Our Doctrinal and Liturgical Bramble Bushes
Theology - Life in the Regeneration
Written by Douglas Wilson
Monday, 30 April 2012
I am fond of saying that grace has a backbone, but I think it is time
to explain what I mean by that. The context of these remarks is the
general and current ongoing discussion about the worrisome trajectories
of all those incipient legalists and antinomians out there. The
incipient legalists are the ones the incipient antinominans are worried
about, and vice versa.
Of course, as things stand right now in the Reformed world things are
generally copacetic, at least as far as this topic goes. If we lived in
a truly confessional age, with great preaching, theological geniuses
writing their tomes, and so on, then we would have to worry about the
naked Quakers running through Safeway again, and legalistic Anglican
bishops cutting off people's thumbs for having broken some stupid rule.
But as it is, we are too anemic to get into serious trouble with
legalism or antinomianism. We are the bland leading the bland,
which
provides us with some small measure of imagined safety, at least for a
time.
So what is the relationship of the grace of God to the (seemingly
unrelated) world of hard moral effort? If the grace of God is in all and
through all, and beneath us all, then why do we still have to sweat
bullets? Are those who sweat bullets abandoning the grace of God? Are
those who rejoice in free forgiveness forsaking the demands of
discipleship?
I recently finished another book by my favorite Puritan writer, Thomas Watson, and the book was Heaven Taken by Storm, his exposition of Matthew 11:12.
Throughout the book Watson seems to regard the whole grace/works thing
with a serene and admirable above-it-all-ness. He will say, on the one
hand, that while Christ bled, you must sweat. But on the other hand, he says, "Though we shall not obtain the kingdom without violence, yet it shall also not be obtained for our violence."
I am reminded of comment that Spurgeon made once when asked how he
reconciled divine sovereignty with human responsibility. He replied that
he did not even try -- he never sought to reconcile friends. If we
think about it rightly, from the vantage of those jealous for moral
probity, we will never try to reconcile grace with works -- that would
be like trying to reconcile an apple tree with its apples. And, if we
think about it rightly, from the vantage of those jealous for the
wildness of grace, we will never try to reconcile grace with merit, for
the two are mortal enemies and cannot be reconciled.
But those who insist that apple trees must always produce apples will
make the friends of free grace nervous, not because they have anything
against apples, but rather because they know the human propensity for
manufacturing shiny plastic apples, with the little hooks that make it
easy to hang them, like so many Christmas tree ornaments, on our
doctrinal and liturgical bramble bushes. But on the other hand, those
who insist that true grace always messes up the categories of the
ecclesiastical fussers make the friends of true moral order nervous --
because there are, after all, numerous warnings (from people like Jesus
and Paul, who should have a place in these particular
discussions, after all) about those who "live this way" not inheriting
the kingdom. Kind of cold, according to some people, but the wedding
banquet is the kind of event you can get thrown out of.
So what is the relationship of grace to hard, moral effort? Well, hard, moral effort is
a grace. It is not every grace, but it is a true grace. It is a gift of
God, lest any should boast. We are God's workmanship, created in Christ
Jesus to do good works, and this is a description of someone being
saved by grace through faith, and not by works (Eph. 2:8-10).
This is all summed up in another glorious passage as well -- "work
out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God which
worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure" (Phil. 2:12-13). We are called to work out what God works in, and absolutely nothing else.
If we don't work out that salvation (as evidenced by the fruit of it),
then that is clear evidence that God is not working anything in.
If we work out some pressboard imitation (a salvation that has the
look of real wood!), then that shows that God is not working anything in
there either. Moralism is just a three-dollar flashlight to light the
pathway to Hell with. And of course, if we are guilty of the opposite
error, if our lives are manifesting a lineup of dirty deeds done dirt
cheap, the only real sin we are avoiding is that of hypocrisy. Overt
immorality is the fifty-dollar flashlight.
This is why we need a little more of "in Him we live and move and have our being." Actually, we need a lot more
of it. The answer to the grace/works dilemma is high octane Calvinism,
and by this, I don't mean the formulaic kind. If God is the one Paul
preached -- the one of whom it can be said "of him, and through him, and
to him, are all things" -- then where in the universe are you going to
hide your damned merit? If He is Almighty God, and He starts to
transform your tawdry little life into something resembling Jesus, who
are you to tell Him that He is now wavering on the brink of dangerous
legalisms?
By the way, my use of damned a few lines up was not frivolous swearing. I meant damned merit. And no, I don't think I am C.S. Lewis.
The bottom line is that we cannot balance our notions of grace with
works or our notions of works with grace. We need to get off that
particular teeter totter. We have to balance absolutely everything in
our lives with God Himself, who is the font of everlasting grace -- real
grace. Real grace is the context of everything. If we preach the
supremacy of God in Christ, and the absolute lordship of that bleeding
Christ, and the efficacious work of the Spirit in us who raised Jesus
from the dead, then a number of other things will resolve themselves in a
multitude of wonderful ways. Those wonderful ways will be seen by a
watching world as something they will call good works. We can call them
that too, if we want, as Paul makes free to do in Titus. And when
unbelievers ask us where these works come from, we need to chuckle and
say, "Where everything does. From Jesus, man."
In Jesus, we are the new humanity. Is Jesus grace or works? Jesus
lives in the garden of God's everlasting favor, and we are in Him. In
Christ, there are no prohibited trees. Outside Him, they are all prohibited.
That means there is only one real question to answer, and it does not
involve any grace/works ratios. The question is more basic than that,
and has to do with the new birth.
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