I’m in the process of reading What is Faith? by J. Gresham Machen, and am now persuaded that anything written by this man is worth reading. His basic thesis is that faith is not divorced from knowledge, in fact that faith cannot exist without knowledge. Very early, he states the view that he is writing against:
Religion, it is held, is an ineffable experience; the intellectual expression of it can be symbolical merely; the most various opinions in the religious sphere are compatible with a fundamental unity of life; theology may vary and yet religion may remain the same. Obviously this temper of mind is hostile to precise definitions. Indeed nothing makes a man more unpopular in the controversies of the present day than an insistence upon definition of terms. Anything, it seems, may be forgiven more readily than that. Men discourse very eloquently today upon such subjects as God, religion, Christianity, atonement, redemption, faith; but are greatly incensed when they are asked to tell in simple language what they mean by these terms. They do not like to have the flow of their eloquence checked by so vulgar a thing as a definition. And so they will probably be incensed by the question which forms the title of this book; in the midst of eloquent celebrations of faith-usually faith contrasted with knowledge-it seems disconcerting to be asked what faith is.
So, Machen rejects the tendency of his day (this book was published in 1925) to contrast faith with knowledge, and he argues for faith that is based on specific facts. He rejects any notion that there could be different definitions of terms while faith remains the same. The facts give the basis for faith.
Here is how he ends the first chapter:
How, then, shall we obtain the answer to our question; how shall we discover what faith is? At first sight it might seem to be a purely philosophical or perhaps psychological question; there is faith other than faith in Jesus Christ; and such faith is no doubt to be included with Christian faith in the same general category. It looks, therefore, as though I were entering upon a psychological discussion, and as though I ought to be thoroughly familiar with the epistemological and psychological questions that are involved.
Undoubtedly such a treatment of the subject would be highly useful and instructive; but unfortunately I am not competent to undertake it. I propose therefore a somewhat different method of approach. How would it be if we should study the subject of faith, not so much by generalizations from various instances of faith in human life (though such generalizations will not be altogether absent), but rather by a consideration of faith as it appears in its highest and plainest manifestation? Such concentration upon a classic example is often the best possible way, or at any rate one very fruitful way, in which a subject can be treated.
But the classic example of faith is to be found in the faith that is enjoined in the New Testament. I think that there will be widespread agreement with that assertion among students of psychology whether Christian or not: the insistence upon faith is characteristic of New Testament Christianity; there is some justification, surely, for the way in which Paul speaks of the pre-Christian period as the time “before faith came.” No doubt that assertion is intended by the Apostle as relative merely; he himself insists that faith had a place in the old dispensation; but such anticipations were swallowed up, by the coming of Christ, in a glorious fulfilment. At any rate, the Bible as a whole, taking prophecy and fulfilment together, is the supreme textbook on the subject of faith. The study of that textbook may lead to as clear an understanding of our subject as could be attained by any more general investigation; we can learn what faith is best of all by studying it in its highest manifestation. We shall ask, then, in the following chapters what the Bible (in particular the New Testament) tells us about faith.
Machen’s second chapter is entitled “Faith in God.” His emphasis in this portion is stated on the first page of the chapter:
In the first place, the Bible certainly tells us that faith involves a person as its object. We can indeed speak about having faith in an impersonal object, such as a machine, but when we do so I think we are indulging in a sort of personification of that object, or else we are really thinking about the men who made the machine. At any rate, without discussing the correctness or incorrectness of this usage, we can at least say that such a use of the word stops short of the highest significance. In the highest significance of the word-the significance in which alone we are now interested-faith is regarded as being always reposed in persons.
The Persons in whom according to the Bible faith is particularly to be reposed are God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
But-and here we come to the point which we think ought to be emphasized above all others just at the present day-it is impossible to have faith in a person without having knowledge of the person; far from being contrasted with knowledge, faith is founded upon knowledge.
He goes on to give a couple examples of doctrinal assertions about God in the New Testament. Then he says something quite interesting:
... the modern separation between faith in a person and acceptance of a creed is found to be psychologically false. It is perfectly true, of course, that faith in a person is more than accpetance of a creed, but the Bible is quite right in holding that it always involves acceptance of a creed. Confidence in a person is more than intellectual assent to a series of propositions about the person, but it always involves those propositions, and becomes impossible the moment they are denied. It is quite impossible to trust a person about whom one assents to propositions that make the person untrustworthy, or fails to assent to propositions that make him trustworthy. Assent to certain propositions is not the whole of faith, but it is an absolutely necessary element in faith.
This paragraph is crucial. If you miss what he says here the rest of the book will likely make very little sense. Faith (the kind that the New Testament enjoins) can only exist where one affirms facts about God that make Him trustworthy. Faith is not only this assent, but it is never less than this assent.
To end the chapter, Machen gives three ways that we may come to know God: by his works in nature (providence), by our guilty conscience (natural law), and by the Bible (special revelation). General revelation and special revelation. This is going to be a little long, sorry. Here is the last part of the chapter:
The contemplation of the universe, of which we have just spoken, brings us to the very brink of infinity; the world is too vast for us, and all around it is enveloped by an impenetrable mystery. But there is also an infinity within. It is revealed in the voice of conscience. In the sense of guilt there is something that is removed from all relativity; we stand there face to face with the absolute. True, in the humdrum of life we often forget; but the strange experience comes ever again. It may be in the reading or witnessing of a great drama; the great tragedies, in the world’s literature, are those that pull aside the curtain of the commonplace and make us feel anew the stark irrevocableness of guilt. It may also be, alas, in the contemplation of our own lives. But however conscience speaks, it is the voice of God. The law reveals a Lawgiver; and the character of this law reveals the Lawgiver’s awful righteousness.
In the third place, God is known through the Bible. And He is known through the Bible in an entirely fresh and peculiar way. True, the Bible does repeat and enforce what ought to have been learned elsewhere; it does reinforce the voices of nature and conscience; it tells us anew that the heavens declare the glory of God; it presents the law of conscience with a new and terrible earnestness as the law of God. But it does far more than all that; it also presents God in loving action, in the course of history, for the salvation of sinful men. From Genesis to Revelation, from Eden to Calvary, as the covenant God of Israel and as the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, all through the varied course of Bible story, God appears in the fulfilment of one loving plan. The marvel is that it is so plainly the same God throughout. The manner of His action varies; we see the various aspects of His person; He appears in anger as well as in love. But it is plainly the same Person throughout: we rise from the Bible-I think we can say it without irreverence-with a knowledge of the character of God. There is a real analogy here to our relation with an earthly friend. How do we know one another? Not all at once, but by years of observation of one another’s actions. We have seen a friend in time of danger, and he has been brave; we have gone to him in perplexity, and he has been wise; we have had recourse to him in time of trouble, and he has given us his sympathy. So gradually, with the years, on the basis of many, many such experiences, we have come to love him and revere him. And now just a look or a word or a tone of his voice will bring the whole personality before us like a flash; the varied experiences of the years have been merged by some strange chemistry of the soul into a unity of affection. So it is, somewhat, with the knowledge of God that we obtain from the Bible. In the Bible we see God in action; we see Him in fiery indignation wiping out the foulness of Sodom; we see Him leading Israel like a flock; we see Him giving His only begotten Son for the sins of the world. And by what we see we learn to know Him. In all His varied dealings with His people He has never failed; so now we know Him and adore Him. Such knowledge seems to be a simple, an instinctive, thing; the varied dealings of God with His people have come together in the unity of our adoration. And now He is revealed as by a flash by every smallest dispensation of His providence, whether it be in joy or whether it be in sorrow.
As thus made known, surely God is sufficient for all our needs. There is no limit to His power; if He be our champion, we need not fear what principalities and powers and the universe can do. He alone is righteous; His presence will make us spotless as the light. He is loving, and His love will cast out fear. Truly we can say with Paul: “ If such a God be for us, who can be against us?”
But that text begins with “if,” and it is a stupendous “if.” ”If God be for us” -but is God for us? Many persons, it is true, trip along very lightly over that “if”; they have no doubt about the matter; they are quite sure that God is for them. But the curious thing is that those who have no doubt about the matter are often just the ones who are most sadly wrong. The people of Jerusalem at the time of Jeremiah had not doubt; they were quite sure that God was for them; but they went into exile all the same; God was not for them at all. The Jews in the days of John the Baptist had no doubt; were they not God’s chosen people? Even in the darkest days of Roman rule they were quite sure that God would give them the victory. But as a matter of fact the axe was even then laid at the root of the tree. The Pharisee in the parable was quite sure that God was for him when he went up into the Temple to pray-"God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are… or even as this publican.” But the publican, it will be remembered, went down into his house justified rather than he.
These men were all quite sure that God was for them, but they were all entirely wrong. How then may we be sure; and if we become sure, is not our assurance a delusion and a snare? How can we remove the “if” of this text; how can we be sure that God is for us?
One way is to do what is right. God always stands for the right; if we are right, then no matter what men and demons may do God is on our side. But are we right? The Pharisee was quite sure that he was right, but as a matter of fact he was most terribly wrong. May we not be equally mistaken?
No doubt we think we can avoid the Pharisee’s error. God was not for him, we say, because he was sinfully contemptuous towards that publican; we will be tender to the publican, as Jesus has taught us to be, and then God will be for us. It is no doubt a good idea; it is well that we are tender towards the publican. But what is our attitude towards the Pharisee? Alas, we despise him in a truly Pharisaical manner. We go up into the Temple to pray; we stand and pray thus with ourselves: “God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, proud of my own righteousness, uncharitable toward publicans, or even as this-Pharisee.” Can we really venture thus, as the Pharisee did, to stand upon our obedience to God’s law, as being better than that of other men, whether publicans or Pharisees, in order to assure ourselves of God’s favour?
Paul at least said, “No!”; and surely Paul has some right to be heard, since it is he who gave us the heroic text to which we have turned. Paul had tried that method, and it had failed; and the seventh chapter of Romans is a mighty monument of its failure. The power of the flesh is too strong; we are living over the abyss of sin and guilt. Of course we may forget what lies beneath; we may forget if we are willing to live on the surface of life and be morally blind like the Jews before the exile or the Pharisee who went up into the Temple to pray. But when the eyes of our souls are opened, when we catch a terrifying glimpse of the righteousness of God, then we are in despair. We try to escape; we try to balance the good in our lives against the evil; we give tithes of all we possess; we point frantically to our efforts as social workers; and thus we forget the terrible guilt of the heart. Such is the bondage of the law.
But why should we not give up the struggle? It is so hopeless, and at the same time so unnecessary. Is God for us, despite our sin? Joyfully the Christian answers, “Yes.” But why is He for us? Simple indeed is the Christian answer to that question: He is for us simply because He has chosen to be. He surely has a right to receive whom He will into His fellowship: and as a matter of fact He has chosen to receive us poor sinners who trust in Christ; He chose to receive us when He gave Christ to die. It was His act, not ours. The “if” of the text is a stupendous “if”; but such a word is not allowed to stand very long in the eighth chapter of Romans. “If God be for us, who can be against us?” -it is a large “if,” but it melts away very soon in the warmth of God’s grace. “If God be for us, who can be against us? He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things? Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect? It is God that justifieth. Who is he that condemneth?”
Appeal to God’s act alone can enable us to face every adversary. It can of course enable us to face the unjust condemnation of men. What care we what men may say, if we have the approval of God? But it can do vastly more than that; it can enable us to face not only the unjust condemnation of men, but the condemnation of men that is perfectly just. And nothing else on earth or in heaven can enable us to do that. There are some things that the world never forgives. Peter could never, I suppose, have been received again into the society of gentlemen after he had played the traitor under fire. But God chose to receive Him, and upon the rock of his faith the Church was built. There may be some foul spot in our lives; the kind of thing that the world never forgives, the kind of thing, at any rate, for which we who know all can never forgive ourselves. But what care we whether the world forgives, if God has received us by the death of His Son? That is what Paul means by “boasting” in the Cross of Christ. If we could appeal to God’s approval as ours by right, what care we for the blame of men? Such boasting, indeed can never be ours. But we can boast in what God has done. Little care we whether our sin be thought unpardonable or no, little interested are we in the exact calculation of our guilt. Heap it up mountain high, yet God has removed it all. We cannot explain God’s act; it is done on His responsibility, not ours. “I know not,” the Christian says, “what my guilt may be; one thing I know: Christ loved me and gave Himself for me. Come on now ye moralists of the world, come on ye hosts of demons, with your whisperings of hell! We fear you not; we take our stand beneath the shadow of the Cross, and standing there, in God’s favor, we are safe. No fear of challenge now! If God be for us, who can be against us? None, in heaven or in earth or in hell. ‘Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’”
Chapter 3 is titled “Faith in Christ.” Here Machen shows that generic “faith in god” is not the same as a Christian’s faith. He is fighting the modernist doctrine of the universal Fatherhood of God. He says this on the first page of the chapter:
God has done all things well; we are His creatures upon whom He has showered His bounty; but a mighty barrier has been placed between us and Him by the fact of sin.
That fact is recognized in the Bible from beginning to end; and it is recognized with particular clearness in the teaching of Jesus. Jesus does indeed speak much of the Fatherhood of God, and His words are full of comfort to those who are God’s children. But never does He speak of God as being the Father of all men; in the Sermon on the Mount those who can say, “Our Father which art in heaven,” are distinguished in the sharpest possible way from the world outside. Our Lord camenotto teach men that they werealready sons of God, but to make them sons of God by His redeeming work.
Machen of course acknowledges that there is a universality to God’s care for all creatures, but he denies that this is what is meant by the Fatherhood of God narrowly considered.
Here is how Machen ends the chapter:
It cannot be denied: man is a finite creature; he is a denizen of the earth. From one point of view he is very much like the beasts that perish; like them he lives in a world of phenomena; he is subject to a succession of experiences, and he does not understand any one of them. Science can observe; it cannot explain: if it tries to explain, it ceases to be science and sometimes becomes almost laughable. Man is certainly finite.
But that is not the whole truth. Man is not only finite; for he knows that he is finite, and that knowledge brings him into connection with infinity. He lives in a finite world, but he knows, at least, that it is not the totality of things. He lives in a procession of phenomena, but to save his life he cannot help searching for a first cause. In the midst of his trivial life, there rises in his mind one strange and overpowering thought--the thought of God. It may come by reflection, by subtle argument from effect to cause, from the design to the designer. Or it may come by a “sunset touch.” Back of the red, mysterious, terrible, silent depths, beyond the silent meeting place of sea and sky, there is an inscrutable power. In the presence of it man is helpless as a stick or stone. He is as helpless, but more unhappy--unhappy because of fear. With what assurance can we meet the infinite power? Its works in nature, despite all nature’s beauty, are horrible in the infliction of suffering. And what if physical suffering should not be all; what of the sense of guilt; what if the condemnation of conscience should be but the fortaste of judgement; what if contact with the infinite should be contact with a dreadful infinity of holiness; what if the inscrutable cause of all things should turn out to be, after all, a righteous God?
This great beyond of mystery--can Jesus help us there? Make Him as great as you will, and still He may seem to be insufficient. Extend the domains of his power far beyond our ken, and still there may seem to be a shelving brink with the infinite beyond. And still we are subject to fear. The mysterious power that explains the world still, we say, will sweep in and overwhelm us and our Saviour alike. We are of all men most miserable; we had trusted in Christ; He carried us a little on our way, and then left us, helpless as before, on the brink of eternity. There is for us no hope; we stand defenseless at length in the presence of unfathomed mystery, unless--a wild, fantastic thought--unless our Saviour, this Jesus in whom we had trusted, were Himself in mysterious union with the eternal God. Then comes the full, rich consolation of God’s Word--the mysterious sentence in Philippians: “who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God”; the strange cosmology of Colossians: “who is the image of the invisible God, the first-born of every creature, for by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him: and he is before all things, and by him all things consist”; the majestic prologue of the Fourth Gospel: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God”; the mysterious consciousness of Jesus: “All things are delivered unto me of my Father: and no man knoweth the Son, but the Father; neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him.”
These things have been despised as idle speculation, but in reality they are the very breath of our Christian lives. They are, indeed, the battleground of theologians; the Church hurled anathemasat those who held that Christ, though great, was less than God. But those anathemas were beneficent, and right. That difference of opinion was no trifle; there is no such thing as ”almost God.” The thought is blasphemy; the next thing less than infinite is infinitely less. If Christ be the greatest of finite creatures, then still our hearts are restless, still we are mere seekers after God. But now is Christ, our Saviour, the One who says, ”Thy sins are forgiven thee,” revealed as very God. And we believe. It is the supreme venture of faith; faith can go no higher. Such a faith is a mystery to those of us who possess it; it is ridiculed by those who have it not. But if possessed it overcomes the world. In Christ all things are ours. There is now for us no awful Beyond of mystery and fear. We cannot, indeed, explain the world, but we rejoice now that we cannot explain it. To us it is all unknown, but it contains no mysteries for our Saviour; He is on the throne; He is at the centre; He is ground and explanation of all things; He pervades the remotest bounds; by Him all things consist. The world is full of dread, mysterious powers; they touch us already in a thousand woes. But from all of them we are safe. ”Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
I also appreciate the writings of Machen. There is one book on liberalism that I read many years ago that is a classic.
Just a lighter side note on Machen:
I was listening to the White Horse Inn radio show where Rod Rosenblatt, the Lutheran representative, quoted Machen as saying, and I will paraphrase:
‘I would rather be in a room with men smoking cigars, than with a group of pietiistic Christians..
Certain segments of SDAs and Fundamentalists take pride in the things that they don’t do, and because in the things they abstain from, then this adds to their self righteousness.
That’s a great one Stan. I think I remember Darryl Hart talking about Machen’s passion for pipe smoking in this great series of lectures called Historia Ecclesia. If it wasn’t there it might have been on his blog Old Life Theological Society. In any case, Machen had a personal theory that smoking improves theological discussion. This was just one of the many reasons that he was so hard to “label” during the Modernist-Fundamentalist controversy. And yes, Christianity and Liberalism is great. It is a paradigm shifting book. Incidentally, the faculty conference at Westminster Seminary California is titled Christianity and Liberalism Revisited.
Hope the small portions of What is Faith? are helpful. God bless.
Certain segments of SDAs and Fundamentalists take pride in the things that they don’t do, and because in the things they abstain from, then this adds to their self righteousness.
Stan
George Knight in his book ‘I Used to Be Perfect’ brings this point out well. He points out that so many observe the law but ignore the LAW (love). This is why Pharisaism abounds in the SDA church. Many like having a list of negatives to abstain from doing because it gives themselves something to work towards, something they can overcome and accomplish. He says “Nobody is going to be saved by things they did NOT do. Christianity does not work in the negative but in the positive. Anybody can get victory over (insert your typical SDA ‘sin’ here) but it is much harder to actively love our neighbor.”
So many think that because they do not go to movies, eat meat, abstain from caffeine that this makes them sanctified and righteous, but do they visit the sick, help the homeless, clothe the naked and feed the hungry? Do they love their fellow man and woman no matter how dispicable or degenerate he or she might be? The gospel commission is not about ‘don’t do this or that’. It is active.
It is not what you don’t or cannot do that is the test of true Christian faith but how much you love.
When you truly love Christ Jesus, the rest takes care of itself. Wouldn’t you agree?
In Christ,
Very true brother.
There was an older couple did our morning worships during our teacher’s convention this year. Clarence and Donna Schilt put it on. Clarence was a pastor at Loma Linda Church and found himself just going through the motions and struggling with his addictions. This concept changed his life. The presentations were from their DVD series, ‘How to Die Right and Live to Tell About It’. It really opened my eyes to the concept of “surrendering to Christ” instead of “trying harder”. The main premise is that you can’t make the ‘old life’ be good. It isn’t possible. We must die to self and allow the new life in Christ to take over. It was a breath of fresh air for me and would be for all those caught in the SDA sanctification trap of trying to ‘be good’ in our old nature. We bought the DVD set and the book Clarence wrote with his brother.
George Knight in his book ‘I Used to Be Perfect’ brings this point out well. He points out that so many observe the law but ignore the LAW (love). This is why Pharisaism abounds in the SDA church. Many like having a list of negatives to abstain from doing because it gives themselves something to work towards, something they can overcome and accomplish. He says “Nobody is going to be saved by things they did NOT do. Christianity does not work in the negative but in the positive. Anybody can get victory over (insert your typical SDA ‘sin’ here) but it is much harder to actively love our neighbor.”
So many think that because they do not go to movies, eat meat, abstain from caffeine that this makes them sanctified and righteous, but do they visit the sick, help the homeless, clothe the naked and feed the hungry? Do they love their fellow man and woman no matter how dispicable or degenerate he or she might be? The gospel commission is not about ‘don’t do this or that’. It is active.
It is not what you don’t or cannot do that is the test of true Christian faith but how much you love.
The Great Commission is actually about taking the Good News of Christ to the ends of the earth, in the context of the visible, institutional church (the one with preaching, sacraments, discipline, membership). And it’s not about how much we love, but how much Christ loved, and gave himself for the wicked.
guibox - 03 December 2010 09:54 AM
There was an older couple did our morning worships during our teacher’s convention this year. Clarence and Donna Schilt put it on. Clarence was a pastor at Loma Linda Church and found himself just going through the motions and struggling with his addictions. This concept changed his life. The presentations were from their DVD series, ‘How to Die Right and Live to Tell About It’. It really opened my eyes to the concept of “surrendering to Christ” instead of “trying harder”. The main premise is that you can’t make the ‘old life’ be good. It isn’t possible. We must die to self and allow the new life in Christ to take over. It was a breath of fresh air for me and would be for all those caught in the SDA sanctification trap of trying to ‘be good’ in our old nature. We bought the DVD set and the book Clarence wrote with his brother.
This sounds like repackaged Keswick. Reading their website, I’d say it probably is. Two classes of Christians, the haves and the have-nots, those with the second blessing and those without, those who have unlocked the secret to jumpstarting their sanctification and those who haven’t. It’s all the same.
Here’s what Machen says at the end of chapter 4 in What is Faith? about this sort of thing:
A new and more powerful proclamation of that law is perhaps the most pressing need of the hour; men would have little difficulty with the gospel if they had only learned the lesson of the law. As it is, they are turning aside from the Christian pathway; they are turning to the village of Morality, and to the house of Mr. Legality, who is reported to be very skilful in relieving men of their burdens. Mr. Legality has indeed in our day disguised himself somewhat, but he is the same deceiver as the one of whom Bunyan wrote. “Making Christ Master” in the life, putting into practice “the principles of Christ” by one’s own efforts-- these are merely new ways of earning salvation by one’s own obedience to God’s commands. And they are undertaken because of a lax view of what those commands are. So it always is: a low view of law always brings legalism in religion; a high view of law makes a man a seeker after grace. Pray God that the high view may again prevail; that Mount Sinai may again overhang the path and shoot forth flames, in order that then the men of our time may, like Christian in the allegory, meed some true Evangelist, who shall point them out the old, old way, through the little wicket gate, to the place somewhat ascending where they shall really see the Cross and the figure of Him that did hang thereon, that at that sight the burden of the guilt of sin, which no human hand could remove, may fall from their back into a sepulchre beside the way, and that then, with wondrous lightness and freedom and joy, they may walk the Christian path, through the Valley of Humiliation and the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and up over the Delectable Mountains, until at last they pass triumphant across the river into the City of God.
It seems that all of these second blessing movements are after the same thing: assurance. People are looking for assurance, but they are looking for it in all the wrong places, namely, their sanctification. The idea seems to be that at some point people are “justified,” but then after a long time they all-of-a-sudden get a jump start in their sanctification and live the “victorious life.” Basically, the theology states that justification and sanctification are separate events, and that once you get “justified” the rest of your Christian life is spent seeking after the second blessing so you can be victorious over your sin. The problem is, this approach can only kill assurance. The thing sought after is just the thing that gets pushed further and further away, every time you fall back into your sin. This happens every single day in thought, word, deed, and by omission, whether we’re honest with ourselves about it or not.
There are many problems with all forms of second blessing theology, but I think the foremost among the errors is the confusion of law and gospel. The law kills, the gospel makes alive. The law says “do this and live,” the gospel says “it has been done for you.” The law says “be perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect,” the gospel says “now to the one who does not work, but believes Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness.” We never leave the gospel behind to go back to the law as a means of right standing with God. If you find yourself questioning your salvation based on your failures in the Christian life, this is exactly what you’ve done. In reality, you are justified (counted righteous) once for all time. The verdict of the final judgement has already been rendered the moment you receive Christ by faith alone. Justification is once for all time, it is “already.” Sanctification is “already, not yet.” We are sanctified the moment we are united to Christ by faith, and we are not yet sanctified, all at the same time. But assurance can only come from the objective act of God in history, the perfection, satisfaction and victory of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Has anyone tried the things that God has instituted, that He has actually promised to use to bring His people to faith and to nurture them and sustain them in the faith? Has anyone tried sitting regularly under the preaching of the Holy Gospel, and receiving the Lord’s Supper? If you want to know what God thinks of you, go to the Lord’s table. “Take, eat, this is my body, broken for you.” “This is my blood, shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.” What could be more intimite, more comforting in the Christian life than that? Why do we keep searching after all these illegitimate sacraments (higher life conferences, revival meetings, alter calls, re-baptisms, etc.) that God hasn’t instituted?
I disagree with you Nate. The whole premise of this program can be summarized in these phrases. ‘Stop trying to be good enough to save. Your old self cannot do it’. ‘Let go and let God’, ‘Start surrendering and stop trying harder’ It is the anti-dote of so much ‘justification by sanctification’ that permeates people’s thinking. It is in lock step with Christ and Paul.
Do you not believe that ‘He who has done a good work in you will see it to completion’? That cannot happen when we are constantly allowing self rising because we have not crucified it with Christ. Our old selfs are slave to sinful compulsions. It cannot be good. We cannot grit our teeth together and try harder to be a better Christian in our old self. It doesn’t work that way. We must ‘take up our cross’ daily. In other words, our old self must be crucified so that Christ can work fully in us to bring us to where He wants us to be. We can’t do it and we need to stop ‘trying harder’, which is basically what the sinless perfectionists amongst us in the SDA church are promoting. Oh sure, they are saying that we are being good due to the power of the Holy Spirit, but this program is denying that. They are saying that we must ‘die’, not use the Holy Spirit as some sort of crutch through the vessel of the old self.
It has lifted a great load off my back and I see the necessity to crucify self so that the new life can be lived out within me.
Like I said, it is Keswick theology. Check out the link above. Check out this link. Follow the other links from that page, especially the power point.
You won’t get sanctification that way. You’ll get despair. You don’t have the ability to surrender to God any more than you have the ability to love Him, or your neighbor.
There aren’t two classes of believers, those who have had the second blessing and those who haven’t. We’re all Romans 7 Christians just as much as we’re Romans 8 Christians.
As I said, go to the Lord’s table to see what God thinks of you. Christ’s body, broken for you. Christ’s blood, shed for you. That’s it. That’s sufficient.
Like I said, it is Keswick theology. Check out the link above. Check out this link. Follow the other links from that page, especially the power point.
You won’t get sanctification that way. You’ll get despair. You don’t have the ability to surrender to God any more than you have the ability to love Him, or your neighbor.
There aren’t two classes of believers, those who have had the second blessing and those who haven’t. We’re all Romans 7 Christians just as much as we’re Romans 8 Christians.
As I said, go to the Lord’s table to see what God thinks of you. Christ’s body, broken for you. Christ’s blood, shed for you. That’s it. That’s sufficient.
Nate
And you don’t think that Paul’s struggle with self and sin means anything? Of course it does. This is why Paul constantly talked about ‘dying daily’. The struggle we have is with self, our old nature. Paul says ‘I am crucified with Christ, therefore I no longer live. Jesus Christ lives in me’. And yet he said ‘The things I want to do I do not and the things I don’t want to do, I do!’ There is a constant struggle with our sinful nature.
So what do we do?
1) Grit our teeth and try harder to be good while trying to keep our sinful nature at bay
or
2) Submit and surrender self to Christ. Let Him crucify our old nature again and again until He alone lives in our heart.
Perhaps you cannot move past the differences in Arminanism and Calvinism in this regard. If so, we are comparing apples and oranges. From an Arminian perspective, this is what the SDA church and other churches too struggle with. We are trying hard to make self be good when we need to crucify it.
And you don’t think that Paul’s struggle with self and sin means anything? Of course it does. This is why Paul constantly talked about ‘dying daily’. The struggle we have is with self, our old nature. Paul says ‘I am crucified with Christ, therefore I no longer live. Jesus Christ lives in me’. And yet he said ‘The things I want to do I do not and the things I don’t want to do, I do!’ There is a constant struggle with our sinful nature.
So what do we do?
1) Grit our teeth and try harder to be good while trying to keep our sinful nature at bay
or
2) Submit and surrender self to Christ. Let Him crucify our old nature again and again until He alone lives in our heart.
Perhaps you cannot move past the differences in Arminanism and Calvinism in this regard. If so, we are comparing apples and oranges. From an Arminian perspective, this is what the SDA church and other churches too struggle with. We are trying hard to make self be good when we need to crucify it.
You obviously didn’t read the resources I posted. It’s also pretty obvious that you haven’t really read what I wrote either, but you never do. I’m not expecting to convince you. Hopefully people who might read this later will know that what you’ve bought into isn’t an option for reformation Christians.
Did you not see that I said we are Romans 7 Christians? Keswick is the theology that says the people with the second blessing have left Romans 7 behind, not mine. Read the resources I posted.
You’re looking for assurance, right? Where might you look for assurance of salvation? Your own ability to “let go and let God”? Or the Person and work of Christ? That’s what I’m getting at. Check out this link.
Calvinists don’t struggle? Of course we struggle. We’re sinners.
Keswick isn’t Arminian, not in the historic sense, or even in the Wesleyan sense. It’s borderline Pelagian.
This is why Paul constantly talked about ‘dying daily’.
Actually, that was Ellen White who constantly talked about “dying daily.”
Paul said it once and Ellen White twisted it out of context. The context is physical death:
“Otherwise, what will those do who are baptized for the dead? If the dead are not raised at all, why then are they baptized for them?
30Why are we also in danger every hour?
31I affirm, brethren, by the boasting in you which I have in Christ Jesus our Lord, I die daily.
32If from human motives I fought with wild beasts at Ephesus, what does it profit me? If the dead are not raised, LET US EAT AND DRINK, FOR TOMORROW WE DIE.” (1 Corinthians 15:29-32 NASB.)
The context is being in danger of death every day and fighting “wild beasts at Ephesus,” while having the hope of the resurrection. It clearly has nothing to do with “dying to self daily.”
