Sermon Series: By Way of Reminder

  • The Doctrines of Grace: A Review

    The Doctrines of Grace: A Review

    This sermon is from the Rev. Charles G. Dennison sermon archive, part of the “By Way of Reminder” series, and was preached at Grace Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Sewickley, PA, during a worship service on Sunday, December 8, 1996.

    About this sermon

    The series closes with a review of its central themes and one more pass through the five points of Calvinism, tying the doctrines of grace together as a fitting reminder of all that has come before.

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    Sermon transcript

    Tonight we are reading from Romans chapter 8, beginning with verse 28. This is Romans chapter 8, verse 28. Give your attention to God’s holy word. And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brothers. And whom He predestined, these He also called, and whom He called, these He also justified, and whom He justified, these He also glorified.

    What then shall we say about these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, will He not also, along with Him, freely give us all things? Who will bring a charge against God’s elect? God is the one who justifies. Who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus is He who died, yes, rather, who is raised. He is at the right hand of God and also intercedes for us.

    Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written: “For Your sake we are being put to death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us.

    For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

    Our Father, we ask for that continuing work from You, that we who are the beneficiaries of Your salvation would show forth the humility that is resident in Christ, the one by whom we are saved. Lord, if there is restoration for us through this one who bears perfectly Your image, then, O God, we know that as humility has adorned Him, humility must also adorn us. We, having been made sons, are being conformed to the image of the Son. And, Father, be with us in our pride. To this end, O God, help us with the means of grace, help us in our relationships with one another, and bless and strengthen this fellowship even according to Your grace.

    This we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen. Tonight I am bringing to a close these messages by way of reminder. Now I realize that some of you may have some argument with me in my approach throughout this series. For I have taken the approach of addressing this matter along historical lines, that is to say, with an event consciousness, at the very center of my approach. We started by remembering the Reformation and the way in which the Reformation laid hold of the finality and the sufficiency of Christ’s work.

    There we were focusing upon the event of God’s redemption, and this in contrast to the Roman Catholic Church’s inability and even refusal to present such teaching. As we noted, the Reformation turned upon the Apostle Paul and Luther’s rediscovery of the gospel. The Reformation turned upon that gospel of salvation by sovereign grace through faith apart from the works of the law. But we also saw that this gospel of justification for sinners was part of a larger picture, namely the grand and expansive transition from the old fleshly order to the new eternal order of the Spirit, and that the justification of sinners is actually a part of this new, wider, grander administration, in which our condemnation has been removed. There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, for those who walk according to the Spirit, not according to the flesh.

    We then connected Paul’s teaching about the Spirit to Christ’s teaching about the kingdom, recognizing how the two messages coincide, in keeping with the focus upon the gracious arrival of God’s new administration, and that administration’s future fulfillment when the coming of the kingdom shall be consummated.

    Because of this divine economy, we are accustomed to speak about the already and the not yet, that with respect to the message that the Apostle Paul puts forward, and that with respect to the message that Jesus Christ puts forward in his teaching concerning the kingdom. But the Gospel of John makes it clear that this already-not-yet reality of the Christian life is oriented toward heaven. The already of our salvation is a participation, while we are yet in this world, in the eternal life of glory. The not yet is the fact that while we are in our bodies, we are as yet not raised from the dead, as we shall be on the last day.

    Having worked our way back through the Reformation to Paul, and from there to the Synoptic Gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—and from there to the Gospel of John, we then took account of the covenant. Our hope here was the recovery of that sense of communion and bond between God and His people, which is at the center of the covenantal relationship. It is important to stress here that our objective is not to dismiss the law, which has functioned so prominently in Reformed exposition of the covenant. It is to see that the law has a supportive and subordinate role in relation to the wider issues at stake in the covenant. But neither is it to dismiss the family, which also has functioned so prominently in Reformed exposition of the covenant. For we see that the family is supportive and, at the same time, subordinate to the wider vision of the covenant.

    All along in this series, we have been offering a different perspective on those things that we have often heard about the Reformed faith. As I said at the beginning of this message, our approach has been what we might call historical, in the sense that we have emphasized the historical development in distinction to the purely logical and systematic. In putting things within this frame, my interest has been, by way of reminder, to refresh you in the orientation of this pulpit. This orientation, endeavor, sets before us the event character of our faith, always proclaiming to us our relationship to what God has accomplished for us, principally in and through His Son, Jesus Christ. But having said this and emphasized it again, let me conclude this series with a brief and clear statement, I hope, of the logical and systematic orientation of this pulpit, namely as it devolves upon the five points of Calvinism.

    As you know, John Calvin did not originate the five points that bear his name. They were actually formulated by the Dutch Reformed Church about sixty years after his death as a response to the five points of Arminianism. These points have been affectionately remembered by the acronym TULIP: T-U-L-I-P. The T stands for total depravity, and it expresses the Calvinist doctrine of humanity.

    Here, the Calvinist affirms the scriptural teaching that human beings are born in sin. The Calvinist does not avoid this truth, as seen in David’s confession in Psalm 51: “In sin did my mother conceive me.” According to Scripture, sinners are therefore dead in relation to God and unable to do spiritual good. As the Apostle Paul writes, “We were dead in our transgressions and in our sins.” To paraphrase the Apostle Paul again, we are hostile toward God. We do not submit to God’s law, nor are we able to do so. Romans 8, verse 7.

    But if this is true, how can anyone be saved? If we are affected in every part of our being, and there is no part of our nature to which we can turn or appeal, how can we be saved if we are left with a total inability to do spiritual good? What hope remains for us?

    The answer to this question leads us to the U in the acronym, which stands for Unconditional Election, and it establishes our doctrine of God. If humanity is totally depraved and incapable of all spiritual good, then God Himself must save us. And if there is nothing in us naturally to distinguish one sinner from another, then God’s choice of any individual cannot be based on anything within us. If our salvation is not based on anything in us, it cannot be based on anything or anyone affecting us.

    It therefore must be eternal, belonging to God’s own sovereign disposition and choice, an unconditional election of sinners for salvation, for whom God foreloved He predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son. But if God loves and elects from all eternity those He is determined to save, that means that in the very act of salvation He sovereignly works on behalf of His elect and His elect only. Here we are brought to the L of TULIP, and the doctrine of the limited atonement, and the Calvinist doctrine of Christ, and the efficacy of His work.

    One of the notable aspects of the history of the Church is the way in which the Arminian tradition has appealed to the Gospel of John to support its theology. They believe they find evidence for their doctrine of the universal atonement in passages such as John 12:9 and in John the Baptist’s statement, “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” This statement, however, was not understood by those very people. The fact is that Jesus Himself testifies in this same gospel, the Gospel of John, when He says, “I lay down My life for My sheep,” John 10:15. And with equal force, Jesus says in His high priestly prayer, “You granted Me authority over all people, that I might give eternal life to all whom You have granted Me,” John 17:2. Truly, as the angel announced to Joseph before Jesus’ birth, “You shall call His name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins,” Matthew 1:21.

    But be assured, Christ’s death, as the Calvinist has taught, does not offer a universal opportunity for salvation, as the Arminian claims. Rather, it actually saves God’s elect. But now, Christ having died for His own, how are His own to be made partakers of His saving death?

    The Calvinist here introduces the doctrine of the Holy Spirit under the letter I, which stands for irresistible grace. That which is born of the flesh is flesh. That which is born of the Spirit is Spirit. So says Christ himself in John 3, verse 6. Ezekiel will prophesy over dead bones, and they, by the movement of the Spirit as in a mighty wind, will come to life. This is a powerful, divinely given picture of the irresistible workings of the Holy Spirit to make God’s people the beneficiaries of His saving activity. Jesus will call a dead Lazarus from the grave. Again, this is a powerful, divinely given picture of the irresistible efficacy of the Spirit’s ministry for God’s elect. Jesus emphatically states, “All whom the Father gives me, come to me.” John 6, verse 37.

    It is the Spirit who gives life and sovereignly applies it, the saving efficacy of salvation, to God’s elect and God’s elect alone. But if God’s intention is eternal and His election irrevocable, and if Christ’s death actually saves the elect and the Holy Spirit applies salvation to them, can the elect be lost?

    This brings us to the last letter, P, and the perseverance of the saints, the Calvinist doctrine of the Church. Christ has promised that the gates of hell, that is, the gates of death, shall not prevail against His Church. The Church, in her salvation, partakes of a continuing promise.

    But this is not simply a consideration that applies to the corporate body. It also applies to individuals who make up the Church. Christ’s prayers are effectual for Peter. I have prayed for you, Peter, that your faith may not fail. Although Peter, through great struggle, confirms his election and makes his calling and election sure in a hard-fought battle for perseverance. Jesus testifies elsewhere that He who comes to Him, He will in no wise cast out. Once more, John 6, 37. Jesus further promises to the same people that He will raise them up on the last day. John 6, 40.

    But it is when coming to the end that the Calvinist truly, in all the humility that his gospel demands, steps forward in the most fervent acclamation. For envisioning the saint’s perseverance and standing in the presence of God, the Calvinist at one and the same time is overwhelmed by the incomparable glory of God, and knows without any qualification or hesitation that it is only because of God, and God alone, that he has been brought to glory. In the day of God’s great appearance and the completion of all His purposes regarding this creation, each one of God’s children will confess the true doctrine in full and sweet harmony.

    Our Father, by Your mercy, You, even now, place us in a position where we can view the end of all things. And as we do, Lord, we are set before Your glory. And having been so set, we are never the same again. Truly, O God, we who confess this Reformed faith have, by Your mercy, been transformed even by a vision of Your glory, the magnificence of Your sovereignty, and the fact that in Your presence we cannot but acknowledge that our salvation is from You, completely and wholly. We ask now that You will bless us as Your children, encourage Your Reformed Church throughout the world, and it would please You to bless the Reformed faith so that Your name may be glorified and magnified by Your children who have perceived the end of the matter and see things clearly, see things in the light of the revelation You make of Yourself, yes, in Your Word, unto the end itself. Be pleased, Lord, to magnify Your name in our confession and help us to live obediently in keeping with the revelation You have given of Yourself. And, Father, may it please You also to give us hearts that readily embrace the doctrines of grace and cherish them for all that we are worth. We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

    The sermon text provided above is derived from the sermon audio recording making use of generative tools. It has not been manually edited. While transcription tools have a high degree of accuracy, the output may include generative textual, punctuation, and/or formatting errors.

  • The Covenant and the Inheritance

    The Covenant and the Inheritance

    This sermon is from the Rev. Charles G. Dennison sermon archive, part of the “By Way of Reminder” series, and was preached at Grace Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Sewickley, PA, during a worship service on Sunday, November 24, 1996.

    About this sermon

    The covenant runs through Scripture, from 1 Samuel 18 and John 13 to Hosea and Revelation, and the law exists to serve it. The covenant’s goal is our promised inheritance.

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    Sermon transcript

    Someday we will be able to sing that as well as we can sing Psalm 119. Tonight we are reading from the book of Leviticus, first of all, chapter 26. Leviticus chapter 26, beginning at verse 1. Give your attention to God’s Word. You shall not make for yourselves idols, nor shall you set up for yourselves an image or a sacred pillar. Nor shall you place a carved stone in your land to bow down to it, for I am the Lord your God. You shall keep my Sabbaths and reverence my sanctuary. I am the Lord.

    If you walk in my statutes and keep my commandments so as to carry them out, then I will give you rain in its season, so that the land will yield its produce and the trees of the field will bear their fruit. Indeed, your threshing will last until grape-gathering, and grape-gathering will last until sowing time. You will thus eat your food to the full and live securely in your land. I shall also grant peace to the land, so that you may lie down with no one making you tremble. I shall also eliminate harmful beasts from the land, and no sword will pass through your land. But you will chase your enemy, and they will fall before you by the sword. Five of you will chase a hundred, and a hundred of you will chase ten thousand, and your enemies will fall before you by the sword.

    So I will turn toward you and make you fruitful and multiply you, and I will confirm my covenant with you. You will eat the old supply and clear out the old because of the new. Moreover, I will make my dwelling among you, and my soul will not reject you. I will also walk among you and be your God, and you shall be my people. I am the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt so that you should not be their slaves, and I broke the bars of your yoke and made you walk.

    He read. Then, turning to the book of Revelation, Revelation 21, beginning at verse 1. And I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. And I saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is among them, and he shall dwell among them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be among them and be their God.

    And he shall wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there shall no longer be any death. There shall be no longer any mourning or crying or pain. The first things have passed away. And he who sits on the throne said, Behold, I am making all things new. And he said, These words are faithful and true. And he said to me, It is done.

    I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give to the one who thirsts from the spring of the water of life without cost. He who overcomes shall inherit these things, and I will be his God, and he will be my son. But for the cowardly and unbelieving and abominable and murderers and immoral persons and sorcerers and idolaters and all liars, their part will be in the lake that burns with fire and brimstone, which is the second death. Our Father, our hearts are revived as those who are refreshed in the rebirth that has come to us.

    As we hear news from the world, from your church, and from the outposts of your mission, Father, we are strengthened and refreshed as the word comes to us from Uganda. We thank you, O God, for this evidence of the work of your Spirit. So many have been baptized in a single day. Father, multiply your word in that place and in other places as well. Lord, even though we have not seen these people, may we greet them in the Spirit, rejoicing with them in the life that is now theirs in the Spirit. Help us, O God, in our praise of you, so that as we commit ourselves to prayer on behalf of others, we may prove ourselves servants of our God, serving those in need, and rejoicing, O God, as they are gladly supplied with the riches of salvation.

    Hear us now, Father, as we approach your word, that your word may have the proper effect in us. For we pray this through Christ, who is at your right hand and who intercedes on our behalf. I am taking this occasion, in our series entitled, by way of reminder, to speak to you this evening about the Covenant.

    It has been said that the doctrine of the Covenant belongs particularly to the Reformed faith. Not that others, such as Lutherans, Anglicans, or even Roman Catholics, have not spoken about the covenant in their presentations of faith. But it is the Reformed faith and the churches that trace their lineage most seriously from the Scriptures through Augustine to Calvin that have embraced the covenant as the central organizing principle of biblical understanding and as a continuing dynamic in Christian life. In other words, the Reformed faith and its churches have historically recognized the covenant as having a significance not generally acknowledged by others. So much is this the case that one branch of the Reformed faith has become known as the Covenanters. I mean only to say that it was natural for this development to occur within the context of the Reformed faith and its world, not necessarily that the Covenanters were entirely correct in claiming the term. But, of course, that has been one of our challenges within the Reformed faith—getting the covenant right. We, in the Reformed faith, have debated nearly every matter, including the covenant.

    The Covenanters, for instance, have tended to emphasize the covenant in support of their position on public covenanting, on oath-bound commitments concerning their corporate witness for the authority of King Jesus in the public sphere. The Dutch Reformed have tended to emphasize the covenant in support of the strong family unit. That family unit and its awareness were central in their communities. As evidence of this, among the Christian Reformed people and related groups, there has been a focus not so much on individual church membership, but on family membership.

    I still remember how surprised I was by the question from a Christian Reformed gentleman. He asked me, “How many families do you have in your church?” I did not know. And when I finally figured it out, I was embarrassed to tell him. At the time, that was the count.

    But not only do various Reformed communities have differing views on the covenant and its application, there are also ongoing debates within Reformed churches about the meaning of the covenant. This is especially true in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. You may not know it, but the OPC has been involved in a long-standing dispute over the covenant for nearly forty years. This has been the OPC’s forty-year debate. The debate has not always been open, but it does tend to resurface from time to time. The most intense period occurred about twenty years ago, when a professor at Westminster Seminary, Norman Shepard, began to express views on the covenant that ultimately led to his removal from the seminary faculty and his departure from the OPC.

    However, Professor Shepard and those who opposed him were merely representing positions that have long been in conflict within the Reformed tradition. In this century, these positions have come to rest in the theologies of two prominent Orthodox Presbyterians, John Murray and Meredith Klein. We cannot examine the full details of their positions in this setting. However, in brief, let me say this much.

    Murray’s view tends to minimize the covenant of works in order to emphasize God’s sovereign administration of grace. Klein’s view tends to emphasize the covenant of works in order to highlight God’s sovereign administration of Lordship. The question for Murray is whether Adam would have earned his reward if he had remained faithful during the probation in the garden. The question for Kline is whether, after the fall, the covenant of works continues to function and is clearly expressed in the law of Moses as preparation for the work of Christ. Murray’s position has tended to suggest that the works principle is never meritorious in Scripture. Klein’s position has tended to suggest that the works principle is always meritorious in Scripture.

    Practically speaking, therefore, Murray’s position has tended to promote a consistently positive view of the moral law in the life of the believer, while Klein’s position has tended to be more cautious and reserved. As a result, Murray has been labeled a legalist, and Klein has been labeled a dispensationalist. What I have just described is not a caricature, since each of these men, in his own way, has acknowledged some tension with the confession of faith, although each affirms himself to be a devoted adherent to the Reformed faith.

    But where does this leave the rest of us—those who are ordinary people and do not think at this level? Many of us were raised on the teachings of John Murray. If we did not know him personally, we became familiar with him through his writings, not necessarily through personal acquaintance, not through direct face-to-face interaction. We have come to love him through memory. I remember my first encounter with John Murray. I was a student at Geneva College.

    I read his book, rightly famous: Redemption Accomplished and Applied. I speak about his latter chapters in that book, for they remain especially convincing concerning the truths of the Reformed faith, and they have been genuinely a help to literally thousands. I do not know what the count is presently for the printings of that book, but I would judge that it is somewhere between thirty and fifty. This means that the book has been dispersed far and wide. It is still being sold by Eerdmans. It is still having great impact.

    Klein, on the other hand, is truly, and I underscore this, truly one of the great exegetical geniuses of our time. His book, Images of the Spirit, is without doubt the most compelling book of biblical exegesis produced for the Reformed world since Gerhardus Voss published his Pauline Eschatology in 1930.

    I stand before you tonight telling you, like most in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and most in the Reformed world, I am indebted to both of these men, to John Murray and to Meredith Klein. But I would not presume to correct them, since I hardly consider myself capable of doing that.

    However, I do have some time left, so I will raise a question. And that, in the light of the orientation of this pulpit over the years, and my present desire to remind you of what I have been preaching during the course of my ministry. My question is this.

    Do we best approach the covenant, first of all, in terms of the category of the law? I ask the question again. Do we best approach the covenant, first of all, in terms of the category of the law? There have been those in the Reformed faith, and there continue to be those in the Reformed faith, who have equated the covenant with the law. Covenant equals law. That is the meaning of the covenant. Now, I would never charge Murray or Klein with such a position. Still, has the law, both positively and negatively, functioned at the very heart of their notions of the covenant?

    Now, I ask these questions this evening with a tremendous sense of spiritual uneasiness and an appreciation of my own unworthiness. But my interest has been to direct us, during the course of my ministry, back to the seventh chapter in the Westminster Confession of Faith, and particularly the first paragraph of that seventh chapter. You may not have this memorized, so I will read it to you this evening. If you want to follow along, it is on page 676.

    The distance between God and the creature is so great that although reasonable creatures do owe obedience unto Him as their Creator, yet they could never have any fruition of Him as their blessedness and reward but by some voluntary condescension on God’s part, which He has been pleased to express by way of a covenant.

    It seems to me that the clear intention of this paragraph is meant to bring into view as primary, not the law, even as the law is inferred in the phrase, although reasonable creatures do owe obedience unto God as their Creator. Rather, it seems to me that the clear intention of this paragraph is meant to bring into view as primary the phrase, the voluntary condescension on God’s part. By which, now filling in the blanks, by which God enters into fellowship with His creatures so that they might have Him as their blessedness and as their reward.

    The covenant, therefore, is not, first of all, the law. It is, first of all, a communal bond—between persons, between God and His people. There are many proofs of this throughout the Scriptures. In the law itself, which we read tonight, God testifies to the essential character of the covenant when He says, “I will be your God, and you shall be My people.”

    That is Leviticus 26, verse 12. We are given images, are we not, pictures of the covenant throughout the Scriptures. In the Old Testament, we have the story of David and Jonathan, and that story provides us with such a picture. Do you remember 1 Samuel 18? There is hardly a passage like it in Scripture.

    That passage tells us that the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved David as himself. There is covenant in that communal bond. There is fellowship in that expression of the love that is at the center of the covenant. This story of Jonathan and David, of course, has typological significance, and I am sure you are aware of that. But we are not here merely speaking about Jonathan and David. We are speaking about true Israel and the Lord’s anointed.

    Do you see it? Does it strike you clearly? Jonathan, who is heir to the throne, the son of Saul, the one who will inherit all when Saul, his father, is gone, now has his soul knit to David. This one, Jonathan, becomes representative of true Israel, prepared and ready to sacrifice everything for the sake of the Lord’s true anointing. At the center of it is an eloquent sermon concerning the nature of the covenant. As Jonathan is bound to David, so too shall true Israel be bound to Christ. You can go on to the New Testament and find something similar here.

    There is a complement to this text found in the thirteenth chapter of John’s Gospel, where we are told about the relationship between Jesus, the Lord’s anointed indeed, and another John, John the disciple, John the beloved one. The picture of John is given to us: the beloved disciple reclining on Jesus’ breast, the bond that intimate, presenting us once more with the truth concerning the covenant and the communal bond that exists at its heart.

    Appropriately, then, throughout the Scriptures, the covenant is described in ways that bring this neutral, this covenantal bond, this communal bond, before us. For the covenant is compared to the marriage relationship. It is also compared to the family relationship. You need only think of the Prophet Hosea and how the covenant is featured in that prophecy and functions so powerfully, and that against the background of his own marriage and the threat that has come to that marriage. Then, at the conclusion of the Scriptures, the covenantal reality is presented as the consummation of the fellowship between God and his own, and that, of course, through the mediation of Jesus Christ himself.

    John, that beloved disciple, now runs, and I saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven, made ready as a bride for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and he shall dwell among them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them and be their God.” There is much more that I could add to this, moving through the entirety of Scripture. But let me add this one further feature.

    There is a consistent theme running through Scripture, both Old and New Testaments, concerning inheritance. Yes, we know, as has already been stated, that God makes clear: “I will be your God, and you shall be my people.” But consider this and reflect on the implications, especially as you connect it to the concept of inheritance—the theme of inheritance that runs throughout Scripture. God has chosen His people to be a treasured possession to Himself. They are His inheritance, and God Himself has become an inheritance to them. They have Him, and He has them. This is the covenant.

    What I have said to you this evening, if I must go back a little, is not meant in any way to diminish the importance of the law of God. To paraphrase the Apostle Paul: “We do not nullify the law, on the contrary, we establish the law.” In other words, the law—both positively and negatively—always serves the communal bond that the covenant is, the relationship that the covenant is. But the law can never be the substance of that bond or equated with it. To present this more clearly, let me conclude with an illustration I often use. After all, this is a message entitled, by way of reminder, and if I repeat myself, you will understand.

    Men, what if your wife asks you, “Honey, do you love me?” You are in serious trouble if you respond by pulling out the legal code for the state of Pennsylvania and showing her its statutes concerning marriage. You are in serious trouble if you hand her your marriage license. The statutes serve the marriage. They are not the reality of the marriage. The law of God, the commandments, the statutes, and the ordinances serve His covenantal communal bond with His people. They are not the reality of that covenantal communal bond.

    I hope this is instructive to you, especially as you anticipate the conclusion of the communal bond, which we enjoy provisionally now, but in the end we shall enjoy your law and your commandments, your ordinances and your statutes. May we be blessed by them. May we be encouraged by them. May they have their full work in us. Even as they help us to see more clearly that you are in covenant with us, and that by your sovereign activity, by your disposition and decision.

    How we rejoice, O God, in this communal bond that is ours with you. In it, O God, we must acknowledge our unworthiness, for surely you have come and you have blessed us, and that even while we were yet in our sin, that we might be redeemed for you, a treasure of people, that we might become your inheritance, even as you are ours. Bless us now, O God, that we might delight in this covenantal bond that is ours in and through Jesus Christ, the very one who comes stating it clearly, putting it in front of us, welcoming us into it, and yet fulfilling all of its terms, that we might have, O God, the blessed fruition of you as our

    The sermon text provided above is derived from the sermon audio recording making use of generative tools. It has not been manually edited. While transcription tools have a high degree of accuracy, the output may include generative textual, punctuation, and/or formatting errors.

  • The Two Levels of John’s Gospel

    The Two Levels of John’s Gospel

    This sermon is from the Rev. Charles G. Dennison sermon archive, part of the “By Way of Reminder” series, and was preached at Grace Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Sewickley, PA, during a worship service on Sunday, October 27, 1996.

    About this sermon

    John’s Gospel gets set apart from the Synoptics and Paul here, especially John’s use of double-meaning language operating on two levels at once. That technique is precisely how John distinguishes merely worldly faith from true, other-worldly faith, all while preserving the underlying unity of Scripture.

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    Sermon transcript

    We begin our scripture reading this evening in John’s Gospel, chapter two, verse twenty-three. This is John chapter two, verse twenty-three. Give your attention to God’s holy word. Now, when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover, during the feast, many believed in his name, because they saw the signs he was doing. But Jesus, on his part, was not entrusting himself to them, for he knew all people. And because he did not need anyone to bear witness concerning people, for he himself knew what was in each person. Now there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews. This man came to him by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you have come from God as a teacher, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.”

    Jesus answered and said to him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.” Then, turning to John chapter twenty, beginning at verse nineteen.

    When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and when the doors were shut where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples therefore rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus therefore said to them again, “Peace be with you.”

    As the Father has sent me, I also send you. And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

    But Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples therefore said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see in his hands the imprint of the nails, and put my finger into the place of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” And after eight days again his disciples were inside, and Thomas with them. Jesus came, the doors having been shut, and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Reach here your finger and see my hands, and reach here your hand and put it into my side, and be not unbelieving, but believing.” Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God.”

    Jesus said to him, “Because you have seen me, have you believed? Blessed are they who did not see, and yet believed.” Many other signs, therefore, Jesus also performed in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book. But these have been written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing, you may have life in his name.

    Pray with me. Our Father. May this day be a refreshment for us, and stand for us as a foundation for our week. Lord, in it. May we delight in the rest that Jesus Christ has procured for us through his sacrifice. And in it, O God, may we perceive the conclusion of all matters related to this world, even as in this day we perceive the last day and all that it brings. Truly, the Lord’s day is that day in which we can see the day of the Lord. Now, Father, as we have asked for your refreshment and have delighted in the grace that you have poured out upon us, may we receive from your word your blessing, even as we give our hearts to it.

    We pray this through Christ, who is himself the living Word. This is our sixth message in the series, offered as a reminder. In this series, I have been endeavoring to strengthen you in your appreciation of the orientation of this pulpit. I make no apologies. This is a Protestant pulpit, whose message about the gracious justification by God of unworthy, powerless sinners is grounded in the finality and the sufficiency of Jesus Christ’s saving work. Even as we are blessed by that work, we await his consummate appearance at the end of all things.

    Now, while in many ways this pulpit takes its cue from Paul’s powerful presentation of the gospel, it has also been my concern, as a reminder, to demonstrate that the Gospels which we have in our Bibles convey no different message. We have reviewed, in a previous message, Jesus’ own proclamation—the proclamation of the Kingdom—centered on his declaration of the Good News. Particularly, we have considered this proclamation as it appears in the so-called Synoptic Gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke. These Gospels emphasize Jesus’ declaration that the Kingdom has arrived in him and with him. This focus directs our appreciation and appropriation of the good news of the gospel itself: that the Kingdom has arrived in him and with him, and is already present among us, even as we await its consummate appearance at Christ’s return. This message, though it may sound somewhat different, is actually identical to the one that the Apostle Paul develops from Jesus’ accomplished death, resurrection, and ascension. Therefore, we conclude, in keeping with the consistent message of this pulpit, Paul and Jesus agree. Their gospel is one. But there remains for us yet another gospel among the biblical four—the orphan gospel, the uncommon gospel: John’s gospel. What do we do with John’s gospel, given its uniqueness among the four?

    It is not as if I have not spoken about this theme before. Therefore, as a reminder, let us review the matter. Some biblical books present real challenges when it comes to identifying their purpose statements. For example, consider the book of Hebrews. If you have recently read through that book, you may well have in mind what I am referring to. It is not an easy task to isolate the purpose statement in that book.

    However, when we come to the Gospel of John, the matter is clear, indeed obvious. John is direct. He is direct with us about this matter, as he is about many others. His purpose statement is found at the end of chapter 20, verses 30 and 31. John writes these words: “Many other signs, therefore, Jesus also performed in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name.”

    Now, I have said that John is direct and clear in stating his purpose, but at the same time, this direct and clear statement has created its own confusion and has been obscured by its own complexity. There are those, for instance, who tend to view this statement as clear evidence that John’s gospel is intended for an unbelieving audience, and for that audience exclusively. They believe that John’s gospel is primarily focused on an evangelistic appeal, an appeal by which hearers will come to faith for the first time. According to this interpretation of John and the conclusion of John 20, John’s gospel is, in the end, an extensive gospel tract directed toward the unbelieving world and not toward the Church. The confusion and obscurity are obvious, are they not? For there are others who, in light of multiple considerations throughout the text of this gospel, have sensed that such a reading is too superficial, and that John’s purpose cannot be fully understood by considering its audience as simply and solely the unbelieving world.

    In fact, so say these voices. The audience, in the first and primary place, must be the Church. This gospel must be directed to the Church, as its ministry and its life are mapped out in Christ’s own ministry and in His own life. Some obvious examples of this are found in this twentieth chapter, which we have read this evening, as well as in the chapter that follows, chapter twenty-one. Is it not clear that the Church is clearly front and center as the resurrection appearances in this chapter lay out the pattern for the Church’s observance of the new Christian Sabbath, the first day of the week? Jesus meeting with Mary in the morning, and then meeting with the disciples in the evening, sets before us the pattern of Christian observance as it has been in place in the Church from the very beginning. The Church has met in the morning on the first day of the week, and it has also concluded its day with services of worship in the evening.

    And is it not clear that the Church is front and center as Jesus explains to His disciples that His action of breathing on them, as indication of the gift of the Holy Spirit, is to the end of the proper administration of Church discipline. Verse 23: “If you forgive the sins of any, their sins have been forgiven them. If you retain the sins of any, they have been retained.”

    And is it not clear that the life and ministry of the Church is in view as the risen Christ in the next chapter, chapter twenty-one, confronts Peter with the threefold exhortation to love and care for His sheep. To be sure, the call to saving faith is directed to a skeptical and even unbelieving population, and that call is heard, yes, even here in the Gospel of John, and may well rise from within this context that is before us, namely the story of Thomas’ unbelief. But even here the message cannot be disengaged from the Church, which takes up the message of the risen Christ as it directs its attention to an unbelieving world.

    If then we have established the fact that John 20, 30 and 31 must not be read as a simple evangelistic appeal, in what sense is it to be read as a word concerning the Church? In what sense can John be calling the Church to faith? After all, does the Church not already believe? Is it not already in possession of the very life of which John speaks at the conclusion of this chapter?

    To answer these questions, it is important to remember an all-important feature of John’s gospel. I ask you now, by way of reminder, to keep before you this truth. John’s gospel moves at two levels. It consistently keeps before us two realities—the world above and the realm of this creation. According to the Gospel of John, the coming of Jesus Christ means a definitive intersection of those realities.

    In other words, while living in this world, we can, by God’s call and grace, arrive in another higher reality simultaneously. While living in this world, we can, by God’s call and grace, be alive to another higher reality and actually be participants in the life of that higher reality. While we await the consummation of this world, while we await the last day, we are told that we are already participants in a higher order.

    Jesus makes this clear, does he not, to the confused and resistant Nicodemus, when he tells him that he must be born again. That is, this Nicodemus, this Pharisee, this ruler of the Jews, must be born from above, from that other reality. You see, the problem for Nicodemus, even as a Jew, even as one well schooled in the law, is that he imagines what life there must be generated from this world. Jesus refutes him and contradicts him. He tells him he must be born from above, he must be born from that other reality.

    And later in this very context, the third chapter of John, Jesus leads the church in the confession of what this means when He declares that whosoever believes in Him has already eternal life. You are already a participant in eternal life and blessed by its reality. Even while you continue to live here, you are in contact with the eternal order, the eternal world above. Keeping in mind the two worlds, keeping in mind the two levels, it would seem, from what Jesus says in this third chapter, that there is life, and then there is life. There is life in this world, and then there is life, which is something else altogether—life that belongs to a completely different order of existence. And how regularly and consistently this point is made throughout John’s Gospel.

    In John chapter 4, a story that you know very well, the story of a woman at the well, Jesus engages this woman in a discussion about water. The woman thinks Jesus is speaking about water, such as would come from the well. In fact, He is speaking about spiritual water from heaven. There is water, and there is water.

    You see, there are two orders, and the intention of the Gospel of John is to impress that upon your consciousness. Yes, even you who are in the Church, even you who believe and have made confession, lest you forget it. This is precisely the discipline that comes to you out of this gospel. You, like the woman, want to rush back to the water from the well. Jesus says, I have better water for you, and you must drink of it.

    What might we say, then, of John chapter 6? You know the story. It is John’s account of the feeding of the five thousand. But here, Jesus chides the crowd that follows after Him, because He perceives in them that they have a hunger for bread that belongs to this world, bread for their stomachs, while He presents Himself as another sort of bread altogether, a bread belonging to another world.

    Again, there is bread, and then there is bread. So it is in the case of faith. Do I need to repeat this point once more? So it is in the case of faith. Do you understand? Do you see it? There is faith, and then there is faith. There is a worldly faith, and there is also an other-worldly faith.

    The tension between these two faiths is what creates the opportunity for John’s Gospel and provides the content for John 20, verses 30 and 31. So that we can see that those verses, which sound as if they are addressed to an unbelieving audience, are specifically addressed to a struggling Church. To a struggling Church. You see, as much as John’s Gospel is in fact a challenge to the world’s unbelief, it is specifically a challenge to a Church that is losing its grip on the true faith that flows from that other world. A Church that is in danger of beginning to live out of a false faith that belongs to this world. This tension is not fully explained by a single statement, but also the fact that John, through the course of his Gospel, gives us a number of illustrations in which he contrasts one faith with another.

    Let me give you three illustrations. First of all, from the text that we read this evening. John 2, verses 23 through 25. Note what is said. Verse 23 tells us that many believed in Jesus. They had a faith. It says they believed in Him. Verse 24, however, tells us that their faith was not true faith. Because Jesus refused to entrust himself to these so-called believers. But what was wrong with their faith? If it is not true faith, what was wrong with this faith? John tells us in verse 23 that such faith as they had was bound up in seeing the signs performed by Jesus.

    It was attached to the external. Do you wonder at the plain style of our worship and of our religion? Do I need to remind you again about the character of a Protestant pulpit and a Protestant worship? Why? Because of the bareness of your surroundings this evening. We dare not tempt you with externals, whether the externals of adornment or the externals of signs and wonders that are so prominent in the Church and its ministry today.

    When faith becomes attached to these things, it is an inferior faith, and if left in that state, it becomes a false faith. I plead with you on this matter. I do not have to spell all of this out for you. I do not have to fill in all the blanks. I do not have to make this a diatribe against certain forms of worship or certain forms of Christianity. I leave you to think it through in light of what you are being told in this text.

    Here is a faith that is dependent upon externals, upon what you see. We live by faith, not by sight. These live by sight, not by faith. That is the truth of it. True faith then perceives things unseen. True faith perceives an unseen world and rests upon it, because that is the order of faith and of the Spirit. There is faith, and then again, there is faith. Secondly, we have John 12, verses 42 and 43.

    Here we are told that many rulers from among the Jews believed in Jesus. That is what the text says. They believed in Jesus. We find that at the beginning of verse 42, but then John goes on to tell us that because of fear, because of these individuals’ love of human approval, they were not confessing Jesus Christ. True faith is bold and confident in the certainties of the heavenly world.

    What can they take from us? What are we in danger of losing? Even if they take my life in this world, my life in the world to come is secure because of Jesus Christ. Even if I must stand alone, as it appears, just as Martin Luther stood alone and J. Gresham Machen stood alone, I am not alone. True faith is bold in light of the certainties of that other world. They cannot take from me my life.

    False faith calculates costs, measuring what I would lose in terms of my place, my position, and my reputation in this world. It hesitates in its commitment. There is faith, and then there is faith. Finally, we have John chapter 20, verses 8 through 10. John 20, verses 8 through 10. Here we have one of the most challenging passages in all of Scripture. It is deeply puzzling. It is compellingly confusing. It calls for understanding. So, look at it once more.

    For faith here is related to the beloved disciple, to John himself, the writer of this gospel. This testimony shows that this man is not without his faults, that this one also is in need of a Savior. Faith is related to John, and specifically to his entrance into the empty tomb, in verse 8. See how the verse concludes. It tells us that he believed, that he had faith. But then we are told in the very next verse, in the most mysterious way, that neither John nor Peter, who was with him, understood what they were seeing. Thus, in verse 10, they both go home. As if nothing had happened. There is a faith that seems to be deeply connected to the details of the gospel and its reality, as was John’s acquaintance, who looked directly at the cross and at the crucifixion, and then went home without understanding and without being moved.

    But there is also a faith that, in contemplating the redemptive events of Christ’s death and resurrection, is deeply moved by their profound significance—namely, the gift of life from the heavenly realm to which Jesus has gone, into which he ascends. Just as he tells Mary in the story that follows: “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to my Father.” This is verse 17 of the twentieth chapter. So then, John writes his gospel. He writes it to warn the Church against a worldly and false faith, a faith weakened by reliance on external things, dependent on sight, dependent on signs and wonders, a faith weakened by fear of people and desire for their approval, a faith weakened by failure to understand the true purpose of God’s saving work in Christ’s death and resurrection.

    There is, however, a true faith that recognizes, through Christ’s saving person and work, the reality of participation in the divine realm, which has already been given to those who believe, even while they live in this world. And by their connection with that other realm, the heavenly realm, and with the spiritual realities it contains, they endure in this world until God is pleased to raise them up in their bodies on the last day. Although expressed in different words, this message which we hear from John in his Gospel is precisely the message that we heard from the Apostle Paul, and it is precisely the message that Jesus declared in the synoptic accounts, the accounts of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. So then, the Jesus of the four Gospels agrees with the Jesus presented to us in the Apostle Paul. Our Gospel is one. Our Bible is in harmony. This is the commitment of this pulpit.

    And I thought it well to remind you of that. Our God, may we step back and wonder before Your person and before Your word. May we gladly acknowledge that the various parts of Your word hang together marvelously. Even though diverse and sounding different in various places, there is a coalescence. How wonderful and beautiful is this harmony. We thank You, our God, that we have this consistent witness, and that we are beckoned to a full appreciation of the consistency of this witness, even through the diversity found in the Scriptures. May we live, Lord, in the unity and the diversity of Your word.

    For the good of our souls and for a better understanding of the full breadth and riches that are ours in our Savior. Now, mercifully lead us. Even as we are warned by the Gospel of John: “These things are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name.” Blessing us, O God, with a strength born of Your Spirit to live from that world even as we find ourselves in this one.

    The sermon text provided above is derived from the sermon audio recording making use of generative tools. It has not been manually edited. While transcription tools have a high degree of accuracy, the output may include generative textual, punctuation, and/or formatting errors.

  • Christ the Second Adam

    Christ the Second Adam

    This sermon is from the Rev. Charles G. Dennison sermon archive, part of the “By Way of Reminder” series, and was preached at Grace Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Sewickley, PA, during a worship service on Sunday, September 15, 1996.

    About this sermon

    In 1 Corinthians 15:44-45 Christ, the second Adam, gains a spiritual life in a spiritual world on our behalf. The classic fourfold estate of man frames that gain, and Calvin’s heavenly-mindedness models ours.

    More sermons from 1 Corinthians · Browse all sermons

    Sermon transcript

    Tonight we are reading from 1 Corinthians 15. We will begin our reading at verse 35. Give your attention to God’s infallible word. But someone will say, “How are the dead raised? And with what kind of body do they come?” You fool! That which you sow does not come to life unless it dies. And that which you sow, you do not sow the body which is to be, but a bare grain, perhaps of wheat or of something else. But God gives it a body just as He wished, and to each of the seeds a body of its own.

    All flesh is not the same flesh, but there is one flesh of men, and another flesh of beasts, and another flesh of birds, and another of fish. There are also heavenly bodies and earthly bodies, but the glory of the heavenly is one, and the glory of the earthly is another. There is one glory of the sun, another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars. For star differs from star in glory.

    So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown a perishable body, it is raised an imperishable body. It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness, it is raised in power. It is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.

    If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. So also it is written, “The first man, Adam, became a living soul.” The last Adam became a life-giving spirit. However, the spiritual is not first, but the natural, then the spiritual. The first man is from the earth, earthly. The second man is from heaven. As is the earthly, so also are those who are earthly, and as is the heavenly, so also are those who are heavenly. And just as we have borne the image of the earthly, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly.

    Now I say this, brothers and sisters, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Behold, I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed in a moment, at the sound of the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed.

    For this perishable must put on the imperishable, and this mortal must put on immortality. But when this perishable has put on the imperishable, and this mortal has put on immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: Death is swallowed up in victory. O Death, where is your victory? O Death, where is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

    Therefore, my beloved brothers and sisters, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord. Our Father, even after the pattern established in and by You, we rise to labor and we lift our hands to work.

    And Lord, we are asking, even in the light of the coming glory of heaven and the promise of eternal life, that we would give ourselves completely and wholly to our tasks. Father, refresh us, not with natural strength, but with the very strength of the risen Christ, that we might be about the work you have entrusted to us and the vocations to which we have been called. Lord, may we labor energetically, being diligent, working as unto you. Father, may those who are called to service in your church give themselves completely to their tasks in the power of Christ. And may those of us who have labors in this world be strengthened by you, our God, with the power of Christ, to perform them well. Our God, save us from sloth, deliver us from laziness, and Father, may you yourself be our escape from apathy. This we pray, even through Christ, who gave himself completely to his calling, that we might be saved.

    Amen. Tonight I want to take you one step further in this journey, which is intended to reinforce the perspective I have endeavored to declare from this pulpit over the years of my service and ministry here. In order to take that step this evening, I want to take you to 1 Corinthians 15, and to a passage that requires careful attention from us. I draw your attention to the latter part of verse 44. As it reads in the King James Version, there is a natural body and there is a spiritual body. Or as the New American Standard Version has it, if there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.

    Paul, in keeping with that latter interpretation or rendering, which is more accurate to the Greek, suggests that the one, which he has mentioned in the previous part of the verse, entails the other. The natural body entails the spiritual body, meaning that the natural body demands the spiritual body, and that the two are inseparably linked. In other words, Paul envisions a progression from the one to the other, one that is conceived of here as inevitable.

    Now, in making this assertion, Paul openly operates from the vantage point of his faith, a faith which has made clear to him the purposes and intentions of God, a faith which embraces Jesus as the promised Christ raised from the dead. Jesus Christ himself, in his resurrection, is the proof of what he has just stated in this text. So it is in verse 45 of this chapter that Paul goes on to quote Genesis chapter 2, verse 7. “The first man was made a living soul,” so goes the quote. The apostle means this statement to correspond to the natural body that he has just mentioned in verse 44.

    He then goes on, however, to complete his thought by speaking about a further Adam, the last Adam, who was made, according to the King James Version, or who became, according to the New American Standard Version, a life-giving spirit. I say life-giving spirit, deleting the article there intentionally. I also say life-giving spirit, meaning by that the capitalization of the word spirit, bringing into view the person of the Holy Spirit. Now, admittedly, what Paul has to say at this point is not easy to understand in every regard.

    We may well recognize immediately, for instance, that the last Adam, of whom Paul speaks, is the Lord Jesus Christ himself. But what can the Apostle mean when he says that Jesus Christ, as the last Adam, became a life-giving spirit? This verse speaks as if a change has occurred in Christ himself, as if Christ, the Eternal One, has been subjected to change. But if Christ is eternally God, eternally the Son of God, one in union with the Father and with the Spirit, how then is Paul able to speak of him as undergoing a change? And further, if the Son and the Spirit are actually distinct persons of the Trinity, how then can Paul speak of Christ as if Christ has become the Spirit?

    Setting these difficulties aside for the moment, we must be certain of this point. Paul intends the phrase about the last Adam in verse 45 to correspond to his statement at the end of verse 44, the statement about the spiritual body. In other words, Paul, now bold because of what God has done in Christ by raising him from the dead, declares with infallible certainty that there is a natural body and there is a spiritual body, and that the one follows the other according to a certain divine inevitability. If there is the one, then there is the other. Paul’s point is this.

    The last Adam has made clear and certain the nature and the meaning of the first Adam. The last Adam has made clear and certain the nature and the meaning of the first Adam. The first Adam, in having been made a living creature by the breath of God, was constituted a natural body. However, the first Adam, in his created state and in his natural body, was intended from the beginning for something else, something more, something higher.

    What Adam, in his natural body, was intended for, according to the argument of the Apostle Paul, was the spiritual body—moving from the natural to the spiritual. Adam, in keeping with the revelation in the early chapters of Genesis, was meant to move through the probation set before him with respect to the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. He was meant to move through that probation from the natural body existence to the spiritual body existence.

    That was symbolized by the tree of life. Indeed, as Paul says in verse 46, the spiritual is not first, but rather the natural, and then the spiritual. The matter of Christ’s resurrection is the central point at issue. The matter of Christ’s resurrection is the major focus of this chapter, because according to the Apostle Paul, that resurrection is what accomplishes what God intended in the first place for Adam and his posterity.

    Adam, by his fall, fails to achieve the spiritual body. Adam, because of his sin, fails to achieve the spiritual body. He fails to be brought into that spiritual body and the world to which that body belongs. Therefore, Jesus Christ, as the last Adam, gains what Adam forfeited. He gains what Adam failed to gain.

    This means that the spiritual body is what is given to Christ in his resurrection. And for Christ to become a life-giving spirit describes the reality of what Christ has become and that world into which he has entered by way of the resurrection. It is a world from which he now dispenses life as the head of a new humanity. 1 Corinthians 15, verse 45, is therefore no evidence that Paul never professed a Trinitarian faith. Instead, it is evidence of a magnificent and full grasp of God’s saving work in Jesus Christ, effected in and through the resurrection of our Savior. The focus is not Christ’s divinity, but his humanity and his thorough identification with those for whom he gives his life.

    He actually takes upon himself their life, for he, like them, is found in a natural body, a body which now, due to Adam’s fall, is subject to sin’s ravaging effects and to the decaying effects of death, or as it is spoken of here, corruption. But Jesus, our Savior, having been in the natural body, is raised from the dead, and as the last Adam gains in resurrection the blessed reward meant for humanity from the beginning, namely spiritual life in a spiritual body in a spiritual world. Spiritual life in a spiritual body in a spiritual world. This is, according to the Apostle Paul, what has always been the divine aim for humanity.

    This is confirmed further by this text through a couple of additional considerations. First of all, there is a double movement in verse 45 that Paul subtly emphasizes. As we have already noticed, there is the movement from the created Adam to the resurrected Christ, or from the first Adam to the last, or from the natural body to the spiritual body of the risen Savior. But there is also the movement not just between these two figures and two states, but within them.

    You see, even in Adam’s creation, there is a forecast of that which is preached by the Apostle Paul here, as he reflects on Genesis 2:7. Adam moves from dust formed by God to becoming a living soul, in-breathed by God Himself, in-breathed by the Spirit, if you will. The movement in Adam’s creation anticipates the spiritual state to which he is destined. Just as he is moved from dust to a living body, he is to move from a living body, that is, a natural body, to a spiritual body. The pattern of what is to be effected in Christ is forecast in Adam’s creation.

    That which is accomplished in re-creation is anticipated in original creation. In confirmation, the last Adam—moving on to consideration of Christ himself—does not only contrast with the first Adam and stand over against him, but also differs from what he was formerly, by virtue of taking to himself a true body like ours. This means that the force of Paul’s argument is doubly powerful, driving home his point all the more. However, another point Paul is making here is this: the movement from the natural to the spiritual is independent of sin. Sin hinders and cuts off access to the spiritual, and effectively destroys any hope that a person, in and of himself, could achieve that goal.

    But Paul’s quotation of Genesis 2:7 speaks of the first Adam before the fall. Paul’s statement about the natural first and then the spiritual in verse 46 establishes the fact that the order and progress of things as outlined by him here always was the order and the plan of God, and that this is independent of sin. This means that the spiritual body and the world to which it belongs are not the consequence of sin, nor were they made necessary because this world was ruined by the Fall. The spiritual body and the world to which it belongs were always the goal which God had in mind for humanity. This world and man’s natural body were never intended, even from the beginning, as humanity’s ultimate goal.

    It is precisely here that much theology, and even much Reformed theology, has become profoundly confused. I say profoundly confused. Originally, Reformed theology taught adamantly and very clearly the Reformed doctrine of the fourfold estate of man. The Westminster Confession of Faith, for instance, was solidly committed to the doctrine of the fourfold estate of man. This doctrine views man in his successive states: first, in innocency before the fall; then, in sin after the fall; then, in redemption because of Christ; and finally, in glory and in heaven. The tendency has now become, even among Reformed thinkers and preachers, to compress the fourfold estate of man into the threefold estate of man, a position in which the third and fourth estates are blended into one, in which redemption and glory are merged and indistinguishable.

    This is done in the interest of making man’s redemption merely a function of this world, merely an extension of what takes place in and to this world, so that what is achieved by redemption is merely the restoration of the created order, which eventually expresses itself in a perfected, this-world order and arrangement. This is perpetually and eternally. We are playing, despite our protestations of orthodoxy, with secularism. The Reformed Church is positioning itself for its own fall. And that is because it has developed a love affair with nature.

    This position that merges the third and fourth estates—redemption and glory—goes on to suggest that heaven, the vocabulary of heaven in Scripture, and the vocabulary of glory, are simply the Bible’s way of speaking about a perfected, this-world order and arrangement of things.

    Paul tells us that the second Adam is the Lord from heaven, verse 47, who stands over against the first Adam, not because of sin, but because of the resurrection. He stands over against the first Adam, who by his created nature is earthly, while the last Adam is heavenly. He goes on to tell us that the earthly is earthly and the heavenly is heavenly, verse 48, and that while we are earthly, we shall become heavenly in our own resurrection as we are conformed to the image of our Savior, verse 49. This is brought about by the Lord from heaven and the resurrection power resident in him. Yes, we shall be raised in our bodies, even as Christ was raised in his. But such is the radical nature of this transition for us, such is the radical nature of putting on the spiritual body and the heavenly world of the Spirit to which that body is suited, that Paul states his case in the most disjunctive manner, as if the one state is mutually exclusive of the other.

    Indeed, as he says in verse 50, flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God. Now, we all believe in the resurrection of the body. Paul believes in the resurrection of the body. This is a chapter defending the resurrection of the body. But in verse 50 of this chapter, Paul says that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God.

    Why would he make such a statement? He makes this statement so that you will pause and understand what he is saying. Yes, there is continuity as you move from one world to the other, but there is also radical discontinuity. Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God. Verse 50. That world of the Spirit, that heavenly order into which we, in our glorious spiritual bodies, shall be brought. Here is the plan and purpose of God for his elect. Here is their joy and their hope.

    Now I want to test you to see whether you are true Calvinists. Did Calvin love heaven? I challenge anyone to prove that he did not. And if the advocates of the spinning earth who are currently in the Reformed Church still claim to be Calvinists, I challenge them to reread the third book of Calvin’s Institutes, where they will find that the man they claim as their champion was not the advocate of the spinning earth, but of the eternal heavens. In fact, I will go so far as to say: remove heaven from Calvin’s theology, and you have no Calvinism as Calvin preached and taught it. Period. Exclamation point. End of message. Amen.

    Our Father, may we not be afraid of charges of Platonism or of world flight, or of being so heavenly-minded that we are of no earthly good. Instead, O God, may we stand firm in the proclamation of the Apostle Paul, not so that we might twist it to support our own preferred theology, but so that we might truly hear the inspired servant of God.

    Oh Lord, we would plead with you for ourselves and for your church. That we would love your word, and that we would receive the fullness of that revelation which is set before us. Even in keeping with the plan and purpose which you intended for your people, even from the beginning. Namely, that we were destined.

    For spiritual bodies in a spiritual world. And Lord, we would capitalize the S at the beginning of spiritual, meaning bodies appropriate to the Holy Spirit in a world in which the Holy Spirit reigns and rules. We plead with you, O God, that you will bless us even as we give ourselves to labors that are appropriate to us in this world, that we would not despise those labors, those responsibilities, the demands, and even the ethical challenges that are brought to bear upon us because of our place in this world. Instead, O God, with the light of heaven shining in us, even the glory of our hope, even the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the spiritual body and the spiritual world, the Holy Spirit himself, may we give ourselves to our labors in ways that please you, thus being transformed from a dark place to the glory of your name. We ask these things, looking unto you through Christ, who is risen in his spiritual body, who has gone into that spiritual world, who intercedes at your right hand.

    The sermon text provided above is derived from the sermon audio recording making use of generative tools. It has not been manually edited. While transcription tools have a high degree of accuracy, the output may include generative textual, punctuation, and/or formatting errors.

  • The Gospel as Event: Historia and Ordo Salutis

    The Gospel as Event: Historia and Ordo Salutis

    This sermon is from the Rev. Charles G. Dennison sermon archive, part of the “By Way of Reminder” series, and was preached at Grace Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Sewickley, PA, during a worship service on Sunday, September 1, 1996.

    About this sermon

    The historia salutis (the history of redemption) differs from the ordo salutis (the order of an individual’s salvation), and Christ’s story matters more than ours. At bottom the gospel is an event, God’s gift of his own righteousness, given to us in history.

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    Sermon transcript

    So, here we go, Romans chapter 1, and we begin at verse 8. First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for you all, because your faith is being proclaimed throughout the whole world. For God, whom I serve in my spirit in the preaching of the gospel of his Son, is my witness as to how unceasingly I make mention of you, always in my prayers making requests, if perhaps now at last, by the will of God, I may succeed in coming to you.

    For I long to see you in order that I may impart some spiritual gift to you, that you may be established. That is, that I may be encouraged together with you while among you, each of us by the other’s faith, both yours and mine. I do not want you to be unaware, brothers, that often I have planned to come to you and have been prevented thus far, in order that I might obtain some fruit among you also, even as among the rest of the Gentiles. I am under obligation both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish. Thus, for my part, I am eager to preach the gospel to you also who are in Rome. For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.

    For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith, as it is written: “The righteous person shall live by faith.” Then turning to chapter 3, beginning in verse 21, “But now, apart from the law, the righteousness of God has been manifested, being witnessed by the law and the prophets. Even the righteousness of God, through faith in Jesus Christ, for all who believe, for there is no distinction, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, being justified as a gift by His grace through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus, whom God displayed publicly as a propitiation in His blood through faith. This was to demonstrate His righteousness, because in the forbearance of God He passed over the sins previously committed. For the demonstration, I say, of His righteousness at the present time, that He might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.”

    Where then is boasting? It is excluded. By what kind of law? Of works? No, but by the law of faith. For we maintain that a person is justified by faith apart from the works of the law. For is God the God of Jews only? Is He not the God of Gentiles also? Yes, of Gentiles also, if indeed God is one. For He will justify the circumcised by faith and the uncircumcised through faith. Do we then nullify the law through faith? May it never be. On the contrary, we establish the law. Surely there is for us this abiding testimony that we live in the not yet. O God, we thank You for the already of our eternal redemption and the wonderful, marvelous blessings that appear to us according to Your revelation in Jesus Christ.

    But we struggle, Lord, do we not, even in our not yet condition and situation? It is in light of that, Lord, that we realize contentions arise, difficulties come, struggles, and even battles within congregations. And we plead with You for the peace of Your kingdom among Your people and within congregations dear to us. To this end, Lord, tonight we pray for the congregation in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, that this church would have Your peace in full, and that there would be some means for reconciliation within it, so that the reputation of this church is not harmed, nor the reputation of Your servant, John Petterson, who labors there. We pray, our Lord, in faith, asking that You would bring good resolution to the problems that have arisen. And here, Lord, we ask for ourselves that if there is contention or strife, we would see it quieted even by the ministry of Your Spirit in our midst. We ask this, O God, that You may be glorified in us, even as You are pleased to be glorified by us. We ask this truly through Christ, the One who is our peace. Amen. We have been speaking lately on this theme by way of reminders. These messages we have been reminding ourselves about the orientation of this purpose and the ministry of this church.

    In this, we have been taking our cue from the Reformation and its recovery of the biblical gospel of salvation by grace through faith in Jesus Christ, and particularly the way in which that gospel comes to expression as the Apostle Paul declares it to the Church and teaches that Church the significance of Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection.

    We have therefore commented upon the crucial issue in the Reformational recovery of the Gospel, namely, the finality of what God has done in Christ. The finality of what God has done in Christ. You see, it is that finality that stands over against the medieval church’s conviction that there is nothing final in what Jesus Christ has done, and therefore it must be repeated day by day, mass by mass. We have also observed that this finality underscores a corollary sufficiency to Christ’s work for sinners. Finality and sufficiency go together.

    But given the Reformation its due, we trust as not blinded us to the weaknesses in the Reformers themselves, or in the traditions that have issued from the Reformers. Yet noting these weaknesses has also produced blessing for us. For the weaknesses in the Reformers and in our Reformational traditions become the opportunity for our re-evaluation, our re-appropriation, our re-examination, our revitalization, and deepening in the original. Let us take a weakness that appeared early on in the Lutheran branch of the Reformation, but also in time made deep inroads into the Calvinist tradition.

    You see, despite the root commitment in the Reformation to the finality and sufficiency of Christ’s work, there was still a tendency, rising within Lutheranism and then eventually in Calvinism, to equate justification with the deliverance from a personal, inner religious crisis. That was the meaning of justification—a deliverance from a personal inner religious crisis. An all-important personal inner religious crisis, if you will. This crisis was described as an interior assault by God’s law, which led to an equally interior relief through a realization of the forgiveness of sins found in the gospel.

    Now, in what I have just said, there is much truth, and there is power, and there is much that is helpful. But there is also danger, and you must be aware of that danger. In this approach, if it is allowed to stand by itself, it appears to begin with the individual and his circumstance. It begins with the person and with his predicament. It even begins with the internal workings of his religious experience. You can see, then, that such an approach to the matter of justification, if it is allowed to stand by itself, easily moves into a rather raw subjectivity, a blatant subjectivity, one that focuses, on the one hand, upon the emotional state of the individual, and on the other hand, upon the intellectual understanding by that individual of the crisis he is experiencing.

    Now, at its best, and as all of this is wonderfully refined by the best of Reformed and even Lutheran thought, this approach recommends to us what we call, in a Latin term, the ordo salutis, or the order of salvation. The order of salvation. Here is the order of salvation, or the ordo salutis, approach to the question of salvation of sinners. Now, the order of salvation, or the ordo salutis approach, is quite essential. Do not misunderstand me here.

    It is quite essential to our correct understanding of how redemption is applied to individual believers. In other words, as biblical Christians, we are rightly concerned to understand our personal experience in relation to effectual calling, justification, adoption, and sanctification. We are called to see the proper relationship among these aspects of salvation, recognizing their correct order and development. However, even here, continuing the argument I have made previously, left to itself, the ordo salutis—the understanding of the order of salvation—presents its own challenges. For it too can become the occasion for an excessive focus on the self, on the ego, or as one critic put it, the thinking I. This refers to the personal pronoun “I.” The thinking I. It can lead to an overemphasis on the internal, personal process of salvation within the individual and mistakenly equate that process with the gospel itself.

    There is a danger. Here is the problem. We are deeply trained in the ordo salutis. We carefully rehearse it in our catechisms and confessions, and rightly so. But remember that there is a certain danger if this ordo salutis, or the order of salvation, or the steps in the salvation process, is allowed to stand alone. Such a practice, which in itself is a temptation to the Church of Jesus Christ, tends to shift the Church’s focus back onto itself and its personal experience. This tendency, however, is corrected by a more consistent emphasis on and foundation in historia salutis—the history of salvation. The ordo salutis must be preceded by the historia salutis, or the history of salvation.

    The starting point for the Apostle Paul is not the ordo salutis, as important as that is, nor something that has happened to Paul personally, individually, or even within him. That is not the starting point for him. Rather, the starting point for the Apostle Paul is the historia salutis, the history of salvation. That is, the starting point is the great turning point in the ages that has occurred, regardless of what has happened in and to the Apostle Paul.

    This turning point in the ages is objective and outside the individual. It took place through the coming of Jesus Christ, especially in His death, resurrection, and ascension. And that is why, you see, Paul emphasizes this point repeatedly.

    He does not preach himself. I want you to take that literally. He does not preach himself. He is not even going to preach to you about his inner experience. He is not even going to preach to you about his conversion. That is not the content of his gospel. He does not preach himself. He does not preach his emotions or his feelings. He does not preach to us how he came through his conversion. He does not even preach to us his intellectual understanding of the problem of sin and God’s righteousness.

    Paul, as you know, as I am certain that you know, preaches Jesus Christ crucified and risen. If you want the citation, they are clearly listed in Paul’s letters to the Corinthians. 1 Corinthians 1:23, 1 Corinthians 2:2, 2 Corinthians 4:5. Paul preaches Christ. In other words, the apostle is not primarily concerned to tell his audiences, the congregations to which he writes, or the people to whom he preaches, what happened to him or within him. Paul does not focus on the modern testimony. It would seem that the kind of spirituality that produces the modern testimony is foreign to the gospel that Paul proclaims. We are dealing here with something of a completely different spiritual nature and understanding. A different spirituality is involved.

    Now, I have said this often. This is not to discourage you from sharing your story, because that can be an encouragement to me, and it certainly can be an encouragement to others. But please, do not confuse your story with the story. Do not make that mistake.

    Paul is not primarily concerned to tell us what happened to him or within him, but rather what has happened to and within Jesus Christ. The gospel, therefore, according to the Apostle Paul, is not the conclusion of an internal argument he has resolved. It is not a decision he has made about religious matters. Nor is it a new idea that has come to him. It is not a new religious concept that suddenly makes sense of everything, of himself, or of the world around him. It is not an experience of religious release or resolution, even if that experience involves a clear understanding of his path to salvation or the order of salvation. It is the conclusive and sufficient event of God’s action in Christ.

    God has done something. The gospel, the good news, is therefore about what God has done in Christ, to whom we have been joined by grace through faith, so that this very event of Jesus Christ now defines us as it includes us. We are in it. Our lives, our thoughts, and our experiences are lost in Him. Everything becomes a supreme religious exercise. Even your understanding and appropriation of salvation is an exercise in losing yourself in Christ, in order that you might be recreated and reconstituted by His life, by His thought, and by His experience.

    Paul says, “I am crucified with Christ.” You see what he is doing? He is defining himself by the experience of Christ, not by his own experience. He also says that he has been raised with Christ. He further claims that those who are savingly united to Jesus Christ are seated with Christ in the heavenly places. They have ascended with Christ. Not only that, they are reigning with Christ, and he tells us they will return with Christ, for they are hidden in Christ, or with Christ in God. In brief, Paul says, “For to me to live is Christ.”

    Philippians 1:21. Now, the event character of the gospel. God has done something. God is active. That is why it is news, and good news at that.

    The event character of the gospel is revealed in Paul’s programmatic statement in Romans 1:17, where Paul writes, “For in this gospel the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith, as it is written, ‘The righteous man shall live by faith.’”

    This statement is to be matched with what you find in Romans 3.21 and 22, as was pointed out to us this morning in morning instruction. But now, apart from the law, the righteousness of God has been manifested, revealed, being witnessed by the law and the prophets, even the righteousness of God, which is by faith in Jesus Christ for all and on all who believe. It is my contention that these statements establish the event character of Paul’s gospel. That gospel is marked by a revelation concerning something that has definitively taken place.

    We have moved, historically, from a condition in which something had not taken place, had not occurred, but now it has. Paul, in chapter 3, verse 21, specifically states this case. That is, now that the great day of salvation has come, that great day of salvation has arrived. He specifically delineates this new day, this new situation, here in both of these verses, as the revelation of the righteousness of God.

    Righteousness does not come through human effort or human works, nor through the evolution of human culture or civilization. It does not come through a new religious idea. It is the gift of God, a gift that God is pleased to give to us through Christ’s death and resurrection, as God’s wrath is satisfied and His mercy is exalted toward sinners. But this gift of God—this righteousness of God as a gift—astounds us, not only because we are utterly unworthy and incapable of achieving it ourselves, but also because of its very nature. Here I want you to pay close attention, for here I intend to provide further content to the idea or reality of the righteousness of God. This may carry us even further, yes, even further, than what our Reformed fathers saw and appreciated. You see, the gift of God’s righteousness is nothing less than the gift of God Himself. It is the gift of God Himself to sinners under wrath. When viewed from a legal and forensic perspective, this gift of Himself becomes clear.

    Now, let me explain this more fully. The reward given to the second Adam, Jesus Christ, through His death and resurrection, is nothing less than the full possession of God. That is the goal. The goal is to have God. This has always been the goal, from the foundation of the world. It was what was intended for the first Adam. The full, complete, and satisfying possession of God was the reward that the first Adam forfeited through his disobedience. But now, in and through Christ, this reward—God Himself—has been restored to God’s people. We are made heirs of God. We inherit God. This is what it means to be called sons of God. To be a son is to be an heir. An heir of what? A piece of real estate? A mansion in heaven? A nice corner lot? You are heirs of God.

    But to receive God as our inheritance, as our reward, especially now in light of our legal and forensic alienation from God, is to receive in Christ the righteousness of God. There is no greater, no further, no higher righteousness than this. This is why the righteousness of God cannot be overcome. It is a righteousness belonging to the final acquittal before God’s presence. Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, Romans 8. Just as God’s righteous wrath silences all human boasting.

    Thus, the gift of Himself as righteousness silences the accusations of envy regarding God’s election. Such a gift must be trusted in, and rested upon. If it is not trusted in and rested upon, it is never enjoyed, and it is not even possessed. For if you do not approach it through trust in it and upon it, you make room for boasting. Then the self begins to exalt itself again.

    It is along these lines that Paul’s preaching of justification by God’s sovereign act coalesces with his proclamation of the Spirit, who is a dominant figure in Paul’s preaching, teaching, and instruction. You see, just as the righteousness of God is God’s gift to us, so also the Spirit of God is God’s gift to us, especially seen from the grand and glorious perspective of the fullness of life given to us. For by the Spirit, and in the Spirit, we are made alive. And in having the Spirit, we have life, and we have God Himself. The Spirit is the earnest and down payment of our inheritance.

    Paul therefore, contrary to what liberalism—specifically nineteenth-century liberalism—has claimed, is not at war with himself. According to this view, he was simultaneously preaching the remnants of a Jewish legalistic religion in his doctrine of justification, and also the insights of a mystical spiritual religion more characteristic of former worshippers of the Greek mysteries. Instead, Paul proclaims the great act of God, the event of God’s coming in Christ, through which God’s wrath is satisfied and God’s love is upheld. In this event, God gives Himself to His Son as the Son’s inheritance, and through His Son grants to us, as co-heirs, possession of Himself. Even as He gives us His Spirit and nothing less than His righteousness.

    The message then for you is that while you await the fulfillment of your faith, God has already acted on your behalf. The message is that the gift has already come; it has already arrived. You are not sitting here this evening merely looking toward the distant horizon, waiting for it to arrive. It has already come. It is already here. It is already present.

    One problem is that you may be afraid to believe this. You might tremble at the prospect of what is being declared. You might be afraid to embrace this truth in the proclamation of the gospel, because you fear your own failure over time to maintain your interest in it or your zeal for it, knowing all too well your past habits and the weight of your disappointments—both with yourself and, as you have assessed the situation, with God. But I am here to tell you this evening, as I preach this gospel to you, that such hesitation arises from thoughts and feelings rooted in the self, in the ego.

    And this gospel calls upon you to look away from yourself and to look toward the final and sufficient act of God in Christ. The event of the gospel by which God has bestowed upon His Church Himself in His Spirit and in His righteousness, apart from the Church’s works, ideas, feelings, and experiences. Here is the grand gospel, yet even more consistently stated in its finality and sufficiency. And it is yours. Is it not? Because you believe it. Do you not?

    Our Father, we would keep before us the finality and sufficiency of Christ, and we would remember, Lord, the objective historical work of our God in sending Christ in His death, resurrection, ascension, present session, and return. We are compelled by this gospel to look away from ourselves, that we might be found in Him, not having a righteousness of our own, which is by works, but a righteousness from God and of God, which is by faith. O Lord, there is nothing for us to do but to trust in this, Your grand, glorious, final, and sufficient act, to rest upon it. He rests upon Jesus Christ as He is the embodiment of it. And this, O God, that we might even now, in keeping with what You have done, enjoy You as our reward through Him, even by Your Spirit and in Your righteousness. Lord, we bless You for so great a gospel. It is the power of God unto salvation.

    The sermon text provided above is derived from the sermon audio recording making use of generative tools. It has not been manually edited. While transcription tools have a high degree of accuracy, the output may include generative textual, punctuation, and/or formatting errors.

  • The Finality of Christ’s Work

    The Finality of Christ’s Work

    This sermon is from the Rev. Charles G. Dennison sermon archive, part of the “By Way of Reminder” series, and was preached at Grace Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Sewickley, PA, during a worship service on Sunday, August 25, 1996.

    About this sermon

    Roman, Lutheran, and Reformed views each reckon differently with the finality of Christ’s work, and that finality rules out any reliance on ongoing personal experience. Even Calvin’s view of the covenant was incomplete, and Warfield and Vos later closed that gap for the Protestant legacy.

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    Sermon transcript

    Tonight we are reading from 1 Corinthians 1, and we are beginning at verse 18. Give your attention to God’s holy word. 1 Corinthians 1, verse 18: For the word of the cross is to those who are perishing, foolishness. But to us who are being saved, it is the power of God. For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the cleverness of the clever I will set aside.

    Where is the wise man? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not come to know God, God was well pleased through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe.

    For indeed, Jews ask for signs and Greeks search for wisdom. But we preach Christ crucified: to Jews a stumbling block, and to Gentiles foolishness. But to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. For consider your call, brothers and sisters, that there were not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble. God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things that are strong. And the base things of the world and the despised, God has chosen the things that are not, that he might nullify the things that are, so that no one should boast before God.

    By his doing you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption. But just as it is written, Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord. Our God, there are those all-important matters that are so central to our minds in our reflection upon our faith and your word.

    At the same time, O God, we would not set aside those matters that might be considered secondary or peripheral. To this end, O Father, we would honor your Spirit, by whom and through whom your word comes, as well as the one whose ministry includes the ordering and structuring of your people. Therefore, O God, as we respect your word in regard to those central and all-important matters for our salvation, we also respect your word in regard to the government of your Church. Father, we ask for humble minds and teachable spirits, that we may not go beyond your word, but remain faithful to what you have revealed. To that end, O Father, we ask that we may be faithful to your word as it has been honored in the system of government we have embraced.

    May this system of government be for our good and for your glory. We ask, therefore, Lord, that you would grant to your Church good and strong ministers of the word, righteous and true elders who can lead well, and deacons who are merciful and able to serve others. Do bless our officers here and also throughout your Church. May we be aware, O God, of how you bring us together with other Christian communities, even those who differ with us on matters of church government.

    Yet, O God, may there be grace in us, insofar as we agree on the central matters of the gospel, so that your Spirit may work through us to bring unity among your people. This we ask through Christ, who is Head and King of the Church.

    Amen. This brief series I have entitled, By Way of Reminder. I am engaged in it because, from time to time, it is well that I call your minds once more to the basic orientation of this pulpit. That is for the sake of newcomers, for the sake of long-time members, and for the sake of you children, who may be at the point in your lives when you are ready to grasp more fully what is presented in this church. If I were to identify a distinctive note for this ministry and this pulpit, taking my cue from 1 Corinthians chapter 1, verse 30, and from the way in which our Reformational heritage expounds upon that verse, that note would be finality. The finality of Jesus Christ and His sacrifice for us. The finality of Jesus Christ and the nature of His saving work on our behalf.

    If you want to know what the Protestant Reformation was all about, here it is in one word—finality. The Reformers confessed the finality of Christ’s death and the nature of His saving work, and surely the sufficiency of that saving work on behalf of sinners. Rome denied and continues to deny that finality and sufficiency. According to Rome, Christ’s cross merely renews sinners for a probationary state, as if they were being returned to the Garden of Eden and, like Adam, given a fresh choice between life and death. There is no finality in the preaching, ministry, and message of the Church of Rome. The Reformers, on the other hand, saw Christ’s death and the nature of His saving work in connection with a definitive, final resolution.

    This means, then, that there is a dimension to the Reformers’ proclamation that recognizes the eschatological significance of Christ’s work and the finality of Christ’s work. And at least as far as Calvin and the Reformed Church’s perspective are concerned, this death of Christ and the nature of his saving work bring believers, in principle, into a final state of affairs. Grasp this point, for you see, it explains the Calvinistic emphasis on the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints. It is only the Calvinists and the Reformed churches that have consistently proclaimed the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints, because Calvin and those of Reformed persuasion understood that the finality of Christ’s death is connected to the believer’s position in relation to that death. There is a finality in Christ’s sacrifice and offering, and there is a finality in the believer’s position in relation to that death and not in relation to ongoing saving work. Thus, the perseverance of the saints.

    Something final has taken place. Do you hear the emphasis? In Paul’s words, the point he makes so powerfully and forcefully in 1 Corinthians 1:30, “For by God’s doing we are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption.” Do you hear the finality of what the Apostle is stating there? But there has been a breakdown in the Reformation, from the Reformation, precisely at this point. Yes, you heard me correctly. There has been a breakdown in the Reformation and from the Reformation precisely at this point. The Lutherans hesitated. That is why some of you are here tonight. You are former Lutherans. And you know that the Lutherans hesitated.

    Now, some have suggested that there was a weakness in Luther himself. To be sure, the finality of Christ’s work on the cross and the nature of his saving actions. But at the same time, some have asserted that there was a weakness in Luther himself. This is because there was a tendency toward an anthropocentric theology on Luther’s part, as opposed to a theocentric theology, such as that found in Calvin. By beginning with the question of my own justification, or with the issue of humanity’s possible justification before a holy God, it has been observed that Luther proposed a flawed system—one that at the outset capitulated to human need before considering God’s glory. There was a tendency in Luther toward a man-centered theology. Subsequent generations of Lutherans have then failed at a number of points, as has been contended. Building on this weakness in Luther and in others, Scripture has been compromised by the conviction that only those scriptures in which the doctrine of justification by faith can be clearly discerned are genuine scriptures.

    Thus, there are scriptures in the canon, and there are other writings in the canon that are not considered equally authoritative. You remember Luther’s own case with respect to the epistle of James in this regard. He called it the epistle of straw. The effect of this was to produce a canon within the canon. Scripture, in effect, was set over against Scripture, even suggesting that there are contradictions within Scripture as one moves from one section to another. We must now address Luther’s disciple, Melanchthon.

    For Melanchthon abandoned Luther’s steadfast commitment to Augustinianism, his steadfast commitment to predestination and election, and the sovereign disposition of God in the salvation of sinners. This led Lutheranism into a semi-Pelagian position, which made salvation a cooperative effort between God and humanity. This position obviously leads not only to a compromise regarding the doctrine of salvation from humanity’s perspective, but also a compromise concerning the sufficiency of Christ’s death, and certainly undermines any possibility for the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints within confessional Lutheranism. Finally, Lutheranism took a step away from the finality of Christ’s death by making Luther’s own religious crisis—the experience through which he came to conviction on the doctrine of justification—the very avenue into the New Testament doctrine of salvation itself.

    Luther’s experience of justification was judged to be the key to Paul’s teaching. But Paul’s experience on the road to Damascus was also judged to be a key to understanding that doctrine. Thus, experience—whether Luther’s or Paul’s—was elevated above the doctrine itself. It is not difficult to see in all this the growing emphasis on humanity and its experience, even as such emphasis begins to overshadow the finality of Christ’s sacrifice and the sufficiency of it.

    There are reasons, then, why we are not Catholic. There are reasons why we are not Lutheran. But to criticize Rome and Luther does not leave Calvin untouched. For he too had weaknesses. Yes, Calvin, perhaps more consistently than others, recognized and upheld the finality of Christ’s work. And there are certainly passages in Calvin that urge us toward a fuller understanding of the covenant over which Christ presides, in which we are included. There is much language in Calvin concerning union with Christ. All of this is true. But at the same time, Calvin was not able, in a thorough and consistent manner, to grasp the firmness of that finality which Scripture proclaims regarding Christ’s work.

    Like Luther, Calvin clearly saw that the gospel presented in the Scriptures—especially the doctrine of justification by faith alone—means that Christ gave himself for us. Amen. What was less clearly expressed in Calvin was the complementary truth of the gospel: that Christ’s work means our incorporation into Christ, since Christ is our covenantal head. In other words, it is not only Christ for us, but Christ in us, and we in Christ.

    This truth was not expounded or emphasized as fully as the doctrine of justification by faith alone. In fact, there is a sense in which we must say that justification by faith alone has its proper context only in this other precious doctrine: Christ in us and we in Christ. This weakness in Calvin and in subsequent Calvinism made it especially difficult for Calvinists to understand the proper relationship between the full sufficiency and finality of Christ’s death and their own subjective experience of salvation. In other words, the proper relationship between redemption accomplished and redemption applied.

    For example, Calvinists often seem unable to grasp the fact that the justification of the believer is grounded in the full, adequate, primal, and final justification of Christ. Before you are justified, Christ himself has already been justified, and the certainty of your justification is the certainty of his. The reason your justification is final is because Christ’s justification is final, and you share in that. The reason your justification is sufficient is because Christ’s justification is sufficient, and you share in that.

    But to state the case more fully, the same applies to other aspects of our subjective appropriation of redemption. The same applies to our adoption and our sanctification. Your adoption is in Him, first of all and foremost, and because of Him. You must never think of your sanctification as something you do on your own, since Christ has already done everything else for you up to that point. Christ, therefore, precedes us in the experiences of justification, adoption, and sanctification through His death and resurrection. Your justification, adoption, and sanctification are an entering into His work through union with Him in His death and resurrection. Christ’s resurrection is His justification. It is also His adoption, whereby He is declared to be the Son of God. It is also His sanctification.

    You may want to examine the opening verses of Romans 1 in this regard. These weaknesses, which we have discussed this evening—these weaknesses of Rome, these weaknesses in Luther, and also, yes, admittedly, in Calvin—have become the occasion for the religious struggles of the last 480 years. Both the denial of Christ’s finality by Rome and the incomplete affirmation of that finality by Lutherans and Calvinists have promoted new quests for security in a misguided Christian rationalism and a misdirected Christian pietism, neither of which have much to do with genuine biblical Christianity. In that last statement, I have just surveyed for you the history of Christ’s church in the eighteenth century.

    There it is: the pietists reacting to insufficient proclamation, and the rationalists responding with their form of objectivism. But in the nineteenth century, it is a whole new situation. In the nineteenth century, that rationalism and that pietism actually—imagine it—joined forces, embraced one another, and in the liberal gospel and this new gospel, which is no gospel, became bold to claim an autonomy for its own religious perspective and commitment.

    It had no difficulty asserting that Luther’s doctrine of justification was merely a hangover from his Jewish upbringing, and the fact that he still, unfortunately, looked at God as a judge who demanded legal satisfaction from sinners. Here were Protestants saying such things—liberal Protestants saying such things. But despite these vestiges of Judaism in Paul, according to the liberals, the real message from this man was what he had learned from the Gentile pagan mystery religions and their notions about spiritual union with a Redeemer. Thus, in the liberal version of Christianity, the doctrine of the Spirit and spiritual union with the Redeemer became paramount, set at odds with and antithetical to Paul’s doctrine of justification by faith. Paul is at war with himself.

    But even more, according to these liberals, Jesus became the promoter of a new religion, at the center of which stood the figure of Jesus, a religion demanding full faith in Jesus. According to the liberal, Jesus never intended to become the object of faith; he only set himself forth as an example of faith. According to the liberal, Jesus did not come to save us; he never intended such a message; he only came to lead us to higher ethical standards.

    Thus, the nineteenth century brought the Protestant Church to a critical point and placed her at the end of her resources. Protestantism, having begun well with its declaration of the finality of Christ’s sacrifice for sinners, has, through certain weaknesses, compromised that commitment. Its nineteenth-century expression abandoned the finality of Christ’s sacrifice, treating it as something novel and unusual in Paul’s teaching, and something absent in Jesus’ teaching.

    Is this our legacy? We are vastly outnumbered. The liberal church has, for the most part, controlled matters from the end of the nineteenth century through the entire twentieth century. Is this our legacy? It is into this desperate situation that the importance of old Princeton and Westminster Seminary becomes clear, and the importance of a confessional Orthodox Reformed theology. Yes, those institutions, and we ourselves, reflect the weaknesses already observed in Protestantism and in Calvinism generally. At the same time, there stood B. B. Warfield, and there stood Gerhardus Vos, especially Vos, who would fight against both the liberal assault and against the failures of Protestantism generally. Boss will concede that the Reformers themselves placed too much emphasis exclusively on the doctrine of justification, the doctrine of Christ for us.

    But he will also contend that the entrance into Paul and into the gospel proclaimed by the Apostle is his doctrine of the Spirit, the doctrine of the Holy Spirit, and by that Spirit union with Christ. He will go on to say that Paul’s doctrine of justification by faith is indispensable and essential. And as indispensable, essential, consistent, and particularly focused, it is an outworking of Paul’s overall doctrine of the Spirit and of our union by the Spirit in Christ’s death, resurrection, ascension, glorification, present heavenly reign, and consummate return. Furthermore, he contends that Jesus’ message about himself, his own self-consciousness, his own self-disclosure, and his teaching about the Kingdom of God and the Church are equivalent to Paul’s doctrine of the Spirit and Paul’s doctrine of union with Christ.

    It all hangs together. Vos makes the case, and no one has answered him. Thus Vos reasserts the Protestant doctrine of the finality of Christ. But in full fashion, I intuit a more capable doctrine of the finality and harmony of the word of God in its entirety.

    It is upon this foundation, then, that Mason and Van Til and Stonehouse and Murray and Gaffin build. In their efforts, they have been especially aided by a Dutch exegete by the name of Herman. I can say only that it is extremely important that the Church listen to these men if she is to breach the wall. Without the blessing of the Holy Spirit, which the Holy Spirit has been pleased to confer in and through these men, there will not be any breach. Here, then, is appropriate progress for Reformational theology.

    Here is faithful exposition of the full finality of Christ and the sufficient, final, harmonious, and consistent witness to Christ in all of the Scriptures. This is so that you might know that your salvation from beginning to end is not only by Christ, but in Christ. And by virtue of the Holy Spirit’s ministry, a miracle takes place with regard to you, so that you are actually a participant in Christ’s death, resurrection, ascension, glorification, present heavenly session, and his eventual return. Truly, by God’s doing, you are in Christ Jesus.

    Listen to the words of Scripture. You are in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption. To this end, just as it is written: “Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord.” Amen. Our Father, bless us.

    In our progress with regard to the truth of Your word, may the fullness of that finality and sufficiency in Christ and in Your word be honored by us. And Lord, we ask that, as far as we are concerned, we might give way in our boasting about ourselves, so that our boasting might be in You, and that because of all that You have done for us, and yes, in us, through and by Christ. Father, may this be a church that always honors the finality and the sufficiency of Christ’s death and the nature of His saving activity. We pray this through Christ, who even now has incorporated us into Himself, that we might appear.

    The sermon text provided above is derived from the sermon audio recording making use of generative tools. It has not been manually edited. While transcription tools have a high degree of accuracy, the output may include generative textual, punctuation, and/or formatting errors.

  • Justification by Faith Alone

    Justification by Faith Alone

    This sermon is from the Rev. Charles G. Dennison sermon archive, part of the “By Way of Reminder” series, and was preached at Grace Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Sewickley, PA, during a worship service on Sunday, August 11, 1996.

    About this sermon

    This review series opens with its purpose stated plainly: reminding the church of Luther’s and Calvin’s rediscovery of justification by faith alone, against the backdrop of the Roman Catholic mass. At its heart is the finality of Christ’s finished work, which alone secures our freedom.

    More sermons from Galatians · Browse all sermons

    Sermon transcript

    Tonight we are reading Galatians 2. Let us give our attention to the reading of God’s word, Galatians 2. Then, after an interval of fourteen years, I went up again to Jerusalem with Barnabas, taking Titus along also. This was because of a revelation that I had received, and I presented the gospel which I preach among the Gentiles to those who were of reputation, in private, for fear that I might be running, or had run, in vain.

    But not even Titus, who was with me, though he was a Greek, was compelled to be circumcised. This was because of false brethren who had secretly infiltrated our group to spy on the freedom we have in Christ Jesus, with the intent to bring us into slavery. But we did not yield to them in subjection, not even for an hour, so that the truth of the gospel might remain with you. As for those who were of high reputation, their identity makes no difference to me, for God shows no partiality. Those who were considered to be pillars contributed nothing to me.

    On the contrary, recognizing that I had been entrusted with the gospel for the uncircumcised, just as Peter had been entrusted with the gospel for the circumcised, for the one who worked effectively through Peter in his apostleship to the circumcised also worked effectively through me for the Gentiles. And after recognizing the grace given to me, James, Cephas, and John, who were regarded as pillars, gave me and Barnabas the right hand of fellowship, so that we might go to the Gentiles and they to the circumcised. They also asked us to remember the poor, which was indeed my own eager intention.

    But when Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. For before certain men came from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles. But when they came, he began to withdraw and separate himself, fearing the group of those who insisted on circumcision. And the rest of the Jews joined him in this hypocrisy, so that even Barnabas was led astray by their behavior. But when I saw that they were not acting in line with the truth of the gospel, I said to Cephas in the presence of all, “If you, though a Jew, live like the Gentiles and not like the Jews, why do you compel the Gentiles to live like Jews?”

    We are Jews by nature and not sinners from among the Gentiles. Nevertheless, we know that a person is not justified by the works of the law, but through faith in Jesus Christ. Even we have believed in Christ Jesus, so that we might be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the law, because by the works of the law no one will be justified. But if, while seeking to be justified in Christ, we ourselves have also been found to be sinners, is Christ then a servant of sin?

    May it never be. For if I rebuild what I have once destroyed, I prove myself to be a lawbreaker. For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing.”

    Lord, may our ears be opened to You as servants made alive by You. Even animated by Your call, may the certainty of that call be confirmed in us, that we continue to hear what You say. Bless us, Your children, as we would be children to a Father, You a Father to us. As we are to listen to our earthly fathers, may we listen even more seriously and solemnly to our Heavenly Father. We pray this, O God, even as You, by Your Spirit and for the sake of Your Son, set this word before us for our benefit and for our good. We pray this truly, in Jesus’ name, amen.

    I have felt that it is good from time to time to offer to You, this congregation, reminders of the orientation of this topic. The reasons for this, I trust, are fairly obvious. For one thing, we have new people regularly coming into this Church, and it is important in the preaching ministry of this Church that the message from this pulpit be heard in direct terms. Also, the history of God’s people recorded for us in Scripture, and what we know from Church history and about ourselves personally, are certainly enough to convince us of the need for constant reminders.

    This is true not only because of the limits we know as human beings, because we are finite, but also because we are sinners. Therefore, in the interests of our sanctification, we must not allow ourselves to become weary of reminders. Not that every message from this pulpit is not a reminder. Not that every Scripture read in our hearing is not a reminder.

    However, a reminder, especially one that is self-consciously crafted to be just that, a reminder, is of great value to us in our Christian walk. Like the words, like the rocks taken from the Jordan and set up as a memorial, like even the sacraments, one of which we celebrated this morning. Messages like these, specially crafted reminders, may then well serve as monuments, as markers, as guideposts for us, a congregation of the Lord. But there is also the matter of our refreshment.

    Like having been traveling for a while, moving surely in the right direction, but then coming to an elevated point—a hill or a mountain—from the top of which we see better, more clearly, our destination, and also the lay of the land around us. My own soul has been graciously refreshed when I have caught again a glimpse of where I, in this Christian pilgrimage, am headed, and have understood once again the relationship of my present circumstance to that destiny, to that goal. This evening, you may well be in need of your own refreshment. This evening, you may well be in need of standing on a hill, as it were, once again, a mountaintop, just to get your bearings, to find your orientation once more, and to see clearly where you are headed. It could be that a concentrated, specifically crafted reminder would be of great help to you.

    Then there is also the matter of our spiritual development, that a focused reminder may catch you in the providence of God at a point in your life when you are ready, prepared by His Holy Spirit, to hear and to receive as never before what you must hear and receive now. This point is especially important to you, children in the congregation.

    The messages you hear regularly from this pulpit may seem to be beyond you, even confusing to you. You may not understand some, or even much, of the content of the preaching that comes forth from this pulpit. You may not understand the reasons why I seem to become so excited here, or why I raise my voice when I preach. You may not even understand why my face becomes so red, or why the veins in my neck become visible. I have been told by some that I will suffer a coronary here. One small child, so I was told, asked his mother during one of my sermons, “Is Pastor Denison mad at us?” Well, sometimes I am.

    But hopefully my smile, or perhaps it is a grimace— I have been told that as well—is enough to convince you of my interest in you and my love for you. Then there are those unforgettable days, such as the time when, on another occasion, I was delivering a reminder message, and Julie Loud came to me after the service, her face beaming, and said, “I understood everything you said.” May all of you children come to the point in your life where you fully understand the message being preached to you. To recall our orientation in summary form from time to time can therefore be greatly beneficial, and it clearly stands in keeping with the forceful directives of Scripture itself. Such directives as Isaiah 46:9 and 10, a passage which many of you children have memorized.

    Remember the former things of old, writes Isaiah. For I am God, and there is none else. I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times the things that are not yet done, saying, My counsel shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure. What about the simple reminder from Paul in 2 Timothy 2, verse 8?

    Remember that Jesus Christ, of the seed of David, was raised from the dead, according to my gospel. Such reminders are of interest to us as we in the Church are benefited by them, and also as they become the occasion for a clear and concise presentation of the gospel itself, by which sinners are converted and translated from darkness into light. So let us continue with this reminder. This reminder concerns the orientation of this pulpit, in the hope before God that such a reminder may be found to be most useful to you. My reminder to you tonight is about the Protestant roots of this ministry, and begins with an assessment of the Apostle Paul’s relationship to the gospel. In understanding the orientation of this pulpit, I want you to ask yourself: How is Paul’s message to be approached most adequately? How is Paul’s message to be approached most adequately?

    It is the judgment of this pulpit that in order to answer this question, we must be in tune with the Reformers—sixteenth-century servants of God, particularly Martin Luther and John Calvin. Both of these men turned to Paul, the apostle of the Lord, in their responses to Catholicism and saw that the doctrine of an objective justification by faith was at the heart of the biblical gospel. Strive to understand the doctrine of justification by faith.

    In other words, according to these servants of God, a definitive historical work of God—an act of God in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ—fifteen hundred years before their time, was the basis of their salvation and their right standing before God. And that a relationship to this definitive work of God was possible not through works or through personal emotional responses, but only through faith in God’s gift. This meant for them, as they appropriated the message that the Apostle Paul, the servant of God, was proclaiming, that a right standing before God does not come to the Church through legalistic pursuits of religious duties, nor through mystical flights into experiential spirituality.

    Both approaches had been perfected by the Medieval Church, yet both lacked the essential element of Paul’s message: the focus on the concrete, historical, once-for-all-time act by God for the salvation of sinners in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. You see, these Reformers understood that if salvation comes through the legalistic pursuit of religious duties or through experiential spirituality, then the concrete historical, once-for-all-time act by God in Christ becomes tangential, trivial, and finally superfluous to the Church’s message. And that accepting the Roman Catholic position, at best, the concrete historical acts of God and Christ must be reinterpreted as anything but a once-for-all-time event, and made into an ongoing event, the benefit of which is attained only by those who are morally and mystically engaged with it. Christ’s death becomes a repeatable event that must be appropriated anew regularly in the believer’s life. Here is the very heart of the Roman Catholic system of the Mass, wherein Rome officially teaches that Jesus Christ is re-sacrificed, and that for the sins most recently committed by those in the Church.

    Both Luther and Calvin, together with the Reformation Churches that arose from them, repudiated such a system. In the conviction that the Holy Spirit is speaking through the Scriptures, they declared Paul’s message: that Jesus Christ gave himself for us, conclusively. By his sacrifice, the righteousness of God has appeared—righteousness that is apart from the law and is instead by grace through faith. For no one will be justified by the works of the law, let alone by our own spiritual experiences. Some of you know that in this summary of the Reformation’s understanding of Paul’s message, I have drawn together elements from Galatians 2, Romans 3, Philippians 3, Ephesians 2, and the central argument of 2 Corinthians 11–12. This is a solid survey of the Apostle Paul and his intention.

    The glory of the Reformation, then, is this: the realization, by God’s grace, that in Christ’s death and resurrection, something final has taken place. And it is through simple faith—only through simple faith—that the proper, God-honored connection to this final act of God is found.

    Otherwise, you fall into greater error. If you compromise the finality of God’s action in Christ’s death and resurrection, you fall into greater error. And if you rely on works, you reject grace. And if you reject grace, you boast in yourself. That is the truth. Now, need I say, this is why you are Protestant. The power of this genuine biblical faith is beyond measure.

    Shall we speak of freedom? I do not think we understand what freedom truly is anymore. On secular campuses, and even on some Christian campuses, the Christian freedom that arose from the Protestant Reformation has been entirely secularized and reduced to a political concept. It is said to be the only freedom that matters.

    Political freedom. Let me ask you about the Apostle Paul. Is this man politically free? As I recall, he was a man in chains, and he even described himself as a bond slave to Jesus Christ. So much for political freedom. This man knows a greater freedom.

    And it is a shame that so much of the Church of Jesus Christ in our day is a stranger to it. The force of this genuine biblical religion is inestimable. What freedom! The Apostle Paul being described as the apostle of freedom, the apostle of liberty. Freedom from human religious tyranny.

    We understand this in relationship to the tyrannous regime of Phariseeism, of which Paul was a part at one time in his life. We know it also from the tyrannous regime of the medieval Church, from which the Reformers were liberated. And what freedom from personal and inner religious torment.

    Does not Luther have something to teach us here? A man, it seems, filled with inner turmoil. Then by the grace of the gospel, as that was communicated to him powerfully through the epistle to the Romans and the epistle to the Galatians, he became finally a free man, with a conscience that was cleansed. As Paul says in one of the most glorious texts in all of his writings, one so easily passed over, Galatians 5 verse 1: “For freedom Christ has set us free. For freedom Christ has set us free.” And let me tell you, no government can take that freedom from you. None. And that is what makes some governments so upset. It is as if Paul, with those words from Galatians 5, were echoing his Lord.

    Jesus’ own words from John 8:36: “If the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed.” If you do not understand what this means, do not give yourselves rest until you do. Now I must remind you of more things than what I have said this evening. Do not worry; I am bringing this message to a close. This will be a short series entitled, “By Way of Reminder.” What I have said tonight, let it suffice for now. Let it suffice as a reminder to you about the Reformation recovery of Paul’s gospel of salvation by grace through faith. In God’s final sacrifice for sinners in Jesus Christ, that you might live in and enjoy the freedom belonging to the sons of God.

    Our God, we would not despise You. You are stirring us up to reminders that we might be pointed again in the right direction, even corrected. Grant us patience. Refresh ourselves in the orientation of our faith. Be blessed where we are in that position of our spiritual growth, even as we are beckoned through reminders to greater heights yet. We who are children, called even by these reminders, so that these reminders are set as memorials in our minds for an appropriate time. And Father, we ask that we would remember how Your Spirit has worked in Your Church, so remarkably that at times there is a consensus revolving around a reminder, such as in the time of the Reformation.

    And we would not despise our heritage, but hold to it, because we love You and we delight in the freedom that You have given us as Your gift. Here, Father, let slavery and bondage, whether religious or secular, not stop us. May we prove ourselves to be those who are free indeed, the very sons of God.

    The sermon text provided above is derived from the sermon audio recording making use of generative tools. It has not been manually edited. While transcription tools have a high degree of accuracy, the output may include generative textual, punctuation, and/or formatting errors.