Wednesday, March 20, 2024

Repentance, penance, and absolution

Over the last year or so I've had several difficult conversations with friends and acquaintances who had found themselves overtaken in some fault or another. For whatever reason, they seemed to want to unburden themselves on me. Now, I don't object to being their sounding board: to the extend they think that's something they think they need, it's fine by me. But it seems to me there's a danger of which we should be aware: the danger of allowing repentance to become penance.

It seems to me there's a link between repentance and faith, and another between penance and unbelief. Repentance (at least, godly repentance) hinges on seeing ourselves as we are, and God as He is. Notice how Job 42:5–6 describes getting a right view of God, and how that drives Job to repentance.

Penance on the other hand, is an attempt to earn some sort of righteousness with God. Really, it boils down to unbelief: God has already told us we have no righteousness but Christ. God has already told us that Christ has borne our sins. God has already assured us that when we confess, He forgives. Looking for some sort of assurance outside of the word of God is not faith. Looking for some sort of merit in my own works – no matter how big or how small – is not faith. These things are the opposite of faith. They are unbelief.

So I suppose I would say the difference between repentance and penance is faith. Repentance comes from believing God, penance results from unbelief. Of course that doesn't help us very much in terms of identifying when someone has gone from the one to the other. But it might help me individually know when I've done so: "is this faith? or is it doubting God's word?" That's the real question.

I'm a little less dogmatic on the whole idea of absolution. There are certainly times when we need to seek forgiveness from someone other than God: we might have sinned against someone, for example, and need to seek their forgiveness too. And unlike with God, we might find ourselves needing to make some sort of amends to that person. But that's not really what absolution is.

Absolution is more about confessing my sins to someone else, and receiving from that person assurance of God's forgiveness. Is absolution something we need? No, we have the word of God to assure us that God has forgiven. But what do we do when someone comes to us, looking for assurance from us that God forgives? The more I think this over, the more I think there is value in a true believer assuring someone of God's forgiveness, as long as he or she is pointing them to the word of God. One friend of mine says we should be quick to say, "Jesus loves you, Jesus has forgiven you." I think that's good advice, but I'll add the caveat that we shouldn't ever say that as though we have authoritative knowledge in ourselves. It's not that I know that God has forgiven you because on my spiritual state or insight; no, it's that I know God has forgiven you based on His word, and we can look at it together.

So I think there's a place for absolution, as long as it's grounded in God's word, not in some presumed authority.

And let's be clear about something here: we can't talk about this sort of thing in the abstract. It's not very useful to talk about what a Christian should do in an ideal world. When a true believer comes to us with a guilty conscience, we're not dealing in the hypothetical. We who have sinned really big – so big that our standard evangelical faith collapsed under the weight of our own guilt – know there's a desperation that hypothetical Christianity doesn't really address. But when someone comes to us with that sort of guilt, we ought to lead him or her to the Cross, to God's grace, to Christ's having borne our sins. It's not the time to lecture, it's the time to lead with compassion to the One who is gracious to both of us.

It's important for us to realize that God forgives based on the death of Christ (Romans 3:21–26). Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures (1 Corinthians 15:1–8), and it is this – and only this – that enables God to forgive us. It's easy to lose sight of this when we deal with the question of confession: we're tempted to think that confession is an act of merit, and God forgives us because we confess our sins. That's not true at all. It's true that when we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins (1 John 1:9), but it's not our confession that makes God forgive. In fact, even as we are sinning, Christ is advocating for us with the Father. I don't know another way to understand 1 John 2:1–2. 

Christ doesn't wait for us to confess, repent, or even acknowledge our sins before He takes action on our behalf. We all need to meditate on this. We all need to let this one sink in.

So why do we confess our sins? The simplest reason is our own peace of heart: we need to know that God has forgiven us. That assurance is as simple as confessing our sins, and then believing God. 

It's important, too, to realize that when we have sinned – when we are at our lowest – we are seeing ourselves exactly like God has always seen us. In fact, no matter how low your opinion of yourself is, God's opinion of you is worse. We have a tendency to evaluate ourselves based on our performance, usually our current or very recent past. But God knows all things: on our best days, He knows what our worst days will be, and He sees what we will do. So on our best days, we should be humble. On our worst days, we should remember God's view of us is no different than it was on our best days. God knows what we are.

And this brings us back to repentance. Repentance is a gift from God (Acts 11:18). It is the correct response to understanding that we have sinned (Acts 17:30–31). But it goes much deeper than our understanding of what we have done: it goes to our understanding of what we are (see Isaiah 6:5, Luke 18:9ff). Job repented when he saw who God really is. It's noteworthy that scripture doesn't tell us Job sinned. The closest thing we get to sin on Job's part is Job 32:1–3.

Job 32:1–3 gives a brief summary of the book up to that point. Job's friends "found no answer, and yet condemned [him]" (Job 32:3), but Job was also wrong, because "he justified himself rather than God" (Job 32:2). It seems to me this is a danger to us, particularly when we are doing something right: that we would justify ourselves rather than God.

Philippians 3:8ff tells us that to be "in Christ" is to have "no righteousness of my own."  This means we give up (or have given up) any merit we have. Even the questionable merit we might associate with confessing our sins. Any merit that comes our way from confession or repentance is something we need to give up if we want to be "in Christ."

I know I've offended people in the past by saying that there is a danger of our being no longer "in Christ." I don't mean that God ever sees us as anything other than "in Christ." We are accepted by God always and only "in Christ." I don't mean we can cease to be "in Christ" in God's eyes. I mean that our spiritual health and growth and progress are based on our seeing things the way God sees them (cf. Romans 6:1–11). That's what Philippians 3:8ff is talking about: it's not saying "I hope I can attain being in Christ," it's saying, "I want to see myself in Christ, just as God sees me in Christ." And the key there is to understand that we have no righteousness of our own.

We cease to be "in Christ" in our own minds – not in God's eyes – when we start to think we have righteousness of our own. We need to be very careful here.

One last note: it would be wrong not to mention a wonderful article by J. N. Darby here, "Cleansing by Water: and what it is to walk in the light." I can't recommend it highly enough.

Saturday, February 17, 2024

Direct Action

About 30 years ago, I was reading through a Passover Haggadah and was struck by a statement to the effect that God Himself had come down to save Israel from Egypt. "That's odd," I thought, "wasn't it an angel that struck the firstborn?"

I have searched the scriptures for many years, and have been unable to find a mention of this angel. Scripture is consistent on this point: it was God who struck the firstborn, it was God who passed over the houses when He saw blood.

There might have been angelic involvement in the Passover, but scripture doesn't mention it.

Scripture says that God Himself would "go out into the midst of Egypt" and the result would be calamity (Exodus 11:4–7).  God told Moses that He would go through Egypt, "and smite all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment" (Exodus 12:12). But when He saw blood on the lintel and door posts, He would pass over that house (Exodus 12:13).

The closest I can find to such an angel in Exodus is Exodus 12:23. KJV and JND both mention a "destroyer" in that verse. Other translations I have checked render "destroyer" as "plague". Numbers 20:16 might be more promising.

A friend of mine points to Psalm 78:49, which I find unconvincing. In context, Psalm 78:44–50 is a pretty clear reference to the first nine plagues on Egypt, Psalm 78:51 brings in the tenth. Verse 49 appears as a summary of the first nine plagues. You could argue angelic involvement in the first nine plagues, based on Psalm 78, but not the tenth.


On the other hand, scripture refers to the tenth plague in terms of God's direct action, without an intermediate. Exodus 11:4ff and Exodus 12:12ff both make the claim that God would go through Egypt, judging it. That is unique to the tenth plague: in the first nine plagues, God in heaven acted against Pharaoh on earth. Only in the tenth plague does God claim He will come down. In the tenth plague – and only the tenth – God's presence in Egypt is promised.


This isn't some obscure point of minutiae. While I admit this is a subtle point, it is significant. God doesn't entrust the redemption of His people to angels. He takes direct action.

Notice that while Scripture is silent on angelic involvement in the Passover, there are certainly "destroying angels" in Scripture.  2 Samuel 24:15ff, 2 Kings 6:15ff, Psalm 78:49, and Revelation 9:11 are just a few examples. I have no doubt such angels exist. The point isn't that such angels don't exist, the point is that Exodus makes the express claim that God acted directly in the Passover, and makes no mention of those "destroying angels."


Psalm 8:3 describes the heavens as the work of God's fingers. Pharaoh's magicians described the plague of gnats as "the finger of God" (Exodus 8:19). God describes His redemption of Israel from Egypt as requiring His out-stretched arm (Exodus 6:6, Exodus 15:16). There is a progression here: creating the heavens took only God's fingers. But He used His out-stretched arm to redeem His people from slavery. 

Do we appreciate how important God makes redemption? Do we appreciate that He put more effort into redeeming Israel than He put into making the heavens?

Do we appreciate that our full and final redemption from sin cost Him even more? Do we appreciate that the Son of God "bore our sins in His body on the tree?" (1 Peter 2:24).

God, who spoke the world into existence, suffered the pain and loss of giving His Son for us. This ought to touch our hearts.




 


 

  

Saturday, November 4, 2023

If anyone sins

I don't think we can talk too much about God's forgiveness, Christ's advocacy, or our own need of Him.

We all sin. " for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). We are guilty of sin ("all have sinned") and we all continue to fail ("all... fall short"). There is no one who does not continue to sin. 

Our response to this fact is telling. We might respond by leaning into it, perhaps even celebrating it. "We all sin" we might say dismissively, while our passions rule us and drive us deeper and deeper into it. 

We might respond with a less enthusiastic – but equally useless – resignation. "We all sin" we might say, shrugging with a defeated sigh.

But Scripture lays out something different. The first response to our sin is on Christ's part. "If anyone sins" – not, "if anyone repents" – "we have an advocate with the Father" (1 John 2:2). It's important for us to recognize that Christ doesn't wait for us to repent, to confess, or to pray. No, whenever we sin, He is our advocate with the Father. Long before we feel any sense of remorse, He is already working on our behalf with the Father in heaven.

Our response to sin is laid out in 1 John 1:9, "if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins." It's remarkable that it is Divine justice that is linked to our forgiveness. God's justice demands He forgive us when we confess, because Christ has already paid for our sins. What an amazing thought, that the same justice that we would expect to drive God to wrath to punish us for our sins actually drives Him to forgive us, because Christ has died for us (cf. Romans 3:24–26).

There's a tendency for us to think that we earn God's forgiveness by our confession, which shows just how fallen we are. There is no merit in confession, it's simply an acknowledgment. It's saying what God already knows: we have sinned.

The language of 1 John 1:9 has a sacramental sense. It's for our benefit: we can point to confession and say, "I know God has forgiven, because I have confessed, and He promises to forgiven when I confess." The fact is that we have forgiveness of sins as a present blessing (Colossians 1:14). God doesn't wait for us to confess before He forgives. But we need that assurance of forgiveness. We need to know that He has forgiven, and so we have this answer: "if you have confessed, then I have forgiven." And we can point to that confession as a sort of a receipt of forgiveness.

Of course we still have a tendency to hang on to guilt, and we really insult God in doing so. We act like God's forgiveness is all well and good, but we need something more. It's an unimaginably arrogant thing for us to think that God might have forgiven me, but my standards are higher than His. It's a wicked thing to think.

And of course we might need to make amends to some other person. If we have sinned against our brother or sister as well as against the Lord, we might need to ask their forgiveness as well. But the fact remains that God is the most injured party regardless of whom else we have hurt.

We recognize, too, that our confession of sins is really a tangible result of Christ's advocacy for us, and the Holy Spirit's work in us. It's not our idea to confess our sins to God, but His. When we confess our sins and have that receipt of forgiveness, we come to understand that it's because Christ had already been advocating for us – even while we were still sinning – that we were brought to our knees to confess.

It's worth bearing this in mind. It's worth contemplating this. "Whoso is wise, let him observe these things, and let them understand the loving-kindnesses of Jehovah" (Psalm 107:43).

Monday, September 25, 2023

Intentional sin

For as long as I can remember, I've heard that there's no sacrifice in the Mosaic Law for intentional sins. I'm sure that's not a true statement, because Leviticus 6:1–7 outlines the trespass offering.  The trespass offering is prescribed for when someone defrauds his neighbor or swears falsely. These are undoubtedly intentional sins. 

Notice the difference in the descriptions of the the sin offering outlined in Leviticus 5:1ff and the trespass offering in Leviticus 6:1–7. The sin offering is for sins committed in ignorance, while the trespass offering is for sins committed knowingly. So yes, the Mosaic Law does have an offering for intentional sins.

Nevertheless, the Law does tell us that there is no offering for sins committed "with a high hand" (Numbers 15:30–31). So the question is, how do we reconcile Numbers 15:30–31 with Leviticus 6:1–7? If we take any intentional sin to be sins committed "with a high hand," then we have a real problem. But it seems to me we are to understand sin committed "with a high hand" to refer to a specific type or category of intentional sin. In other words, not every intentional sin is committed "with a high hand."

When Paul addressed the synagogue in Antioch of Pisidia (Acts 13:14ff), he told them that there is forgiveness for those who believe in the Lord Jesus "from all things from which ye could not be justified in the law of Moses" (Acts 13:39). That's an astonishing claim, and it would have been even more astonishing to the people listening to him than it is to us today. But it's nothing more than a succinct statement of the doctrine of justification by faith (faith alone in Christ alone) taught in Romans 4:1–8. There we read that the one who believes is a "man to whom [the] Lord shall not at all reckon sin" (Romans 4:8, quoting Psalm 32:2). 

And we should probably pause here (as we should pause so many times in Romans) and ask, do we really believe that? Do we really believe what Romans 4:1–8 teaches? I'm sure I often fall short of believing those words, even though I'm convinced they are God's own words. Our actions reveal what we truly believe, and my actions betray my own heart every time I look for some sort of penance, some sort of payment for sins that I commit. Every time I act like it's incumbent on me to make atonement for my own sins, it reveals that I really don't believe that God has already justified me freely from all sins.

Here's a question: have you ever confessed the same sin to God more than once? I know I have, and it revealed my own heart: it revealed I didn't really believe He forgave me the first time. 

But if we go back to Romans 8:1–8 or Acts 13:38–39 or Colossians 2:13–15, then we have to say that believing God means believing in absolute, final, unlimited forgiveness. It means that thinking we've sinned too much this time is unbelief. It's calling God a liar. It's thinking that our standards are higher than His. It's flattering ourselves that what Christ could not accomplish in dying for us, we can accomplish with some tears, some remorse, and maybe some ritual.

In a word, it's sin.

So let's take some time to bask in the completeness of the forgiveness that is ours at Christ's expense. There is no sin that God hasn't already forgiven those who believe on His name. Yes, even sins committed "with a high hand." 

Getting back to the question of the Mosaic Law, it seems to me the Law reveals two terrible things about us in those passages. First, if we're honest, we have to admit we've all sinned "with a high hand." None of us can say that every sin we've committed has been committed inadvertently. And if we're really honest, not one of us can say we haven't sinned deliberately, defiantly, and daringly. We've all sinned with a high hand.

But to me the far more troubling lesson is the lesson of the sin offering: we've all sinned inadvertently, perhaps even unknowingly. The law of the sin offering teaches us that we can be guilty without even knowing it, because we are sinners by nature. We can incur guilt without any effort at all, even without realizing we've done it. It's not merely that we sin, but that we are sinners. That's the real lesson of the sin offering. 

And the more deeply we realize it, the more deeply we learn to appreciate Romans 4:1–8.


 

Sunday, September 3, 2023

Seeing

I've taken some flak in Bible readings for this, but I think it's worth making a small point that could be helpful. We'll start in Exodus 14:27–31, and observe – as we have several times already – that Israel was saved when they saw the Egyptians dead on the shore. This passage gives us a clear idea what salvation is: it's not merely escaping slavery in Egypt, it's not even escaping the judgment on Egypt, it's seeing the enemy defeated and lifeless on the shore.

So there is a subjective sense to salvation: it's not just that the Egyptian army was dead and lifeless on the shore, it's that Israel saw them there. The Egyptians lying dead on the shore is a fact: it's objectively true. But salvation isn't only objective truth, it's also subjective acceptance of that truth.

And we all know this on some level: the Gospel is laid out in 1 Corinthians 15:1–8, four propositions about the Lord Jesus: His death, His burial, His resurrection, His appearing to witnesses. That's the Gospel. But it doesn't do me any good unless I believe it (note 1 Corinthians 15:1–2 opens with this claim). We could point to numerous other verses: John 3:16, Romans 4:5, Ephesians 2:8–9. These all tell us that we come into the good of the Gospel by believing God.

I would argue that all spiritual progress, from justification by faith alone in Christ alone to the highest spiritual height, is a result of accepting what God has said. God says that Christ has died for my sins, but I only really come into the good of that when I accept that it's true.

Romans 6:1–14 is a good example of this. There's a real problem (Romans 6:1–2), there is a solution resting on God's declaration (Romans 6:3–7), and we come into the good of it as we accept (count on) it being true (Romans 6:11) and then there are practical exhortations flowing from that (Romans 6:12–14).

And I recognize I'm repeating myself here, but it's worth repeating: we can't skip those steps. I've read a whole lot of commentary on Romans 6. I've listened to a whole lot of sermons on Romans 6. But so much of it turns into drivel, and it's because most of it tries to skip to a favorite verse. It doesn't work that way! We can't skip the explanation of God's view of things in vv. 3–7 and try to get to the "reckoning" part in v. 11. We can't skip straight to the "practical" part in vv. 12ff. No, we need to work through it. We need to hear God's view of things, really immerse ourselves in it, and then align our mindset with that (which is all "reckoning" is) before we can live it out.

Now, we can point out that really, we have died with Christ whether we reckon it to be true or not. That's really the teaching of vv. 3–7.  But someone who feels trapped in sin is looking for something more: skipping from vv. 3–7 to vv. 12ff isn't going to help that person. That person needs v. 11.

And here's where I've gotten into trouble in Bible readings: it's not enough to go from "this is what God sees" to "this is how you should live" without the pause of "reckoning." Not only in Romans 6, but in every single passage. We need that pause of "reckoning" in Colossians 3:1–5, in Philippians 3:9–11, in Ephesians 4:1ff. We need it in all those passages. Because "here's what God sees" doesn't help us in practical terms until we see it too.

That's the lesson from Exodus 14:27–31,  a big part of salvation is seeing what God sees. It takes a change of mind, an accepting that what God says is true, even if we think we know better. We need to "see" the truth that's presented to us before it does us any good.

And so when we come to Philippians 3:9ff, we see being "in Christ" as an aspirational thing ("that I may be found in Him"). It's not that I'm not a man in Christ, but it's that we don't get the practical good of that unless our thinking is aligned with God's. No, I cannot make myself a man in Christ. Yes, God sees me as a man in Christ regardless. But if I want to come into the practical benefits of being a man in Christ, I have to be aligned with what God sees. And in Philippians 3:9ff, being a man in Christ means having no righteousness of my own. Until I accept that I have no righteousness of my own, I may be a man in Christ as far as God is concerned, but I'm struggling against it.

So sometimes I speak about our position in Christ in aspirational terms. That's not because I don't believe it's true, but because I'm trying to emphasize that we won't get the good of it until we come to believe, accept, and "see" that what God says is true. It's when I stop struggling against it that I come into the good of it. 




Wednesday, August 30, 2023

The least you could do

It's not uncommon to hear preachers say something like, "Christ died for you, the least you could do is to live for Him." It's worth noting that the epistles make no such claim. In fact, they seem to say the opposite. Consider 2 Corinthians 4:7–12 as an example, or Galatians 2:20.   "[I]t is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me" (Galatians 2:20, LSB). It's worth spending some time meditating on this.

Deuteronomy 29:4 makes the startling statement that God had not given Israel eyes, ears, and a heart to perceive what He was doing for them in the wilderness. What they needed was not more evidence of God's goodness to them (Deuteronomy 29:2–6), but Divine intervention and transformation so that they would understand what they had seen.

This theme is developed more fully in the prophets (Jeremiah17:9; Ezekiel 36:25–27), in the gospels (John 3:3ff; John 15:4ff), and in the epistles (Romans 7:4–6; Romans 8:1–8; Galatians 6:15). The testimony of the whole of Scripture, from the Pentatuech through the epistles, is that man cannot please God without a fundamental transformation that he is unable to achieve himself. It is only God's intervention that can make man capable of pleasing God.

Romans 5:12ff centers on this simple truth: man is not simply guilty, he is lost. Our problem is not merely that we are guilty before God (the focus of Romans 1–3), but that we are by nature opposed to Him. The problem is not only that we have sinned, but that we are sinners. And it might surprise us to realize we were sinners before we ever sinned (Romans 5:19). We are like the scorpion that stung the frog, "because that's what scorpions do." We sin because we are sinners, not the other way around.

At the root of the exhortation, "Christ died for you, the least you can do is live for Him," is the hidden assumption that we are not lost, merely guilty. Our guilt means we need forgiveness and atonement, but once that has been accomplished, we are capable of trying again – and getting it right this time! We have a clean slate. It rests on a denial that fallen man is truly lost.

The clean slate approach has already been tried and been found wanting. Exodus 31 – 34 detail the initial giving of the Law at Sinai, the failure of Israel to keep it, God's grace in sparing the bulk of the nation, and then His giving the Law again. 2 Corinthians 3:7–16 alludes to Exodus 34, especially Exodus 34:29ff. The verdict is that the Law, delivered for the second time, is the "ministry of death" and the "ministry of condemnation."

For many years, I took "the ministry of death" in 2 Corinthians 3:7–10 to refer to the giving of the Law in Exodus 32:19ff. But we know for certain that's not correct: the veiling of Moses wasn't a feature of Exodus 32, but of Exodus 34. So what 2 Corinthians 3 calls "the ministry of death" (2 Corinthians 3:7) and "the ministry of condemnation" (2 Corinthians 3:9) is explicitly not the first giving of the Law, but the second: it's law after forgiveness.

I've quoted this passage by JND before, but it's worth quoting again:

[T]he people, though spared by grace, were put back under law; and this was the ministration of death and condemnation of which the apostle speaks. For, in fact, if atonement be not made, grace only makes transgression worse, at any rate in the revelation of God; even in partial glory, with law it must be condemnation to a sinner. Law after grace, in a word, is what the apostle teaches us is condemnation; law after atonement is worse than absurd. It is putting away the sin, and then putting under it, or making the law of no authority and no effect. But vague grace - sparing, and then law, is the state of multitudes of souls; and that is what the apostle tells us is death and condemnation in its nature, and indeed the veil is soon over the reflection of grace to the soul (that is, the perception that exists of grace is soon lost).
– J. N. Darby, "Show me now thy way", Collected Writings, Volume 19, p. 181


Notice how the exhortation, "Christ has died for you, the least you can do is live for Him" parallels the giving of the Law in Exodus 34. Putting responsibility for obedience on those who have been forgiven – because they have been forgiven – is not the Gospel. It's the "ministry of death."  This is what Luther might call "mixing Law and Gospel."

We might note, too, that obedience predicated on completed redemption isn't Gospel at all: it's pure Law. Consider Exodus 20:1–2. The Mosaic Law was predicated on a completed redemption from slavery in Egypt. God wasn't promising them He would deliver them from Egypt if only they would obey: He reminded them that He had already delivered them from slavery in Egypt, and thus He had a right to demand obedience. This is identical in principle to what is so commonly taught as "gospel" today.

The principle of grace – grace as opposed to law – is that God gives freely, demanding nothing in return. This is not the principle of Exodus 34, which put forgiven men and women back under law. This is something entirely different.

And so we ask the same question Paul asks in Romans 6:1, "so shall we just continue in sin then?" And like every question in Romans, this one tests whether we've been paying attention. If the Gospel taught in Romans 1–5 demands obedience, then that question would never be there. The question is there, because if we truly hear the Gospel taught in Romans 1–5, we'll be wondering whether we should just continue in sin. If more sin means more grace (cf. Romans 5:20–21), then doesn't that mean we can increase grace by continuing in sin?  If we don't see the question in Romans 6:1 as the logical one to ask, then we've been adding something to the Gospel of Romans 1–5. 

W. H. Griffith Thomas points out:

Before considering the Apostle's treatment of this question it is essential to observe that the very fact of such a question being possible shows with unmistakable clearness the true meaning of the Apostle's Doctrine of Justification (St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, p. 165)

 

And don't let's misquote Romans 6:1. It doesn't say, "can we continue in sin?" the answer to that is a resounding "Yes!" Praise God, if we continue in sin, then grace will abound. That's not the question.

The question is, "shall we continue in sin?"  That's a different question, and it has a different answer.

No one who says, "Christ has died for you, the least you can do is live for Him" will ever be asked, "shall we continue in sin?" That person is on entirely different ground than Paul was. That question is the logical follow-up to Paul's Gospel. If no one's asking us that question, then we're preaching a different Gospel than Paul was. (Alan Gamble pointed this out brilliantly in a sermon I can no longer find online.)

And what's Paul's response to that question? Does he say, "may it never be! Christ has died for you, the least you can do is live for Him!" No, he does not. He responds, "may it never be! How shall we, who are dead to sin, live any longer in it?" (Romans 6:2). It's not that we should cease sinning out of gratitude. It's that we should cease sinning because we have died to sin.

God's remedy for guilt is that Christ died for us. Dying in our place, He paid the penalty we owed.

God's remedy for our lost-ness – for our entire inability to please God – is that we have died with Christ.

Notice how Romans 6:1–6 makes a mockery of the notion that "the least you could do is live for Him." God doesn't want our life! We were so lost that His remedy is to put us to death. Our life – the life that we inherited from Adam – was a life incapable of pleasing God (Romans 8:1–8, especially vv. 7–8). In and of ourselves, we cannot please God

 

I cannot stress enough that obedience based on gratitude for accomplished redemption isn't Gospel, but Law. It is exactly the opening statement of Exodus 20. We are no more capable of keeping the Law after forgiveness than before it. Our problem isn't that we lack gratitude (although we do), but that we lack power. This is what Romans 6–8 addresses.


The scriptural remedy for our lost-ness involves three things. First, we are freely justified from all guilt through faith in Christ (Acts 13:39, Romans 4:1–8). God wants nothing from us to make amends for our guilt: we are utterly helpless in the face of the crushing debt we owe, and any attempts to make payment for it mock God's righteousness. God forgives us because – and only because – Christ has died for us. There is no other remedy for our guilt before God. "[T]he one who does not work, but believes upon Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness" (Romans 4:5, LSB). There is no other remedy that God acknowledges.

Second, we are delivered from the power of sin over us by our death with Christ. This is Romans 6:1–14, it's God's answer to the question, "so should we just continue in sin?" The answer is that God has already intervened for us, in the death of Christ, so that we are invited to see ourselves as God sees us. As far as God is concerned, when Christ died, I died. When Christ was buried, I was buried. When Christ rose again, I rose again. When Christ ascended, I ascended. I am a man "in Christ," and my life is tied up with His. Darby points out that Romans only addresses the first two: in Romans we have died with Christ and been buried with Him, but we haven't yet been raised with Him (cf. Romans 6:5). In Colossians, we have died with Him, been buried with Him, and been raised with Him (Colossians 3:1–4). But in Colossians, we still haven't ascended with Him. In Ephesians, though, we have gone all the way with Him, and are seated in the heavenlies with Him (Ephesians 2:4–6).

There is human responsibility in Romans 6. The first command in the book of Romans is in Romans 6:11, "consider yourselves to be dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus" (LSB). So there is something we need to do: we need to consider ourselves to be dead to sin. This isn't some sort of psychological technique, it's not wish fulfillment or "manifesting" or whatever other pop psychology pseudo-spiritual nonsense you might hear about. This is accepting by faith that God sees us as having died with Christ, and accepting His invitation to see ourselves the same way. This is our acquiescence to God's statement that we died with Christ. This is us saying, "whatever my opinion may be, God's opinion is the one that counts."

Third, we are empowered by the Spirit of God to "walk in the Spirit" (Galatians 5:16ff, Romans 8:1–17). Notice the parallels between Paul's ministry in Galatians and Romans, and John's in John 15:1–11. The language is different, the descriptions are the same. What John calls "abiding in Christ" is what Paul calls "walking in the Spirit." 

Now, it's important to note that conflict isn't over yet. In fact, conflict hasn't really started. When the children of Israel left Egypt, they were delivered from Pharaoh's army at the Red Sea without any fight at all: it was entirely God's fight, and they were simply told to "stand still" and watch (Exodus 14:13–14). In fact, Scripture only says they were "saved" when they had seen the dead bodies of the Egyptians on the shore (Exodus 14:30–31). In a similar way, we are invited to look at ourselves dead with Christ (Romans 6:5–11). But once they had gotten through the Red Sea, they had to engage in conflict with the Amalekites (Exodus 17:8ff).

As an aside, one of the worst things so many preachers do today is invite us to conflict with the Egyptians. We aren't called to put sin to death, but to consider ourselves to have died to it (Romans 6:5–11). The Israelites weren't told to fight with Pharaoh, but to watch his destruction. They were called to fight with Amalek. In exactly the same way, there is conflict for us too, but we don't get to that conflict until we have learned to "stand still and see the salvation of the Lord."

 

Scripture doesn't teach, "live this way out of gratitude," but "live what you are in Christ." We are called into a new creation: we are new creatures in Christ Jesus (2 Corinthians 5:17), that is our motivation. Just like we used to sin because we were sinners, now we should live righteously because we are in Christ Jesus (Ephesians 4:1ff, Romans 12:1ff).

But notice this isn't something that God calls lost men and women to do! This is something we are called to do only after we have seen ourselves as dead and buried with Christ. We can't skip Romans 6 on the way to Romans 12. We can't skip Ephesians 2 on the way to Ephesians 4. It just doesn't work that way. It's worse than foolishness.


So with all that said (and it was a lot), here are just some of the problems with "Christ has died for you, the least you can do is live for Him."

First, it assumes that God wants my life. He does not, what He wants is the "life of Jesus" in our mortal bodies (2 Corinthians 4:7–12). What good is the life of a fallen man or woman to God? What value is a lost sinner to Him? Forgiven or not, the life of a lost sinner is of no spiritual value at all. It's the life of one who has died with Christ, has been buried with Him, has been raised with Him, and is looking for Christ to come back for him – that's the life that pleases God. It's not until we can say, "Christ, who is our life" (Colossians 3:4) that we have a life God can use.


Second, it supposes an independent life. The Lord Jesus said, "apart from Me you can do nothing" (John 15:5). The entire discussion in John 15:1–11 centers on the self-evident fact that a branch on its own is useless. We don't produce fruit for God on our own: we produce fruit for God as the True Vine bears fruit through us. Forgiven, but lost, men and women are no more capable of pleasing God than unforgiven men and women. As new creations in Christ Jesus (2 Corinthians 5:17), we are capable of pleasing God, but...

The single hardest thing for us to learn is that the rules are different in the New Creation. In New Creation, life is from God Himself, we don't have it on our own (cf. John 6:26ff). Adam had some measure of life independent from God. The life of the New Creation in Christ isn't like that (1 John 5:11–14). No, the life of the New Creation is life that is hidden in Christ. We don't look to live autonomously. This isn't a life where we can go off and work hard to produce something and bring it back to God, as Cain did. It's a life where every breath, every step, every action has to be taken as an outflow of the life of God Himself in Christ Jesus.

 

Third, it assumes we can achieve righteousness. This is probably the most lingering aspect of carnal religion. Just like cockroaches seem to survive no matter what we try to do to rid ourselves of them, we cling to the carnal concept of producing righteousness for God until the bitter end. We need to stamp that out: we need to beat it mercilessly until it lies lifeless at our feet, and then we need to beat it some more.

The righteousness men and women can produce are of no value to God (Job 22:3, Isaiah 64:6).

A man in Christ Jesus has no righteousness of his own. This the plain statement of Philippians 3:8–11. Righteousness of our own is necessarily on the principle of law (Philippians 3:9), and that's a principle that can only condemn us (Romans 4:15). Law cannot produce righteousness, but that's all we have when we try to have righteousness of our own.

In God's view, we are men and women in Christ Jesus. But to come into the practical good of that, we need to embrace Philippians 3:8–11. If we are in Christ Jesus, we have no righteousness of our own. We are no more capable of producing righteousness now than we were then. We must give this up!

It's hard to imagine a more stark contrast than the one between "Christ died for me, the least I can do is to live for Him" and "that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own which is from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God upon faith, that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead."


I'm sure there are many other issues that could be mentioned. I'm sure the comments will fill with other excellent points. But to me, these three are the reasons I reject the notion that, "Christ died for you, the least you can do is live for Him."

 

 

 

 





 


 










 

 



Monday, August 21, 2023

Cornelius and Kelly

I've been listening to some talks on "The Dangers of Calvinism" that are more entertaining than helpful. It's not that there aren't real dangers in Calvinism, but these particular talks are more unhinged rants than careful analysis. And it's frankly sad I have to say that, because the speaker does bring up some good points, but his carelessness throughout makes it all too easy to ignore them.

At any rate, at some point in these talks, the speaker uses the story of Cornelius as a counter-argument to the idea of Total Depravity. According to this speaker, Cornelius was an unregenerate man who feared God, and Heaven took notice of his piety(!).

At the root of his misapprehension is the idea that "salvation," "regeneration," and "conversion" are all synonyms. They are not.

William Kelly can explain this better than I, so I'll stop my own commentary here and quote his.

From Introductory Lectures on the Acts:

It is a fallacy then to suppose that Cornelius had no better than merely natural religion. He was assuredly, before Peter went, a converted man. To regard him as unawakened at that time is to mistake a great deal of the teaching of the chapter. Not that one would deny that a mighty work was then wrought in Cornelius. We must not limit, as ignorant people do, the operation of the Holy Spirit to the new birth. No man in his natural state could pray, nor serve God acceptably, as Cornelius did. One must be born again; but, like many others who had really been quickened in those days (and it may be even now, I presume), a soul might be born again, and yet far from resting in peace on redemption, far indeed from a sense of deliverance from all questions as to his soul. There is this difference, no doubt, between such cases now and that of Cornelius then, — that, before the mission of Peter, it would have been presumptuous for a Gentile to have pretended to salvation; now it is the fruit of unbelief for a believer to question it. A soul that now looks to Jesus ought to rest without question on redemption; but we must remember that at this time Jesus was not yet publicly preached to the Gentiles — not yet freely and fully proclaimed according to the riches of grace. Therefore, the more godly Cornelius was, the less would he dare to put forth his hand for the blessing before the Lord told him to stretch it out. He did what, I have no doubt, was the right thing. He was truly in earnest before God. As we are told here — and the Spirit delights to give such an account — "he was a devout man, and one that feared God with all his house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway."

Such was the man to whom God was about to send the gospel by Peter. Thus we must carefully remember that the gospel brings more than conversion to God. It is the message of life, but it is also the means of peace. Before the gospel was preached to every creature, a new nature was communicated to many a soul; but till then there was not and could not be peace. The two things are both brought us in the gospel — life brought to light, and the peace preached that was made by the blood of the cross. At the same time scripture shows there might be and often was an interval after the gospel did go forth. So from experience we know there is many a man that you cannot doubt to be truly looking to the Lord, yet far from resting in the peace of God. Cornelius, I apprehend, was just in this case. He would no more have perished, had it pleased God to have taken him away in this state, than any Old Testament saint, whether Jew or Gentile. No believer could be so ignorant of God and His ways of old as to imagine there ought to be any doubt about those who nevertheless were full of anxieties and troubles, and through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.

And also from Kelly, from An Exposition of the Acts of the ApostlesChapter 11:

Again, let us remark how clearly this discourse of Peter distinguishes new birth from salvation. Cornelius was assuredly born of God before Peter visited him at Caesarea. Nevertheless Peter was to speak to him words whereby he should be saved. It is a gross mistake to suppose that the salvation which he now found is not far beyond new birth. Present salvation is the first foundation privilege of the gospel. To be born again was always true from Abel downwards. But those who are merely born again do not enter Christian ground until they have received at least the first and most needful blessing, to which the accomplishment of Christ's work entitles all who believe...

The remarkable care with which God introduced the new standing-point [of salvation] to the Gentiles makes this confusion inexcusable. Now, while faith never was without suited mercy from God, it is one of the most marked signs of unbelief to ignore the peculiar privilege which God is now giving, and to go back to that mode or means which may have been at a former time. Here, as has been already and often pointed out, the Evangelicals are as dark as the Sacramentarians. For, if the latter party attach exorbitant efficacy to the mere sign of the blessing, the former are as ignorant of what is signified. Both agree in making the initiatory institution of the gospel to be the sign of life or the new birth; whereas it is really of the remission or washing away of sins (Acts 2:38; Acts 22:16), and of death with Christ (Rom. 6:2-3; Col. 2:12), i.e., of salvation (1 Peter 3:21). Cornelius learnt from the apostle that for a Gentile it was no question any longer of God's uncovenanted mercy. He himself, already born of God and acquainted with the Messiah come for the deliverance of His ancient people by faith, had now to learn of salvation's door open to the Gentile believer as truly as to the Jewish. It is not promise, as hitherto even to an Israelite, it is the work accomplished, and soul-salvation henceforth given to all believers without distinction. As the seal of it, the Holy Ghost was manifestly imparted as on the day of Pentecost.

It's worth taking a look at From New Birth to New Creation by R. A. Huebner, (especially pages 16–17) as well.

We can group Lydia (Acts 16:14ff) and John's disciples in Ephesus (Acts 19:1ff) in with Cornelius. These people were worshiping the one true God before they heard the Gospel. They weren't pagans, they were in the same position as Old Testament saints. For them the Gospel wasn't a call from death to life, but a call into the new order that God has begun with the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ.

Well, I promised that I would limit my own commentary and just use Kelly's, so I'll stop here.