

The children of Israel crossed the Jordan the same way (Joshua 3:14–17), but notice that the priests had to step into the water before it parted. So we can reasonably say that although the vast majority of the nation crossed over without getting wet, it seems like at least the priests got a little wet.

But once the children of Israel got to Gilgal, then the idea of the cutting off of the flesh got real. This wasn't like walking on dry ground through the Red Sea, it wasn't even like walking over the Jordan and the priests' feet getting wet. This was full-on death. It was circumcision with stone knives (Joshua 5:2). This was very, very painful. In fact, it was debilitating pain, so that they had to wait in Gilgal until those who'd been circumcised recovered (Joshua 5:8–9). 

That's what the 2 Corinthians 4:10–12 death is like. It's not something we need to reckon as true, because it's painfully true in our own experience.

We've talked about all this before. It's nothing new. But sometimes we need to be reminded of these things.