Old Sandals

Of the Perseverance of the Saints

They, whom God has accepted in His Beloved, effectually called, and sanctified by His Spirit, can neither totally nor finally fall away from the state of grace, but shall certainly persevere therein to the end, and be eternally saved.

The doctrine of the perseverance of the saints logically follows from the the first four doctrines of the TULIP acronym. If salvation is absolutely monergistic; if those chosen for salvation are sovereignly chosen, if Christ died for the elect and only the elect, if God’s grace is truly irresistible—then how can it be that the elect would not persevere, especially when it is held that perseverance itself is a gift?

That God’s grace is irresistible, truly irresistible, is to me the weak link in the chain. We may or may not have free will, depending on how it is nuanced, but I believe the Scriptures are clear enough when they warn us that men, even regenerate men, are capable of resisting, to their peril, the work of the Holy Spirit. “Beware, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the living God…” (Hebrews 3:12)

It is also sobering to read Irenaeus (Against Heresies, Book I, Chapter XXVI) when he condemns the Nicolaitans: “The Nicolaitans are the followers of that Nicolas who was one of the seven first ordained to the diaconate by the apostles [and of whom it was said that he was full of the Holy Spirit and wisdom!].  They lead lives of unrestrained indulgence. The character of these men is very plainly pointed out in the Apocalypse of John, as teaching that it is a matter of indifference to practice adultery, and to eat things sacrificed to idols.”

All this being said, I trust (I trust!) in the faithfulness of Christ my Savior, who has promised to never leave me nor forsake me, and to complete that good work He has begun in me.

Of Good Works

We cannot by our best works merit pardon of sin, or eternal life at the hand of God.

The heresy of Pelagianism, the teaching that man can merit or earn eternal life through his own efforts, apart from divine grace, was condemned by the Council of Carthage in 418 A.D.  This does not imply, however, that the early church wrestled with this teaching for almost four centuries before finally condemning it.  Rather, the “faith once delivered” has always affirmed the words of the Apostle Paul, that it was “not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us.” (Titus 3:5)

This central truth has found expression in many hymns ancient and modern, e.g., “Could my zeal no respite know, could my tears forever flow, all for sin could not atone. Thou must save, and Thou alone.”

Of Repentance unto Life

Repentance unto life is an evangelical grace…

Repentance means a turning, a turning from our sins, which lead to death, and a turning to Christ, which leads to life eternal.  Repentance is not a “work” in the sense that it merits salvation.  Salvation is a free gift.  But we cannot receive the gift unless we first repent; unless in fact we keep on repenting.  It is incumbent upon us to repent.  “Unless you repent, you will likewise perish.” (Luke 13:3)

And yet—and here is the mystery—repentance itself is a gift.   “In humility [we ought to be] correcting those who are in opposition, if God perhaps will grant them repentance, so that they may know the truth.” (2 Tim 2:25)

So repentance is a grace, a gift, and yet it is ours to do.  I don’t need to fully understand it.  I just need to do it.

Of Saving Faith

The grace of faith, whereby the elect are enabled to believe to the saving of their souls, is the work of the Spirit of Christ in their hearts.

Catholics and Protestants alike affirm three of the five “solas” of the Reformation, i.e., our salvation is by (and results in):
Sola Gratia – grace alone
Solus Christus – Christ alone
Soli Deo Gloria – (glory to God alone)

Catholics and Protestants are divided, however, concerning the two central affirmations of the Reformation, i.e., Sola Fide (faith alone) and Sola Scriptura (scripture alone). Especially with respect to Sola Fide, I wonder whether the division is not more semantical than substantive.

Certainly the plain reading of Canon 9 of the Council of Trent is suspect. (Trent was the Counter-Reformation council held by the Roman Catholic Church between 1545 and 1563): “If anyone says that the sinner is justified by faith alone, so as to understand that nothing else is required to cooperate in the attainment of the grace of justification…let him be anathema.”

Jimmy Akin, noted Catholic apologist, asserts that what is meant in Canon 9 by “faith alone” is the sense of mere intellectual assent.  If that is so, then substituting the words “intellectual assent” for “faith alone”, we get: “If anyone says that the sinner is justified by intellectual assent alone, so as to understand that nothing else is required to cooperate in the attainment of the grace of justification…let him be anathema.”

Protestants would have much less trouble with this revision, except for the phrase “to cooperate in the attainment of the grace of justification”.  And yet what the Catholic Church means by “[our cooperation] in the attainment of the grace of justification” is very much what the Westminster Confession means when it refers to “the principal acts of saving faith”:  “But the principal acts of saving faith are accepting, receiving, and resting upon Christ alone for justification, sanctification, and eternal life.” Thus it appears that, when carefully articulated, Catholics as well as Protestants affirm the doctrine of Sola Fide, although Catholics prefer the term Sola Fide Formata, or “formed” faith alone. A formed faith is a living faith, a true faith, a faith that “works through love” (Galatians 5:6). This love of God “has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us”. (Romans 5:5)

So then, the Protestant idea of faith  = the Catholic idea of (faith + hope + charity). The two sides of the equation are equal because a faith devoid of hope and which is not expressed through actions is no faith at all. It is rather a dead faith. (James 2:17)

In October of 1999, the Catholic Church and the Lutheran World Federation signed a document known as the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification which stressed that good works are a consequence of entering a state of justification and can never be the cause of entering it:

We confess together that good works—a Christian life lived in faith, hope, and love—follow justification and are its fruits. When the justified live in Christ and act in the grace they receive, they bring forth, in biblical terms, good fruit. . . .When Catholics affirm the “meritorious” character of good works, they wish to say that, according to the biblical witness, a reward in heaven is promised to these works. Their intention is to emphasize the responsibility of persons for their actions, not to contest the character of those works as gifts, or far less to deny that justification always remains the unmerited gift of grace.

Quoting Richard Hooker, noted Anglican theologian of the sixteenth century: “[We see how] the faith of true believers cannot be divorced from hope and love, how faith is a part of sanctification, and yet unto sanctification necessary; how faith is perfected by good works, and yet no works of ours are good without faith; finally, how our fathers might hold, that we are justified by faith alone, and yet hold truly that without good works we are not justified.”

Here it is important to emphasize that both faith and good works are gifts of grace, and that each implies the other.

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them. (Ephesians 2:8-10)

Of Sanctification

This sanctification, although imperfect in this life, is effected in every part of man’s nature.

Sanctification is the process by which we, as believers, are transformed, slowly but surely, into the likeness of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is a lifelong process—even longer than that— for it culminates at the judgment seat of Christ. “Every man’s work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man’s work of what sort it is.” (1 Corinthians 3:13)

Although he is talking about purgatory, these words from Pope Benedict XVI (then Cardinal Ratzinger) are helpful in understanding the purpose and scope of sanctification:

Purgatory is not…some kind of supra-worldly concentration camp where one is forced to undergo punishments in a more or less arbitrary fashion. Rather it is the inwardly necessary process of transformation in which a person becomes capable of Christ, capable of God and thus capable of unity with the whole communion of saints. Simply to look at people with any degree of realism at all is to grasp the necessity of such a process….Man is the recipient of the divine mercy, yet this does not exonerate him from the need to be transformed. Encounter with the Lord is this transformation. It is the fire that burns away our dross and re-forms us to be vessels of eternal joy.

Of Adoption

All those that are justified, God vouchsafes, in and for His only Son Jesus Christ, to make partakers of the grace of adoption.

Amen.

I’m not sure whether adoption is part of the reformed ordo salutis, strictly speaking, but it is certainly part of the package we call salvation. “Beloved, now are we the sons of God.” (1 John 3:2)  Are we justified first, and then adopted into God’s family? Or are we justified because we are adopted?  Following Sinclair Ferguson, we shouldn’t necessarily regard the aspects of salvation as being activated in chain sequence through logical/causal relationships.  Rather, the blessings of salvation become ours through the Spirit, exclusively, immediately, simultaneously and eschatologically in Christ.

Of Justification

Those whom God effectually calls, He also freely justifies; not by infusing righteousness into them, but by pardoning their sins, and by accounting and accepting their persons as righteous; not for any thing wrought in them, or done by them, but for Christ’s sake alone.

The difference between imputed righteousness and infused righteousness has been debated for centuries. Both ideas attempt to explain how justification and sanctification relate to each other.

The Protestant view, and especially the Lutheran and Reformed view, is that we are justified before God because the righteousness of Christ is imputed (i.e, formally assigned or ascribed) to us by faith in Him. It is primarily forensic in nature. Justification is a legal transaction, often referred to as “the Great Exchange”, whereby our sins are imputed to Christ, and His righteousness is imputed to us who believe.  “For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.” (2 Corinthians 5:21)  We are first declared righteous (justified); then we are sanctified through an ongoing, lifelong process.  We are only truly sanctified at the end of our journey.  Justification precedes sanctification.

The Catholic view is that we are justified before God because the righteousness of Christ is infused (i.e., poured into, spread throughout, made to permeate) our hearts so that we share in His righteousness.  “But of Him you are in Christ Jesus, who became for us…righteousness.” (1 Corinthians 1:30)  “Little children,…he who practices righteousness is righteous, just as He is righteous.” (1 John 3:7)  We are given the gift of the Holy Spirit at baptism, our sins are forgiven, and we are infused with what is termed a “sanctifying grace”.   We must be diligent, however, to lead a sanctified life, continually repenting of venial and especially mortal sins. This necessarily involves availing ourselves of the sacrament of Holy Communion. Mortal sins of which we do not repent cause us to lose this sanctifying grace and thus our salvation.  We are only truly justified at the end of our journey. Sanctification precedes justification.

So which is it, imputation or infusion? Or perhaps both? The debate can easily become theoretical. To borrow a line from former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, “What difference, at this point, does it make?” In other words, now that I’m justified, am I living each day like am? Am I repenting each day like I am?

An infused righteousness is certainly part of my justification. After all, the Holy Spirit of God has been given to me! “…having believed, you were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise, who is the guarantee of our inheritance.” (Ephesians 1:13) An imputed righteousness is certainly part of my justification because I have no righteousness of my own. It is only that God regards my faith in Christ—which faith itself is a gift—as righteousness. “But to him who does not work but believes on Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is accounted for righteousness.” (Romans 4:5)

Even though precise distinctions are the stuff of theology, I am not sure that one can be drawn between our justification and our sanctification. When does the one end and the other begin?

“And such were some of you. But you were washed, but you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God.” (1 Corinthians 6:11)

“Of how much worse punishment, do you suppose, will he be thought worthy who has trampled the Son of God underfoot, counted the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified a common thing, and insulted the Spirit of grace?” (Hebrews 10:29)

Our one hope, our common hope, is Christ Himself, “who became for us wisdom from God—and righteousness and sanctification and redemption.” (1 Corinthians 1:30)

In 1986 the Anglican/ Roman Catholic International Commission released a common statement on justification: Salvation and the Church.  I find Section 15 very helpful:

Justification and sanctification are two aspects of the same divine act (1 Cor 6:11). This does not mean that justification is a reward for faith or works: rather, when God promises the removal of our condemnation and gives us a new standing before him, this justification is indissolubly linked with his sanctifying recreation of us in grace. This transformation is being worked out in the course of our pilgrimage, despite the imperfections and ambiguities of our lives. God’s grace effects what he declares: his creative word imparts what it imputes. By pronouncing us righteous, God also makes us righteous. He imparts a righteousness which is his and becomes ours.

Of Effectual Calling

All those whom God hath predestined unto life, and those only, He is pleased, in His appointed time, effectually to call… Others, not elected, although they may be called by the ministry of the Word,…cannot be saved.

The Lutheran understanding of the call of God seems more in line with the overall tenor of Scripture: there is one call unto salvation.  With some it is effectual, with others not. Yet it is God’s serious intent that it be effectual in all. “Many are called.” (Matthew 22:14)  The gospel ” is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes.” (Romans 1:16)

Of Free Will

Man…is not able, by his own strength, to convert himself, or to prepare himself thereunto.

Amen. To say otherwise is to wander into pelagian or semi-pelagian territory.

Yet while I don’t believe we have a free will to choose God on our own, we do have a free will to reject Him—we don’t have the power to say yes, but we do have the power to say no.

Of Christ the Mediator

The Lord Jesus, by His perfect obedience, and sacrifice of Himself…has fully satisfied the justice of His Father.

We are reconciled to God through the atoning death of Jesus Christ. Just how Christ’s death achieves this reconciliation has been and will ever be the source of much pious reflection.

Borrowing from an article written by John McCusker, a Benedictine monk in St.Louis, I believe “it was not the physical suffering and death of Christ which was pleasing to God, but the love and obedience which inspired His passion.”

The Reformed understanding of the atoning work of Christ can be presented in a way that is excessively juridical. A more balanced approach would also value the thoughts of a Thomas Aquinas, “whose understanding of the Passion as atonement, or satisfaction, is not primarily understood as Christ’s substituting himself in suffering the demands of punishment for sin according to the rigors of divine justice, but with reference to the love and obedience Christ offered on our behalf.”  In Aquinas’ own words, “by suffering out of love and obedience, Christ gave more to God than was required to compensate for the offense of the whole human race.”

All this being said, this chapter of the confession is beautifully written, and well articulates the glorious gospel of our Lord and Savior.