By John Gerstner
Martin Luther called justification the doctrine by which ‘‘the church either stands or falls.” Calvin declared it the “hinge of the Reformation.” The Roman Catholic Church, at the Council of Trent (1546–63), where it dealt with the Protestant Reformation, recognized justification as the central doctrine at issue. This doctrine is the core of the gospel; it is indispensable. The Reformed church of the sixteenth century was purified by reaffirming clearly this doctrine, while Roman Catholicism was destroyed by denying it. There is a difference of opinion as to its precise meaning, but there is no difference of opinion at all concerning its indispensability to evangelism.
Not only does the church stand or fall by this doctrine, but the individual also. That is, dear reader, this doctrine is the doctrine by which you stand or fall before God. Nothing can be more important to you than to understand, believe, trust in, and spread this core doctrine of the Christian religion.
So far are we today from understanding the importance of this doctrine that we hardly ever hear it mentioned. When it is mentioned, it sounds very strange to us. The doctrine that is essential to salvation should not sound strange to people who profess to be saved Christians.
To illustrate how far our twentieth century is from what the sixteenth century considered the heart of the gospel, let me relate a true, though almost unbelievable, incident. I was once speaking to a group of business people on justification, and there was a journalist representing a local newspaper in attendance. I preached justification emphatically, clearly, earnestly, and, I hoped, persuasively. It was, therefore, rather discouraging to learn from the newspaper account that I had spoken the night before on the theme of “Just a vacation by faith!” Fly now, pay later! That’s what the journalist heard as the central truth of the Christian religion! Now, a journalist can never be totally devoid of intelligence, nor can I be absolutely meaningless in a presentation. A strange event such as this could happen only because the word justification is so strange to the ears of modern Christians. This would be less tragic if one’s eternal life did not depend on a correct understanding and sincere belief in justification by faith alone. Though the Bible teaches justification, and only one way of justification, there are many different and conflicting views of this vital doctrine. This primer presents five different and conflicting current understandings of this doctrine, only one of which can possibly be the true biblical and saving doctrine. These competing interpretations may be diagrammed as follows:
- Liberalism: Works → Justification – Faith
- Neoorthodoxy: Faith → Justification – Works
- Antinomianism: Faith → Justification – Works
- Roman Catholicism: Faith + Works → Justification
- Evangelicalism: Faith → Justification + Works
Works → Justification – Faith
Liberalism believes justification is earned by works. The liberal believes that by acting virtuously while abstaining from sin, he may make himself acceptable to God, that is, be justified or be considered by God a just or righteous person. For him, justification means being made just by his own efforts. His is a do-it-yourself religion. Its golden text is, ‘‘Do this and thou shalt live.” The liberal believes that he can earn his own salvation by his own efforts. The gospel or good news for a liberal is the discovery of his own potentialities, and he is perfectly confident that he can make it on his own without any help from anybody, including God. He does not need Jesus Christ as a Savior. He needs no Savior because he is quite able to cope, thank you. He may or may not think that you are okay, but he has no doubt that you may be okay and that he is okay. Give him the light and he will find his own way. This is the gospel of self-esteem.
The diagram pictures that works (good deeds) bring justification minus faith. I had better explain the ‘‘minus’’ or the liberal view will be misunderstood. The liberal, who thinks he can save himself by his own endeavors, is not opposed to faith, in every sense of that word. He has faith that good food, for example, will nourish his body; that honesty pays in business; that if he posts a letter it is likely to reach its destination. He also has faith that everything will come out all right in the end, and that all’s well that ends well. It is strange in a sense, therefore, and unfair on the surface of it, to represent him as minus or hostile to faith. As a matter of fact, he is a practitioner of faith in many, many areas. His greatest faith, of course, is in himself and in his fellow man, whom he considers quite able to meet the demands of an all-holy and perfect God. Some of us would call this kind of faith “presumption’’; but, in his own opinion, it is a well-grounded belief in his own ability. So, in a sense, he is far from being without faith. He is almost “plus” faith with a vengeance.
But the liberal is minus or devoid of faith in the sense that he does not trust in the redemption of Jesus Christ for his salvation. He does not have faith in the shed blood of the Redeemer. He does not trust for his salvation in what someone else has done on his behalf. He does not need that kind of help, he thinks, and will not call upon it. In fact, he is insulted by such an offer. He feels that faith is a crutch for the people who cannot get along without it. As a healthy, upright, moral being, he does not need such a crutch as the work of Jesus Christ.
Christ speaks to the liberal when He says, “I did not come to call the righteous to repentance, but sinners.” The liberal virtually says, “You can say that again. That is perfectly true, I can achieve righteousness on my own. In fact, I have. I don’t need to repent of my sins and trust in salvation from any other source.’’ Liberals in the Gospels were the Pharisees, who trusted in themselves for righteousness. The modern liberal does the same; consequently, far from accepting the death of Christ as the basis of his salvation, he puts Christ to death for insulting him with the offer of salvation.
In that sense, “minus” faith is something of an understatement. If I gave the impression that the liberal was minus any kind of faith, it would be unfair to him who trusts in many other areas. But in the sense of the redemption offered by Jesus Christ, the liberal’s minus faith is too fair to him. Far more than lacking in faith, he is positively hostile to it. He takes mortal offense at the suggestion that he needs it. It is precisely because he has faith in himself that he will not have faith in Christ and is insulted by the merest hint that he needs it. So the presence of faith of his kind is what makes him minus, or violently opposed to, faith in the biblical and saving sense.
Liberalism, as I am using the word here, refers to persons who trust in themselves, and who, because they do, feel no need for special salvation. Consequently, they oppose the very claim of Christianity to be a revealed religion. The liberals, in the sense in which I’m using the word, deny the miraculous—the miraculous birth of Christ; the miraculous activities of Christ; the miraculous resurrection of Christ; the miraculous ascension of Christ; the miraculous intercession of Christ—and, of course, they do not expect the miraculous return of Christ in the clouds of glory. J. Gresham Machen, in his classic volume, Christianity and Liberalism, which even the liberals admit is a masterpiece, noted that liberalism is another religion, not Christianity. Liberalism and Christianity are not to be confused. They are in direct opposition to one another. Everything that Christianity maintains, such as the fall of man, the sin of man, and the necessity of redemption by grace and justification by faith, is repudiated by liberalism, making it, therefore, another religion altogether. It is indeed salvation by good views rather than by good news (the gospel). One of these religions is based on a high view of man’s own character; the other is based on a confidence that man is a sinner who can be saved only by grace. These are two diametrically opposed ways of salvation.
We are grateful when liberals acknowledge this and do not pretend to be Christians. Some years ago I was giving a course on the cults at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. Representatives of the different sects presented their viewpoints to my class. When I had the liberal pastor of the First Unitarian Church, the Rev. Mr. Cahill, present his views, he began in a very refreshing manner. He said bluntly at the outset of his lecture, after thanking me for the opportunity to address this class: “Dr. Gerstner is a Christian. I am not a Christian. Christianity is a religion of redemption, and your professor believes in it and is entitled to the name Christian. I don’t believe in the supernatural events of divine salvation through Jesus Christ, which I admit is the definition of Christianity. I am, frankly, not a Christian. I am a liberal, and I have a religion which is quite different from your professor’s, as he understands and I also understand.”
Most liberals do not admit they follow another religion. On the contrary, they claim to be authentic Christians. One can see why orthodox Christians are profoundly distressed by this. When somebody who denies Christ is the way of salvation passes himself off as a Christian, that is a dreadfully dangerous business. We must warn people constantly that liberalism is another gospel that is not a gospel at all. While a liberal propagates this religion as the truth, he owes it to everybody not to claim to be Christian and to admit that his views are diametrically opposed to the Christian position.
However, very few liberals actually acknowledge the truth of their divergence from the evangelical, historic Christian faith. Please note again, dear reader, that I am using the word liberal in a very precise sense of the word. I am not saying that any deviation whatsoever from the orthodox consensus constitutes liberalism. A person may be liberally inclined at certain points while nevertheless adhering to essential Christianity. I myself have been called a liberal on occasion because I believe in biblical criticism. Some orthodox Christians think the Bible ought not to be subject to any kind of criticism. They regard persons who think it should be as liberals, whether they are believers in its inspiration or not. I do not consider myself or others liberal because we believe in biblical criticism. We don’t consider other persons as liberal (in the sense that we are using it here) simply because they take a different view on predestination or baptism or church order, or a number of other doctrines on which orthodox Christians, who believe the supernatural gospel of Jesus Christ, vary from one another. Please remember, I am speaking here about liberalism as another religion, which opposes supernatural Christianity and denies its essential doctrines (while still claiming to be Christianity).
Liberalism has been with us from the beginning. In the early church it took the name of Pelagianism. At the time of the Reformation it was known as Socinianism. Today, in the Roman Catholic Church, it is usually called modernism. In Protestant churches it is designated by the term liberalism. As mentioned, we do not consider it a form of Christianity. In my own book on the cults [Theology of the Major Sects, Baker Book House, 1960], I class it with the non-Christian sects. When discussing the sects, I mention that it is far more of a threat to the Christian church than are the Mormons, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and Christian Scientists put together. Anybody who is at all knowledgeable about those and other cults is immediately aware that they are not orthodox Christian bodies. But liberalism, flying at a “low level of visibility,” is often not seen as a cult or sect, which in fact it is. Consequently, it probably leads more Christian people astray than all the recognized cults combined, precisely because it is not recognized as a cult. On the contrary, it falsely represents itself as, and frequently is thought by its victims to be, a bona fide expression of the Christian religion.
We can see, however, that it is categorically opposed to Christianity at its heart. The way of salvation taught by the Christian religion (the liberal Mr. Cahill very correctly observed) is by faith in Jesus Christ; whereas, according to liberalism, a person is justified by his own efforts. He thinks he is justified by faith in himself.
The Neoorthodox Way of Justification
Faith → Justification – Works
In the diagram presented at the beginning of this essay, you will notice that, after the liberal formula, the other four formulae all begin not with works, but with faith. That shows that they are all at least possibly Christian, whereas liberalism, on the very surface of it, cannot be. One cannot conceivably believe that salvation is by his own efforts and be a believer in Jesus Christ. All of these other views, the right one and the three other deviations, have this in common: they begin where they ought to begin, not with works, but with faith. From here on out we are dealing with people who have a right to be considered tentatively, at least, as Christian. I must phrase myself very carefully here. I consider that three of these remaining four ways are not soundly Christian, but are fatally deviant from it. By saying they may be tentatively considered as Christian, I mean this: at least they start out right. They do profess faith in Jesus Christ, as a Christian (if he is to bear that name) must do. Whether they are consistent in their affirmation or not remains to be seen. By contrast, liberalism is fatally wrong from the very beginning because it begins not with Christ’s salvation, but with man’s own achievement.
In the outline of the neoorthodox view of justification, the faith that leads to justification followed by “minus works’’ is in italics. ‘‘Justification’’ itself is also printed in italicized letters. The word ‘‘works” is in regular print. Neo-orthodox theologians, though they vary among themselves as do all schools of thought, do not have the same concept of faith that orthodox Christians teach. They profess faith that, under closer analysis, turns out not to be the genuine article. They differ from the liberals who do not even profess saving faith. When, however, neoorthodox “faith’’ is examined, it turns out to be incompatible with the orthodox meaning of the word and, indeed, devoid of meaning. By representing faith in italics I mean that the neoorthodox concept of faith in Christ is profoundly different from what is ordinarily in mind.
What we today call neo-orthodoxy is usually thought of as beginning in earnest in Europe with a second edition of Karl Barth’s commentary on the Book of Romans. That was in the early twenties, and the movement had an immediate, profound effect on Europe. Its effect began to be felt in the States in the late thirties and early forties.
In the early forties I was doing my graduate work at liberal Harvard, which had reluctantly begun to admit the existence of anti-liberal neoorthodoxy. Harvard was urbanely liberal and had buried orthodoxy a century before, except as an historical phenomenon. It was not about to take it seriously in the present. But the impact of the new form of orthodoxy was not to be denied. Harvard did in time at least take notice of it and invited Reinhold Niebuhr, who was one of the early and powerful American advocates of this style of Christian thinking, to lecture at Harvard.
The liberal professor Julius Seelye Bixler, who introduced Reinhold Niebuhr, then a professor at Union Seminary in New York, presented an interesting contrast to Niebuhr. Bixler, in a characteristically relaxed mood, calmly smoking his Meerschaum pipe and rocking in his chair, was the picture of complacent liberalism. Niebuhr, standing tall and vigorous in the prime of his life, like Elijah on Mt. Carmel, pronounced denunciations on Harvard and other forms of liberalism in no uncertain accents.
Neibuhr said emphatically and repeatedly that Jesus Christ is no mere man. Ninety-five percent of that audience was confident that Jesus was nothing more than a man. They were told time and again in that hour’s address that Jesus Christ was God, no mere man. This early champion of neoorthodoxy, who had himself come out of liberalism, was denouncing liberalism in terms that sounded like pure, historic orthodoxy.
If one left after that address, he would have thought that John Calvin redivivus had been heard on Harvard campus that morning. If, however, one remained for the question period, he would have known otherwise. A student immediately arose and said, “Professor Niebuhr, you repudiated the liberal notion that Jesus was merely a man. You said that he was God. What do you mean by calling Jesus Christ God?” Niebuhr explained that he did not mean “ontic deity.” Christ was not eternal. He was not a member of the everlasting Trinity.
Niebuhr was now repudiating orthodoxy as sharply as he had repudiated liberalism in the address. Definitely, he did not believe that Christ was mere man and, equally certainly, he did not believe that Christ was God in the proper meaning of that word. The Council of Chalcedon in A.D. 451 had declared that Christ was “truly God and truly man.” Niebuhr expressly disagreed with Chalcedon by name.
Liberalism we can understand and orthodoxy we can understand. Niebuhr had rejected both. How were we to understand him? That is precisely what the next questioner asked: “What do you mean by ‘God’?” Niebuhr answered with a word he often used later in print—“symbol.” The word ‘‘God’’ did not mean ‘‘God,” it meant “symbol.” The word “man” meant “man.” The word “God” meant “symbol.” If anyone at that address understood the meaning of “symbol,” it was not I. The term as used that morning, and on later occasions, defies understanding. We know what it does not mean. It does not mean ‘‘man’’ and does not mean “God.” What it does mean I doubt that Reinhold Niebuhr knew. This is what I mean by putting “faith” and “justification” in italics. There is no way of knowing what is the object of faith or the basis of justification.
Of course, the question that wasn’t raised that morning (because there was no point to raising it) was, “What do you mean by ‘symbol’?” I’m sure that if someone had asked the question there would have been no answer, unless “symbol” was a symbol for symbol. But no one asked. One sensed that we were at the end of the line. Niebuhr had gone as far as he would. He had clearly repudiated liberalism. He had clearly repudiated orthodoxy. He had unclearly and utterly ambiguously affirmed neoorthodoxy. John Murray once called neoorthodoxy “The Theology of Ambiguity.”
Obviously, these theologians mean to say something, but the something they are meaning to say eludes us. Not only with respect to Christ, but obviously with respect to faith in Christ. If one has no clear idea of who Christ, the object of faith, is, how can one have any clear idea of what faith is? The essence of this school of thought has been the “paradox.” Gordon Clark has referred to paradox as a ‘‘charley-horse between the ears.” Whether neoorthodox theologians are suffering from that kind of mental paralysis or not, the concept itself does indeed produce a charley-horse between the ears of anybody who tries to comprehend its meaning. He simply cannot make heads or tails of anything expressed as an absolute paradox. If Niebuhr did understand what he meant, certainly no one else could.
I know there are some readers who would say immediately you cannot call Paul Tillich a neoorthodox theologian. But his myths are not essentially different from the paradoxes and pointers of others. His concept of justification is pure paradox.
The formula which he and others use is a quotation from Martin Luther, Simul justus, simul peccator. Martin Luther, however, meant something quite different. For the Reformer, when a person was justified by faith, he still remained in a certain sense a peccator, or sinner. That is, he was not perfectly sanctified, and he never could entirely escape the power of sin during his entire life. But Luther did believe in the vicarious sacrifice of Christ, which removed the guilt of the believer’s sin, and in the in-dwelling of the Holy Spirit by regeneration, which broke the back of sin, even though it did not eradicate it fully. In Luther’s understanding, while the justified person remained a sinner and imperfect, he was not a sinner in the same way that he was before his conversion. He was acquitted of his guilt, endued with Christ’s righteousness, and empowered by the Spirit to pursue righteousness, not perfectly but genuinely, as he never did prior to his conversion. So he was not the identical peccator after his being declared just that he was before. But in the neoorthodox connotation, that’s precisely the case.
The way Tillich shows this is in his essay, “The Shaking of the Foundations,” when he talks about the woman of the streets who washed the Savior’s feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. Tillich does not say in so many words what he means by the justification of that woman. It is clear, however, that her faith in Christ made her justus, even though she remained the same peccator (in this case prostitute) that she was before. According to Martin Luther, this interpretation would be the heresy of antinomianism against which he wrote two vehement tracts. When Christ forgave the prostitute of John 8 (as He will forgive any prostitute as soon as she repents), He said to her, “Neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more.” If she continues in her prostitution, she is no forgiven Christian. She is not justified. It is obvious from this essay that Tillich has no such understanding in mind. While he cannot bring himself to say that the woman continued in her prostitution (just as multitudes of others may continue in that and other recognized sins that the Bible denounces, practitioners of which the Bible says shall never inherit the kingdom of God), in Tillich’s opinion this woman, even though she continued in her prostitution, was nevertheless just or righteous before God and an heir to eternal life.
That is the reason I put ‘‘justification’’ in italics. It is not the biblical doctrine. It is not a meaningful doctrine. It is an absolutely paradoxical simul justus simul peccator, which does not convey the meaning of the Bible at all. So we must say about neoorthodox theology at this very crucial point, that, though it has the form of sound words, it lacks the truth and the power of them.
The “minus works” in the formula needs some explanation, lest I do a very great injustice to the neo-orthodox proponents. Many of them, such as Barth and Tillich, have exhibited real courage and devotion to the Christian religion. Both of them virtually laid their lives on the line in their resistance to Adolph Hitler. Both of them were driven out of Germany because of their opposition to the Fuehrer.
Nevertheless, in their teaching and thinking, works are not necessary. They are advisable, and many of the adherents of this school practice them and exhibit them sometimes in heroic dimensions.
Notwithstanding, they are not essential. This was Tillich’s point in respect to the prostitute. Paul Tillich did not, of course, recommend prostitution. Tillich would believe that the woman would have done better if she had given up her prostitution. He would maintain, however, that she was justified whether she continued in it or not. That is what we mean by the “minus.” The works are not necessary. A person may be justified while being without them. Not necessarily lacking in them, he may nevertheless possibly lack them without his justification being questioned for a moment.
An illustration of this point I take from an autobiographical story of a minister in the Netherlands, whose name I have forgotten, whose action is a true expression of the neoorthodox mentality. He was approached by a prostitute on his way home one night. He relates that he refused her invitation and went on home. His comment was, “It would not have made any difference if I had gone with her. My relation to Jesus Christ is between Him and me, and not affected by my relation to any other person.”
The neo-orthodox doctrine of justification by faith is no sound view of this indispensable doctrine. While it honors the formula of justification by faith, and even emphasizes it, and considers itself biblical in its position, nevertheless its conception of justification plus its conception of faith is quite unbiblical. That is not to say a neo-orthodox theologian or person was never saved, but no person will ever be saved on the basis of such a formula. Furthermore, the antinomian strain in the doctrine, even if it were orthodox, would vitiate it also. This is truly a strange theological movement, and this particular formula is utterly characteristic in its oddity. There is a formal emphasis on the doctrines of the Reformation, coupled with a strange eviscerating of their content.
The Antinomian Way of Justification
Faith → Justification – Works
In the antinomian view of justification, the formula is the same as the preceding [see “The Neoorthodox Way of Justification”], except that the italics have disappeared. Faith brings justification minus works.
We are dealing now with a group of people who, apart from this doctrine, are genuinely orthodox. They have no doubt whatever that justification is by faith alone. And when they speak of justification, they mean the remission of sins by the shed blood of Jesus Christ, the incarnate second person of the Godhead, who was born of the Virgin Mary, fulfilled the law on our behalf, was delivered up for our offenses, and rose again bodily for our justification.
Likewise, faith in Him is of the orthodox variety. One must truly believe that He is the divine Son of God and Savior of the world. This is an orthodox faith, which professes Christ alone as the sole basis of salvation. These people preach Christ and Him crucified. There can be no doubt of it, and we are happy to give them full credit for their unwavering allegiance to the inspiration of Holy Scripture and to the supernaturalism of biblical redemption.
Their “minus’’ is not against the person of Christ directly, or the nature of justifying faith directly, it has to do with the works that must follow a justified state.
Antinomians, unlike the liberals, stress that Christ is indispensable for salvation. They are not do-it-yourself theologians by any means. They insist that faith is absolutely necessary for salvation. And they mean by “faith,” faith in the merits of Jesus Christ, the divine Son of God, the vicarious sacrifice for the sins of the world.
Insistent as they are on the proper conception of faith, they recognize that that is not itself sufficient. One must know more than what faith is; one must actually exercise it. These people usually stress the difference between a mere theoretical knowledge of the Lord and awareness of who He is. They know that faith must have the element Martin Luther stressed so much: the fiducial. Faith must be actual trust.
Theologians of this school often use an analogy that shows the difference between an awareness of the reliability of something and an actual commitment of oneself to it. A person may recognize a certain chair as sturdily built and quite capable of holding his weight; but until the person sits in that chair he cannot be said to have truly proper and thorough faith in the chair. A person may believe that he can walk across Niagara Falls on a tightrope. Until he starts walking, say these antinomians, his faith in his ability and the trustworthiness of the rope is not demonstrated. So they will insist that no amount of orthodox Christology can save anybody. No amount of historical faith can justify anybody. A person must indeed know who Christ is and even believe that He is able to save. Until, however, that person commits himself to Christ alone for his salvation, he is not, according to this school of thought, truly a justified person. So, in that matter, they are surely biblical and evangelical.
The same may be said of their doctrine of justification. Again, no italics. They are as far removed from neo-orthodoxy as they are from the self-justification of liberalism. They insist that Christ is a vicarious sacrifice, who by His mediatorial death provided satisfaction for God’s righteousness. He bestows on the person who really trusts in Him the cancellation of all his guilt and, to the same, His acquired righteousness.
It is a minor defect in these antinomians that they do not adequately stress the positive element in justification. There is a one-sided, heavy emphasis on the negative remission quality of justification. They are fond of their expression of justification: “just as if I had never sinned.” They recognize the full cancellation of the guilt of sin, but are not quite so aware that the righteousness of Jesus Christ is equally essential as a part of justification. They do not deny it. Indeed they teach it. They simply do not adequately appreciate and stress it. But this is a minor criticism at most. On the whole, antinomians are quite biblical, evangelical, orthodox, and Reformational in respect to faith and justification up to a certain point.
That “up to a certain point” has to do with the “minus works.” Why do I say ‘‘up to a certain point’’? I did not mean by that expression that antinomians are thoroughly sound up to the point of works, but rather that their soundness with respect to faith and justification goes as far as possible with a defective view of works. That defective view of works has a retroactive effect on the nature of the faith and, ultimately, of the justification. In fact, it utterly vitiates both. So while I am endorsing the antinomian’s affirmation of an essentially evangelical view of faith and justification, I am here qualifying it in anticipation of the defective view of works. Though I praise the antinomians for these first two parts of the formula, it is in a qualified sense of taking them at face value. Not even at this point am I saying that their affirmation will stand up under an analysis of their view of justification by faith as a whole.
What, then, is the meaning of the “minus works”? As in the neo-orthodox formula, it does not mean that the adherents of this school are opposed to good works. It does not mean that it encourages people to do bad works or to regard works as something that they can casually neglect. On the contrary, they themselves are often zealots for good works. They always stress the advisability of good works. Good works are absolutely necessary for rewards. These preachers mightily urge people to abound in good works so that they may have an abundant reward in the world to come. Abounding in the works of the Lord, they teach, promotes a sense of blessedness and joy in the Lord even in this world. The absence of good works will disturb our fellowship with God. As long as they are lacking fellowship with the Savior, it is impossible to have peace, joy, or fruitfulness. If this continues, there will be embarrassment at the bema (judgment seat of Christ). In other words, antinomians usually enthusiastically urge Christians to do many, many, many good works in the service of the Lord Jesus Christ, and confidently promise them that they will receive a heavenly reward for every one of them, as well as present overflowing joy in the Lord. “Minus” here does not mean a negative attitude toward works. These antinomians are often quite positive in their emphasis and their practice.
If antinomians are so enthusiastic about doing good works, why do I put a “minus” before the works in their formula? It seems totally out of place and profoundly misleading—even unfair—on the surface of it. It is not out of place and it is not misleading, but it does have to be understood accurately. What I mean is that the antinomian defends the proposition that there can be a justification by faith without any works whatsoever. They do not recommend such a life, but they do defend its possibility. Just as I diagrammed it here, so they think that it is possible for a person to be justified by faith, even though, alas, he does no good works at all (in spite of all of their exhortations to the contrary). Some antinomians sing:
Free from the Law, O blessed condition, I can sin as I please and still have remission.
This meets with a very dim reception from many of these teachers. But they cannot deny the proposition any more than they can encourage that way of stating their convictions. They do believe that the Christian is free from the law, and if he does sin as he pleases he still will have remission of his sins, if he does indeed trust in Jesus Christ. They are prepared to die for that proposition. In other words, a “minus” here is utterly indispensable to their way of thinking.
A few summers ago I was teaching a church history survey course to Campus Crusade staffers at Ft. Collins, Colorado. Several times in that survey, antinomianism was mentioned. After class one morning a student brought me a copy of Dr. Charles Ryrie’s book on discipleship. He asked me to read a particular chapter and tell the class if that taught antinomianism. Knowing the tendency of Scofieldian dispensationalism to antinomianism, I was still disappointed to find that my friend, Dr. Ryrie, one of the soundest of the dispensationalists, was guilty of antinomianism.
Incidentally, in that chapter, Dr. Ryrie mentions in a footnote that he had some discussion with Dr. James Packer and Dr. John Stott on this matter of the role of works. Packer and Stott take the orthodox Reformational position that faith must be accompanied by works. If Jesus Christ is to be one’s Savior, He must also, and at the same time, be one’s Lord. Dr. Ryrie heartily recommends that when a person accepts Christ as Savior he also accept Him as Lord, but he defends the possibility of Christ’s being Savior without being Lord. Consequently, in that footnote, Dr. Ryrie refers to Packer and Stott as “lordship” teachers (as if “saviorhood” teachers were sound). So if the antinomian is not going to insist that works are indispensable, then he comes under the indictment of a formula with “minus works,” and that is a fatal fault.
I later met Dr. Ryrie and we talked for about 15 minutes, which was all we could spare at the time. He convinced me, even in that brief conversation, that he never meant to be antinomian. He seems to realize how fatal this doctrine is. We agreed at that time to have further correspondence. When I retumed home shortly afterwards, I received from Dr. Ryrie a copy of his book on grace, in which he had underlined a number of sentences emphasizing the importance of the law in the Christian life. I wrote him a five-page letter expressing my deep appreciation for the parts he had underlined. I told him that I understood why he felt those statements freed him from the charge of antinomianism. At the same time, I pointed out that they did not do that because, enthusiastic as he was, he did not make the works of obedience necessary. They were highly advisable and very profitable. They were still, after all Dr. Ryrie’s statements orally and in writing, optional acts. He did not remove the “minus.” I pled with him to do so, but though that letter was written years ago, I have not yet received a response. I draw no conclusion from the silence, but neither does the silence answer my charges, which I have to repeat here about a dear friend who represents a whole school of thought. While proponents of that school do not want to be antinomian, they are, succeeding without trying.
If they will show that the person to be justified by faith must have his faith accompanied by good works, then I should be very happy to go immediately into print and indicate my personal gratification and endorsement of their view of justification. Until that time, I can only say of Dr. Ryrie (and of all dispensationalists, because he is certainly one of the finest of them), and of the Scofield Bible in its 1909 version, and even in its 1967 revision, that their doctrine is antinomian. It is noticeable that the revision addresses the problem more, and in a certain sense tones down the harshness of the earlier form of statement, but it does not remove the antinomianism of Scofieldian dispensationalism.
I also mention this episode in my Primer on Dispensationalism. I use it here because not only does it show antinomianism in an outstanding Bible teacher of great influence, but it is characteristic of the whole dispensational theology from J. N. Darby to Zane Hodges. Dr. Hodges’ recent Gospel Under Siege should be entitled Antinomianism Under Siege. In my Wrongly Dividing the Word of Truth [Wolgemuth and Hyatt, 1991, but currently out of print] I demonstrate more thoroughly that dispensationalism, past and present, teaches antinomianism, and therein denies justification by faith alone.
Until dispensationalism repudiates its antinomianism, it is going to have to labor under that awful indictment of cutting out the heart of Christianity by a fatally defective view of justification, which is the article by which the church or theology or the individual must stand or fall. No amount of other excellencies can compensate for it. Just as a human being may be healthy in some ways except one fatal ailment, so it takes a lack of only one essential to destroy a theology.
My favorite illustration of this mentality I heard from a well-known American evangelical who died some years ago. I trust that before he died he saw the fallacy in this episode. This story is true, and it illustrates antinomianism very pointedly because of the relative triviality of the offense involved.
The story is this: this man, before he was converted, was a hobo. After his conversion, he was so conscientious that he wrote to the various train lines on which he had, as a hobo, stolen rides, asking if he could reimburse them for his thefts of free passage. They invariably responded by saying they had no established rates for such travel and forgave him. That shows how seriously he took his Christian life. He got a job, after his conversion, in an electric light company in Akron, Ohio. One time while working for that company, he stole an electric light bulb, took it home, and screwed it up in the ceiling of his room. At night, when he would get down on his knees and pray, he would often look toward heaven and see that stolen light bulb. Finally, it pained him so much that he simply could stand it no longer. He unscrewed the bulb and returned it to its owner. This was his final comment on that episode: “If I had not returned that light bulb, I would have gone to heaven anyway, but I would not have been happy along the way.”
There is your “minus works.’’ Minus very, very little work. Minus a five-cent electric light bulb. Minus next to nothing. But, nevertheless, minus a good work of doing what is a manifest duty of a Christian person: providing things honestly in the sight of all, not being a thief. A man who steals a five-cent light bulb, or embezzles $5 million from a bank, if he does not return it, is a thief. One is a bigger thief than the other, but both are thieves. If one takes property that does not belong to him and does not return it while it is in his power to do so, he is a thief.
What is the standing of thieves? The Bible is utterly unambiguous on that subject. Thieves, it says, shall not inherit the kingdom of God. When the rich young ruler asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life, Christ told him in no uncertain terms, “You know the commandments.” Christ then mentioned some of the decalogue, including the eighth commandment. A person could not inherit eternal life unless he was about the business of keeping the commandments. Christ was not saying that he would be saved by any merit in keeping the commandments. He simply answered a question as to how a person would inherit eternal life, and made it clear that there was no inheriting eternal life without keeping the commandments. Christ makes no exceptions. “Thou shalt not steal” is one of those commandments, and a person who is a thief is a breaker, not a keeper, of that commandment.
You say, ‘‘Yes, but the man may repent.” Yes, I grant you that he may repent, and if he repents then he is no longer a thief. If he is a Christian who was overtaken in a fault, he can be restored. But one option is not open. He cannot continue in his thievery and be an heir of eternal life. Thieves cannot inherit the kingdom of God. So our friend was utterly out of line with Holy Scripture when he said that though he was a thief he would have gone to heaven anyway. He would not have been happy on the way, but neither would he have been on the way. Thieves are not going to be happy along the way. He was correct about that. But thieves are not going to heaven either. About that he was fatally mistaken.
Even a favorite hymn can be misleading. It is true that “there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.” It is also true that there is no other way to be in Jesus but to trust and obey.
The light bulb is an extreme example cited to make the point most obviously that, however refined, antinomianism is still antinomianism, and a fatal error. Often much more glaring cases are offered. We hear some antinomians saying that a true believer dying drunk in bed with a prostitute and a pot of stolen gold under the bed would be immediately escorted to heaven by holy angels. They are not referring to a godly person who had suddenly, on a single occasion, lapsed into such delinquency. They mean that a true believer who lived his whole life that way would go—without reward, of course—to heaven. And he would have been ‘‘unhappy along the way” there. But to heaven he would go. I heard one evangelist tell of a man like that whom no amount of divine chastening could correct. Did that prove he was not a Christian? Not at all! What happened? God took him home to remove the scandal!
What most clearly shows that the absence of works is utterly impossible for a justified person is the relationship of works to faith. That faith which justifies is a working faith. If justification is by faith, it must be a real, genuine faith. Everybody who reads this knows we are talking about real, not about counterfeit, faith. The fact that the hat in the window can be bought for $20 does not mean that it can be bought with a counterfeit $20 bill. The fact that justification may be by faith does not mean that it can be bought by a counterfeit faith. A non-working faith is no faith at all, a counterfeit faith indeed. It is conclusive evidence that the person is not a believer that he does not pursue holiness, without which no one shall see the Lord. Those who are Christians take up their crosses daily and follow Him. Only those who abide in His Word are His disciples (John 8:31). If a person does not take up his cross, does not abide in God’s Word, and does not deny himself, then he simply is not following Jesus Christ. He is not a true believer; he is not an heir to eternal life; he is not going to inherit the kingdom of God.
The classic passage is James 2:21: “Faith without works is dead.” James does not say that faith without works is sick. He does not say that faith without works is not very healthy. He does not say that faith without works is dying. He says bluntly that faith without works is dead. It simply does not exist. Christ said the same thing in the parable of the vine and the branches. That which does not bear fruit does not abide in Him. It is not in Christ, the vine, if it is not bearing the fruits of good works.
So we sadly conclude that antinomianism is another gospel, which is not the gospel. It is an implicit denial of justification by faith because it does not require the working faith that alone brings justification. Without a true faith, there is no union with Christ, and without Christ there is no justification. Faith without works is dead, and justification without faith is dead. If there are any “antinomians” who truly believe in justification by faith alone, then let them deny their antinomianism and join with all true evangelicals.
Roman Catholicism
Faith + Works → Justification
This was the great issue of the Reformation. Romanism and Protestantism were agreed on the other great essentials of faith: the Trinity, deity of Christ, His vicarious death, even the necessity of faith in Christ. The great and crucial difference came in answer to the question, “How is the sinner justified by Christ?” Romanism said, “By our works which flow from faith in Christ.” Protestantism said, “By faith in Christ alone.”
As you can see from the formula, Rome has all the right ingredients of justification: faith, works, justification. No italics. No minuses.
Note the “faith.” This means that the sinner must believe in the Christ who was incarnate by the Virgin Mary and was a sacrifice for our sins. Rome is quite orthodox here. Though her faith is too purely intellectualistic, and not clearly fiducial, it is, as liberalism’s is not and neoorthodoxy’s is not, directed to the one and only true object.
Rome’s “works,” too, are essentially sound. They include obedience to the Ten Commandments and the new commandment of Christ as well. There is no essential error in this area. To be sure, Rome adds duties not in the Bible, such as confession to a priest, conforming to a penitential system, observance of holy days; but what the Bible does require, she, too, apart from Sabbath observance, also requires. Rome’s “justification” (“second justification’’) is fatally faulty. The Bible’s justification is a reckoning or imputing of the righteousness of Christ to the believer. Rome’s justification is an infusing of righteousness into the believing worker who thereby becomes righteous. It was the desperate, but futile, effort of the monk Martin Luther to achieve justification this way that led him to realize that justification is a gift from God and not an achievement of man. He realized that no one could ever achieve the justification that Romanism mistakenly taught as Christian doctrine. Rome’s most obvious error, implicit in her false doctrine of justification, is the position of the works before and not after justification. There is no “minus” before works; that is good. But there are works before justification, and that is fatally bad. Works have become the foundation of justification. How so? Justification is by faith, says Rome, attempting to be loyal to Scripture. Faith is the radix or root of justification according to her Council of Trent. That means that true faith leads to good works (which is a correction of the antinomian error); but, alas, the good works become the title to eternal life.
In other words, through Christ the believer is enabled to achieve his own justification. That teaching is absolutely false in two ways. First, it depreciates the perfection of the atonement. By insisting on our works as the title to justification, it denies it to Christ’s work alone. Second, supposing that our works could ever entitle us to eternal life grossly overestimates our most perfect works—if we could do such, which we cannot. Christ, in the parable of the worker in the field who then serves his master in the house (Luke 17:7ff.), accentuates this point. If a man served his heavenly Master perfectly all the time he should say, “I am an unprofitable servant. I have only done my duty.” Man’s obligation is to be perfect. For so being, he would not even deserve thanks, much less a reward, not to mention an eternal reward. Yet Rome, turning her back on the all-sufficiency of the work of Christ for everlasting felicity, trusts in the works of men who could not earn thanks if they were perfect. (Incidentally, if he as a person thought he were perfect, he would, as John said, deceive himself and could not pray, as his Lord tells him, “Forgive us our debts.”)
So all Rome’s error is in putting works before justification, but how fatal the error! The theological cart is hopelessly before the theological horse. Neither works nor justification can function. Meritorious works are no works and an achieved justification is no justification.
“Evangelical Catholic” (that contemporary expression) is a contradiction in terms. If evangelical, one cannot be (Roman) Catholic; if Catholic, one cannot be evangelical. Is a Catholic evangelical a happy inconsistency? It is an inconsistency, but not a happy one. A person never has a right to be inconsistent. If a Roman Catholic who is evangelical sees that he is inconsistent, then he must, of course, stop his inconsistency. An inconsistent person is a dishonest person. He is saying one thing and doing another thing. In this particular case, a Roman Catholic, by virtue of his affiliation, says that he believes justification is brought about by the works he does. At the same time, he professes to be an evangelical, which means that he believes justification is not brought about by works, but purely by the work of Jesus Chris and is received by faith alone. So an evangelical Catholic is a dishonest Catholic or a dishonest evangelical. Either his evangelicalism is true and his Catholicism is false, or his Catholicism is true and his evangelicalism is false. He must make up his mind. He cannot say both of those things at the same time. Let him decide whether he is indeed Roman Catholic and repudiate his evangelicalism, which may God forbid, or let him decide that he is truly evangelical and repudiate his Catholicism, which may God grant. A Benedictine monk heard me deliver a half-hour address on justification following the formulae of this booklet. After the address, he said, ‘‘Dr. Gerstner, I’d like you to know that I agree with everything you said.” I was delighted and asked if that included my critique of his own church’s doctrine and defense of the evangelical. He said that it did.
“Good,” I replied. “Then you will join with us.”
‘No,” he surprisingly answered.
“Then,” said I, ‘‘you really don’t agree that your church is in error and evangelicalism is the true gospel, do you?”
“Yes, I do,” was his even more surprising reply, “but we have changed!’’
That surprised me even more, and I reminded him that Roman Catholicism was supposed to be “semper idem” (always the same) and her dogmas “infallible” and “irreformable.” He responded simply, but apparently puzzled, ‘‘I will have to think about that.’’
Every ‘‘evangelical Catholic” will have to think about that. If he does, he will have to be one or the other. He cannot honestly be both. May he come with evangelicalism saying, ‘‘The just shall live by faith.”
Evangelicalism
Faith → Justification + Works
There is the gospel in its glory, or rather in His (Christ’s) glory. Strictly speaking, you see, justification is not even by faith alone—it is by Christ alone. What is meant by saying sola fide (by faith alone) is not that our God-given faith can save (where works cannot), but that faith unites with Christ who alone saves. Sola fide = solo Christo! The faith, because it unites with Christ, justifies immediately by virtue of that union. Though works operate at the same time that faith does (the plus sign refers to distinction, not separation), they are placed after justification because they contribute nothing to justification. It is Rome’s placing works before justification that destroys justification and makes it even impossible.
When my daughter was 13, I was discussing justification with her. I told her that I taught a course at the seminary on Catholicism and the Council of Trent. It was very technical at points, and some of the debates were very close-grained and academic. A 13-year-old could easily get lost in them, I told her. But, I said to her (and to you), the issue is at heart extremely simple. It could be stated this way:
Who saves Judy? Is it Judy and Jesus? Or is it Jesus only?
I said to her (and I say to you), Judy, if you get in on the act you will be lost. It is Jesus only or there is no justification for Judy—or you.
But you ask, isn’t Judy supposed to be “in on the act,” that is, doing good works? Indeed she must be, or she is an antinomian and all is lost that way. One can lose justification many ways, but there is only one way he can have it. I told my daughter that she must be following in Christ’s footsteps, seeking to obey Him from the heart in all things without ever for a moment thinking there is any merit in anything she does.
And He also told this parable to certain ones who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and viewed others with contempt ‘‘Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax-gatherer. The Pharisee stood and was praying thus to himself, ‘God, I thank thee that I am not like other men, swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax-gatherer. I fast twice a week; I pay tithes of all that I get.” But the tax-gather, standing some distance away, was even unwilling to lift up his eyes to heaven, but was beating his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful me, the sinner!” I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other (Luke 18:9–14).
The publican of whom Christ spoke could only cry out for mercy, but he “went down to his house justified.” Suppose he was 30 when he went down to his house justified, and lived, after returning all that he had stolen, another 50 years of exemplary Christian service. Suppose he went up to that temple and prayed again. It would be the same prayer: “God, be merciful to me, the sinner!”
Dear reader, I have briefly discussed the most important issue in the world today—or any day. How can a man be right with God? Every religion except Christianity teaches justification by works (of one kind or another). Only Christianity teaches justification by faith alone. Alas, many professed teachers of Christianity preach another gospel of justification, which is not another and will never justify anyone.
It is a matter of eternal life or eternal death that you know the truth that can make you free of sin. You cannot be saved without it. But you can be lost with it. That is, if you know but do not believe (with a working faith), you will be like the servant who knew the master’s will but did not do it. Therefore, he was beaten with ‘‘many stripes.’’
Truth is a dangerous possession. If you do not cleave to it, it will abhor you. Only the orthodox are saved, but none are so deep in hell as the orthodox (who have the truth when the truth does not have them). You are either the better or much the worse for having read this little book. If it only convinces you of your false ways and one true way, you are the wiser but none the better, and, therefore, are much the worse. If, however, you from the heart cry out, “God be merciful to me, the sinner!” you will put down this tract justified. And we shall rejoice together forever that to the one who does not work, but believes in Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is reckoned as righteousness (Rom. 4:5).
Amen and amen!
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