Justin Taylor's Blog, page 363

Gospel Grace, the Pursuit of Holiness, and the Charge of Antinomianism

Last week there were a number of posts in the Reformed blogosphere about the charge of antinomianism (literally, that which is anti-nomos, against law).

Here is an exchange worth highlighting:

Jason Hood started it off with a CT online article entitled "Heresy is Heresy, Not the Litmus Test of Gospel Preaching."

He describes the problem he is addressing:

Antinomianism is lawlessness, believing and teaching an obligation-free version of Christianity. In certain quarters of the evangelical world, being accused of antinomianism is increasingly considered to be a symptom of a healthy ministry. This belief has a long pedigree; no less an authority than Martyn Lloyd-Jones believed there was "no better test" of gospel fidelity than the accusation of antinomianism.

And his conclusion summarizes his argument in response:

We should strive to avoid the charge of antinomianism. And if Paul is our model, if such charges ever do come they must be refuted with the strongest language and clearest corrections possible. They should not be met by a nod and a checkmark on our fidelity chart.

Brief responses were written by Michael Horton (excerpt: "What's striking is that Paul answers antinomianism not with the law but with more gospel!  In other words, antinomians are not people who believe the gospel too much, but too little!  They restrict the power of the gospel to the problem of sin's guilt, while Paul tells us that the gospel is the power for sanctification as well as justification.") and Tullian Tchividjian (excerpt: "The issue is not whether obedience, the pursuit of holiness, and the practice of godliness is important. Of course it is. The issue is how do we keep God's commands?").

Dane Ortlund gave a more direct response. Agreeing with Hood that antinomianism is antithetical to biblical Christianity, Ortlund focuses on two ways to avoid it:

One way is to balance gospel grace with exhortations to holiness, as if both need equal air time lest we fall into legalism on one side (neglecting grace) or antinomianism on the other (neglecting holiness).

The other way, which I believe is the right and biblical way, is so to startle this restraint-free culture with the gospel of free justification that the functional justifications of human approval, moral performance, sexual indulgence, or big bank accounts begin to lose their vice-like grip on human hearts and their emptiness is exposed in all its fraudulence. It sounds backward, but the path to holiness is through (not beyond) the grace of the gospel, because only undeserved grace can truly melt and transform the heart. The solution to restraint-free immorality is not morality. The solution to immorality is the free grace of God—grace so free that it will be (mis)heard by some as a license to sin with impunity. The route by which the New Testament exhorts radical obedience is not by tempering grace but by driving it home all the more deeply.

Let's pursue holiness. (Without it we won't see God: Matt 5:8; Heb 12:14.) And let's pursue it centrally through enjoying the gospel, the same gospel that got us in and the same gospel that liberates us afresh each day (1 Cor 15:1–2; Gal 2:14; Col 1:23; 2:6). As G. C. Berkouwer wisely remarked, "The heart of sanctification is the life which feeds on justification."

Jason, if we are accused of antinomianism and our response is a nod and a glib smile, then Paul has something scathing to say to us (Rom 3:8b). There is such a thing as antinomianism. And it is a tragic underestimation, not overestimation, of grace. And, with you, I want nothing to do with it. But if we are accused of antinomianism and our response is Romans 6—which does not retract Romans 1–5 but presses it home even further—then we may be comforted that we are following in the footsteps of the apostle, and that our ministry is "adequately pressurized by grace."

In his surrejoinder, Hood zeroes in on the model of sanctification required to refute antinomianism:

There's certainly some truth to what Ortlund says. Joyfully remembering our justification and forgiveness are important tools in holiness. But it's not the approach to sanctification modeled by Paul, which is why it is hard to be consistent with that model. (Admittedly he only lays his version out briefly.) Shouldn't that tip us off that the approach of "sanctification by justification" Ortlund holds out as the only biblical approach to sanctification does not fully reflect Paul's approach to sanctification?

If so, aren't effort and action central to sanctification? Isn't exhortation to holiness vital? Why are these things—for new creation believers with new life and new ability—not all gracious gifts from God?

Some of my Reformed brothers and sisters do not know that they can please the Lord (1 Thes. 4:1; Rom. 8:8-9), or be holy (2 Cor. 7:1; or as Ortlund notes, that we will not see God without being holy and pure), or that religious acts are acceptable to God, not something to repent of (Jas. 1:27, Acts 10:4). In both his Romans and Ephesians expositions, James Montgomery Boice calls this "The New Humanity." But too many Reformed people I meet think that they are no different from unbelievers. They sadly do not know what Murray, Packer, and Ferguson taught us, and what broader evangelicalism celebrates: regeneration and the power of the Holy Spirit in believers.

Ortlund gets the last word in the exchange, and he begins by summarizing the many ways in which they agree, and focuses on what appears to be the heart of their disagreement:

You want to call people to holiness, as the new creatures they are, and bring them into a deep awareness the gospel of grace. I want to call people to holiness, as the new creatures they are, by bringing them into deeper and deeper awareness of the gospel of grace. You believe "effort and action [are] central to sanctification." I believe the gospel is central to sanctification, and that effort and action are neither central nor optional (optional = antinomianism) but integral.

The rhythm of the New Testament is "walk in love as a response to how deeply you are loved in Christ." "Be imitators of God, as beloved children" (Eph 5:1). In a nutshell: if the imperatives of Scripture are extracted in preaching without being self-consciously placed within their (heart-transforming) indicative framework, then such bald imperatives will invariably devolve into a counterproductive reinforcement of the Pharisee lurking in every human heart—even the regenerate human heart.

For the regenerate, holiness has taken on a strangely attractive hue, for God is now our loving Father, not our wrathful judge. We now delight in the law in a way we never did (never could) before. But the law itself remains impotent to generate this holiness. The law can guide us, but not propel us. It is a steering wheel, not an engine.

I wish all online debates could be this thoughtful, respectful, and productive. Click on their names above if you want to read the full posts.

Evangelistic Preaching on Sunday Morning?

TGC is doing a very helpful series on evangelism, asking pastors for counsel on some good questions. Thus far:

Why Don't I Evangelize?
Evangelism and Apologetics: Preaching the Gospel, Answering Objections
Church Programs vs. Personal Evangelism
Evangelism for the Rest of Us

In the latest entry, Pastor Ryan Kelly gives a thoughtful and nuanced answer to the question of the role of evangelistic preaching on Sunday mornings.

Below is but one of his points, which is worth highlighting. He explains that in 1 Corinthians 14:23-25, Paul acknowledges the presence of unbelievers in the gathering of corporate worship and provides counsel for how to instruct:

He tells the Corinthians that unbelievers will not understand "tongues," but they might understand "prophecy." The hope is that an unbeliever might come to conviction, repentance, faith, and worship. But this will only happen through intelligible proclamation and worship. For most of our churches, the proper application of this passage has less to do with avoiding tongues in corporate worship and more to do with avoiding a kind of Christian-ese verbiage, which could be almost as confusing to unbelievers as tongues. Practically and specifically, this might shape a pastor's preparation and communication in the following ways:

By dropping many of evangelicalism's common idioms, such as "invite Jesus into your heart," "make a decision for Jesus," or "it's a real God-thing."
By defining biblical-theological words or concepts that, though they may be common in Scripture, are foreign to the secular culture—e.g., propitiation, atonement, substitution, etc.
By knowing how certain biblical words or concepts are also used in the world, but in a very different way. For instance, the world loves stories of "redemption" where a misunderstood, seriously wronged down-and-outer pulls himself up by his bootstraps and comes out on top. But in the biblical concept of redemption, we are wrong, not just wronged; we are helpless, not just misunderstood; we need utter and complete rescue, not just a leg-up.
By describing and illustrating biblical concepts in plain, even culturally aware, vernacular.
By anticipating the common objections and doubts that unbelievers might bring to that Sunday's passage, and answering those objections in patient, human, and clear ways.
By tying the themes of the passage into the big picture of the Bible's storyline. Of course, this is simply what we call biblical theology, but many of us preachers need to use this discipline less as a means of wowing the saints with new-found inter-canonical connections and more as a simple demonstration to unbelievers that the Bible is a whole and has a grand story.
By explaining the parts of the service: what is happening in the service and why the church does this or that particular thing

An Interview with John Feinberg on Ethics for a Brave New World

John and Paul Feinberg's Ethics for a Brave New World, now in a revised and update edition, is my go-to book for ethical questions.

You can read online for free the prefaces, table of contents, and the first chapter on ethical and moral decision-making.

Recently I was able to sit down with Professor Feinberg to talk about a few issues related to the book. I've tried to outline our conversation (with time-stamps) below:

0:00-1:00 Origin of the book

1:00-2:00 What has changed in the last 20 years requiring a new edition?

2:00-3:30 Why this is not just an academic project but has personal stories behind it

3:30-6:45 How Feinberg approaches ethics and ethical theory

6:45-9:25 How to think ethically about issues that weren't around during biblical times

9:25-13:25 How to think through moral dilemmas

13:25-15:00 The importance of clarity in writing on ethics

15:00-21:00 Is in vitro fertilization morally permissible?

21:00-23:15 Ethical issues related to genetic engineering, gene therapy, etc.

How to Write a Theological Paper

John Frame explains his method for writing theology, and gives some advice along the way.

Here is one of his 11 points:

Be self-critical. Before and during your writing, anticipate objections. If you are criticizing Barth, imagine Barth looking over your shoulder, reading your manuscript, giving his reactions. This point is crucial. A truly self-critical attitude can save you from unclarity and unsound arguments. It will also keep you from arrogance and unwarranted dogmatism—faults common to all theology (liberal as well as conservative). Don't hesitate to say "probably" or even "I don't know" when the circumstances warrant. Self-criticism will also make you more "profound." For often—perhaps usually—it is objections that force us to rethink our positions, to get beyond our superficial ideas, to wrestle with the really deep theological issues. As you anticipate objections to your replies to objections to your replies, and so forth, you will find yourself being pushed irresistibly into the realm of the "difficult questions," the theological profundities.

In self-criticism the creative use of the theological imagination is tremendously important. Keep asking such questions as these. (a) Can I take my source's idea in a more favorable sense? A less favorable one? (b) Does my idea provide the only escape from the difficulty, or are there others? (c) In trying to escape from one bad extreme, am I in danger of falling into a different evil on the other side? (d) Can I think of some counter-examples to my generalizations? (e) Must I clarify my concepts, lest they be misunderstood? (f) Will my conclusion be controversial and thus require more argument than I had planned?

Praying for Jewish Liberation

Robert Murray McCheyne—like the Puritans before him—prayed fervently for the conversion of Israel to the Lord.

As Herman Ridderbos once wrote, "There is . . . no contradiction between the definition of the essence of the New Testament church as the people of God and holding to Israel as the object of God's irrevocable gift of grace and calling" (Paul: An Outline of His Theology, p. 360).

Today, on the 66th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau, John Piper suggests it would be an especially good time to pause to pray that our Jewish friends would come to a saving knowledge of the truth.

The Fear of the Lord and the Cross of Christ

John Brown (1851):

Nothing is so well fitted to put the fear of God—which will preserve men from offending him—into the heart, as an enlightened view of the cross of Christ.

There shines

spotless holiness,
inflexible justice,
incomprehensible wisdom,
omnipotent power,
holy love.

None of these excellencies darken or eclipse the other, but every one of them rather gives a lustre to the rest.

They mingle their beams, and shine with united eternal splendor:

the just Judge,
the merciful Father,
the wise Governor.

Nowhere does

justice appear so awful,
mercy so amiable, or
wisdom so profound.

HT: Jerry Bridges, The Joy of Fearing God, via David Sunday

The Difference Between Puritans and Evangelicals on Communion with God

A convicting quote I return to again and again:

. . . whereas to the Puritans communion with God was a great thing, to evangelicals today it is a comparatively small thing.

The Puritans were concerned about communion with God in a way that we are not.

The measure of our unconcern is the little that we say about it.

When Christians meet, they talk to each other about their Christian work and Christian interests, their Christian acquaintances, the state of the churches, and the problems of theology—but rarely of their daily experience of God.

Modern Christian books and magazines contain much about Christian doctrine, Christian standards, problems of Christian conduct, techniques of Christian service—but little about the inner realities of fellowship with God. Our sermons contain much sound doctrine—but little relating to the converse between the soul and the Saviour.

We do not spend much time, alone or together, in dwelling on the wonder of the fact that God and sinners have communion at all; no, we just take that for granted, and give our minds to other matters.

Thus we make it plain that communion with God is a small thing to us.

But how different were the Puritans! The whole aim of their 'practical and experimental' preaching and writing was to explore the reaches of the doctrine and practice of man's communion with God.

—J. I. Packer, A Quest for Godliness (Crossway, 1994), p. 215 (chapter 12).

Mary v. Zechariah on Fear of the Lord

When Zechariah the elderly priest and Mary the young virgin encountered a word from the Lord by means of an angel, they both found the experience troubling and frightening:

"And Zechariah was troubled when he saw him, and fear fell upon him" (Luke 1:12).

"But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be" (Luke 1:29).

And in both cases the angel's first command was against the fear they were feeling:

"But the angel said to him, "Do not be afraid, Zechariah . . ." (Luke 1:13).

"And the angel said to her, 'Do not be afraid, Mary . . .'"  (Luke 1:30).

Mary obeyed the command with fear-filled faith.

Zechariah initially disbelieved with fear-filled doubt.

But in her song of praise to God (the Magnificat) Mary commends the fear of the Lord:

"And his mercy is for those who fear [God] from generation to generation" (Luke 1:50).

And in his prophecy, Zechariah discourages fear before the Lord. He recalls that Israel was shown mercy and delivered in order that they

"might serve [God] without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all our days" (Luke 1:74-75).

John Newton got to the heart of this biblical paradox:

The Lord bids me "fear not"—and at the same time he says, "Happy is the man who fears always."

How to fear and not to fear at the same time is, I believe, one branch of that secret of the Lord which none can understand but by the teaching of his Spirit.

When I think of my heart, of the world of the power of darkness—what cause of continual fear! I am on an enemy's ground, and cannot move a step but some snare is spread for my feet.

But when I think of the person, grace, power, care, and faithfulness of my Savior, why may I not say — I will trust and not be afraid, for the Lord Almighty is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge.

I wish to be delivered from anxious and unbelieving fear, which weakens the hands and disquiets the heart.

I wish to increase in a humble jealousy and distrust of myself and of everything about me.

Why You Need to Be Critical in Order to Be Teachable

Mortimer Adler, How to Read a Book (p. 140):

Teachability is often confused with subservience.

A person is wrongly thought to be teachable if he is passive and pliable.

On the contrary, teachability is an extremely active virtue.

No one is really teachable who does not freely exercise his power of independent judgment. He can be trained, perhaps, but not taught. The most teachable reader is, therefore, the most critical. He is the reader who finally responds to a book by the greatest effort to make up his own mind on the matters the author has discussed.

"Dark, Small, Stroby, Headache Inducing, Alienating. And Expensive."

That's the conclusion of Walter Murch—"the most respected film editor and sound designer in the modern cinema"—regarding 3D movies. He explains why.