Green Baggins

In this comment, Jason began a biblical exposition of his understanding of salvation. I want to interact with this on the level he’s been asking. So, here goes. Jason’s words are block-quoted, and my commentary follows.

My basic thesis would be something like this: The gospel is the teaching that, because of the sacrifice and resurrection of Christ and subsequent gift of the Spirit, the love of God is shed forth in sinners’ hearts, enabling them to love God and neighbor, thereby fulfilling the law and gaining eternal life.

I could actually agree with a fair bit of this summary. I just think it is incomplete at one part, and wrong at one part. It is incomplete when he says that “the love of God is shed forth in sinners’ hearts.” This is true, but God’s work in the gospel is not only shed forth in sinners’ hearts, but also shown outside of us on the cross itself. Now, Jason does say “because of the sacrifice and resurrection of Christ and subsequent gift of the Spirit.” However, the way it is worded there makes it seem as though those things are foundational to the Gospel, as opposed to being part of the Gospel itself. Most of the instances of the word “Gospel” that occur in the New Testament are not instances that define what the Gospel is. We must, of course, beware of the word-concept fallacy here. Definitions of the Gospel often occur without the word “Gospel” being present. But one of the most important instances of the word “Gospel” occurring in a context that also defines what that Gospel is is 1 Corinthians 15. Paul talks about the Gospel preached, in verse 1, which the Corinthians received, and by which they were saved. Then, verse 3 defines what that Gospel is: the propitiatory death of Christ (v. 3), His burial and resurrection (v. 4). Then all of Christ’s appearances post-Resurrection are listed next (verses 5-8) as still being part of that Gospel. His definition of the Gospel doesn’t really end until verse 11. Verse 12 starts the discussion about one particular aspect of the Gospel: Christ’s resurrection. So, the Gospel is not just stuff that occurs inside of us, but also stuff that occurs outside of us. I’m sure, at this point, that Jason would agree. Where we would disagree is in the “how” of the application. We would both agree, even, that there are definite internal aspects to salvation applied. God does change us internally by shedding forth His love inside of us. I would just argue that such is sanctification, not justification. More on that later. The part of his definition that is simply wrong is that the internal work of God inside of us is the basis for gaining eternal life. I would argue that it is the evidence of justification, and is therefore the necessary result of justification, not part of justification itself.

First, I would insist—contra some Reformed guys like VanDrunen—that in order to learn the gospel we need to start with Jesus and then look for his teaching echoed in the other NT writers (rather than saying that we should begin with Paul). So keep that in mind: Jesus gets the first and last word.

This is hermeneutically wrong, I’m afraid. Jesus does get the first and last word. But ALL the Bible is the Word of God, the communication of God, which He gave to us in Jesus Christ, Who is not only the subject of revelation, but also the object of that same revelation. Jesus spoke just as much through Paul’s words as He did through His own on earth (Hebrews 1 shows this conclusively, equating all of the “last days” revelation with the revelation of the Son). So, Jesus’ words in the Gospels are not somehow more (or less!) fundamental than the words of Paul. The reason that Reformed guys like VanDrunen argue for starting with Paul is simply that Paul is MUCH more full on the topic of justification than Jesus was. Paul has the most complete discussions of justification. So, wouldn’t it make sense to go to the most developed place where such doctrine is taught? When Jesus preaches about the Gospel, He primarily ties it to the Kingdom of God. And, in preaching to Israel, that makes a great deal of sense. He is telling them that what they were expecting has now broken into history. However, Jesus devotes much less time than Paul did to the discussion of how the gospel is applied to us.

On several occasions Jesus taught that love of God and neighbor fulfill the law and prophets (the golden rule in Matt. 7, his answer to the scribe in Matt. 22). In fact, in Mark’s account of the question about the greatest commandment, the scribe, after hearing Jesus’ answer, goes on and says that Jesus spoke truly, and that love for God and neighbor are more important than sacrifices and burnt offerings. Jesus then encourages him that he is “not far from the kingdom of God” (which leads me to believe that Jesus’ intent was not to use the dual command of love as a first-use, pedagogical tool that the scribe should have realized was impossible to keep. This love, I think, is the “righteousness that exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees” that Jesus spoke of in the sermon on the mount. In other words, that righteousness is not just more exact obedience than they offered already (as if), but a qualitatively different kind of obedience, one flowing from the heart, wrought by the NC gift of the Spirit.

No Reformed person I know of would disagree that love of God and neighbor fulfills the law and the prophets. We would merely qualify that by quoting Galatians 3:10, which quotes, in turn, Deuteronomy 27:26: “Cursed is everyone who does not continue in all things which are written in the book of the law, to do them.” Incidentally, that verse certainly seems to see the law as a list of things to do or not do. Verses 11 and 12 of that same chapter (Galatians 3) contrast the two ways of justification: the hypothetical way of doing the law that no one can do (verse 11), and the way of faith (verse 12). The reason no one can do the first way is verse 10: no one can keep the entire law, and we are under a curse if we do not do all those things. But the essence of all those things IS love. The final kicker, and the essence of the Gospel as applied to us, is verse 13 of that chapter. The curse of verse 10 comes on Christ in verse 13 by a vicarious substitution (“having become a curse for us”). Now, having been justified (and I would argue, at the same time as justification, but not included in it), we also receive the promise of the Spirit through faith (verse 14). That the words of the law CANNOT be limited to boundary markers, or ceremonial works of the law (like the NPP and the RCC have affirmed) is proven from the all-inclusive nature of verse 10: “ALL things written in the book of the law.” Not merely some things, but all things. Of course, circumcision is included. But the works of the law are not limited to circumcision. In other words, to get back to the main point: no one can love God as they ought. Love for God and neighbor in this chapter of Galatians is equivalent to works of the law, which equals the way of justification that is not possible, because we are under the curse. In short, we cannot be justified by our love for God and neighbor. That the law does indeed have a pedagogical use in this chapter is confirmed by verses 23ff. To limit the law to boundary markers or ceremonial aspects of the law simply doesn’t work in verse 24. Love of God is only possible when we are sanctified, which means that justification must happen some other way. Faith in Christ, which is everywhere in Galatians 3 contrasted with works, is what justifies.

As to Mark’s account of the scribe, the passage proves too much. The scribe described the Roman Catholic position on love for God and neighbor (and Reformed, I might add!) fairly accurately. So why is he described as “not far from?” Why is he not described as “hitting the nail on the head?” If that is what is required for justification, then he has it right. The reason is that one element is missing in the scribe’s reasoning: how you get into the kingdom is not the same as how you live once you are in it. What the scribe described, then, is what life looks like in the kingdom of God. But how you get there is a different thing. So, it is not actually necessary for the Reformed view to look at this description of law as purely first-use pedagogical. The scribe is also describing what the Reformed would talk about as the third use of the law. It was the first use of the law that the scribe was missing, while he was describing the third use.

As to Christ’s statement in the SM about a righteousness that exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, I agree that it exceeds in kind what the Pharisees and the scribes tried to do, and I can even agree that such obedience is from the Holy Spirit imbuing us with that ability. I disagree that this is the way we are justified (which is hardly in the context). Jesus’ words have to do with what is necessary, not what is causative. This is especially true when He talks about entering the kingdom of heaven. Yes, we do not enter the kingdom of God without works. But we do NOT enter the kingdom of God BECAUSE OF our works, either. Turretin describes it well when he says that our good works are necessary for salvation not in a causative sense, but in a resultative sense. They necessarily follow. So, they are necessary. But they do not cause our salvation. Neither does our love for God or neighbor. Our good works are the result of God’s sanctifying work inside of us. And, to give a glimpse of where I’m going in the next few posts: the passages that connect good works to the final judgment are evidentiary in nature, not causative. The world will want to know whether our faith is genuine. At that point, God will trot out our works and show the world that our faith was genuine, and that the verdict already rendered in our lifetimes is a true verdict. That’s what our works will do on Judgment Day.

Over on Called to Communion, Bryan has critiqued my friend Nick Batzig’s post on imputation in justification.

In this post, Bryan Cross attempts to delineate two different paradigms for understanding what it means to keep the law. What he describes as the Protestant paradigm is the “list” paradigm, which he describes in these words:

In the list paradigm, perfect law-keeping is conceived as keeping a list of God given precepts. According to this paradigm, perfect law-keeping requires perfectly and perpetually keeping (and not in any way violating) every single precept in the list. In the New Covenant, we are given more gifts for growing progressively in our ability to keep the law, but nevertheless, nobody in this life keeps the list perfectly. All fall short of God’s perfect standard of righteousness. That’s the paradigm through which Batzig views God’s requirement of righteousness for salvation.

Cross compares and contrasts this paradigm with what he calls the “agape” (Greek word for “love”) paradigm:

In the agape paradigm, by contrast, agape is the fulfillment of the law. Agape is not merely some power or force or energy by which one is enabled better to keep the list of rules, either perfectly or imperfectly. Rather, agape is what the law has pointed to all along. To have agape in one’s soul is to have the perfect righteousness to which the list of precepts point. Righteousness conceived as keeping a list of externally written precepts is conceptually a shadow of the true righteousness which consists of agape infused into the soul. This infusion of agape is the law written on the heart. But the writing of the law on the heart should not be conceived as merely memorizing the list of precepts, or being more highly motivated to keep the list of precepts. To conceive of agape as merely a force or good motivation that helps us better (but imperfectly, in this life) keep the list of rules, is still to be in the list paradigm. The writing of the law on the heart provides in itself the very fulfillment of the law — that perfection to which the external law always pointed. To have agape is already to have fulfilled the telos (Greek word for “end,” “purpose,” or “goal,” LK) of the law, a telos that is expressed in our words, deeds, and actions because they are all ordered to a supernatural end unless we commit a mortal sin (bold and italics original).

Cross’s critique of Batzig’s exegetical arguments are examples of his explication of this list paradigm versus agape paradigm difference.

He argues:

He (Batzig, LK) uses the list paradigm in order to argue for the extra nos conception of imputation. Catholic doctrine, however, is formulated within the agape paradigm. So using the list paradigm to construct an argument against the Catholic doctrine of justification presupposes the Protestant position in the very methodology by which the argument is constructed. It loads the premise “Protestantism is true” into the very argument by which one attempts to show that Protestantism is true and Catholicism is false.

I would encourage people to read the comments. Nick Batzig and Jerry Koerkenmeier have done an excellent job responding to Bryan Cross, especially on the exegetical points. I want to talk about the whole paradigm argument.

First point (regarding the last paragraph quoted above): one can turn this argument right on its head. A Romanist paradigm assumes the Romanist position in the very methodology by which the argument is constructed. Without actually arguing for the paradigm itself, Cross is simply saying that there are two different paradigms. No doubt he would say that he has argued for it. Does he argue with exegesis? Well, his point concerning “Christ our righteousness” doesn’t have any exegesis to go along with it. He only quotes the Catechism of the Catholic Church and Aquinas’ Summa Theologica. In answering Batzig’s exegesis on Romans 4, he only quotes Trent. That is not exegesis. Again, read Batzig and Koerkenmeier’s comments and you will find some exegesis.

Secondly, even if his description of the two paradigms is true, that does not make the Protestant position circular. This is because assuming a list paradigm is simply not the same thing as saying or assuming that “Protestantism is true.” Those are two completely different statements. Again, assuming the list paradigm is true for the moment, that hardly constitutes the totality of Protestantism. Cross is here guilty of extension. This is what happens when a person looks at a statement or assumption and extends it beyond what the original statement or assumption meant, and then refuting the extension, instead of the actual statement or assumption. Protestantism includes Sola Scriptura, for instance, not a doctrine directly implied in the list paradigm.

Third point, and this point regards the whole list paradigm-agape paradigm: this is, quite simply, a false dichotomy. What Protestant fails to recognize that the heart of the law is love? Isn’t this what Jesus says when asked which is the greatest commandment? He says that the greatest commandment is to love God, and the second greatest is to love neighbor. Protestants have almost universally understood this to mean that the first four commandments have as their heart the love of God, while the second six commandments have as their heart the love of neighbor. So, law-keeping has NEVER been solely about keeping a list of commandments, although it certainly includes that, as I think even Cross acknowledges. Law-keeping has always been about loving God and loving neighbor. That is the heart of the law. It is also a clear reflection of the character of God, Who is love. The moral law, therefore, is an expression of the very character of God.

The point, then, is that the Protestant position has NEVER assumed what Cross says it assumes. Imputation is NOT just about Christ’s obedience to a list of commands, which obedience is then imputed to us. It is also about Christ’s love for His Father, and His love for His neighbors, which is imputed to us. It is, therefore, BOTH Christ’s obedience to a list (which the TEN Commandments certainly are!), AND His love for God and love for neighbor that is imputed or reckoned to us. It is the fulfillment of everything the law is, including its very heart of agape. Quite frankly, Cross has not understood the Protestant position very well here. On other occasions, I have seen him do fairly well describing the Protestant position, but I don’t recognize ANY Protestant position in what he describes.

The real question is this: does the Protestant doctrine of imputation itself assume a list paradigm? How can it? The idea of imputation doesn’t directly address the question of how Jesus obeyed the law. It rather addresses the question of how Christ’s righteousness becomes ours. So, Jesus could have obeyed the law any number of ways, and that would be immaterial to whether we get that righteousness by imputation or infusion. What Cross has not even remotely demonstrated is that imputation itself assumes a list paradigm. This, I would think, would be difficult, if not impossible, to prove.

In looking at the comments, there are a couple more things necessary to say. Firstly, though this is indeed debated in Protestantism, I would disagree with Cross’s claim that Protestants do not believe that a person can be truly righteous internally. This made me think of a very important thing that Rick Phillips said at the recent Gospel Reformation Network conference in February. He said that when the Holy Spirit comes to dwell inside of us, we are no longer totally depraved. The remnants of sin still cling to us, yes. However, wherever the Holy Spirit is inside us, that place (if you want to think spacially as metaphorical) is no longer totally depraved. This follows from the doctrine of regeneration. We have a new nature. Sometimes Protestants are so gung-ho about total depravity, that they forget the nature of the change wrought in us by the Holy Spirit. It is a real change. The doctrine of “T” in TULIP, then, is NOT true of the believer. This does not mean that we are ever perfect. Perfection is for eternity. However, it does mean that we can be really righteous internally, the imperfection also being covered by the blood of the Lamb.

Secondly, Nick and Jerry surely got the better of Cross exegetically when it comes to Romans 4. Cross’s claim that when Paul uses Abraham as a paradigm for believers in Romans 4 and Galatians 3, that it was not in every respect that Abraham was a paradigm is an evasion. The particular aspect in which Abraham is a paradigm is with regard to imputed righteousness apart from any aspect of his own law-keeping and apart from any ceremony or sacrament! This is explicitly true in Romans 4:11 (Cross’s claim that the New Testament sacraments are greater than the old is ably answered by Jerry in comment 77).

One last point. Cross claims that justification is a process because imputation happens more than once in Abraham’s case. Firstly, it is startling to see any Romanist speak favorably of imputation. Secondly, Abraham was not reckoned righteous before God in the justificatory sense more than once. To simply quote James 2, as if that settled the matter without any exegesis or acknowledgment of the reams of Protestant exegesis, simply ignores the issue. “Dikaioo” can be used in more than one sense. When wisdom is justified by her children, it does not mean that wisdom was declared not guilty on the basis of the imputed righteousness of Christ. It means that wisdom was shown to be in the right. This is an evidentiary sense of “dikaioo,” not a declaratory. I would argue, therefore, that James is talking about showing faith to be genuine, when he uses the word “dikaioo.” This is supported by the contextual factors of the (false) claim to have faith in verse 14, and the explicit reference to “show me” (twice, no less!) in verse 18. James is not talking about being right before God, but about being shown to be right before God. So, in Abraham’s case, he was declared to be justified in Genesis 15. He was shown to be righteous in Genesis 22 (which fact James references in 2:21, the actual event that proved that Abraham was in fact justified).