Kevin DeYoung's Blog, page 163

Still a Place for Priorities

I like Russell Moore. He is a powerful preacher and an elegant writer. In particular, I'm thankful for his work on orphans, adoption, and abortion. I like him so much I asked him to write the chapter on "Kingdom" in Don't Call it a Comeback. We are on the same team.

But I want to make a few comments on his recent blog post "Gospel or Justice, Which?" Instead of repeating a number of points I make with Greg Gilbert in our book What is the Mission of the Church?, I'll simply add some brief thoughts to the mix.

1. I completely agree that Jesus ministered to bodies as well as souls. Moreover, part of his motivation was a profound sense of pity for those who were diseased and distressed. Jesus cared for hurting people. Luke 7:13: "And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, 'Do not weep.'" If we care nothing for those who are sick, who are confused, who are sad—if we have no desire to see hurting people with hurting bodies be helped, then we do not have the heart of Jesus. I think this is Moore's main point, to which I say "Amen." I'm grateful for the beautiful reminder.

2. It's not quite right to say the mission of Jesus is the mission of the church (at least not without several qualifications). We are not God incarnate. We do not turn away the Father's wrath. We do not die for the forgiveness of sins. Jesus' mission was to give his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45). This is not our mission.

3. We ought to be careful with the word "mission." Moore demonstrates that God cares about vertical and horizontal reconciliation and that God is deeply concerned with personal, cosmic, social, and vocational healing. He shows that God wants Christians to love their neighbors and that love is holistic. All of this can be proved from the Bible. But demonstrating that something is important to God and should be important to us is not the same as proving that these good things constitute the church's mission. We spend a lot of time on this point in the book.

4. While Jesus clearly attended to physical needs in his earthly ministry, we nevertheless see that he placed a priority on verbal proclamation. Take Mark 1:38, for example. Jesus was up late the previous night healing sick people and casting out demons (32-34).  Then he got up early in the morning to be alone and pray. But before long, Peter comes along, saying, "Jesus, everyone is looking for you." In other words: "Here you are all alone, and everyone wants to see you. There are more sick people, more demon-possessed. The folks in Capernaum want you to bring more people to you." But look what Jesus says in verse 38: "Let us go on to the next towns, that I may preach there also, for that is why I came out." "Came out" means "came out in public." Jesus is giving the purpose for his ministry. Verse 39 makes clear that he wasn't done casting out demons. But that is not why he came out. There is not a single example of Jesus going into a town with the purpose of healing or casting out demons. He never ventures out on a healing and exorcism tour. He certainly does a lot of this along the way. He is moved with pity at human need. But the reason he "came out" was "that [he] may preach" (1:38).

I just finished a two year sermon series on Mark. I know that Jesus often healed and cast out demons. He cared about physical need and relieved suffering. So should we. I also know from preaching through the gospel that everything in the gospel points to the identity of Jesus (Mark 1:1). The miracles, the healings, the exorcisms all serve a larger purpose–to demonstrate, clarify, and prove that Jesus is the Son of God. Did Jesus minister in a holistic way? Yes. Was his priority proclamation? Also yes. The whole structure of Mark's gospel and the shape of Jesus' ministry aims at the goal that those with ears to hear might see Jesus' true identity and follow him in faith. This is the same goal we see being aimed for by the early church in Acts. Their mission was to bear witness to all that Jesus Christ accomplished in his mission.

No Christian should ever side with gospel instead of justice or justice instead of gospel. The either/or will condemn us all. But just because we gladly say yes to gospel and justice does not mean we have answered the question "What is the mission of the church?" Some churches may need "balance." But we also need priorities.

The Doctrine of the Trinity: No Christianity Without It

If any doctrine makes Christianity Christian, then surely it is the doctrine of the Trinity. The three great ecumenical creeds—the Apostles' Creed, the Nicene Creed, and the Athanasian Creed—are all structured around our three in one God, underlying the essential importance of Trinitarian theology. Augustine once commented about the Trinity that "in no other subject is error more dangerous, or inquiry more laborious, or the discovery of truth more profitable." More recently, Sinclair Ferguson has reflected on "the rather obvious thought that when his disciples were about to have the world collapse in on them, our Lord spent so much time in the Upper Room speaking to them about the mystery of the Trinity. If anything could underline the necessity of Trinitarianism for practical Christianity, that must surely be it!"

Yet, when it comes to the doctrine of the Trinity, most Christians are poor in their understanding, poorer in their articulation, and poorest of all in seeing any way in which the doctrine matters in real life. One theologian said, tongue in cheek, "The trinity is a matter of five notions or properties, four relations, three persons, two processions, one substance or nature, and no understanding." All the talk of essence and persons and co-this and co-that seem like theological gobbledy-gook reserved for philosophers and scholars-maybe for thinky bookish types, but certainly not for moms and mechanics and middle-class college students.

So in a few hundred words let me try to explain what the doctrine of the Trinity means, where it is found in the Bible, and why it matters.

First, what does the doctrine mean? The doctrine of the Trinity can be summarized in seven statements. (1) There is only one God. (2) The Father is God. (3) The Son is God. (4) The Holy Spirit is God. (5) The Father is not the Son. (6) The Son is the not the Holy Spirit. (7) The Holy Spirit is not the Father. All of the creedal formulations and theological jargon and philosophical apologetics have to do with safeguarding each one of these statements and doing so without denying any of the other six. When the ancient creeds employ extra-biblical terminology and demand careful theological nuance they do so not to clear up what the Bible leaves cloudy, but to defend, define, and delimit essential biblical propositions. The Athanasian Creed puts it this way: "Now this is the catholic faith: That we worship one God in trinity and the trinity in unity, neither blending their persons, nor dividing their essence. For the person of the Father is a distinct person, the person of the Son is another, and that of the Holy Spirit, still another. But the divinity of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is one, their glory equal, their majesty coeternal."

The two key words here are essence and persons. When you read "essence", think "Godness." All three Persons of the Trinity share the same "Godness." One is not more God than another. None is more essentially divine than the rest. When you read "persons", think "a particular individual distinct from the others." Theologians use these terms because they are trying to find a way to express the relationship of three beings that are equally and uniquely God, but not three Gods. That's why we get the tricky (but learnable) language of essence and persons. We want to be true to the biblical witness that there is an indivisibility and unity of God, even though Father, Son, and Holy Spirit can all be rightly called God. The Persons are not three gods; rather, they dwell in communion with each other as they subsist in the divine nature without being compounded or confused.

Sometimes it's easier to understand what we believe by stating what we don't believe.

Orthodox Trinitarianism rejects monarchianism which believes in only one person (mono) and maintains that the Son and the Spirit subsists in the divine essence as impersonal attributes not distinct and divine Persons.
Orthodox Trinitarianism rejects modalism which believes that Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are different names for the same God acting in different roles or manifestations (like the well-intentioned but misguided "water, vapor, ice" analogy).
Orthodox Trinitarianism rejects Arianism which denies the full deity of Christ.
And finally, orthodox Trinitarianism rejects all forms of tri-theism, which teach that the three members of the Godhead are, to quote a leading Mormon apologist, "three distinct Beings, three separate Gods."

Second, where is the doctrine of the Trinity found in the Bible? Although the word "Trinity" is famously absent from Scripture, the theology behind the word can be found in a surprising number of verses. For starters there are verses that speak of God's oneness (Deut. 6:4; Isa. 44:6; 1 Tim. 1:17). Then there are the myriad of passages which demonstrate that God is Father (e.g., John 6:27, Titus 1:4). Next, we have the scores of texts which prove the deity of Jesus Christ, the Son—passages like John 1 ("the word was God"), John 8:58 ("before Abraham was born, I am"), Col. 2:9 ("in Christ all the fullness of Deity lives in bodily form"), Heb. 1:3 ("The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact imprint of his being"), Tit. 2:13 ("our great God and Savior Jesus Christ")-not to mention the explicit worship Christ willingly received from his disciples (Luke 24:52; John 20:28) and the charges of blasphemy leveled against him for making himself equal with God (Mark 2:7). Then we have similar texts which assume the deity of the Holy Spirit, calling Him an "eternal Spirit" (Heb. 9:14) and using "God" interchangeably with the "Holy Spirit" (1 Cor. 3:16 and 1 Cor. 6:19; Acts 5:3-4) without a second thought.

The shape of Trinitarian orthodoxy is finally rounded off by texts that hint at the plurality of persons in the Godhead (Gen. 1:1-3, 26; Psalm 2:7; Dan. 7), texts like 1 Cor. 8:6 which place Jesus Christ as Lord right in the middle of Jewish Shema, and dozens of texts that speak of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in the same breath, equating the three in rank, while assuming distinction of personhood (Matt. 28:19; Gal. 4:6; 1 Cor.12:4-6; 1 Peter 1:1-2; 2 Cor. 2:21-22; 13:14; Eph. 1:13-14; 2:18, 20-22; 3:14-17; 4:4-6; 5:18-20; 6:10-18).

The doctrine of the Trinity, as summarized in the seven statements earlier, is not a philosophical concoction by some over-zealous and over-intelligent early theologians, but one of the central planks of orthodoxy which can shown, explicitly or implicitly, from a multitude of biblical texts.

Third, why does any of this matter? There are lots of reasons, but borrowing from Robert Letham's work, and in Trinitarian fashion, let me mention just three.

One, the Trinity matters for creation. God, unlike the gods in other ancient creation stories, did not need to go outside himself to create the universe. Instead, the Word and the Spirit were like his own two hands (to use Irenaeus' famous phrase) in fashioning the cosmos. God created by speaking (the Word) as the Spirit hovered over the chaos. Creation, like regeneration, is a Trinitarian act, with God working by the agency of the Word spoken and the mysterious movement of the Holy Spirit.

Two, the Trinity matters for evangelism and cultural engagement. I've heard it said that the two main rivals to a Christian worldview at present are Islam and Postmodernism. Islam emphasizes unity—unity of language, culture, and expression—without allowing much variance for diversity. Postmodernism, on the other hand, emphasizes diversity—diversity of opinion, believes, and background—without attempting to see things in any kind of meta-unity. Christianity, with its understanding of God as three in one, allows for diversity and unity. If God exists in three distinct Persons who all share the same essence, then it is possible to hope that God's creation may exhibit stunning variety and individuality while still holding together in a genuine oneness.

Three, the Trinity matters for relationships. We worship a God who is in constant and eternal relationship with himself as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Community is a buzz word in American culture, but it is only in a Christian framework that communion and interpersonal community are seen as expressions of the eternal nature of God. Likewise, it is only with a Trinitarian God that love can be an eternal attribute of God. Without a plurality of persons in the Godhead, we would be forced to think that God created humans so that he might show love and know love, thereby making love a created thing (and God a needy deity). But with a biblical understanding of the Trinity we can say that God did not create in order to be loved, but rather, created out of the overflow of the perfect love that had always existed among Father, Son, and Holy Spirit who ever live in perfect and mutual relationship and delight.

Some Thoughts On Ministering to the Sick and Dying

I am no expert in ministering to people in suffering. It is a privilege to be with the sick and dying, but it can also be scary, hard work. I have great respect for chaplains, calling pastors, solo pastors, and other believers who spend a lot of their time comforting the sick and suffering with the gospel.

As you minister to the sick and dying–and we all will have opportunity to do so–here are some things to keep in mind.

1. Be patient.  Ask lots of questions.  Don't assume you know what they are thinking or feeling.  Ask them.

2. Ask direct questions.  I have found especially with older generations that they don't respond well to some of the "jargon" questions like "how is your walk with the Lord?" They are not used to thinking of Christianity in these terms.  Ask more direct questions like "How is God helping you?" or "What Bible verses or hymns have come to mind?"

3. If you can sing, open up a hymnal and sing some songs. If you can't sing, try anyway.

4. Avoid questions that can be answered with a yes or no questions. If you ask, "Is it hard being sick" you may not get very far. Avoid leading questions too. For example, "Is it a great comfort to know that Jesus has forgiven all your sins and you will spend eternity with him in heaven?" may be good theology, but it's not exactly a question. Better to just state that truth and ask a real questions.

5. Learn to live with your own feelings of inadequacy. No one knows exactly what to say in these situations. It usually feels a little awkward at first. But don't let that keep you away. Be bold, and be yourself.

6. At some point I think it is appropriate to ask very specific questions, especially if the person is avoiding the harsh realities of the situation.  You may have to say something like "There's a chance you may not get better.  Are you scared of dying?" Obviously, you don't lead with this question as you visit the little girl having her appendix taken out, but in other situations you can't avoid talking about death. Well, actually, you can avoid it (and you may want to), but you shouldn't.

7. Don't fall into the trap of talking only about all the medical jibber-jabber. Most people will start out by giving you the medical play-by-play. That's fine and probably therapeutic. But don't try to be their doctor. Move past talking about prescriptions, treatments, and the new medical vocabulary everyone is learning. Get to the gospel and the soul.

8. Don't interrupt. Ask follow up questions. Be slow to correct their thinking. If they need to be challenged, do it after they know you care and take their feelings seriously. Nothing is more discouraging than a friend or pastor who quickly corrects all fears and immediately shines up all your struggles.

9. Remind people of things you know they already know. We forget. We doubt. It helps to hear others tell us the same truth one more time.

10. Open the Bible. Read the Bible. Teach the Bible. If our theology doesn't help when people are sick and dying, what good is it?

A Few Scripture Suggestions

Verses to give assurance:

Romans 8:1 (no condemnation)
Romans 8:28-39 (nothing can separate us from Christ)
John 11:25-26 (I am the resurrection and the life)
1 John 1:9 (if we confess our sins God will forgive us)
Ephesians 2:1-10 (by grace we have been saved)
Luke 23:39-43 (thief on the cross)

Verses to sympathize with hurting people:

Psalm 40 (stuck in the miry clay)
Psalm 42 (as the deer pants for water, so my soul longs for you)
Romans 8:18-27 (whole creation is groaning)
Hebrews 4:14-16 (Jesus as our sympathetic high priest)

Beloved passages that are almost always appropriate:

Psalm 23 (the Lord is my shepherd)
Psalm 46 (God is a refuge)
Psalm 103 (God's compassion and mercy)
Matthew 6 (God's care and do not worry)
Romans 8 (mercy, suffering, hope, assurance)

I also recommend the Heidelberg Catechism, especially questions 1 and 2.

Monday Morning Humor

I thought of this as I ironed my shirt on Sunday morning.

(I didn't really think of this reenactment, but I can't find the whole bit without it.)

The Most Lifelike Dead Animals Anywhere. Period.

How Mature Should New Members Be?

Suppose you have five people like this in your church's new members class:

Bill grew up in a conservative church. He is a nice guy, upstanding and well-respected. He believes the Bible and professes Jesus to be his Lord and Savior. He affirms the Trinity, heaven and hell, and the local church. But during your membership interview, when you ask him to explain the gospel, he tells you it is about trying your best to be a good person. When you press him for clarity, he digs in further, insisting that being a Christian means going to church, making a difference in the community, and raising a good family.

Larry is a thirtysomething successful business person in the area. He grew up in a liberal church and turned away from Christ in his 20s. During that time he lived a very licentious life, including active participation in the gay lifestyle. He feels shame for that part of his life and has sought the Lord's forgiveness and the Lord's power to change. He understands the gospel and is growing in his knowledge of the word. Larry still struggles with same gender attraction and a couple of times has gone online to view things he shouldn't, but with an accountability partner, a good church community, and the hope of the gospel he is trusting the Lord to make him holy.

Jim and Susan are a young couple with no church background. They started coming to your services nine months ago after some struggles in their relationship. At first they were tentative, but now they can't get enough of church. They jumped into a small group and have started greeting at the front door. They love the sermons and the music. They know that Jesus came to save sinners like them and they love to meditate on God's grace. During the membership class it comes out that they are living together. When you inquire further you learn that they regularly have sex and don't think twice about it.

Irene is a 65-year old widow and a lifelong churchgoer. When her husband died two years ago she decided to move to a different part of town and get into a different house. That's when she started coming to your church. Since her husband died Irene has not felt quite right. It's been hard for her to read the word and pray because that's what she did with her husband. She is discouraged by her lack of faithfulness in these spiritual disciplines. And she's not been as involved in church as she used to be. Sometimes Irene wonders if she's depressed. She wants Jesus to help her is hoping a change of scenery will do some good.

So, how many people from this membership class will you welcome to join the church? I'd vote for Larry and Irene, but not for Bill, Jim, and Susan.

Why's That?

Let's go back through the list and I'll try to explain my thought process.

Bill doesn't understand the gospel. It's a simple as that. He is religious, well versed in some Christian theology, and has a good reputation. But he is not trusting in Christ alone for salvation. He may not be a meanie like the Pharisees, but he rests in his own righteousness like they often did. Obviously, I'd want to keep working with Bill. Maybe it's head confusion more than heart pride. But until he understand how he is right with God and what the good news is all about I can't affirm that he is born again. He may be, but I need more evidence.

Larry is simul iustus et peccator. He struggles with sin and old patterns. But he also fights. He confesses sin and repents of it. In fact, he hates the sin in his life and is taking advantage of every means of grace to push back temptation. Hopefully over time his spiritual triumphs will increase and his defeats decrease. Larry may fall again, but he doesn't want to and he is working hard not to. He's demonstrated a sincere trust in Jesus for his sins and a desire to let Jesus conquer his sins. Welcome to the church.

Jim and Susan may be the toughest case. We may be tempted to let them join, figuring we can disciple them later and get them to move out. But this approach lacks integrity. When we (the church or the elders depending on your polity) welcome someone into membership we are giving our verdict that this person, as best as we can tell, is a child of God and is walking with God. There is no problem in admitting sinners to church membership (what church would be left without sinners!). The problem is admitting those who do not acknowledge their sin. Church membership, de facto, is an invitation to the Table. But would we not discipline (I hope) a couple committing sexual sin?

Again, we should work with people like Jim and Susan. They are probably ignorant of God's commands. But hiding the commands from them does not help them in the long run. If Jesus told the crowds to count the cost before being his disciple, we should be open and honest with prospective members (and everyone really) about what it means to follow Jesus. If they balk at God's standards for sexual purity, then they are not serious about making Jesus Lord of their lives. While we can be thankful for the progress in people like Jim and Susan, unless they are willing to turn from their sin they are not ready be a part of God's holy bride.

Irene is a struggling Christian. There is nothing in her life to suggest she's given up on Christ. In fact, she really misses the walk she used to enjoy. She's not living in defiance of God's commands. She understands and believes the gospel. She's not feeling like the stalwart she was a few years ago, but this is an opportunity for her new church to comfort, encourage, and come alongside.

Conclusion

The issue, despite the title of this post, is not really maturity. Some people join our churches ready to be elders and others are quite the work in progress. Church membership is not just for those who seem to be on top of their spiritual game. Church membership is for those who trust in Christ alone for salvation and turn from their sin. That's not all I would teach on church membership. I'd also want to talk about spiritual authority, commitment, covenant, doctrinal distinctives, and the like. But the starting point in the discussion is trusting in Christ and turning from sin. The question is not how much sanctification must be present prior to church membership. The issue is faith and repentance. Both mark out conversion. Both mark out the Christian. And both marks must be present in new members.

Imperfect Truth Hinders Holiness

Horatius Bonar:

A holy life in man's estimation may be simply a life of benevolence, or of austerity, or of punctual devotion, or of kindly geniality, or noble uprightness, or liberal sympathy with all creeds, all sects, all truths, and all errors. But a holy life in God's estimation, and according to Bible teaching, must be founded upon truth, must begin personally, in conscious peace with God through the blood of the everlasting covenant, must grow with the increase of truth and deliverance from error, must be maintained by fellowship with God, in Christ Jesus, through the indwelling of the "Spirit of holiness." Error or imperfect truth must hinder holiness. (God's Way of Holiness, 84)

Is Sanctification Monergistic or Synergistic? A Reformed Survey

Recently, in a leadership training class at our church, a spirited discussion broke out on whether sanctification is monergistic or synergisitic. No, this is not what every class is like at University Reformed Church. But this one was. I wasn't there, but I was told the discussion was energetic, intelligent, and respectful. I'm glad to serve at a church where people know and care about this level of theological precision.

The terms monergism and synergism refer to the working of God in regeneration. Monergism teaches that we are born again by only one working (mono is Greek for "one,"  erg is from the Greek word for "work"). Synergism teaches that we are born again by human cooperation with the grace of God (the syn prefix means "with" in Greek). The Protestant Reformers strongly opposed all synergistic understandings of the new birth. They believed that given the spiritual deadness and moral inability of man, our regeneration is owing entirely to the sovereign work of God. We do not cooperate and we do not contribute to our being born again. Three cheers for monergism.

But what should we say about sanctification? On the one hand, Reformed Christians are loathe to use the word synergistic. We certainly don't want to suggest that God's grace is somehow negligible in sanctification. Nor do we want to suggest that the hard work of growing in godliness is not a supernatural gift from God. On the other hand, we are on dangerous ground if we imply that we are passive in sanctification in the same way we are passive in regeneration. We don't want to suggest God is the only active agent in our progressive sanctification. So which is it: is sanctification monergistic or synergistic?

I think it's best to stay away from both terms. The distinction is very helpful (and very important) when talking about regeneration, but these particular theological terms muddy the waters when talking about sanctification. Synergism sounds like a swear word to Reformed folks, so no one wants to say it. And yet, monergism is not the right word either. To make it the right word we have to provide a different definition than we give it when discussing the new birth. What does it mean to say regeneration and sanctification are both monergistic if we are entirely passive in one and active in the other?

Those who say sanctification is monergistic want to protect the gracious, supernatural character of sanctification. Those who say sanctification is synergistic want to emphasize that we must actively cooperated with the grace in sanctification. These emphases are both correct. And yet, I believe it is better to defend both of these points with careful explanation rather than with terms that have normally been employed in a different theological controversy. Sanctification is both a gracious gift of God and it requires our active cooperation. I've tried to show in previous posts that these two truths are biblical. In this post I want to show these two truths are also eminently Reformed.

Let me give a few brief examples.

John Calvin (1509-64)

Commenting on 2 Peter 1:5 ("make every effort to add to your faith…"), Calvin says:

As it is an arduous work and of immense labour, to put off the corruption which is in us, he bids us to strive and make every effort for this purpose. He intimates that no place is to be given in this case to sloth, and that we ought to obey God calling us, not slowly or carelessly, but that there is need of alacrity; as though he had said, "Put forth every effort, and make your exertions manifest to all."

For Calvin, growing in godliness is hard work. There is no place for sloth. We must exert ourselves to obedience with speed and diligence. The believer is anything but passive in sanctification. But later, while commenting on the same verse, Calvin also warns against "the delirious notion" that we make the movements of God in us efficacious, as if God's work could not be done unless we allowed him to do it. On the contrary, "right feelings are formed in us by God, and are rendered by him effectual." In fact, "all our progress and perseverance are from God." Wisdom, love, patience—these are all "gifts of God and the Spirit." So when Peter tells us to make every effort, "he by no means asserts that [these virtues] are in our power, but only shows what we ought to have, and what ought to be done."

Francis Turretin (1623-87)

Turretin employs sanctification as a theological term "used strictly for a real and internal renovation of man." In this renovation, we are both recipients of God's grace and active performers of it. "[Sanctification] follows justification and is begun here in this life by regeneration and promoted by the exercise of holiness and of good works, until it shall be consummated in the other by glory. In this sense, it is now taken passively, inasmuch as it is wrought by God in us; then actively, inasmuch as it ought to be done by us, God performing this work in us and by us" (Institutes of Elenctic Theology 2.17.1).

When it comes to the grace of God in regeneration, Turretin is opposed to "all Synergists." He has in mind Socinians, Remonstrants, Pelagians, Semipelagians, and especially Roman Catholics, who anathematized "anyone [who] says that the free will of man moved and excited by God cooperates not at all" in effectual calling (Council of Trent). Turretin is happy to be just the sort of monergist Trent denounces. But then he adds this clarification about synergism:

The question does not concern the second stage of conversion in which it is certain that man is not merely passive, but cooperates with God (or rather operates under him). Indeed he actually believes and converts himself to God; moves himself to the exercise of new life. Rather the question concerns the first moment when he is converted and receives new life in regeneration. We contend that he is merely passive in this, as a receiving subject and not as an active principle. (2.15.5).

Give this caveat, it's hard to think Turretin would have been comfortable saying sanctification is monergistic, though he certainly believed holiness is wrought in the believer by God.

Wilhelmus A Brakel (1635-1711)

Like Turretin and Calvin, A Brakel makes clear that sanctification is a work of God. "God alone is its cause," he writes. "As little as man can contribute to his regeneration, faith, and justification, so little can he contribute to his sanctification" (The Christian's Reasonable Service, 3.4). This may sound like we are completely passive in holiness, but that's not what A Brakel means.

Believers hate sin, love God, and are obedient, and do good works. However, they do this neither on their own nor independently from God; rather, the Holy Spirit, having infused life in them at regeneration, maintains that life by His continual influence, stirs it up, activates it, and causes it to function in harmony with its spiritual nature. (3.4)

We contribute nothing to sanctification in that growth in godliness is a gift from God. And yet, we must be active in the exercise of this gift. A Brakel even goes so far as to say, "Man, being thus moved by the influence of God's Spirit, moves, sanctifies himself, engages in that activity which his new nature desires and is inclined toward, and does that which he knows to be his duty" (3.4, emphasis added). That's why A Brakel later exhorts his readers to "make an earnest effort to purify yourself from all the pollutions of the flesh and of the mind, perfecting yours sanctification in the fear of God. Permit me to stir you up to this holy work; incline your ear and permit these exhortations addressed to you to enter your heart" (3.24). So in one sense (on the level of ultimate causation and origin) we contribute nothing to sanctification and in another sense (on the level of activity and effort) we sanctify ourselves.

Charles Hodge (1797-1878)

We find these same themes–sanctification as gift and sanctification as active cooperation–in the great systematician from Princeton. Hodge stresses that sanctification is "supernatural" in that holy virtues in the life of a believer cannot "be produced by the power of the will, or by all the resources of man, however protracted or skillful in their application. They are the gifts of God, the fruits of the Spirit" (Systematic Theology, 3.215).

And yet, Hodge is quick to add that this supernatural work of sanctification does not exclude "the cooperation of second causes." He explains:

When Christ opened the eyes of the blind no second cause interposed between his volition and the effect. But men work out their own salvation, while it is God who worketh in them to will and to do, according to his own good pleasure. In the work of regeneration, the soul is passive. It cannot cooperate in the communication of spiritual life. But in conversion, repentance, faith, and growth in grace, all its powers are called into exercise. As, however, the effects produced transcend the efficiency of our fallen nature, and are due to the agency of the Spirit, sanctification does not cease to be supernatural, or a work of grace, because the soul is active and cooperating in the process. (3.215).

There are several important ideas in Hodge's summary. First, he affirms that sanctification is a work of supernatural grace. It is not something that comes from us or could be accomplished by us. Second, he suggests that the soul is passive (monergism) in regeneration, but not in the rest of our spiritual life (note: by "conversion" he means our turning to Christ not the new birth). Third, he does not hesitate to use the language of cooperation. We are active in the sanctifying process with Christ as he works in us.

Herman Bavinck (1854-1921)

More than Hodge, and more like Calvin, Bavinck emphasizes the "in Christ" nature of sanctification. He wants us to see that we are not "sanctified by a holiness we bring out ourselves." Rather, evangelical sanctification "consists in the reality that in Christ God grants us, along with righteousness, also complete holiness, and does not just impute it but also inwardly imparts it by the regenerating and renewing work of the Holy Spirit until we have been fully conformed to the image of his Son" (Reformed Dogmatics, 4.248). Bavinck goes on to say that Rome's doctrine of "'infused righteousness' is not incorrect as such." Believers "do indeed obtain the righteousness of Christ by infusion." The problem is that Rome makes this infused righteousness that ground for forgiveness. We are given the gift of righteousness (by which Christ "comes to dwell in us by his Spirit and renews us after his image"), but only as we are also declared righteous by the gift of an imputed righteousness (4.249).

Sanctification, for Bavinck, is first of all what God does in and for us. But that's not all we must say about sanctification.

Granted, in the first place [sanctification] is a work and gift of God (Phil. 1:5; 1 Thess. 5:23), a process in which humans are passive just as they are in regeneration, of which it is the continuation. But based on this work of God in humans, it acquires, in the second place, an active meaning, and people themselves are called and equipped to sanctify themselves and devote their whole life to God (Rom. 12:1; 2 Cor. 7:1; 1 Thess. 4:3; Heb. 12:14; and so forth). (4.253)

While Bavinck may be more willing to stress the passive nature of sanctification rather than use the language of cooperation, in the end he hits the same themes we have seen in Calvin, Turretin, a Brakel, and Hodge. Bavinck sees no conflict "between this all-encompassing activity of God in grace and the self-agency of people maintained alongside of it" (4.254). He warns that Christians go off the rails when they sacrifice "one group of pronouncements to the other." Sanctification is a gift from God, and we are active in it.

Louis Berkhof (1873-1857)

When it comes to sanctification, we see in Berkhof the same tendency to guard against any notions of self-helpism on the one hand and human inactivity on the other.

[Sanctification] is a supernatural work of God. Some have the mistaken notion that sanctification consists merely in the drawing out of the new life, implanted in the soul by regeneration, in a persuasive way by presenting motives to the will. But this is not true. It consists fundamentally and primarily in a divine operation in the soul, whereby the holy disposition born in regeneration is strengthened and its holy exercises are increased. (Systematic Theology, 532).

In other words, sanctification is essentially a work of God. But it is also "a work of God in which believers co-operate."

When it is said that man takes part in the work of sanctification, this does not mean that man is an independent agent in the work, so as to make it partly the work of God and partly the work of man; but merely, that God effects the work in part through the instrumentality of man as a rational being, by requiring of him prayerful and intelligent co-operation with the Spirit. (534)

Conclusion

So what do we see in this short survey of Reformed theologians. For starters, we do not see the exact language of monergism or synergism applied to sanctification.

Second, we see that, given the right qualifications, either term could be used with merit. "Monergism" can work because sanctification is God's gift, his supernatural work in us. "Synergism" can also work because because we cooperate with God in sanctification and actively make an effort to grow in godliness.

Third, we see in this Reformed survey the need to be careful with our words. For example, "passive" can describe our role in sanctification, but only if we also say there is a sense in which we are active. Likewise, we can use the language of cooperation as long as we understand that sanctification does not depend ultimately on us.

And if all this is confusing, you can simply say: we work out our sanctification as God works in us (Phil. 2:12-12). Those are the two truths we must protect: the gift of God in sanctification and the activity of man. We pursue the gift, is how John Webster puts it. I act the miracle, is Piper's phrase. Both are saying the same thing: God sanctifies us and we also sanctify ourselves. With the right qualifications and definitions, I believe Calvin, Turretin, A Brakel, Hodge, Bavinck, and Berkhof would heartily agree.

Are You Sunshine or a Cloud?

There are a lot of interesting conclusions to be gleaned from the laundry list of names in Romans 16. But the one I appreciate most is Paul's example of offering divinely inspired encouragement.

According to my biblically informed definition, encouragement means highlighting the evidences of God's grace in the gospel or in a gospel-centered person to the glory of God. Each part of that definition is important. Encouragement is not spotlighting a person, but underlining God's grace. It is not about simply commending nice people to make them feel good, but about commending the work of the gospel in others to glory of God.

The definition above can help differentiate encouragement from flattery. Encouragement is based on what is true about a person. Flattery affirms through exaggeration or falsehood. Encouragement keeps human praise in proportion, lifting everything up for God's praise. Flattery gives too much influence to human agency. Encouragement blesses for the sake of the blessed and the Blessed One. Flattery harbors ulterior motives and looks for favors or reciprocal affirmation. While God despises flattery, he delights to see Christians encourage each other.

One reason we know this to be true is because he inspired Paul to record his encouragements in Romans 16. Notice four characteristics of Paul's encouragement.

First, he recognized others publicly. Paul had never been to the church at Rome. But he knew some of the members through his travels. Others he had heard about. And he likes what he's seen and heard. So he tells the whole church, in front of everyone. He does this in all his letters. He holds up Tychicus as a faithful minister in the Lord (Eph. 6:21) and Epaphroditus as a fellow worker and fellow soldier (Phil. 2:25). He goes out of his way to encourage, speaking of "Luke the beloved physician" when plain old "Luke" would have sufficed. We probably don't think of Paul has a great encourager, more of a champion of the gospel or defender of the faith, but the only reason we don't see him encouraging others is because it happens so frequently.

Second, Paul was tender in expressing his affections. Epaenetus, Ampliatus, Stachys, and Persis are all beloved to him. Rufus' mother could have been his own mother their bond was so close (Rom. 16:13). Elsewhere, Paul tells the Philippians he holds them in his heart and yearns for them with the affection of Christ Jesus (Phil. 1:7). He has abundant love for the Corinthians (the Corinthians!) and is happy to live and die with them (2 Cor. 2:4; 11:11). Perhaps people find us discouraging or intimidating because they sense no warmth. Our praise is always perfunctory, never tender. There's a difference between saying "you're in my thoughts" and telling someone "I hold you in my heart."

Third, Paul's encouragement was rooted in his love for the gospel. He doesn't simply commend people for being really good at something.  He honors them for the work of God he sees in and through them. These are fellow workers, fellow servants, fellow saints. Paul's heart beats with gratitude because God saved these men and women and now uses them to bless others. The strongest bonds of friendship should be gospel bonds.  The deepest affections ought to be stirred in us, not because we like the same movies and music or come from the same place and root for the same teams, but because we share the same passion for, an identity in, the gospel. These "greetings" are more than secular "hellos." They are signs of church-wide solidarity growing out of our communion together through our union with Christ.

Fourth, Paul didn't just encourage his friends and co-laborers, he cultivated an atmosphere of appreciation and affection in the whole church. He greets them, but then tells them to greet each other. Go meet Philologus. Stop by and see Julia. Give my regards to Nereus. Paul is fostering community. He even encourages signs of physical affection. The sign is not as important as the thing signified. Whether it's a kiss, a hug, a hearty handshake, or a super sweet fist bump, Paul understood that God gave us bodies and wants us to use them appropriately to encourage others.

Paul wanted the church to be quick to encourage, not quick to condemn.  He wanted them overflowing in praise, instead of overflowing in criticism.  He wanted the church to be warm and invigorating, not cold and life quenching.  He didn't want a church of boasters or flatterers.  But he wanted a congregation where the members sought to honor one another above themselves, a place where God's grace was noticed and lifted up for the glory of God. He wanted more sunshine, fewer clouds.

Paul's love for encouragement makes sense because God is the great encourager. He is always rejoicing in the truth. He loves to highlight his own grace and glory. He called Jesus his beloved Son and speaks just as kindly to us–beloved, little children, new creations, holy ones. Because of the work of Christ, God accepts us when he would otherwise reject us, which means he can encourage instead of condemn. And by this same work of Christ, we can encourage all those who belong to Christ.

A version of this article also appeared in the September issue of Tabletalk magazine.

Monday Morning Humor