Friday, June 17, 2022

A few thoughts on liberty in Christ

Following on our earlier conversation, it occurs to me that I used the expression "liberty in Christ" without really talking about is as a principle. I just sort of assumed it. We should probably take a few moments to consider what scripture says about about liberty in Christ.

Galatians 5:1 tells us we are to "stand fast"  in the liberty we have in Christ. It sounds odd to say it, but liberty in Christ is non-negotiable. As men and women in Christ Jesus, we may or may not actually practice certain liberties. But we don't have the right to abandon the liberty of our position: we have been set free in Christ, and we do not have the right to allow ourselves to fall into bondage.

Galatians 5:13 goes on to say that we have been called to liberty. If we are not living as free men and women in Christ Jesus, we are not living up to our calling. I don't think we appreciate this enough: a gospel that doesn't include liberty in Christ Jesus is false gospel.

Galatians 5:13 then tells us that we're not to use our liberty as an "occasion to the flesh."  So here's a line we cannot cross: we must not allow ourselves to fall into the false gospel of liberty-less Christianity. At exactly the same time, we must not allow ourselves to use our liberty in Christ to give the flesh opportunities to do what it does.

There is a connection here with Romans 6:14–16. If we obey sin (and remember that "sin" in Romans 6 doesn't mean "sins," but is a master who wants us as slaves), then we find we become the slaves of sin. It is possible for us to take the liberty we have in Christ Jesus and use it in such a way that we find ourselves enslaved. 

Of course, Christians who take that as an excuse to deny liberty in Christ Jesus are really denying the Gospel. So we need to walk very, very carefully here. On the one hand, we mustn't disobey Romans 6:14–16 and lose our liberty in slavery to sin. On the other hand, we mustn't disobey Galatians 5:1, denying the Gospel by not standing fast in liberty.  

We've said this so many times, but it bears repeating: law is no remedy for lawlessness. Legalism born of fear that someone might use liberty as "an occasion to the flesh" is like burning down a barn to remove a rat infestation, or amputating a finger because of a hangnail. It's a cure that's much, much worse than the disease. It's denying Christ.

Whatever sin we fear someone might fall into, denying the liberty we have in Christ Jesus is worse. We should meditate very carefully on this. The one is a sin to be repented of, the other is spitting in the face of the Son of God. There is nothing worse than that.

Romans 14:1–3 clarifies that being called into liberty doesn't mean we must practice our liberty all the same way. Notice that it's possible for our individual practices to vary: some might eat meat, some might not, but both are to do it "to the Lord."  Some might drink alcohol, some might not, but both are to do it "to the Lord." 

To put it another way, Christ has set us free both to practice and to not practice our liberty. A believer might not drink alcohol, another believer might have no problem drinking. We are forbidden from saying that the one is more spiritual than the other (Romans 14:3, 13). 

Having liberty in Christ to smoke a cigar doesn't mean we must smoke cigars, to go back to Spurgeon's example.

I have known Christians who celebrated holidays like Christmas and Easter. I have known other believers who did not. We are free to "regard a day," and we are free to "esteem every day alike" (Romans 14:5–6). But we are not free to deny the Lord.  If one believer regards all days alike, he must not judge those who regard one day over another. If another believer regards one day over another, he must not look down on the one who esteems all days alike.

See, it's not sin to eat meat, or drink wine, or celebrate holidays. It is sin to deny our liberty in Christ.

Romans 14:14 makes two different statements, and we should be careful to observe them: " I know, and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus, that nothing is unclean of itself." There is no excuse for a Christian not to know that nothing is unclean of itself. But don't always find ourselves persuaded. So if I recognize that something isn't unclean in itself, but I just can't find myself free before God to do that thing, then I shouldn't do it. But I mustn't sin by saying it's unclean in itself.

And many others have pointed out, if we can't do something in the name of the Lord Jesus, it's not one of the "all things" we should be doing.

So those are a few thoughts about liberty in Christ Jesus. Denying liberty in Christ is sin, but we aren't obligated to practice our liberty: we might find ourselves "not eating to the Lord" or "not drinking to the Lord."  

We must not allow ourselves to be enslaved once more by making liberty in Christ Jesus an occasion to the flesh.

We must not allow ourselves to be goaded into denying the Gospel by fear that someone might take liberty in Christ too far.

And above all, whether we eat or don't eat, whether we drink or don't drink, we must do it "to the Lord." We are to do all things in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him (Colossians 3:17).



 


 


Monday, June 13, 2022

Staying in His lane

Elihu tells us that if God were to "think only of Himself," the entire creation would perish (Job 34:14–15). That's a remarkable claim, and it brings us face-to-face with God in a way we don't always think of Him: He is the God who refuses to leave well enough alone. He is the God who refuses to mind His own business. He's the God who refuses to stay in His own lane.

J. N. Darby points out that God's reaction to the Fall is to ask two questions: "where are you?" (Genesis 3:9) and "what have you done?" (Genesis 3:11, 13). And he notices that God asks "where are you?" before He asks, "what have you done?"  We tend to think of those in reverse. But the bigger point is that God comes looking for man when he sins. It's a story we all know, so maybe we don't think how astonishing it is that God's reaction to the Fall is to come looking for us.

It's important we realize that God owes us nothing. He would have been perfectly just (and justified!) to simply condemn Adam, Eve, and all of their race. Were we to be thrown into hell, it would be no worse than any of us deserve. We have all sinned, we all fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23).

But God isn't content to be just. He is the God who "devises means" – the God who plots and schemes – to be merciful to sinners (2 Samuel 14:14). One of my daughters once said God stays up all night poring over the law books, looking for loopholes so that He can be merciful to us. That's not strictly biblical, but it expresses the idea of the wise woman of Tekoa. So I'll give my daughter a pass on her definitely-not-biblical-and-yet-very-correct description. And notice how this aligns with the language of Romans 3:26: one result of the cross of Christ is that God could both justify and be just.

The old preachers used to say the only time in all of Scripture when God is seen to hurry is when the Father sees the prodigal returning and runs to meet him (Luke 15:20). 

And really, isn't that the astonishing thing about Genesis 18:20–21? God calmly tells Abram that the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah is so great that its stench has risen up to Heaven. So what does He do? He comes down to see if its really all that bad. That's a remarkable thought: that God Himself would come down from Heaven, looking to see if He can give Sodom and Gomorrah one last chance. It's a remarkable glimpse into who God is.

And we've noticed before that when God invites the Son to sit on His right hand (Psalm 110:1), He promises to make all the Son's enemies His footstool. But here we are: instead of being made His footstool, we have been lifted up to sit with Him in the throne (Ephesians 2:6). God isn't content to do what He really ought to do. He insists on doing so much more.

My working definition of grace is something like "God doing what He wants to do with no regard for what we deserve." I think I mentioned that before at some point. And the more we realize how little we deserve, the more we see that it's only God's sovereign grace that we have to thank.

I don't meditate enough on this.

Friday, June 3, 2022

Lordship and Liberty

A friend of mine made a comment the other night about Spurgeon's announcement that he intended to "smoke a cigar to the glory of God." That resonated with me, because I have been struggling for the last couple years to understand what Francis Schaeffer called "the lordship of Christ over the whole of life." And I think Spurgeon's comment helps.

I have advocated for "liberty in Christ" for many years. That really is biblical (Galatians 5:1, 13).  We are called unto liberty, and we cannot allow that to be eroded in the tiniest way. We need to "stand fast." This is a hill to die on.

At the same time, it seems like "liberty in Christ" has led (as often as not) to the notion that there are parts of my life that God doesn't care about.  So many times I've seen someone take liberty in Christ to mean that there are autonomous parts of my life. And eventually, that leads us into this "heavenly vs earthly" dichotomy. This is precisely the "upper storey" problem that Francis Schaeffer warned us about.

And notice, Scripture doesn't give us liberty and leave us there. Consider Romans 14:6, the one who eats eats "to the Lord," the one who does not eat "[it is] to [the] Lord he does not eat, and gives God thanks." So it's not merely that I have freedom to eat or not to eat. Rather, whether I eat or don't eat, it's to the Lord, and thanking God through Him. 

So liberty in Christ is necessary, but it's not sufficient.  We must not compromise on our liberty in Christ, but we must not stop there either. Liberty in Christ isn't merely liberty, so to speak. It's not that we have license to own some parts of our lives to rule over ourselves as we see fit. It's not that there are neat compartments where we can autonomously choose to enjoy certain things without feeling guilty before God. That's liberty in some sense, but it comes short of the calling.

Rather, Colossians 3:17 calls us beyond liberty, to live to Christ in all things. 

Francis Schaeffer explains,

The lordship of Christ over the whole of life means that there are no platonic areas in Christianity, no dichotomy or hierarchy between the body and soul. God made the body as well as the soul and redemption is for the whole man  (Art and the Bible, quoted in  "10 Things You Need to Know about Francis Schaeffer", Christianity.com).

Like Spurgeon, I've been known to enjoy a cigar. I've understood that to be a liberty I have in Christ. But I don't know that I've ever enjoyed a cigar to the glory of God. Or, in the words of Colossians, in the name of the Lord Jesus. But that's precisely our calling.

So for the last couple years, I've been intentional about doing all things in the name of the Lord Jesus. And it didn't take very long to ask, "but what does that really mean?" How would I do all things in the name of the Lord Jesus? Well, the verse goes on to say, "giving thanks to God the Father through Him." So I've been intentional about practicing that.

Even feeding my chickens can be done in the name of the Lord Jesus, when I'm giving thanks to God the Father through Him. So I thank the Father that I have chickens, and that I have feed to give them. I thank Him that coyotes haven't gotten them, and that they give me eggs. And suddenly, feeding chickens becomes something very much part of New Creation: as a man in Christ Jesus, I am feeding chickens in His name.

But before you think, "wow! this is a spiritual giant," let me point out that I've been struggling with this more than two years, and I'll be first to say I haven't arrived yet.