Tullian Tchividjian's Blog, page 40

The Great Reversal

In C.S. Lewis's masterful children's story The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, he tells of a country, Narnia, which is under the curse of the White Witch. This evil queen places a spell on the land so that it's "always winter and never Christmas." Under her control, the future of Narnia looks bleak until word gets out that "Aslan is on the move." In the story, Aslan is a noble lion who represents Christ. He's coming to set things straight. He's coming to destroy the White Witch and thus reverse the curse on Narnia. The first sign of Aslan's movement toward this cursed land is that the snow begins to melt–"spring is in the air." The cold begins to fade as the sun rays peer through the dark clouds, promising the dawn of a new day. Everything in Narnia begins to change.

You'll have to read the book to see how the story ends, but when I'm asked to describe the true meaning of Christmas, I like to say that the birth of Christ is the sure and certain sign that "God is on the move." The arrival of Jesus two-thousand years ago ensured that God had begun the process of reversing the curse of sin and recreating all things. In Jesus, God was moving in a new way and, in the words of C.S. Lewis, "winter began stirring backwards."

All of Jesus' ministry—the words he spoke, the miracles he performed—showed that there was a new order in town: God's order. When Jesus healed the diseased, raised the dead, and forgave the desperate, he did so to show that with the arrival of God in the flesh came the restoration of the way God intended things to be. New life was given, health was restored; God was reversing the curse of death, disease, and discomfort. The incarnation of Christ began the "great reversal."

Tim Keller observes that Christ's miracles were not the suspension of the natural order but the restoration of the natural order. They were a reminder of what once was prior to the Fall and a preview of what will eventually be a universal reality once again—a world of peace and justice, without death, disease, or conflict.

To be sure, when Christ comes again, the process of reversing the curse of sin and recreating all things will be complete (1 Cor. 15:51-58). The peace on earth that the angels announced the night Christ was born will become a universal actuality. God's cosmic rescue mission will be complete. The fraying fabric of our fallen world will be fully and perfectly rewoven. Everything and everyone "in Christ" will live in perfect harmony. Shalom will rule.

Isaiah pictures it this way:

The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,

and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat,

and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together;

and a little child shall lead them.

The cow and the bear shall graze;

their young shall lie down together;

and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

The nursing child shall play over the hole of the cobra,

and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder's den.

They shall not hurt or destroy

in all my holy mountain;

for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD

as the waters cover the sea. (Isaiah 11:6-9)

For those who have found forgiveness of sins in Christ, there will one day be no more sickness, no more death, no more tears, no more division, no more tension. The pardoned children of God will work and worship in a perfectly renewed earth without the interference of sin. We who believe the gospel will enjoy sinless hearts and minds along with disease-free bodies. All that causes us pain and discomfort will be destroyed, and we will live forever. We'll finally be able "to enjoy what is most enjoyable with unbounded energy and passion forever."

Christmas is the celebration of this process begun and the promise that it will one day be completed.

The Great Reversal is a post from: Tullian Tchividjian

Thanking God For Roger Nicole

Tonight, my former professor Roger Nicole died. He was, by all accounts, one of the most important and influential theologians of the the 20th century.

For those unfamiliar with Dr. Nicole, here's a brief bio taken from Wikipedia:

Roger R. Nicole (born 1915) a native Swiss Reformed theologian and a Baptist, has long been regarded as one of the preeminent theologians in America. He is a Christian Egalitarian and Biblical Inerrantist. He was an associate editor for the New Geneva Study Bible and assisted in the translation of the New International Version of the Bible. He was a founding member of both the International Council on Biblical Inerrancy and the Evangelical Theological Society, of which he is a past president. He holds a M.A. from Sorbonne, an S.T.M. and Th.D. from Gordon Divinity School, a Ph.D. from Harvard University, and a D.D. from Wheaton College.

He is Emeritus Professor of Theology at Reformed Theological Seminary, Orlando, Florida. He also is professor emeritus of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. A devotee of mathematics and prolific writer, he has produced some 100 articles and contributed to fifty books and reference works. A bibliophile and distinguished librarian with a massive collection, he owns Calvin's Commentaries on the Gospels and Acts and other volumes from the 16th and 17th centuries. The library of Reformed Theological Seminary in Orlando contains over twenty thousand of his personal books. They take up one half of the current library.

Respected internationally for his Christian statesmanship and scholarship, he is an acknowledged expert in the thought of Reformation leader John Calvin. An avid philatelist, Nicole has a personal collection of approximately one million stamps. Evangelical commentator David F. Wells dedicated his 1985 release, Reformed Theology in America, simply "to Roger Nicole, a man of God." J. I. Packer has written this tribute to Nicole: "Awesome for brain power, learning and wisdom, endlessly patient and courteous in his gentle geniality, and beloved by a multitude as pastor, mentor and friend."

Also, Justin Taylor has written an excellent bio of Dr. Nicole here.

Two and half years ago, Kim and I had the privilege of spending the day with Dr. Nicole and his dear friend, J.I. Packer. Two of my theological hero's, I've had the privilege of spending quality time with both of these men in the past…but this was special. Dr. Nicole and Dr. Packer had been close friends for over 50 years and being able to watch them together for a day was the most moving and meaningful exhibition of Christian friendship we have ever seen. They showed such deep love and respect for eachother.

One quick story: Kim, my friend Justin, Dr. Packer, Dr. Nicole, and I were walking from the Orlando Convention Center across the street to our hotel. It was the annual gathering of Christian authors and publishers and so as we were walking many people recognized Dr. Packer and stopped to say "hello." Only one person stopped and recognized Dr. Nicole (who is not nearly as well known as Dr. Packer, but equally important). However, after that one person stopped Dr. Nicole, Dr. Packer (wanting to make sure his friend knew that he was just as important as he was) said, "You have to expect that people are going to recognize you Roger and want to talk with you. You are a very important man." It showed just how humble and sensitive Dr. Packer is. He didn't want Dr. Nicole to feel outshined by him so he made nothing of the many who recognized him, but everything of the one who recognized Dr. Nicole.

Both men were nearing the end of their life here on earth but watching them reflect on how, together, they have fought the fiercest theological battles of the 20th century was a true gift. They're both timeless theological legends who think nothing more of themselves than that they are servants of the Living God and His gospel. It was so evident that God's amazing grace still amazed them…and that amazed me. It was a day that Kim and I will never forget. I wish you could have been there!

I'll see you on the other side Dr. Nicole!

Thanking God For Roger Nicole is a post from: Tullian Tchividjian

Does The Gospel Scare You?

(I wrote this article for my friends over at The Resurgence a couple months ago. I know that much here might sound repetitive. But here I tie my understanding of legalism to the gospel-centeredness that is gaining ground–thank God!–in the church today. I think this is really, really important material to consider. I hope it helps!)

I'm ecstatic about the resurgence of gospel centrality taking place in the evangelical church. The idea that the gospel is not only for those outside the church but also for those inside the church; that it not only ignites the Christian life but is the fuel that keeps Christians going and growing every day, may seem like a new idea, but it's really old. I'm glad it's re-gaining traction, but as far as we've come, we need to go further.

For all the talk of gospel-centeredness, there's still some fear and trepidation fueled by a common misunderstanding regarding the radical nature of grace. Even amongst the proponents of gospel-centrality, I still hear talk about there being two equal dangers that Christians must avoid: legalism and lawlessness.

Legalism, they say, happens when you focus too much on law, or rules. Lawlessness, they say, happens when you focus too much on grace. Therefore, in order to maintain spiritual equilibrium, you have to balance law and grace. Sometimes, legalism and lawlessness are presented as two ditches on either side of the gospel that we must avoid. If you start getting too much law, you need to balance it with grace. If you start getting too much grace, you need to balance it with law. But I've come to believe that this "balanced" way of framing the issue can unwittingly keep us from really understanding the gospel of grace in all of its radical depth and beauty.

It's more theologically accurate to say that there is one primary enemy of the gospel—legalism—but it comes in two forms. Some people avoid the gospel and try to "save" themselves by keeping the rules, doing what they're told, maintaining the standards, and so on (you could call this "front-door legalism").

Other people avoid the gospel and try to "save" themselves by breaking the rules, doing whatever they want, developing their own autonomous standards, and so on (you could call this "back-door legalism").

In other words, there are two "laws" we can choose to live by other than Christ: the law which says "I can find freedom and fullness of life if I keep the rules" or the law which says "I can find freedom and fullness of life if I break the rules." Either way you're still trying to "save" yourself—which means both are legalistic because both are self-salvation projects.

So, it's a mistake to identify the "two cliffs" as being legalism and lawlessness. The one "cliff" is legalism but it comes in two forms—what some call license is just another form of legalism. And if people outside the church are guilty of "break the rules" legalism, many people inside the church are still guilty of "keep the rules" legalism.

This is super important because the biggest lie about grace that Satan wants the church to buy is the idea that grace is dangerous and therefore needs to be "kept it in check." By believing this we not only prove we don't understand grace, but we violate gospel advancement in our lives and in the church. A "yes, grace…but" disposition is the kind of fearful posture that keeps moralism swirling around in our hearts and in the church.

I understand the fear of grace. As a pastor, one of my responsibilities is to disciple people into a deeper understanding of obedience—teaching them to say "no" to the things God hates and "yes" to the things God loves. But all too often I have (wrongly) concluded that the only way to keep licentious people in line is to give them more rules. The fact is, however, that the only way licentious people start to obey is when they get a taste of God's radical unconditional acceptance of sinners.

The irony of gospel-based sanctification is that those who end up obeying more are those who increasingly realize that their standing with God is not based on their obedience, but Christ's.

The people who actually end up performing better are those who understand that their relationship with God doesn't depend on their performance for Jesus, but Jesus' performance for us.

People need to hear less about what we need to do for God and more about all that God has already done for us, because imperatives minus indicatives equal impossibilities. If you're a preacher and you're assuming that people understand the radical nature of gospel indicatives, so your ministry is focused primarily on gospel imperatives, you're making a huge mistake. A huge mistake!

Long-term, sustained, gospel-motivated obedience can only come from faith in what Jesus has already done, not fear of what we must do. To paraphrase Ray Ortlund, any obedience not grounded in or motivated by the gospel is unsustainable. No matter how hard you try, how "radical" you get, any engine smaller than the gospel that you're depending on for power to obey will conk out in due time.

So let's take it up a notch. Don't be afraid to preach the radical nature of the gospel of grace. For, as the late Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones once said, "If your preaching of the gospel doesn't provoke the charge from some of antinomianism, you're not preaching the gospel."

Does The Gospel Scare You? is a post from: Tullian Tchividjian

My Monday Morning Need Of The Gospel

For preachers, Monday mornings can be dark. I can't speak for every preacher, but the devil works hard to discourage me on Monday's–reminding me of all my faults and failures and how unqualified I am to be doing what I'm doing. I need the gospel every day but sometimes I feel like I need it especially on Monday's. This is why I went back to the prayer below from my friend Scotty Smith. Scotty's grasp of the gospel and his ongoing, day-in and day-out need of it, instructs me in the deep places. I pray that you will own this prayer as I have.

Dear Lord Jesus,

While I still believe, with all my heart, you are the only Savior, I now see how more of my heart needs more of you and more of the gospel.

There is nobody on the face of the earth that needs the gospel today, and its transforming resources, more than me, and I am SO glad to be able to acknowledge this reality. I need you today, Jesus, as much as I did in March of 1968 when you washed away all my sins and covered me with the robe of your righteousness.

You have saved me in the past, when I was justified by grace alone through faith alone; you are saving me in the present, as the Holy Spirit applies more and more of your finished work to my whole being; and you will save me in the future, when you return to finish making all things new, including ME!

Lord Jesus, though I'm never tempted to look to any other name for my justification, I am very tempted to look to other names and means for my transformation—worse of all, is when I look to me to be my own savior. But only you, Jesus, are able to save completely those who come to God through you, for you are always living to pray for us and to advocate for us (Heb 7:25). You are my righteousness, holiness and redemption, and that's why I only boast in you today! (1 Cor. 1:30-31)

So I come to you today, Jesus, right now! Save me more fully from my fear of man, my need to be in control, my ticky-tacky pettiness. Save me from trying to be anybody's savior. I want to get irritated far less often and to be spontaneous much more often. I want to "light up" more quickly when I hear your name, Jesus, and not be downcast, when I don't hear my name.

That's more than enough confession for one day… Indeed, Jesus, I must be saved, I am being saved, through your name alone. Hallelujah!

Thank-you Scotty for pastoring me so well, brother. I thank God that he has provided you as a shepherd of my soul.

My Monday Morning Need Of The Gospel is a post from: Tullian Tchividjian

Critiqued By The Cross

In Bob Kauflin's book Worship Matters, he has a section on how to handle criticism. He's writing specifically with church leaders in mind (pastors, preachers, music directors, etc.) but his insight proves to be super beneficial for all Christians.

He shows that criticism provides Christians with an opportunity to glory in the cross of Christ. He makes the point that the main reason Christians resent criticism is because we fail to believe what God has said about us at the cross.

He explains what he means by quoting Alfred Poirier: "In light of God's judgment and justification of the sinner in the cross of Christ, we can begin to discover how to deal with any and all criticism. I can face any criticism man may lay against me.  In other words, no one can criticize me more than the cross already has."

Reflecting on these words, Bob writes:

What a thought. The cross is a loud statement of our sin, unworthiness, and need. And in light of the cross, we can receive criticism graciously because God, who knows our wickedness better than anyone else, has fully forgiven and justified us.  We will never be brought into condemnation (Romans 8:1)!  So we can confidently pray with David, "Let a righteous man strike me – it is a kindness; let him rebuke me – it is oil for me head; let my head not refuse it" (Psalm 141:5).

Once again I was reminded that because I am in Christ, all that I need I already have–even the capacity to endure criticism with great gospel joy and thanksgiving.

Critiqued By The Cross is a post from: Tullian Tchividjian

The Double-Reach of Self-Righteousness

The Bible makes it clear that self-righteousness is the premier enemy of the Gospel. And there is perhaps no group of people who better embody the sin of self-righteousness in the Bible than the Pharisees. In fact, Jesus reserved his harshest criticisms for them, calling them whitewashed tombs and hypocrites. Surprisingly to some, this demonstrates that unrighteous badness is not the only threat to gospel advancement. Self-righteous goodness is equally toxic.

In Surprised by Grace: God's Relentless Pursuit of Rebels, I retell the story of Jonah and show how Jonah was just as much in need of God's grace as the sailors and the Ninevites. But the fascinating thing about Jonah is that, unlike the pagan sailors and wicked Ninevites,  Jonah was one of the "good guys." He was a prophet. He was moral. He was a part of God's covenant community. He was one who "kept all the rules", and did everything he was supposed to do. He wasn't some long-haired, tattooed indie rocker; he was a clean-cut prep. He wasn't a liberal; he was a conservative. He wasn't irreligious; he was religious. If you've ever read S.E. Hinton's novel The Outsiders, than you'll immediately see that the Ninevites and the sailors in the story were like the "greasers", while Jonah was like a "soashe."

What's fascinating to me is that, not only in the story of Jonah, but throughout the Bible, it's always the immoral person that gets the Gospel before the moral person. It's the prostitute who understands grace; it's the Pharisee who doesn't. It's the unrighteous younger brother who gets it before the self-righteous older brother.

There is, however, another side to self-righteousness that younger-brother types need to be careful of. There's an equally dangerous form of self-righteousness that plagues the unconventional, the liberal, and the non-religious types. We anti-legalists can become just as guilty of legalism in the opposite direction. What do I mean?

It's simple: we can become self-righteous against those who are self-righteous.

Many younger evangelicals today are reacting to their parents' conservative, buttoned-down, rule-keeping flavor of "older brother religion" with a type of liberal, untucked, rule-breaking flavor of "younger brother irreligion" which screams, "That's right, I know I don't have it all together and you think you do; I know I'm not good and you think you are. That makes me better than you." See the irony?

In other words, they're proud that they're not self-righteous!

Listen: self-righteousness is no respecter of persons. It reaches to the religious and the irreligious; the "buttoned down" and the "untucked." The entire Bible reveals how shortsighted all of us are when it comes to our own sin. For example, it was easy for Jonah to see the idolatry of the sailors. It was easy for him to see the perverse ways of the Ninevites. What he couldn't see was his own idolatry, his own perversion. So the question is, in which direction does your self-righteousness lean?

Thankfully, while our self-righteousness reaches far, God's grace reaches farther. And the good news is, that it reaches in both directions!

The Double-Reach of Self-Righteousness is a post from: Tullian Tchividjian

Counterfeit Gospels

In his book How People Change (co-authored with Tim Lane), Paul Tripp identifies seven counterfeit gospels– ways we try and "justify" or "save" ourselves apart from the gospel of grace. I found these unbelievably helpful. Which one (or two, or three) of these do you tend to gravitate towards?

Formalism. "I participate in the regular meetings and ministries of the church, so I feel like my life is under control. I'm always in church, but it really has little impact on my heart or on how I live. I may become judgmental and impatient with those who do not have the same commitment as I do."

Legalism. "I live by the rules—rules I create for myself and rules I create for others. I feel good if I can keep my own rules, and I become arrogant and full of contempt when others don't meet the standards I set for them. There is no joy in my life because there is no grace to be celebrated."

Mysticism. "I am engaged in the incessant pursuit of an emotional experience with God. I live for the moments when I feel close to him, and I often struggle with discouragement when I don't feel that way. I may change churches often, too, looking for one that will give me what I'm looking for."

Activism. "I recognize the missional nature of Christianity and am passionately involved in fixing this broken world. But at the end of the day, my life is more of a defense of what's right than a joyful pursuit of Christ."

Biblicism. "I know my Bible inside and out, but I do not let it master me. I have reduced the gospel to a mastery of biblical content and theology, so I am intolerant and critical of those with lesser knowledge."

Therapism. "I talk a lot about the hurting people in our congregation, and how Christ is the only answer for their hurt. Yet even without realizing it, I have made Christ more Therapist than Savior. I view hurt as a greater problem than sin—and I subtly shift my greatest need from my moral failure to my unmet needs."

Social-ism. "The deep fellowship and friendships I find at church have become their own idol. The body of Christ has replaced Christ himself, and the gospel is reduced to a network of fulfilling Christian relationships."

As I said a few months ago in one of my sermons, there are outside-the-church idols and there are inside-the-church idols. It's the idols inside the church that ought to concern Christians most. It's easier for Christians to identify worldly idols such as money, power, selfish ambition, sex, and so on. It's the idols inside the church that we have a harder time identifying.

For instance, we know it's wrong to bow to the god of power—but it's also wrong to bow to the god of preferences. We know it's wrong to worship immorality—but it's also wrong to worship morality. We know it's wrong to seek freedom by breaking the rules—but it's also wrong to seek freedom by keeping them. We know God hates unrighteousness—but he also hates self-righteousness. We know crime is a sin—but so is control. If people outside the church try to save themselves by being bad; people inside the church try to save themselves by being good.

The good news of the gospel is that both inside and outside the church, there is only One Savior and Lord, namely Jesus. And he came, not to angrily strip away our freedom, but to affectionately strip away our slavery to lesser things so that we might become truly free!

Counterfeit Gospels is a post from: Tullian Tchividjian

Repenting Of Our Good Works

Consider these sobering thoughts from Tim Keller (The Prodigal God) on the need to repent, not simply of our unrighteousness, but our righteousness also:

What must we do, then, to be saved? To find God we must repent of the things we have done wrong, but if that is all you do, you may remain just an elder brother. To truly become a Christian we must also repent of the reasons we ever did anything right. Pharisees only repent of their sins, but Christians repent for the very roots of their righteousness, too. We must learn how to repent of the sin under all our other sins and under all our righteousness – the sin of seeking to be our own Savior and Lord. We must admit that we've put our ultimate hope in both our wrongdoing and right doing we have been seeking to get around God or get control of God in order to get hold of those things.

It is only when you see the desire to be your own Savior and Lord—lying beneath both your sins and your moral goodness—that you are on the verge of becoming a Christian indeed. When you realize that the antidote to being bad is not just being good, you are on the brink. If you follow through, it will change everything—how you relate to God, self, others, the world, your work, you sins, your virtue. It's called the new birth because its so radical"

Repenting Of Our Good Works is a post from: Tullian Tchividjian

The Gospel And The Law

Back in May I posted an interview that my friend Justin Taylor did with me for my book Surprised by Grace. Since the book is (essentially) on the outworking of the gospel in the life of Christians, Justin asked me a few questions about the gospel and the law, especially as it relates to Christian motivation.

Even though I posted this only five and a half months ago, I thought it might answer questions that some have asked with regard to Sinclair Ferguson's quote that I posted the other day on the Gospel and sanctification.

Is the gospel a middle ground between legalism and lawlessness?

This seems to be a common misunderstanding in the church today. I hear people say that there are two equal dangers Christians must avoid: legalism and lawlessness. Legalism, they say, happens when you focus too much on law, or rules. Lawlessness, they say, happens when you focus too much on grace. Therefore, in order to maintain spiritual equilibrium, you have to balance law and grace. Legalism and lawlessness are typically presented as two ditches on either side of the Gospel that we must avoid. If you start getting too much law, you need to balance it with grace. Too much grace, you need to balance it with law. But I've come to believe that this "balanced" way of framing the issue can unwittingly keep us from really understanding the gospel of grace in all of its depth and beauty.

How would you frame it instead?

I think it's more theologically accurate to say that there is one primary enemy of the gospel—legalism—but it comes in two forms.

Some people avoid the gospel and try to "save" themselves by keeping the rules, doing what they're told, maintaining the standards, and so on (you could call this "front door legalism").

Other people avoid the gospel and try to "save" themselves by breaking the rules, doing whatever they want, developing their own autonomous standards, and so on (you could call this "back door legalism").

So the choice is between submitting to the rule of Christ or submitting to self-rule?

Right. There are two "laws" we can choose to live by other than Christ: the law which says "I can find freedom and fullness of life if I keep the rules" or the law which says "I can find freedom and fullness of life if I break the rules."

Both are legalistic in this sense: one "life rule" has as its goal the keeping of rules; the other "life rule" has as its goal the breaking of rules. But both are a rule of life you're submitting to—a rule of life that is governing you—which is defined by you and your ability to perform. Success is determined by your capacity to break the rules or keep the rules. Either way you're still trying to "save" yourself—which means both are legalistic because both are self-salvation projects.

If most people outside the church are guilty of "break the rules" legalism, most people inside the church are guilty of "keep the rules" legalism.

What do you say to folks who think we need to "keep grace in check" by giving out some law?

Doing so proves that we don't understand grace and we violate gospel advancement in our lives and in the church. A "yes, grace…but" disposition is the kind of posture that keeps moralism swirling around in the church. Some of us think the only way to keep licentious people in line is by giving them the law. But the fact is, the only way licentious people start to obey is when they get a taste of God's radical acceptance of sinners. The more Jesus is held up as being sufficient for our justification and sanctification, the more we begin to die to ourselves and live to God. Those who end up obeying more are those who increasingly understand that their standing with God is not based on their obedience, but Christ's.

But don't Christians need to be shake out of their comfort zones?

Yes—but you don't do it by giving them law; you do it by giving them gospel. The Apostle Paul never uses the law as a way to motivate obedience; he always uses the gospel. Paul always soaks gospel obligations in gospel declarations because God is not concerned with just any kind of obedience; he's concerned with a certain kind of obedience (as Cain and Abel's sacrifice illustrates). The obedience that pleases God is obedience that flows from faith—faith in what God has already done, and trust for what he will do in the future. And even though we need to obey even if we don't feel like it, long-term, sustained, heart-felt, gospel motivated obedience can only come from faith and grace; not fear and guilt. Behavioral compliance without heart change, which only the gospel can do, will be shallow and short lived. Or, as I like to say, imperatives minus indicatives equal impossibilities.

So do you think the law no longer has—or should no longer have—a role in the Christian life?

No, I wouldn't say that. While the law of God is good (Romans 7), it only has the power to reveal sin and to show the standard and image of righteous requirement—not remove sin. The law shows us what God commands (which of course is good) but the law does not possess the power to enable us to do what it says. You could put it this way: the law guides but it does not give. In other words, the law shows us what a sanctified life looks like, but it does not have sanctifying power—the law cannot change a human heart. It's the gospel (what Jesus has done) that alone can give God-honoring animation to our obedience. The power to obey comes from being moved and motivated by the completed work of Jesus for us. The fuel to do good flows from what's already been done. So, while the law directs us, only the gospel can drive us.

You're the master of good word pictures. Got one for this?

Well, someone told me recently that the law is like a set of railroad tracks. The tracks provide no power for the train but the train must stay on the tracks in order to function. The law never gives any power to do what it commands. Only the gospel has power, as it were, to move the train.



But doesn't Scripture motivate us by saying that if we love Jesus we'll keep his commands?

When John (or Jesus) talks about keeping God's commands as a way to know whether you love Jesus or not, he's not using the law as a way to motivate. He's simply stating a fact. Those who love God will keep on keeping his commands. The question is how do we keep God's commands? What sustains a long obedience in the same direction? Where does the power come from to do what God commands? As every parent and teacher knows, behavioral compliance to rules without heart change will be shallow and short-lived. But shallow and short-lived is not what God wants (that's not what it means to "keep God's commands."). God wants a sustained obedience from the heart. How is that possible? Long-term, sustained, gospel-motivated obedience can only come from faith in what Jesus has already done, not fear of what we must do. To paraphrase Ray Ortlund, any obedience not grounded in or motivated by the gospel is unsustainable.

Do you believe in the so-called "third use of the law"?

Yes. I'm a staunch believer in the three uses of the law (pedagogical, civil, and didactic). The law sends us to Christ for justification (the first use—which is correct), but some would also say that Christ sends us back to law for sanctification (a misunderstanding of the third use). In other words, there's a common misunderstanding in the church that while the law cannot justify us, it can sanctify us—not true. In Romans 7 Paul is speaking as a justified, rescued, regenerated Christian and he's saying, "The law doesn't have the power to change me. The law guides but it does not give any power to do what it says." So, I would caution people from concluding that the third use of the law implies that it has power to change you. To say the law has no power to change us in no way reduces its ongoing role in the life of the Christian. And it in no way minimizes the importance of the law's third use. We just have to understand the precise role that it plays for us today: the law serves us by making us thankful for Jesus when we break it and serves us by showing how to love God and others.

How would you boil your concern down to one sentence?

We are justified by grace alone through faith alone in the finished work of Christ alone, and God sanctifies us by constantly bringing us back to the reality of our justification.

The Gospel And The Law is a post from: Tullian Tchividjian

Gospel-Driven Sanctification

Sinclair Ferguson reminds us that piety not marinated in the gospel will run out of gas–that imperatives minus indicatives equal impossibilities:

The first thing to remember is that we must never separate the benefits (regeneration, justification, sanctification) from the Benefactor (Jesus Christ). The Christians who are most focused on their own spirituality may give the impression of being the most spiritual … but from the New Testament's point of view, those who have almost forgotten about their own spirituality because their focus is so exclusively on their union with Jesus Christ and what He has accomplished are those who are growing and exhibiting fruitfulness. Historically speaking, whenever the piety of a particular group is focused on OUR spirituality that piety will eventually exhaust itself on its own resources. Only where our piety forgets about us and focuses on Jesus Christ will our piety nourished by the ongoing resources the Spirit brings to us from the source of all true piety, our Lord Jesus Christ.

Sinclair reminds us that the secret of gospel-based sanctification is that we actually perform better as we grow in our understanding that our relationship with God is based on Christ's performance for us, not our performance for him. In fact, those who end up getting better are those who increasingly realize that their relationship to God does not depend on them getting better. This means, as I said in a post a couple weeks ago, that Christian growth does not happen first by behaving better, but believing better–believing in bigger, deeper, brighter ways what Christ has already secured for sinners.

Gospel-Driven Sanctification is a post from: Tullian Tchividjian