"Nothing That is Possible Can Save Us"

Profound Christmas meditation here.

David Zahl:

The poet W.H. Auden once wrote, “Nothing that is possible can save us/ We who must die demand a miracle.” This is a bold statement, and one whose truth might not be self-evident in everyday life. Many of the problems we face on a daily level can be fixed, or at least, addressed: If our car breaks down, we can take it to the garage. If we get a headache, we can take some aspirin. If we say something mean, we can apologize, and so on.

Auden’s meaning becomes clearer when we consider problems of a less everyday nature. The kind that keep us up at night. I was speaking with a friend recently who had just separated from his wife. He told me, “I’ve done everything I can think of. Even couples’ counseling hasn’t helped. She just doesn’t want me. It’s going to take a miracle to save our marriage.” He had pursued all the right options, and nothing had worked. The problem was simply beyond him. So it is with us. Our condition is not fixable. That is, we can empirically say that the solution to human nature has not been found in the realm of “what’s possible”. Instead, we need a miracle to save us – from ourselves, from our sin, and ultimately, from death.

It should comes as no surprise that the birth of the one “who will save his people from their sins” was full of the Impossible. Mary’s pregnancy is merely the first part. Equally miraculous is the fact that Joseph actually believes what the angel tells him here. And he not only believes, he obeys. These are miracles! To explain them away or downplay their importance is to deny the extent of the Good News.

Is there a situation in your life where nothing short of a miracle will help? An impossible problem or person that just won’t go away? This passage gives us permission to acknowledge that some problems are indeed too big for us. You are not imagining things – “we who must die demand a miracle”. Yet the “glad tidings” of Christmas are that Jesus is the miracle we have been waiting for, the one who saves us. The impossible problems of this life have found their impossible answer in him. Repeat the sounding joy!

(HT: Tullian)

God is Never Obligated to Redeem

However contrary it is our our Western cultural commitment to egalitarianism, to insist on a universal application of grace is to violate the character of grace. God’s redemptive grace is a gift, a completely unearned divine favor given out of love.

The giver is always sovereign in the giving of a gift. That is to say, the giver is free to give and free not to give, and he gives the gift to whomever he chooses. The words obligation and gift mutually exclude one another. The common rejection of the doctrine of election in favor of a universally dispensed grace not only denies God the divine prerogative to chose whom he will redemptively love but also makes God’s grace a necessary structure of the world. If grace is an obligation, a structure or an entitlement, it is no longer a gift, and no longer grace.

Redemptive grace is always unexpected, beyond the norm, and out of the ordinary. Grace can never be taken for granted, assumed, or presumed upon. God is never obligated to redeem.

— Michael D. Williams, Far as the Curse is Found, 105

How Much Do I Need to Know?

A great, short article here from Dr. Michael Horton:

“How far is too far?” Growing up in conservative evangelicalism, that question was common in youth group. Of course, we were talking about physical intimacy. When everything’s reducible to making a rule or breaking a rule, it’s important to know when you’ve “crossed the line.” I’m not downplaying the importance of guiding young people through the mysterious era of puberty—and even in suggesting wise guidelines where there is no clear chapter and verse. But when “How far can I go?” is the main question, we’ve already lost too much. It suggests that character has not been formed by life in a particular community—especially home and the church—when people just want you to net it out for them like that. Usually we ask that question when we’re just about to dive in. We just want to know when to push the eject button.

A similar phenomenon happens when people ask, “How much do you need to know to be saved?” It’s like asking, “How ignorant can I be?” At one end, there’s the official Roman Catholic answer: assent to everything the church teaches. It’s called implicit faith because you can’t possibly know for yourself everything that the church teaches. The Geneva reformer John Calvin described this view as ignorance disguised as humility. At the other end, there is that line from evangelist D. L. Moody: “I can write the gospel on a dime.” How much do you need to know? Enough to lead someone to Christ in an elevator.

We recall the question of the rich young ruler. Assuming that he had so far done everything he knew to do, he asked Jesus, “What’s the one thing I have to do to be saved?” Jesus pressed him to face the full brunt of the law, showing him that he had not even begun to fulfill the duty of loving God with total devotion and loving his neighbor as himself. As confessional “Reformation” folks, we get that. However, we are so good at works-righteousness that we merely shift the bar of merit from things we do to things we know.

According to Scripture, the object of our faith is neither our actions or our knowledge, but the person of Jesus Christ. Of course, trusting a person involves knowledge and assent, but we’re saved by Christ, not by doctrines. The purpose of the doctrine is to direct us to the right person and to keep us looking to him until that day when faith yields to sight.

Read the rest.


Books by Michael Horton:

• The Christian Faith: A Systematic Theology for Pilgrims on the Way
• Christless Christianity: The Alternative Gospel of the American Church
• Putting Amazing Back into Grace: Embracing the Heart of the Gospel
• For Calvinism
• The Gospel-Driven Life: Being Good News People in a Bad News World
• A Better Way: Rediscovering the Drama of God-Centered Worship
• The Law of Perfect Freedom

How Do You Know You Are a Christian?

J.D. Greear with a great response to this very important question:

I get the question from Christians a lot: “How can I know for sure that I’m saved?” So often, in fact, that I wrote a book addressing it: Stop Asking Jesus Into Your Heart (which you can pre-order here). I struggled with the question a lot myself until someone pointed me to passage from 1 John that helped open my eyes. In 1 John 5:13–18, John identifies 2 ways that we can be sure of our salvation.

1. We have placed our hopes for heaven entirely on Jesus. (1 John 5:13)

“I write these things to you,” John says, “who believe in the name of the Son of God.” It’s so simple that we’re liable to miss it, but assurance comes from believing in Jesus. This is the gospel: when we trust in his name, we cease striving to earn heaven by drawing upon our own moral bank account; instead, we withdraw on his righteous account in our place.

The gospel, by its very nature, produces assurance. Because the gospel proclaims “Jesus in my place,” my assurance does not depend on how well or how much I have done. It depends on whether or not I rest in his finished work. So the question is not, “Can I remember praying a prayer?” or “Was my conversion experience really emotional?” The important question is, “Are you currently resting on Jesus as the payment for your sin?”

A lot of Christians get caught up looking for assurance to a prayer they prayed 2 years, 5 years, or 30 years ago. But John does not say, “I write these things to you who prayed the sinner’s prayer.” He writes to those who believe. The point is not the prayer you prayed, but the present posture you are in.

2. You have a new nature. (vv. 16–18)

If you have been born of God you have been given a new nature. And that comes with new desires. So you do not “keep on sinning,” as John writes, because you have new desires. As an earthy way to think about this, you might imagine some vomit on the ground. None of us would require a list of rules keeping us from eating it. Why? Because we find it disgusting. Now, a dog has a totally different nature, with different desires. A dog would find that vomit as appetizing as we find it disgusting.

This is how God changes us: not by browbeating us with rules, but by giving us a new heart. You no longer love dishonesty and hatefulness and immorality like you used to. You do not avoid them because of threats from God, but because these things start to make you sick.

Of course, this does not mean that you become immediately perfect, or that you no longer struggle with sin. But you stop engaging in sin willfully and defiantly. You cannot love God and love the things that grieve him. You cannot have a mouth that sings praise to Jesus with a life that openly crucifies him. It is not your mouth that best reflects your love for God; it is your life.

And when you do start to go back toward your sin—which we all do!—Jesus protects you and renews you (v. 18). In fact, one of the signs that your salvation is genuine is that even though you fall, you never permanently fall away. God brings you back, again and again. As Proverbs says, “The righteous man falls seven times, and rises again” (Prov 24:16).

Your new nature is not demonstrated by never falling, but by what you do when you fall. Salvation does not means sinless perfection, but it does mean a new direction.

Books by J.D. here.  

Human Nature on Display in Lance Armstrong

Mockingbird Blog:

The Wall Street Journal (online) has a piece in the January 15 issue called “Behind Lance Armstrong’s Decision to Talk” which attributes a quote to the athlete, and a response by a bureaucrat, that is decidedly not a snore. In a meeting with Travis Tygart, the head of the United States Anti-Doping Agency (USADA), Armstrong pointed to himself and said,”You don’t hold the keys to my redemption. There’s one person who holds the keys to my redemption, and that’s me.” We’ve covered this human desire before (most specifically HERE), but the fascinating thing about this quote isn’t the brazenness; it’s the common nature of the refrain.

Everyone thinks that their redemption is up to them. Except, maybe, for Travis Tygart. Upon hearing Armstrong’s claim, Tygart allegedly responded, “That’s b-[expletive].” Now Tygart seems to have simply been calling bull-waste on Armstrong’s allusion to redemption in any form, claiming that the cyclist would do and say anything to be allowed to race again. But his initial reaction is accurate. The idea that we hold the keys to our own redemption is total b-[expletive].

That Armstrong might believe that baring his soul (or, at least, the contents of his medicine cabinet) to Oprah would lead to his redemption is, at worst, cynical in the extreme and at best, evidence of a woefully weak definition of redemption.

When Christians talk about redemption, we don’t refer to a return to a prior state of good standing.  Some do, actually, but such thinking, as Gerhard Forde points out in his seminal On Being a Theologian of the Cross, hinges on the un-Biblical notion of a “Fall.”   We imagine that we were once at a certain place in our relationship with God, we messed that up, and Jesus gives us the ability to get back. That is, according to Forde, “a tightly woven theology of glory.” The truth is so much better. In our redemption (in real redemption) we are saved to a state higher than we ever had before: we are regarded as one with Christ, as God’s own son.

If that is the gift, then we cannot hold the keys.  And thank goodness, too, because when another (a saving Christ) holds them, our gift is immeasurably more valuable.

Is This a Good Illustration for Salvation?

Michael Kelley:

Imagine yourself stranded at sea. There is no boat in sight; no piece of driftwood to hold you up. Just you and the water. Sure, you’ve had some swim lessons, but you’re no fool – you know that in this vast ocean there is only so long you can tread water. The minutes start to tick by, one by one, and with each second you know that your strength is a little bit less than it was before. Then you notice that your kicking legs are starting to feel heavy. You tilt your head back as you realize that you’re starting to sink deeper. Now your ears are almost fully submerged. You know the end is close, and then suddenly you take on that first bit of water. You cough it up and your heart begins to race. You come to the sudden realization that there is no hope for you. Your head dips again and you prepare yourself to swallow, when suddenly, out of nowhere, you see the rope being thrown your way. With your last ounce of strength, you grab it, and you are pulled to safety. That is what it means to be saved. Jesus, when you couldn’t save yourself, tosses you a line at the cross. Just reach up and grab it and He will pull you to safety.

Michael writes about how this seems like a good picture at first blush, but actually doesn't square at all with what the Bible teaches.

Get Michael's new book here.

But What If I Don't Feel Authentic Assurance?

J.D. Greear:

If you were honest, you’d probably admit there are moments when you do not feel “Christian” at all. Moments in which you care more about what’s coming on TV that night than you do the spread of the kingdom of God in the world. Moments in which you have fallen to that same old temptation for the thousandth time. Moments when God feels distant, almost like a stranger. Seasons in which your emotions for Him are lukewarm, if not downright cold. When you don’t jump out of bed in the morning hungry for His Word. When your mind wanders all over the place during prayer—that is, when you can bring yourself to pray. Moments when you’re not even sure you believe all this stuff.
Does that sound familiar to you? Times like that are familiar to me. Not all the time, not even most of the time, but certainly more often than I’d care to admit.

What do you do in that moment? Pray “the sinners’ prayer” again? Should I call my old church and have the pastor fill up the all-too-familiar baptismal?

The answer is to keep believing the gospel, to keep your hand on the head of the Lord Jesus Christ. No matter how we feel at any given moment, how encouraged or discouraged we feel about our spiritual progress, how hot or cold our love for Jesus, the answer is always the same—exercise faith in the gospel.

On your very best of days, you must rest all your hopes on God’s grace to you in Christ. On your worst of days, it should be your refuge and your boast. Your posture should always be one of dependence on it.

Many people assume the “feeling” of being saved indicates whether or not they actually are saved. Feelings, however, are fickle and dangerously misleading, and Scripture never points us to our “feelings” for assurance. Feelings come from assurance; they are not the basis for it. Assurance is based on the fact of Christ’s finished work; our “feelings” of being saved come from faith in that finished work.

This is an except from J.D.'s forthcoming book. Check it out here.

Self-Deception is Real

Michael Kelley:

Matthew 7 is one of the most terrifying texts in the entire Bible:

“Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord!’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of My Father in heaven. On that day many will say to Me, ‘Lord, Lord, didn’t we prophesy in Your name, drive out demons in Your name, and do many miracles in Your name?’ Then I will announce to them, ‘I never knew you! Depart from Me, you lawbrakers!’”

Now there’s a text that will make you take a second look at your life. What’s truly disturbing is the sense of absolute and complete surprise you find in these people. It never, until that very moment, entered their minds that they might be unknown to Jesus. They had lived – possibly for years, or even decades, under the delusion that they were safe.

Secure.

True servants of Christ.

Self-deception is real. If it weren’t, you wouldn’t find the surprise in these people. Nor would you find Paul exhorting the congregation at Corinth to examine themselves to see if they are indeed in the faith.

We’re all capable of self-deception. Hopefully not to this degree, but the simple truth is that we don’t know ourselves nearly as well as we’d like to think.

But, in His grace, God has given us the medicine for the disease of self-deception.

Read the rest.

Am I Really a Christian? - A Recommendation

Brian Croft writes:

My dear friend, Mike McKinley (Pastor of Guilford Baptist Church) has finally done it. He has addressed the elephant in the American evangelical room. That elephant is the massive presence of nominal Christians (Christian only in name) that severely skews the witness of the gospel and a true representation of what a follower of Jesus Christ really is. He has sufficiently done this in his new book, Am I Really a Christian? just released a few weeks ago. Mike’s witty, humorous writing style only heightens the enjoyment of this biblically rich book that calls all Christians to examine their faith and the genuineness of it. Mike has done much of the heavy lifting for us in this short, helpful book. There is also a website connected to the book to serve pastors and those wrestling with this needed self examination here.

Pastors, we simply need to buy stacks of this book and give them out to both those in our church as well as out who need to be challenged in this way.

Can I Be Saved Amid Continued Moral Failings?

Very helpful.



(HT:  Dane Ortlund)

Be Reminded of Your Assurance

"Whoever comes to me I will never cast out."
John 6:37

There is no expiration date on this promise. It does not merely say, "I will not cast out a sinner at his first coming," but "I will never cast him out." The original reads, "I will not, not cast out," or "I will never, never cast out." The text means that Christ will not at first reject a believer, and that as He will not do it at first, so He will not to the last.

But suppose the believer sins after coming? "If anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." 1 John 2:1 But believers may fall under temptation! "God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it." 1 Corinthians 10:13 But the believer may fall into sin as David did! Yes, but He will "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." Psalm 51:7

Once in Christ, in Christ forever, Nothing from His love can sever.

Jesus said, "I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand." John 10:28 What do you say to this, O trembling, feeble mind? This is a precious mercy. Coming to Christ, you do not come to One who will treat you well for a little while and then send you about your business, but He will receive you and make you His bride, and you shall be His forever! Live no longer in the spirit of bondage to fear, but in the spirit of adoption, which cries, "Abba, Father!" Oh, the grace of these words: "I will never cast out."

- Spurgeon, Morning and Evening

(HT: STR Blog)

5 Ways to Know If You're Really a Christian

A good post here on assurance of salvation from Owen Strachan.

What is the Basis of Your Assurance?

Telling people the need for the gospel, both their felt need and the real need, is plainly important, but it is not itself the gospel.  When we have explained what God has done for us in Christ - the gospel - then we may go on to explain the benefits of receiving the gospel and the perils of ignoring it.  However, telling people that they can choose either heaven or hell is not telling them the gospel.  Telling them, as Peter did, that repentance and faith go hand in hand with the gift of the Holy Spirit is important, but it is not the gospel.  

Whenever people's sense of assurance of salvation is expressed in the first person, something is amiss.  When the question "How do you know God will accept you?" is answered by "I have Jesus in my heart, " "I asked Jesus into my life, " "The Holy Spirit is in me, " and so on, the real gospel basis for assurance needs to be reviewed.  We rejoice when the answer comes in the third person: "God gave his only Son to die on the cross for me, " "Jesus died, rose, and is in heaven for me." When the focus is on the finished and perfect work of Christ, rather than on the yet unfinished work of the Spirit in me, the grounds for assurance are in place.  

- Graeme Goldsworthy, Preaching the Whole Bible As Christian Scripture: The Application of Biblical Theology to Expository Preaching, 95

Trust & Treasure

Erik Raymond:

I recently had  a great discussion with my 10 year old son. He was remarking about how the word ‘believe’ is so often tossed around in different ways. He mentioned that we believe there are certain planets, countries and stuff. And then people say they believe in Jesus. His point (in my words) was that it seems that to believe in Jesus means a little more than to just have some mental assent or agreement.

As I sat with him I was so encouraged with the depth of the question. On the face of it, it appears that he is wrestling with the demands and glory of Christ in the gospel. I love this type of wrestling from him.

While we talked and worked through things I tried to help him understand what we are getting at in terms of believing in Christ. We broke it up into two helpful terms: Trust & Treasure.

Read the rest.

Am I Really A Christian?

Pastor J.D.:

Over the years I have found that an astonishing number of Christians do not possess an assurance of their salvation. They are hopeful, and fairly sure, but still—in times of struggle and doubt, they cannot find that absolute certainty that they belong to God and are safe with Him. This doubt cripples your ability to grow in your love for God, the security that produces radical obedience, and the gratefulness that produces radical generosity.

What if we can’t “remember” the moment when we first made the decision to trust Jesus and “place our hand on His head”? It doesn’t really matter. All that matters is that you’re trusting Him as Lord and Savior right now. Think of it like this: I walk into a classroom and sit down in a chair. About halfway through the class you ask me if I ever made a decision to sit in the chair. I say “yes,” and you ask me how I know that I made that decision. I don’t walk you through the decision making process that led me to sit in the chair, reviving the logic and emotions that caused me to take seat. I simply show you that I am currently seated. 

Read the rest.