Pitting Holiness against Holiness

by The Late Frank Turk

As most of you know, I spent most of my childhood reading comic books in the peace and quiet of my room.  On one of those days, my youngest brother came in looking for some affection from his older brother who had his head in a comic book, and the lad innocently asked, "Frank: Who would win in a fight - the Hulk, or Captain America?"

Now: of course Cap would win in a fight, but that is not the point of this brief blog post.  The point is to look with some bewilderment at the question "Which is better: Justification or Sanctification?"

Some of you right now are recognizing that this post is reworked from another one which can't be found anymore on the internet, but I thought the matter was good enough to bring it back from oblivion.  Why? Because the point of theology is not to pit holinesss against holiness to see which one will win -- or whether one or the other is made less for its lack of victory.

Paul, to avoid that sort of untoward dismay, put it this way to good Timothy: "As I besought thee to abide still at Ephesus, when I went into Macedonia, that thou mightest charge some that they teach no other doctrine, Neither give heed to fables and endless genealogies, which minister questions, rather than godly edifying which is in faith: so do. Now the end of the commandment is charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned: From which some having swerved have turned aside unto vain jangling; Desiring to be teachers of the law; understanding neither what they say, nor whereof they affirm."  In Paul's view, it was not a question of whether justification was better than sanctification: rather, it was that justification created sanctification, and those who were teaching and doing otherwise were jangling in vain.

Of course Jesus comes first; of course we are nothing but sinful wretches without him; of course good works do not save us and we have no confidence in them for that.  But for us to say that the good works are therefore not "better" than that which makes them possible seems to forget that we are justified for the sake of doing good works, or as Paul also said, "For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them."

When my brother asked me if a Gamma-Ray mutant could smash the Sentinel of Liberty, he was asking me a question to show how much he knew about something I definitely loved.  He was trying to connect with me over something which should be some common ground -- and at 5 years old, he didn't realize it wasn't the smashing which we both enjoyed most of all.  There's something like that going on here.  I think those of us who are in various stages of reformed intoxication ought to be careful of it. We should be much more worried that we have idolized one kind of holiness in such a way that it has dismantled and buried another kind of holiness which God says is part of the total package.  It leads us to say things like, "my sanctification is more imaged than real," which is an explicit denial of WCF XVI.2 and XVI.3 -- not to mention the letter of James and the last half of the letter to the Galatians.

While we may affectionately ask the question which is "better" in order to establish our bona fides amongst ourselves, the truth is that somehow the thing which ought to be caused is the way we do the things God expects us to do -- and it causes the ordinary grace God has ordained in this world which shows the lost who God really is.

We certainly have an invisible and invincible holiness, but if it doesn't cause a holiness which the world sees and is conflicted over -- that is, one with a beauty it cannot deny, but also it cannot resist hating -- what kind of holiness is that?

This brings to mind another personal anecdote.  When my son was a baby, he was of course the most precious and fantastic child ever born (until his sister was born, at which time I was overcome by the number of perfect children God had given me and my wife) -- but he was also quite perplexed by vocabulary.  For example, every kind of non-vegetable was called "chicken".  And in this state of minimalistic linguistic development, he was frequently out of words for what he meant to say or what he wanted to say -- so much so that he quickly mastered one phrase with gusto: "I! CAN'T! DO! IT!"

This occurred to me recently as he went on a ministry trip with his youth pastor and some of his guys to the local juvenile detention center to share the Gospel with some of the fellows there.  As we debriefed on the way home, my dear lad was telling me of this young fellow he spoke with who said he accepted Jesus, but wasn't sure that he was ready to turn away from sin.  This young fellow confided to my son, "I guess I just have to do better."

My boy had been waiting for more than 15 years to say this to a person for a theological reason, and he was quite proud to tell me that his response to this incarcerated fellow was, "But you! can't! do it!"

Which, of course, sounds a lot like reformed theology -- or at least one kind of reformed theology.  Of course nobody over here affirms that we do anything for justification, or denies that even the regeneration necessary to receive justification is God's work.  But sometimes (as we visited above) we get it in our heads that because we cannot earn justification, justification is better than sanctification, and that somehow being holy ought to cause us to be unburdened by actually being holy.  Because that fellow in prison thought that his participation in the holiness God gives to those who are in Christ is optional, or some kind of hobby, he sounds suspiciously like someone who says something like, "I am so thankful for my right standing with God because, after all, my sanctification is more imagined than real. But my justification is more real than imagined."

Compare that to Spurgeon's recent tweet in the same vein:

The nearer a man lives to God the more intensely has he to mourn over his own evil heart.
— SPURGEON (@SPURGEONdotUS) November 12, 2014

Spurgeon doesn't say his sanctification is mostly imaginary: he says that sin becomes more obvious and our grief over it increases as we draw nearer to God.  Paul, the greatest of sinners (he says), doesn't for a moment doubt he is not yet perfect -- but he also doesn't see that as a ground for saying that his justification is somehow better than his sanctification (or vice versa).  It seems to me that the same fellow who wrote 1Tim 1:15 also wrote 1Cor 11:1a.  For Paul, it's not a question of which is better -- one adorns the other, and one causes or draws out the other.  They are both necessary, and one is not a Christian without both.

So as my boy and I discussed this fellow in prison who is not ready to "try harder," we didn't discuss the fantastic irony and religious metaphor he found.  We discussed the idea that while we don't do a thing to be saved by God -- the saving is all of God -- saved people have something right now to show for this salvation.  We aren't pitting an eternal decree of holiness against an immediate inclination toward holy deeds, or shouldn't be anyway.  We are glorifying God, and enjoying him for ever, starting right now.

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"...he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures..."

by Dan Phillips

(continued from here)

...how could the observers on earth know that this sacrifice had been accepted by the Father? How can you and I know that our sins are finally and fully dealt with by Christ‘s Cross? How do we know that the eternal plan worked?

Our answer comes with the aftermath.

Jesus Accomplished His Work by His Bodily Resurrection 


"Resurrection" doesn‘t mean anything unless it is a bodily resurrection. The Greek word very literally means to "stand back up." What is it that stands back up if not the body that had lain down in death?

So it was in Jesus‘ case. His body was nailed to the cross. His body died. His body was pierced with a spear, and shed blood and water (John 19:34). His body was taken down from the cross, wrapped in linen, and laid in a tomb (Mark 15:46).

If Jesus did not rise bodily, He did not rise in any meaningful sense of the word.

Ah, but what did the women come seeking on that Sunday morning? They sought His body for further burial treatment. And what did they not find? His body (Luke 24:3).

The body was missing, though the grave clothes were left behind (John 20:6–7).

And what was it they encountered that convinced them of Jesus‘ victory over death? The living, resurrected, glorified body of the Lord Jesus. In fact, though cults and false teachers have sought out ways to deny it, the historical narratives go to great pains to stress the physical, material reality of Jesus‘ resurrected body. He still bears the trophies of His contest (Luke 24:40; John 20:27), He can be touched (Matt. 28:9), He eats (Luke 24:41–43)—He has flesh and bones (Luke 24:39). Though His glorified body could be called a "spiritual body" (cf. 1 Cor. 15:44), it is a body, nonetheless.

But why was it important for Jesus to rise from the dead in a material body?

First, this is what Jesus predicted. At the very outset of His public ministry, Jesus announced that He would raise up the "temple" that the Jews tore down (John 2:19). Though His hearers thought He spoke of the physical temple building, He was speaking of the temple of His body (John 2:21). That body would be torn down; and that same body would be raised up. The same body that was whipped, beaten, and mortally
crucified, would rise (Matt. 20:18–19). If that did not happen, Jesus‘ prediction was false, and His whole case is undone.

Second, Jesus‘ bodily resurrection would prove to be the ultimate divine validation of Jesus‘ person and work (Rom. 1:4). Think it through. What would God have had to do to the dead body of Jesus in order to invalidate everything He said? The answer? Nothing! Simply let Jesus‘ corpse lie there dead, as corpses have characteristically done since Adam, and the entire structure of Jesus‘ claims would collapse with a horrendous crash. Jesus‘ resurrection is His Father‘s seal of approval on everything He said and did.

Third (and central for our purpose here), His resurrection shows that His sacrifice for us was accepted. As Paul puts it, Jesus "was delivered on account of our trespasses, and was raised on account of our justification‖ (Rom. 4:25 DJP ). "On account of"—in other words, the resurrection of Jesus attests the fact that God had declared His people righteous because of Jesus‘ sacrifice. We are not justified by His resurrection; His
resurrection proves that we are justified by His death.

Unless Satan can get Jesus back in the tomb—and I don‘t see that happening—I know that God sees me as righteous for Jesus' sake.

(from The World-Tilting Gospel, 128-130)

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Briefly: terror (of a certain kind) and theology

by Dan Phillips

I am making my way through Michael Horton's The Christian Faith, at a glacial pace. It is thought-provoking and instructive, to say the least.

Let me lift out and amen! just one snippet from page 97 which, I think, very nicely adorns and unites a lot of our concerns:

...Calvin judged that many theologians of his day who did not sense the importance of justification before a holy God had not yet sufficiently experienced the terrors of conscience that make the knowledge of God's truth such an urgent enterprise.

Bringing to mind also:

Blessed is the man whom you discipline, O LORD,
and whom you teach out of your law (Psalm 94:12)

Before I was afflicted I went astray,
but now I keep your word (Psalm 119:67)

It is good for me that I was afflicted,
that I might learn your statutes (Psalm 119:71)

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort,  who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.  For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.  If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer (2 Corinthians 1:3-6)

Books are important. They're just not all-important — except the one Book, when learned and lived.

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The Ground of Justification and the Imputation of Christ's Active Obedience

Your weekly dose of Spurgeon
posted by Phil Johnson




The PyroManiacs devote some space each weekend to highlights from The Spurgeon Archive. The following excerpt is from "Justification and Glory," a sermon Spurgeon delivered on Sunday morning, 30 April 1865, at The Metropolitan Tabernacle in London.



ustification has for its matter and means the righteousness of Jesus Christ, set forth in his vicarious obedience, both in life and death.

Certain modern heretics, who ought to have known better, have denied this, and there were some in older times who, by reason of ignorance, said that there was no such thing as the imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ. He who denies this, perhaps unconsciously, cuts at the root of the gospel system.

I believe that this doctrine is involved in the whole system of substitution and satisfaction; and we all know that substitution and a vicarious sacrifice are the very marrow of the gospel of Christ. The law, like the God from whom it came, is absolutely immutable, and can be satisfied by nothing else than a complete and perfect righteousness, at once suffering the penalty for guilt incurred already, and working out obedience to the precept which still binds those upon whom penalty has passed. This was rendered by the Lord Jesus as the representative of his chosen, and is the sole legal ground for the justification of the elect.

As for me, I can never doubt that Christ's righteousness is mine, when I find that Christ himself and all that he has belongs to me; if I find that he gives me everything, surely he gives me his righteousness among the rest. And what am I to do with that if not to wear it? Am I to lay it by in a wardrobe and not put it on? Well, sirs, let others wear what they will; my soul rejoices in the royal apparel.

For me, the term "the Lord our righteousness" is significant and has a weight of meaning. Jesus Christ shall be my righteousness so long as I read the language of the apostle, "he is made of God unto us wisdom and righteousness, sanctification, and redemption."

My dear brethren, do not doubt the imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ, whatever cavillers may say. Remember that you must have a righteousness. It is this which the law requires. I do not read that the law made with our first parents required suffering; it did demand it as a penalty after its breach; but the righteousness of the law required not suffering, but obedience. Suffering would not release us from the duty of obeying. Lost souls in hell are still under the law, and their woes and pangs if completely endured would never justify them. Obedience, and obedience alone, can justify, and where can we have it but in Jesus our Substitute? Christ comes to magnify the law: how does he do it but by obedience?

If I am to enter into life by the keeping of the commandments, as the Lord tells me in the nineteenth chapter of Matthew, and the seventeenth verse, how can I except by Christ having kept them? and how can he have kept the law except by obedience to its commands? The promises in the Word of God are not made to suffering; they are made to obedience: consequently Christ's sufferings, though they may remove the penalty, do not alone make me the inheritor of the promise. "If thou wilt enter into life," said Christ, "keep the commandments."

It is only Christ's keeping the commandments that entitles me to enter life. "The Lord is well pleased for his righteousness' sake; he will magnify the law, and make it honorable." I do not enter into life by virtue of his sufferings—those deliver me from death, those purge me from filthiness, but, entering the enjoyments of the life eternal must be the result of obedience; and as it cannot be the result of mine, it is the result of his which is imputed to me.

We find the apostle Paul putting Christ's obedience in contrast to the disobedience of Adam: "As by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many he made righteous." Now this is not Christ's death merely, but Christ's active obedience, which is here meant, and it is by this that we are made righteous. . . .

Despite all the outcry of modern times against that doctrine, it is written in heaven and is a sure and precious truth to be received by all the faithful, that we are justified by faith through the righteousness of Christ Jesus imputed to us. See what Christ has done in his living and in his dying, his acts becoming our acts and his righteousness being imputed to us, so that we are rewarded as if we were righteous, while he was punished as though he had been guilty.

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God justifies the ungodly

by Phil Johnson

e recently had a commenter who strongly objected to the truth that God justifies the ungodly (cf. Romans 4:5). His argument seemed to be that God cannot righteously justify a sinner unless the sinner first makes himself righteous. Of course that is an utter impossibility. It is also a contradiction of the gospel.

The gospel, not the law, explains how sinners can be justified. The law offers sinners nothing but condemnation.

Here's a video with a brief explanation of the doctrine of justification. This doctrine is the heart and soul of gospel truth:



That video is part of the collection of resources at Jesus.org, a subsidiary of Christianity.com—both wonderful websites that you should bookmark. Poke around and you'll find a handful of videos featuring yours truly. Those were taped last fall while I was in New Jersey. They are unscripted, unrehearsed, off-the-cuff answers to questions given to me by Alex Crain on the spot (so if I stammer, meander, or sound disorganized, that's why).

Enjoy.

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Thank God for the blood of Jesus; but....

by Dan Phillips

Jarring title? Hear me out.

As I drove to work the other day, I prayed. I was thinking about how short I fall in every area of my life: as a father, as a husband, as a Christian, as a churchman, as a blogger, as a friend, as a brother, as a citizen....

Then I said, "Thank God for the blood of Jesus" — and immediately cringed to hear myself pray it.

"Cringed"? Why? How could such an absolute core-truth of Christianity bring a wince, a recoil?

Simple: because I've heard that sort of talk used so often by folks whose concern is to paper over their ongoing, deliberate, unrepentant sin. I've heard Jesus' blood adduced to explain why it makes sense to grant a glorious eulogy to a man who apparently died an open, unrepentant homosexual clergyman; to rationalize ongoing open violence to the fifth commandment; to tut-tut open defection from the Word of God.

And so that is the background against which those wonderful words make me cringe. Listen: Jesus did not shed His blood on the cross to make us feel okay about our ongoing, deliberate, unrepentant sin. Jesus did not shed His blood to make sin okay; He shed it precisely because sin is not okay, has never been okay, will never be okay.

So what about my prayer, my praise? I went on to think just how much I needed and still need the blood of Jesus, all the time, even while striving as hard as I might (as opposed to yielding to sin, like the horrible examples I mentioned). I thought, What if God said "You pick the area of your life that I can judge you on. Pick your strongest, best, most consistent area"? What then? Easy. I'd be doomed, instantly doomed, forever doomed. No sooner would the test be distributed than I'd hear "All right, pencils down. Test over."

We're not talking about ongoing, deliberate, unrepentant sin here, either (on this subject). We're just talking about the weakness, shallowness, inconstancy, inconsistency, and fleshly carry-overs that plague believers. The ongoing reality of Romans 7:14-25. Do we need the blood of Jesus there? Oh, yes, I think we do. I know for a fact we do.

Now here's the final, biting irony: I have this fear that many of those who thank God for Jesus' blood as I mentioned — because of how good it makes them feel about their ongoing, deliberate, unrepentant sin — have not yet been touched by that blood.

Why?

Because that same blood that purchases forgiveness also purchases freedom (Romans 3:27; Ephesians 1:7; Matthew 1:21; Hebrews 9:14). When we die with Him, we die to sin's lordship (Romans 6). If we are still under that unbroken domination, that lordship, we've not died that death. Though we are never and in no way justified because we do battle with sin, justification is the beginning and cause of a lifetime of such a battle. The battle is not a component, but it is an effect.

So thank God for the blood of Jesus.

Not because His blood makes my sin okay, but because His blood makes me okay with God, and delivers me from sin's guilt and power.

Through the shedding of Christ's blood, I am forgiven for my sins (Matthew 26:28), and I am counted perfectly righteous in God's courtroom (Romans 5:9). In Christ I have the price paid to secure my freedom, through His blood (Ephesians 1:7). Christ's blood turned God's wrath from me (Romans 3:25), and cleansed my conscience from dead works, that I might serve the living God (Hebrews 9:14). By Christ's blood I have confidence to walk right into the presence of God without terror (Hebrews 10:19). As I walk in the light, Christ's blood continues to cleanse me from all sin (1 John 1:7). His blood has loosed me from my sins (Revelation 1:5).

In fact, I might bring it all 'round to this:

• The sign that Christ's blood has been applied to me is not that I feel good about my sin
• The sign that Christ's blood has been applied to me is that I am dead to sin and alive to God in Christ, that I continue day by day to turn to Christ from sin, and walk in newness of life.

Thank God for the blood of Jesus.

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Jeremiah 33:16

posted by Phil Johnson

This came to mind while I was preparing my sermon for tomorrow. It's one of my favorite poems, because it reflects my own testimony. —Phil

Jehovah Tsidkenu
by Robert Murray McCheyne

I once was a stranger to grace and to God,
I knew not my danger; and felt not my load;
Though friends spoke in rapture of Christ on the tree,
Jehovah Tsidkenu was nothing to me.

I oft read with pleasure, to soothe or engage,
Isaiah's wild measure and John's simple page;
But even when they pictured the blood-sprinkled tree,
Jehovah Tsidkenu seemed nothing to me.

Like tears from the daughters of Zion that roll,
I wept when the waters went over His soul,
Yet thought not that my sins had nailed to the tree
Jehovah Tsidkenu—'twas nothing to me.

When free grace awoke me by light from on high,
Then legal fears shook me, I trembled to die;
No refuge, no safety in self could I see—
Jehovah Tsidkenu my Saviour must be.

My terrors all vanished before the sweet name;
My guilty fear banished, with boldness I came
To drink at the fountain, life-giving and free—
Jehovah Tsidkenu is all things to me.

Jehovah Tsidkenu! My treasure and boast,
Jehovah Tsidkenu! I ne'er can be lost;
In Thee shall I conquer by flood and by field—
My cable, my anchor, my breastplate and shield!

Even treading the valley; the shadow of death,
This watchword shall rally my faltering breath;
For while from life's fever my God sets me free,
Jehovah Tsidkenu my death-song shall be.

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How Can God Justify the Ungodly?

by John MacArthur

This is part 3 and the last of a series begun here and continued here. At the end of Monday's entry, we were seeing that Scripture says the justification of a sinner is utterly impossible on purely legal grounds.

ow, then, can we be justified? How can God declare guilty sinners righteous without lowering or compromising His own righteous standard?

The answer lies in the work of Christ on our behalf. In Galatians 4:4, the apostle states that Jesus Christ was born "under the law." Obviously, this does not mean merely that Jesus was born Jewish. It means that He was under the law in the Pauline sense, obligated to fulfill the law perfectly as a means of justification.

In this same context, in the span of two verses, Paul twice employs the phrase "under the law." There is a clear logical connection between the last phrase in verse 4 and the first phrase in verse 5: Christ was "made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law.

We've already said that the law cannot be a means of righteousness for sinners. But Christ was no sinner. He lived impeccably "under the law." Hebrews 4:15 tells us He "was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin." He fulfilled the law perfectly, to the letter. First Peter 2:22 says He "did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth." Hebrews 7:26 says He is "holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, and made higher than the heavens." Thus His flawless obedience to the law earned the perfect merit that is necessary to please God.

If Christ was perfectly sinless, then He did not deserve to die. As one "under the law," He would have been subject to the curse of the law if He had violated even one command, but of course He did not—He could not, because He is God. He fulfilled every aspect of the law to the letter—to the jot and tittle.

Yet He did die. More than that, He suffered the full wrath of God on the cross. Why? Scripture tells us the guilt of our sin was imputed to Him, and Christ paid the price for it. Consequently, the merit of His perfect obedience can be imputed to our account. That is the meaning of 2 Corinthians 5:21: God "hath made [Christ] to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him."

His death takes care of our guilt, and His perfect life supplies us with all the merit we need to be acceptable to God. That is how God overcame the two great obstacles to our justification. And as Paul says in Romans 3:26, that is how God can remain just, and justify those who believe in Jesus. Christ has personally paid the penalty for their sin, and He has personally obtained a perfect righteousness on their behalf. So He can justify the ungodly (Rom. 4:5).

Scripture teaches no other means of justification. This is at the core of all gospel truth. As early as Genesis 15:6, Scripture teaches that Abraham was justified by an imputed righteousness. Anytime any sinner is redeemed in Scripture, it is by an imputed righteousness, not a righteousness that is somehow earned or achieved by the sinner for his own redemption.

Romans 4:6-7 says David also knew the blessedness of the man to whom God imputes righteousness apart from works. In fact, this is the whole point Paul is making in Romans 4: Justification has always been by faith, not by works, and through a righteousness that is imputed to the believer. Abraham understood the doctrine of justification that way. David knew the same truth. So from the beginning of Scripture to the end, we are taught that the only merit God accepts is a merit that is imputed to our account. He never pronounces us righteous because of our own works of righteousness.

On the contrary, God says all our righteousnesses are fatally flawed. They are of no more value to God than filthy rags (Isa. 64:6). But that is how God sees our works—no matter how good they are by human standards. They are unacceptable, filthy, to God.

That is why our obedience can never be good enough. That is why those who hang their hope of heaven on their own good works only doom themselves.

How Deadly is Legalism?

All of this should make it very clear that the legalism Paul condemned as "another gospel" is a brand of legalism that seeks to ground our justification in personal obedience rather than the imputed righteousness of Christ. How deadly is such legalism? The apostle Paul suggested it was precisely what caused the majority of Israel to reject Christ: "They being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God" (Rom. 10:3). Turning aside from the perfect righteousness of Christ (which would have been imputed to them by faith), they opted instead for an imperfect righteousness of their own. They mistakenly assumed, like most people today, that the best they could do would be good enough for God.

Here is the good news of the gospel: for everyone who believes, Christ's blood counts as payment for all our sins, and His fulfillment of the law counts as all the merit we need. Romans 10:4 therefore says, "Christ is the end [Gk., telos, "the thing aimed at"] of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth." Christ is the fulfillment of everything the law intended. In Christ, the ultimate goal of the law—a perfect righteousness—is made available to every believer. His righteousness is imputed to us by faith, and that is why God accepts us in Christ and for Christ's sake.

To the apostle Paul himself, this truth had deeply personal implications. He had labored his whole life as a legalistic Pharisee trying to establish his own righteousness by the law. He described his efforts in Philippians 3:4-8:

If any other man thinketh that he hath whereof he might trust in the flesh, I more: Circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, an Hebrew of the Hebrews; as touching the law, a Pharisee; concerning zeal, persecuting the church; touching the righteousness which is in the law, blameless. But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ . . .

What was so important to Paul about dumping all his own righteousness? Why did he count a whole lifetime of good works as mere rubbish? Because he knew it was flawed. And he knew that in Christ he would be the recipient of a perfect righteousness. Notice verse 9: " . . . and be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith."

Any righteousness other than the imputed righteousness of Christ is mere legalism. It is incapable of saving anyone. More than that, it is an affront to God—as if we were to offer him soiled rags and expect Him to applaud us for doing so. That kind of legalism is spiritually fatal.

How Is Christian Obedience Different from Legalism?

It has become fashionable in some circles to pin the label of legalism on any teaching that stresses obedience to Christ. At the beginning of this series I quoted someone who stated that "the whole difference between legalism and true Christianity" is sewn up in the issue of whether we view obedience as a duty.

Biblically, there is no basis for such thinking. The Christian is still obligated to obey God, even though we know our obedience in no sense provides grounds for our justification. That is precisely why our obedience should be motivated primarily by gratitude and love for the Lord. We are free from the threat of eternal condemnation (Rom. 8:1). We are free from the law of sin and death (v. 2), and empowered by God's grace both to will and to do of His good pleasure (Phil. 2:13). We have every reason to obey joyfully—and no true Christian will ever think of obedience as something optional.

We are not under law, but under grace. Far from being a manifesto for antinomianism or a authorization for licentious behavior, that important truth teaches us that both our justification and our obedience must properly be grounded in Christ and what He has done for us, rather than in ourselves and what we do for God.

The doctrine of justification by faith therefore provides the highest, purest incentive for Christian obedience. As Paul wrote to the Romans, the mercies God displays in our justification provide all the reason we need to yield ourselves to Him as living sacrifices (Rom. 12:1). Freed from the penalty of the law—loosed from the threat of condemnation for our disobedience—we are thus empowered by grace to surrender to God in a way we were powerless to do as unbelievers. And that is why the Christian life is continually portayed in Scripture as a life of obedience.

How Does Grace Free Us From the Law?

by John MacArthur

This is Part 2 of a three-part series that we began last week.

he phrase "under the law" occurs at least ten times in Paul's epistles, so we know it is a crucial concept in his theology. In Galatians 3:23, for example, He writes, "Before faith came, we were kept under the law" (Gal. 3:23). Now, however, he says as Christians we are "not under the law" (Gal. 5:18).

I often hear Christians recite the phrase "not under the law, but under grace" as if it meant no standard of law whatsoever is ever binding on believers. Grace is seen as a grand permissiveness, contrasting with the uncompromising moral standard of the law.

One man wrote,

According to Paul, I am not under law. That has radical practical consequences for my Christian life. It means I do not have to look over my shoulder at the law and judge my life by it. The law was a negative standard. It was filled with prohibitions and punishments. Grace is the opposite. It is filled with positive inducements and promises. Which would you rather have as a rule of life? I live under grace, not law. And that means whenever the law brings its negative message—when it says, "thou shalt not"—it does not apply to me.

The notion that no law is binding on the Christian is antinomianism. This type of thinking sets grace against law, as if the two were antithetical. It has some dire theological consequences.

It is crucial to understand that in terms of moral standards, grace does not permit what the law prohibits. "Grace" never signifies the lowering of God's moral demands. The word grace in scripture signifies a lot of things, but licentiousness is not one of them. In fact, those who turn the grace of God into promiscuity are expressly condemned as false teachers (Jude 4).

Grace according to Scripture is the undeserved kindness of a sovereign God. More than that, grace means that God mercifully gives us the very opposite of what our sin merits. Grace includes not merely pardon for our sin, but also the power to live a transformed life.

In other words, the grace Scripture describes is a dynamic force—the sovereign influence of a holy God operating in the lives of undeserving sinners. This is the key to grace: it is God working in us to secure our working for Him (Phil. 2:13). Grace first transforms the heart and thus makes the believer wholly willing to trust and obey. Grace then conveys upon us both the desire and the strength to fulfill God's good pleasure. Far more than mere pardon, grace also is a motive for obedience; it gives us a true love for God; it transforms our lives in every sense. Ultimately grace totally conforms us to the image of Christ (Rom. 8:29). Even now, grace is doing what the law could not do: it is fulfilling the righteous requirement of the law in us (Rom. 8:3-4).

So the moral standard set by the law does not change under grace. Indeed, it could not; it is a reflection of God's character. But divine grace actually empowers us to fulfill the moral demands of the law in a way that the law alone could never do.

Just what does the apostle Paul mean when he says we are not under law? There are two ways Scripture clearly teaches we are not under law:

We are not under the ceremonial law

Paul's epistle to the Galatians uses the expression "under the law" several times (3:23; 4:4-5, 21; 5:18). Paul wrote this epistle to confront the influence of the Judaizers. They were Jewish legalists who were trying to impose the ceremonies and rituals of the Mosaic law on all Christians. According to the Judaizers, in order to become a true Christian, a Gentile first had to become a Jewish proselyte.

Circumcision and the dietary laws became the test issues. This had been a running dispute in the early church from the very beginning. The earliest church council in Jerusalem had been convened to deal with this very question. According to Acts 15:5, some Pharisees who had converted to Christianity rose up and demanded that Gentiles who joined the church be circumcised and directed to obey the law of Moses. Luke records what happened:

The apostles and the elders were gathered together to consider this matter. And after there had been much debate, Peter stood up and said to them, "Brothers, you know that in the early days God made a choice among you, that by my mouth the Gentiles should hear the word of the gospel and believe. And God, who knows the heart, bore witness to them, by giving them the Holy Spirit just as he did to us, and he made no distinction between us and them, having cleansed their hearts by faith. Now, therefore, why are you putting God to the test by placing a yoke on the neck of the disciples that neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear? But we believe that we will be saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus, just as they will." (vv. 6-11).

The council saw a heated debate on the question. But led by James, they ultimately came to consensus: "we should not trouble those of the Gentiles who turn to God, but . . . write to them to abstain from the things polluted by idols, and from sexual immorality, and from what has been strangled, and from blood" (vv. 19-20).

This meant that the ceremonial requirements of the Mosaic law were not to be imposed upon the church. Circumcision could not be required of the Gentiles. Strict adherence to the dietary laws was not to be prescribed. But in order not to offend the Jewish brethren, the Gentiles were asked to abstain from the most offensive dietary practices: the eating of meat offered to idols, the eating of strangled animals, and the eating of blood. Even those restrictions were not imposed as binding matters of legal necessity, but were required of the Gentiles only as a matter of charity toward their Jewish brethren.

How do we know that these prohibitions against eating certain things were not meant to be a permanent standard for the church for all time? As Paul wrote to Timothy, nothing is to be viewed as ceremonially unclean if it is received with thanksgiving (1 Tim. 4:4). But these measures were called for by the Jerusalem Council in the primitive church as a matter of charity to the many Jewish believers who saw such practices as inherently pagan. The apostle Paul summed up this principle of freedom and deference in Romans 14:14-15: "I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself, but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean. For if your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love."

A side note is necessary here with regard to the restriction against "fornication." The biblical prohibitions against fornication are moral, not ceremonial, commandments. So why was it necessary to include a ban on fornication in the Jerusalem Council's instructions? After all, fornication would clearly be deemed morally reprehensible and strictly forbidden under any standard in the early church. And from the beginning the dispute that prompted the Jerusalem Council had to do only with the ceremonial aspects of Moses' law.

The answer lies in an understanding of the pagan religions from which many of these Gentile converts had come. The practice of ceremonial fornication was common. Many of the pagan shrines featured temple prostitutes, with whom acts of fornication were deemed religious experiences. So when they forbid "the things polluted by idols, and . . . sexual immorality," the Council was prohibiting the observance of pagan religious ceremonies. And when they called for abstinence "from what has been strangled, and from blood," they were asking the Gentiles to have respect for the deeply-ingrained scruples of their Jewish brethren, resulting from lifelong obedience to Mosaic ceremonies.

In other words, pagan religious ceremonies were forbidden, and Jewish ceremonies were not made the standard. But charity was enjoined upon all.

It is crucial to see that this Council was explicitly not establishing the Mosaic ceremonial law—or any portion of it—as the standard for the church. The New Testament is explicit throughout that the types and ceremonies of the Law are not binding on Christians. The dietary and ceremonial requirements of Moses' law "are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ" (Col. 2:17). The priesthood and Temple worship of the Old Testament economy also "serve a copy and shadow of the heavenly things" (Heb. 8:5). Christ is the fulfillment of all that, and He is the Mediator of a New Covenant. To cling to the types and shadows of the Old Covenant is in effect to deny that Christ, the One foreshadowed, is superior. Therefore, the ceremonial aspects of Moses' law have no place whatsoever in the Church.

Why did both Paul and the writer of Hebrews view the Judaizers' doctrine as such a serious error? Because by retreating to the types and shadows of the Old Covenant, these people were guilty of replacing the all-important reality of a living Savior with outmoded symbols that only pointed to Him. Their attachment to those now-barren religious emblems necessarily thrust them into a system of works. To return to the Old Covenant was a de facto rejection of Christ in favor of obsolete types and symbols.

In one of the most unusual encounters between two apostles recorded anywhere in Scripture, Peter and Paul had a very public conflict over the question of obedience to the ceremonial law. Paul describes the confrontation in Galatians 2:11-14:

when Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. For before certain men came from James, he was eating with the Gentiles; but when they came he drew back and separated himself, fearing the circumcision party. And the rest of the Jews acted hypocritically along with him, so that even Barnabas was led astray by their hypocrisy. But when I saw that their conduct was not in step with the truth of the gospel, I said to Cephas before them all, "If you, though a Jew, live like a Gentile and not like a Jew, how can you force the Gentiles to live like Jews?"

The issue at stake here was no longer the question of charity toward Jewish brethren, but the whole doctrine of justification by faith. Apparently, even after the Jerusalem Council had rendered its decision, the Judaizers nevertheless reverted to demanding circumcision for every Gentile convert. They were actually suggesting that observance of the ceremonial law was essential for justification. And as Paul suggests, Peter, of all people, should have known better, "we know that a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, so we also have believed in Christ Jesus, in order to be justified by faith in Christ and not by works of the law, because by works of the law no one will be justified" (v. 16).

We are not under the law for justification

The centerpiece of New Testament theology is justification by faith. This is the doctrine that makes Christianity distinct. Every other religion in the world teaches some system of human merit. Christianity alone teaches that the merit necessary for our salvation is supplied by God on our behalf.

Justification is defined theologically as that act of God whereby He declares the believing sinner righteous. When God justifies a sinner, he looks at the person and says, I accept that person as completely righteous. It is a divine "not guilty" verdict—and more. It elevates the sinner from the condemnation he deserves to a position of divine privilege in Christ.

Justification poses a huge theological problem. Proverbs 17:15 says, "He who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the righteous are both alike an abomination to the Lord." In other words, God Himself strictly forbids us to declare a guilty person righteous. And God says definitively in Exodus 23:7, "I will not acquit the wicked."

Two obstacles exist with regard to justifying sinners. One is our sin. We accumulate guilt every time we sin, and true justice demands that every sin be punished. To let an evildoer go unpunished is by definition unjust. So God is obligated by His own perfect standard of justice to exact a full penalty for every sin.

The second obstacle to justification is our utter lack of merit. Not only do we accumulate guilt (or demerit) every time we sin, but we also lack the necessary merit. Even if our slate could be completely wiped clean, all we would have would be a blank slate. But in order to be acceptable to God, we are required to have the full merit that comes with perfect obedience His law. Forgiveness for our sin isn't enough. We still need the merit of an absolutely perfect righteousness (Matt. 5:20, 48).

From the human perspective, those would seem to be impossible obstacles to the justification of any sinner. We can certainly understand the disciples' bewilderment when they saw these same difficulties: "Who then can be saved?" (Matt. 19:25).

However, there were people in Paul's day who thought if they could just be as good as they could possibly be, they might earn enough merit to please God. This was the attitude behind the Judaizers' insistence on adhering to the ceremonial laws. They were trying to justify themselves before God through their own works. They were trying to earn their own righteousness. That is the very definition of "self-righteous."

Jesus' Sermon on the Mount was an attack on that kind of thinking. He pointed to the Pharisees—legalists who kept the law more fastidiously than anyone else. By human standards they were as "good" as it is possible to be. But Jesus said their goodness is simply not good enough to earn God's favor: "I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. 5:20).

Jesus was teaching as plainly as possible that God will be pleased with nothing but an absolutely perfect righteousness. He taught that it is not good enough to avoid killing; we must also avoid the sin of hatred (v. 22). He said if you lust in your heart, it is the same as committing adultery (v. 28). He set the standard as high as possible, and then said if you don't have a righteousness that perfect, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. And thus He condemned us all.

The apostle James perfectly understood that the law's own perfection destroys any vestige of hope we might have for being justified by law. That's why he wrote, "whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it" (Jas. 2:10).

What are we supposed to conclude? That we cannot be justified by the works of the law. It is utterly impossible. The apostle Paul underscores this same truth again and again:

• Acts 13:39: "You could not be justified by the law of Moses."
  
• Romans 3:19-20: "Now we know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God. For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin."
  
• Romans 4:15: "The law brings wrath."
  
• Galatians 3:10: "All who rely on works of the law are under a curse; for it is written, 'Cursed be everyone who does not abide by all things written in the Book of the Law, and do them.'"
  
• Galatians 3:11: "No one is justified before God by the law."

Paul could not state it any more clearly than that. To make the fatal mistake of thinking you can be justified by being good enough to make yourself acceptable to God is to put yourself under the condemnation of the law.

That was the heart of the problem in Galatia. People were teaching that it was necessary to obey the law in order to be justified. In chapter 1 Paul calls this "another gospel," and he pronounces a solemn curse on those who were teaching it.

When Paul spoke of those who were "under the law," he was speaking of people who thought they could be justified by obedience to the law. Two parallel expressions in Galatians make this extremely clear. One is Galatians 4:21: "Tell me, you who desire to be under the law, do you not listen to the law?" (emphasis added). If they had listened to the law itself, they would have heard that it establishes impossible conditions for justification. It condemns those who fail to obey it. For sinners, the law could be a means of condemnation, but never a means of justification. For a sinner to embrace the law as a means of justification is sheer folly. Yet there were those in Galatia who "desire[d] to be under the law" (4:21).

Notice the parallel expression in Galatians 5:4: "You who are seeking to be justified by law" (NASB). Those who were seeking to be "justified by law" in Galatians 5:4 were the same as those who desired to be "under the law" in 4:21.

Therefore, to be "under the law" in Paul's terminology is to be under the law as a means of justification. It is crucial to understand the way the apostle Paul uses this expression. When he says we are not under the law but under grace in Romans 6, he is not discarding the moral teachings of the law. He is not lending credence to any sort of antinomian doctrine. He is not minimizing the sin of disobedience to the moral teachings of the law. He is not disparaging the law itself. In fact, in Romans 7:12, he calls the law "holy and righteous and good"

Paul's consistent teaching with regard to the law is that it can never be a means of justification. And when he says we are "not under law," he means we do not ground our justification in our own personal obedience. We are no longer trying to justify ourselves by obedience to the law. We are justified by grace through faith, not by the works of the law (Gal. 2:16). And therefore we are no longer under the condemnation of the law.

Active Obedience Revisited

by Phil Johnson



've mentioned before that I am a member of the Fellowship of Reformed Evangelicals (FIRE). That organization has a very simple doctrinal statement that is Baptistic and Calvinistic but broad enough to include Sabbatarians and non-Sabbatarians; pre-, post-, and a-millennialists; congregationalist and elder-rule churches; and people of varying opinions on most secondary and tertiary doctrinal issues.

Four or five years ago a question arose within FIRE about the nature of the righteousness that is imputed to those who believe. Is it specifically Christ's righteousness, or is it the righteousness of God generally considered as an ethereal modality? Was Christ's perfect, lifelong obedience as a man born under the law (sometimes referred to as his "active obedience") any part of the righteousness that is imputed to us, or are we saved by His death on the cross ("passive obedience") alone?

What follows is a document I drafted in response to that controversy. If I recall correctly, this document was never formally adopted or published anywhere, because the conflict within FIRE was resolved by a simple appeal to the existing doctrinal statement. But the draft document enumerated several biblical reasons I am convinced Christ's whole life and death—and not His death only—was an essential aspect of the atonement He provided for us. I decided to post the document here because I think lots of Pyro-readers might benefit from the abbreviated outline of key biblical issues related to the question of Christ's active obedience.

As noted in the closing paragraphs below, I'm not entirely happy with the way classic Reformed theology bifurcates the obedience of Christ into two parts. But I'm convinced it is a far more egregious error to adopt any doctrine that suggests our justification simply overthrows or eliminates the relevance of God's law rather than fulfilling it. I also think it is absolute folly to deny that Christ's lifelong obedience to the law has anything to do with the righteousness imputed to those who are united with Him by faith.

Here's the draft document:

FIRE's doctrinal statement explicitly affirms the imputation of Christ's righteousness as the ground of justification: We believe the elect, who are called by grace, are justified in the sight of God on account of the imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ, which is received by faith alone. Also expressly affirmed in the FIRE statement of faith (under the heading "Christ Our Representative") is the principle of Christ's active obedience, meaning that Christ's whole lifetime of perfect conformity to God's law was an integral part of the vicarious work He did for His people: We believe that God sent His Son into the world, conceived of the virgin Mary by the Holy Spirit, unchangeably sinless, both God and man, born under the law, to live a perfect life of righteousness on behalf of His elect people. (emphasis added) The doctrine of Christ's active obedience is currently under attack on several fronts: It is a favorite target of those who advocate the so-called "New Perspective on Paul" (an increasingly popular position influenced by the writings of N. T. Wright). In 2001 a controversial article by Robert Gundry appeared in Christianity Today claiming "the doctrine that Christ's righteousness is imputed to believing sinners needs to be abandoned." (That article prompted a fine defense by John Piper in his book Counted Righteous in Christ). The principle of Christ's active obedience has long been rejected by many in the mainstream of traditional Scofield/Dallas dispensationalism. Norman Shepherd (whose controversial teaching seeks to modify the standard Reformed definition of sola fide) argues against the role of Christ's active obedience in our justification. And the principle of Christ's active obedience has also lately been renounced by some of the proponents of "New Covenant Theology." FIRE remains committed to the truth that Christ's lifetime of legal obedience was an essential aspect of his vicarious work on behalf of the elect. We affirm this doctrine not because of any doctrinaire commitment to Reformed tradition, creeds, or theological systems, but because we are convinced it is biblical. Here is a summary of some of the chief biblical reasons for holding fast to this doctrine: In Matthew 3:15, Christ explicitly said His baptism was necessary "to fulfill all righteousness." Those who deny Christ's active obedience are in effect claiming that nothing but the absence of sin and guilt is necessary to fulfill all righteousness. Of course, Christ was completely devoid of any sin or guilt; yet He insisted on undergoing John's baptism (symbolic of repentance) in order to "fulfill . . . righteousness." On whose behalf did He submit to this ordinance? Clearly He did not do it for His own sake. He had no need of repentance. But He was identifying with—and substituting for—His people. That is why He rendered an obedience that was by no means obligatory for His own sake, and yet He regarded it as necessary. Romans 10:4 says "Christ is the end ["telos"—the completion or the goal and fulfillment] of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes." To deny the role of Christ's active obedience is to teach that the law and Christ's relationship to it are utterly irrelevant to the reckoning of righteousness to believers. In other words, those who deny Christ's active obedience are teaching that redemption is accomplished by the setting aside of the law's absolute demands, not by Christ's perfectly fulfilling the law on our behalf. That overturns the clear teaching of Christ in Matthew 5:17: "Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil." Second Corinthians 5:21 teaches that Christ's righteousness is imputed to believers in exactly the same sense that our guilt was imputed to Him. In other words, justification involves a double imputation: Just as our violation of the law was imputed to Christ, His fulfillment of the law is imputed to us. Any other view destroys the parallelism of that verse. Romans 5:19 clearly teaches that Christ's obedience is the ground of our righteous legal standing. Since a single act of disobedience makes a person disobedient by definition and sets the full weight of the law against him (James 2:10), the "obedience" of Christ in this context must include the whole course of His lifetime of obedience to God. A host of other verses also make legal obedience (not merely forgiveness) essential to true righteousness. "And it shall be our righteousness, if we observe to do all these commandments before the LORD our God, as he hath commanded us" (Deuteronomy 6:25; cf. Psalm 15:2; 106:3; 119:172; Proverbs 12:17; Isaiah 58:2; Romans 6:16; 8:4; 10:5). The distinction often made between "active" and "passive" obedience does not nullify this point: righteousness and obedience are inextricably linked in Scripture. A perfect righteousness clearly requires something more than just the forgiveness of sin. To deny the role of Christ's active obedience in justification is to distort what Paul meant when he described believers as "in Christ"—united with Him in such a way that our very life is hidden with Christ in God (Colossians 3:3). We are clothed in His perfect righteousness—not merely stripped of our guilt (Isaiah 61:10). Indeed, Christ is our righteousness (Jeremiah 23:6; 1 Corinthians 1:30). Furthermore, Christ's "righteousness" consists not merely in His sufferings, but in all his actions (1 John 2:29). Philippians 2:8 suggests that Christ's obedience only culminated in His death. The full scope of the obedience He rendered on our behalf was manifest in His whole life, not merely in His dying. See also Romans 8:3-4. Christ became man for us, not for Himself (2 Corinthians 8:9); and therefore the obedience He owed to the law was for us, not for Himself (Galatians 4:4). Scripture teaches that God's own righteousness involves numerous positive elements—His goodness, His love, His mercy, and so on. So God's righteousness (Romans 10:3) is certainly something more than merely the absence of guilt. The law's promise of life to those who obey would seem to be pointless if Christ somehow obtained life for us without obeying the law on our behalf. Why else would the law promise life for obedience (Leviticus 18:5; Ezekiel 20:11; Luke 10:28)? Note that the law promises life not to the one who suffers, but to the one who obeys. If Christ's active obedience has no relevance to our justification, those promises would add up to nothing but an empty, pointless bluff. The context of Philippians 3:9 makes clear that the ground of the believer's justification is an alien righteousness, not any degree of righteousness we obtain for ourselves. To deny that this is the righteousness of Christ is to diminish His unique role as our proxy, our mediator, and our substitute. There are also several important theological reasons for affirming the role of Christ's active obedience in our justification: Denying Christ's active obedience sets one on a course that inevitably leads to a minimalist, downgraded view of justification. That is why so many of the leading critics of "active obedience" have concluded (quite logically, given the arguments they employ) that nothing positive is imputed to believers at justification. They teach instead that justification is nothing more than the forgiveness of sins, period. That kind of justification would leave believers with no better standing than Adam had before the fall. To portray justification as forgiveness only without any positive imputation is to undermine the biblical doctrine of the atonement. That view actually contains an echo of the Socinian argument, by claiming that merit is unnecessary where you have satisfaction. Some who deny the vicarious efficacy of Christ's active obedience have embraced a principle that is inherently antinomian. The law of God did not need to be fulfilled on our behalf, they say. It was simply overturned and abolished. Thus they relegate the law of God to complete irrelevancy as far as redemption is concerned. Others who deny the vicarious efficacy of Christ's active obedience teach a kind of neonomianism. They make the believer's own legal obedience a condition of final justification. This is a form of works salvation. Justification is a richer, fuller concept than forgiveness. (Christ Himself was "justified in the Spirit"—1 Timothy 3:16.) Justification is a declaration that God regards the believer as fully righteous, perfectly faithful, wholly acceptable to Him. It is not merely an edict that the believer is free from the penalty of sin. To eliminate the declaration of righteousness from our concept of justification (or to tone it down by redefining it as a pronouncement of forgiveness only) is to miss the profoundest aspect of the biblical doctrine of justification (Romans 3:22; 4:6, 11, 22-25; 1 Corinthians 6:11; see also Isaiah 54:17; Daniel 9:24). In effect, any denial of the efficacy of Christ's active obedience renounces the very heart and soul of Reformation theology. For all those reasons we regard any denial of Christ's active obedience as a serious and significant departure from orthodoxy. It diminishes the biblical meaning of justification, waters down the biblical definition of righteousness, and attenuates the biblical doctrine of substitutionary atonement. While we see a legitimate distinction that can be made between Christ's active and passive obedience, we deny that these aspects of Christ's obedience can be bifurcated in any way that makes one or the other unnecessary. The righteousness of Christ is a seamless garment. We refuse to divide what should not be divided. When Scripture speaks of Christ's obedience as the ground of our justification (Romans 5:19), it clearly comprises all the obedience He rendered to God (cf. Hebrews 5:8). Therefore it is our strong conviction that Christ's perfect life of obedience as a man was rendered to God on our behalf, and that any denial or diminishing of this truth that is a disavowal of the plain meaning of the FIRE statement of faith.

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"But" - "Not" - and "So That"

by Frank Turk

But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.

It’s another rich passage we find in Titus from Paul this week, dear Pastor reader, so I want to focus on 3 words here which guide us through this passage – and speak so clearly to the work of a pastor that we must, somehow, get a hold of them.

The main action here, praise God, is “he [God] saved us”. This is of course the foundation of Paul’s message to all the churches and people to whom he writes. But look at what he says here: “he saved us not because of works done by us”. Yes, of course, you think – God did not save us because we deserved to be saved. This is what is meant by the next phrase “but according to his own mercy.”

You know: it’s not “mercy” if you actually deserve to be forgiven – if you have been wrongly accused or have somehow paid your own penalty already.

“Not because of works, but by God’s mercy” is the summary statement of the method of the Gospel. And if you’re reading this blog for the first time or something, and you’ve never heard this before, think about the need for God’s mercy in you. Think of your own shortcomings – even if you’re a pretty good person. God didn’t send Jesus for the purpose of dying on the cross because he wanted to make a grand gesture toward people: he did it because people were baby-down-the-mineshaft lost and someone had to go down there and get them.

But dear Pastor reader, consider it: “Not because of works, but by God’s mercy SO THAT being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.”

The full measure of what it means to be “justified by his grace” and “heirs according to the hope of eternal life” comes up in the next section of this letter, and I know I sort of get boring talking about this, but what Paul is saying here is that somehow we need to be GRATEFUL PEOPLE. Not only did God save us, and not only did God save us not because of our works (meaning: he didn’t save us since our works were so spiffy), and not only was this saving done because God has mercy toward us, but we are now, in his accounting, justified in receiving eternal life.

We are now actually entitled to eternal life because of what God has done for us.

That’s pretty good news, dear pastor – and you could preach that on Sunday in short order. But that’s not half of it, but we are on the verge of the announce of the next generation of Johnson progeny, and I don;t want to have the real preaching get bumped by the happy announcement. We’ll come back to this one next week -- after I win the office pool and Anne & Jedi name the baby "Cornelius Eliasaph Johnson". I was pulling for "Colonel Sanders Johnson", but that seemed too obvious.

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Active Obedience

Your weekly dose of Spurgeon
posted by Phil Johnson

The PyroManiacs devote some space each weekend to highlights from The Spurgeon Archive. The Following excerpt is from the sermon "Justification and Glory," preached on Sunday morning, April 30, 1865, at the Metropolitan Tabernacle in London.

e find the apostle Paul putting Christ's obedience in contrast to the disobedience of Adam: "As by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many he made righteous." Now this is not Christ's death merely, but Christ's active obedience, which is here meant, and it is by this that we are made righteous. Beloved, you need not sing with stammering tongues that blessed verse of our hymn,

"Jesus, thy perfect righteousness,
My beauty is, my glorious dress."

For despite all the outcry of modern times against that doctrine, it is written in heaven and is a sure and precious truth to he received by all the faithful, that we are justified by faith through the righteousness of Christ Jesus imputed to us. See what Christ has done in his living and in his dying, his acts becoming our acts and his righteousness being imputed to us, so that we are rewarded as if we were righteous, while he was punished as though he had been guilty.

This justification then comes to sinners as an act of pure grace, the foundation of it being Christ's righteousness. The practical way of its application is by faith. The sinner believeth God, and believeth that Christ is sent of God, and takes Christ Jesus to he his only confidence and trust, and in that act he becomes a justified soul.

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The bedrock of the Reformation

by Dan Phillips

The crashing juggernaut that Dr. Luther formally (if unintentionally) launched on 10/31/1517 rested on a number of fundamental variances with The Rome Collective.

Of course, one of those central truths was the glorious reality of justification in Christ alone, through faith alone - about which we've written often. But that truth itself, as Luther approached it, could be said to rest on something even more fundamental, and even more shattering to Rome's dreary stranglehold on the souls of men and women.

Note Luther's first of the 95 theses: "When our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, said 'Repent,' He called for the entire life of believers to be one of repentance."

What does the good doctor do here? He reaches back, not to some father, council, nor church ruling, but to the words of Christ Himself. To demolish Tetzel's blasphemies, Luther reaches for Scripture.

But how does this relate to justification? It relates in that Luther did the same in approaching that truth, as well. Of course you know that the light dawned for Luther through his study of Romans 1:17, that in the Gospel "the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, 'The righteous shall live by faith.'" But have you read of the struggle that led up to that discovery?

...I beat importunately upon Paul at that place, most ardently desiring to know what St. Paul wanted.

At last, by the mercy of God, meditating day and night, I gave heed to the context of the words, namely, "In it righteousness of God is revealed, as it is written, "He who through faith is righteous shall live." There I began to understand [that] the righteousness of God is that by which the righteous lives by a gift of God, namely by faith. And this is the meaning: the righteousness of God is revealed by the gospel, namely, the passive righteousness with which [the] merciful God justifies us by faith, as it is written, "He who through faith is righteous shall live." Here I felt that I was altogether born again and had entered paradise itself through open gates. Here a totally other face of the entire Scripture showed itself to me. Thereupon I ran through the Scriptures from memory ...

And I extolled my sweetest word with a love as great as the hatred with which I had before hated the word 'righteousness of God.' Thus that place in Paul was for me truth the gate to paradise

Though a meticulous student of the Fathers and church councils, these studies had not themselves led Luther to truth nor peace. It was Scripture alone that obsessed him, that absorbed his attention. And it was from Scripture alone that Dr. Luther learned the truth that set him - and, through him, countless multitudes of others - free with Gospel liberty.

Sola Scriptura. This is that central truth on which Luther's rediscovery of Gospel grace rested.

You'll recall that this was central to the whole complex of Satan's initial assault. "Oh, really? Has God said...?" Thus Satan infected Eve with the notion that the word of God was unclear and insufficient... when in fact it was both perfectly clear and perfectly sufficient.

When a tactic works well, why abandon it? So Satan evidently reasoned, and he continued this same assault through the millennia. Distractions today, burial under the excrescence of tradition tomorrow, displacement the next day, outright denial the day after that. All aimed at unsettling that one core, central truth: the sufficiency of Scripture.

So today we Pyro's never lack, sadly, for fresh outcroppings to write about. We wish we would run out. We'd love to be able to mark that controversy RESOLVED and move on. But, alas, that day is not yet. Indeed, the apostle says that day will never come, until the Lord Himself does (2 Timothy 4:3-4).

How about Rome? Did Luther's devastating salvo's work the "reform" he hoped would occur? Evangelical creampuffs like to murmur sagely about all the changes and renewals that are (reportedly) happening in Rome. Is it true?

Not so much!

You can read here of "a forceful plea from a key papal advisor to reject the idea of Christianity as a 'Religion of the Book.'" That advisor was Pope Benedict XVI's close and trusted friend, Bishop Salvatore Fisichella, the rector of the Lateran University and President of the Pontifical Academy for Life. Hear Fisichella:

“Many believers, when asked what the phrase ‘Word of God’ means, respond: ‘The Bible,’” Fisichella said. “That response isn’t wrong, but it’s incomplete , or at least it reflects an incomplete perception of the richness present in the expression, and as a consequence it tends to identify Christianity as a ‘Religion of the Book.’”

“In our language, we shouldn’t fall into the ambivalent expression ‘the three religions of the Book,’” Fisichella said, referring to Christianity, Judaism and Islam. Instead, he insisted, Christianity is properly understood as a “religion of the Word.”

“It’s important that we commit ourselves to constructing a culture that sees Scripture as a living word,” Fisichella said. Otherwise, he warned, “we run the risk of humiliating the Word of God by reducing it exclusively to a written text, without the provocative capacity to give meaning to life.”

Fisichella is said to have insisted that "it’s critical to present Scripture in its 'totality' – meaning that it’s part of a living tradition, which is ultimately aimed at salvation." This is an outright denial, in so many words, of the sufficiency of Scripture. Within that denial, unspoken but eloquent, is the recognition that no one would ever get Roman Catholicism out of the Bible itself, no matter how hard they labored.

And this is Rome today, still. Theoretically, the Bible is the Word of God. Actually, it's the word as-explained-by-Rome. I cannot see how an adherent could agree with Luke that the Bereans were "more noble" because they searched the Scriptures for themselves (Acts 17:11). Rome tells us that the noblest thing is to trust the Roman magisterium. Not our lying eyes.

But the insanity is that Rome tries to build this case of the insufficiency of Scripture on Scripture itself. A site titled "Christ did not found a Book. He founded a Teaching Church" tries (and fails miserably) to demote Scripture... by quoting Scripture.

So no, Rome was not reformed.

Nor has Scripture changed: faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ (Romans 10:17). Since faith is God's sole instrument of justification, and the Word brings faith, Satan's tactics remain. Roman Catholicism, emerg*** play-times, PoMo meanderings, charismatic excesses - our adversary doesn't care, so long as the Word is displaced.

Because it is the only weapon he fears (Ephesians 6:17).

The Prince of Darkness grim,
we tremble not for him;
his rage we can endure,
for lo, his doom is sure;
one little word shall fell him.

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How a Toned-Down Gospel Undermines Holiness

by John Newton

herever and whenever the doctrines of free grace and justification by faith have prevailed in the Christian church, and according to the degree of clearness with which they have been enforced, the practical duties of Christianity have flourished in the same proportion. Wherever they have declined, or been tempered with the reasonings and expedients of men, either from a well-meant (though mistaken) fear lest they should be abused, or from a desire to accommodate the Gospel, and render it more palatable to the depraved taste of the world, the consequence has always been an equal declension in practice.

So long as the Gospel of Christ is maintained without adulteration, it is found sufficient for every valuable purpose; but when the wisdom of man is permitted to add to the perfect work of God, a wide door is opened for innumerable mischiefs—the divine commands are made void, new inventions are continually taking place, zeal is diverted into a wrong channel, and the greatest stress laid upon things, either unnecessary or unwarrantable. Hence, perpetual occasion is given for strife, debates, and divisions, till at length the spirit of Christianity is forgot, and the power of godliness lost, amidst fierce contentions for the form.

To sum up this inquiry in few words. The Gospel is a wise and gracious dispensation, equally suited to the necessities of man and to the perfections of God. It proclaims relief to the miserable, and excludes none but those who exclude themselves. It convinces a sinner that he is unworthy of the smallest mercy, at the same time that it gives him a confidence to expect the greatest. It cuts off all pretence of glorying in the flesh, but it enables a guilty sinner to glory in God. To them that have no might, it increases strength; it gives eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame; subdues the enmity of the heart, shows the nature of sin, the spirituality and sanction of the law with the fullest evidence; and, by exhibiting Jesus as made of God, wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption to all who believe, it makes obedience practicable, easy, and delightful.

The constraining love of Christ engages the heart and every faculty in his service. His example illustrates and recommends his precepts, his presence inspires courage and activity under every pressure, and the prospect of the glory to be revealed is a continual source of joy and peace, which passeth the understanding of the natural man. Thus the Gospel filleth the hungry with good things, but it sendeth the rich and self-sufficient empty away, and leaves the impenitent and unbelieving in a state of aggravated guilt and condemnation.

From John Newton, The Works of Rev. John Newton, 4 vols. (New Haven: Whiting, 1824), 2:270.

Mischief and Miscellany

Plus six all-new Po-Motivators® (see below)
by Phil Johnson



     was going to write a substantive post today. Then I decided instead just to link to a smattering of things that have puzzled, amused, intrigued, or appalled me lately. Here you go, in no particular order:

• More moral insanity from Great Britain: "A lap dancer, a lesbian, and a lapsed Christian with a pregnant girlfriend are among the participants on the U.K.'s newest reality show, Make Me a Christian."
  
• James White posts a collection of YouTube souvenirs.
  
• Our own Frank Turk leaves some profound thoughts in another blog's combox regarding the popular notion that there's something unsavory about contending for any mere matter of biblical principle when someone's feelings are involved:
  

  OK—I'm watching this society of christian brothers begin to populate this meta here with "Yes, more love please" affirmations, and I think that's a wholly-biblical, wholly-spiritually-industrious, wholly-useful endeavor: I think that people should think more clearly about the command of Christ to actually do unto actual others as you would have them actually do unto you.     Yes: I agree. In fact, I would take that to the root first before I took it to the blogosphere: you should do unto others in your local church and where you do business every day as you would have them do unto you. Because if that was happening, a few noisy scandal-bloggers would be seen as anomalies and not as a proliferation of the Church lady stereotype of christians. (Small "c" intended.)     The problem—and the issue here is that there is actually a problem and not merely a dysfunctional relational environment—is that the church is sick. Listen: pomos, conservatives, liberals, bloggers, pastors, unbelievers, you add your favorite category of person here—they all agree that the church is sick. The church is not healthy, especially in America.     But what's the cause of the sickness and what's the cure? Is it the rather-nebulous question of "love"? Or is it something less subjective and more actionable—and is there a resource or a proper authority which can spell out for us what the solution is?     This is really funny because I was watching a Steven Colbert clip last week about what was going on at Lambeth, and Colbert—a Catholic—was really beating down on the Anglicans because they couldn't figure out if God thought that gay men should be ordained as priests or bishops. His point, of course, was that there should be some guy they could ask who could sort it out for them.     I agree with Colbert that there ought to be "some guy"—but that guy is God Himself, and the answers lie in His Word, which, btw, is not a collection of Jack-Handiesque comforting maxims. The Bible is full of loving statements, gentle rebukes, and frankly-stark insults against those who are frankly intransigent and wrong.     Love is good. But it's not just one flavor. Expand your palate and taste and see the goodness of the Lord—no matter which flavor you think you like best right now.

• Joel Griffith points me to this article, about author Joe Eszterhas, who says he tried Protestantism and loved the sermon, but felt "empty" because of the lack of liturgy.
  
• Meanwhile, John Schoettler sends me this relevant quote from Spurgeon about the seductive dangers of elaborate liturgy and artificial worship. (Spurgeon also explains his preference for a capella corporate worship here):
  

  There is in human nature a tendency to permit religion itself to become mechanical : priests, temples, sacraments, the performing of services, organs, choirs, all go towards the making up of a machine which may do our worship for us, and leave us all our time to think about bread and cheese and the latest fashions. As cranks, pistons, valves, and cylinders take the place of bone and muscle on board ship, so millinery, bellows and ritual take the place of hearts and spirits in the place of worship. Certain outward appliances may be well enough in their place, but they too easily become substitutes for real heart-work and spiritual devotion, and then they are mischievous to the last degree. The preacher may use notes if he needs them, but his manuscript may steal from him that which is the very essence and soul of preaching, and yet his elaborate paper and his elegant reading may conceal from him the nakedness of the land. Praise may be rendered with musical instruments, if you will ; but the danger is lest the grateful adoration should evaporate, and nothing should remain but the sweet sounds. The organ can do no more than help us in noise-making, and it is a mere idol, if we imagine that it increases the acceptance of our praises before the Lord.

• Anyone who reads church history attentively can hardly help noticing parallels between some of the current soteriological controversies in the Reformed world (I'm thinking especially of the Auburn Avenue/Federal Vision mess; the New Perspective on Paul; and Norman Shepherd's highly nuanced reconstruction of the doctrine of justification by faith) and earlier controversies where some of the same issues and rhetoric were being hacky-sacked around the church chancel (and I'm thinking here about the Oxford Movement/Tractarian controversy, the Mercersburg Theology, and other movements whose leaders have seemed less than comfortable with the principle of sola fide and whose liturgy has tended to elevate the eucharist over the sermon in order of priority). So I've been reading The Parting of Friends: The Wilberforces and Henry Manning by David Newsome and thinking about the parallelisms between then and now. Then I serendipitously came across this rare little number whilst doing an unrelated Google search, and it reminded me that there really is nothing new under the sun. A fascinating read and an eery deja vu experience for those interested in these cyclical controversies.
  
• . . . and finally, I'm sorry, but I just can't help myself:
  

NOTE: if you're still seeing the Escher engraving on the above poster, hit reload. I redid this one, because if you're going to push the limits of fair use on a copyright question, best to use an image belonging to someone who understands the concept of parody. Besides, I like this version better anyway.

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