Tuesday, 2 January 2018

Justification: The Status of the Christian

By Steven A. Hein
When we lack the peace of God, we should turn to our peace with God. - Robert Horn 
God does not justify us because we are worthy, but justifying us makes us worthy. - Thomas Watson 
Nobody has understood Christianity who does not understand ... the word "justified." - John R. W. Stott  
If the call of God can be seen as a journey to our final heavenly home, it ought also be seen as a journey that continually traverses the agony and the ecstasy of the cross of Christ. Our sojourn through life involves a continual tension between what we experience in daily living about who and what we are, and what we understand by faith. It is the tension between the dual realities of sin and grace: between living as a sin-corrupted citizen of this fallen creation, yet a righteous member of the kingdom of God. Faith requires a vision by which we might become reconciled to the experiences of living in a fallen creation. And in the cross of Christ, that vision can be found.

Our vision of the manner in which God is redemptively at work in the world and in our life can be helpfully described by the idea of  "Salvific worldliness" as best seen and climaxed in the cross of Christ. The world of our experience takes in the shame, agony and seeming abandonment of God in the cross. We see evil openly at work producing its fruit of injustice and suffering in the One who hangs between two thieves. Yet, to faith is given a vision of the merciful Creator who turns the tables on the powers of evil to accomplish His saving purpose. Oddly, we notice, however, that He does not banish evil. Rather, He uses it to accomplish its own defeat. An incredible exchange is made. God places the world's evil on the righteous Jesus, and His righteousness is imputed to us. A sham atonement for trumped-up sins becomes a real atonement for the sins of the world. Through the world's greatest injustice, God justifies the world.

God's Word provides for us a saving picture of the cross, and faith receives it. It also bestows the righteousness of the cross - and faith receives that as well. Our sense experience of the cross tells us one thing, our faith another. Our vision of the cross embraces the tension of both. And what corresponds to tension for us, is method for God. Salvific worldliness is not simply the mystery of an infinite God at work with finite means, it is the tension of a holy and gracious God accomplishing His saving purposes in a fallen creation enlisting even corrupted means.

As God's supreme call of His Son to the cross presents us a vision with a tension between what is open to experience and what must be held by faith, so also does living in God's call as His adopted sons and daughters. Christian life in the old creation is God's call to the full range of possible experiences one can encounter from being in the world together with the full inheritance of God's salvation. But neither our old world experiences of our fallen existence nor the blessings of Christ given to faith cancel the other out. Perhaps Luther's "in, with and under" language may be appropriate here. We hold our divine citizenship and all of God's blessings of salvation in, with and under our temporal citizenship and all that its fallen character can bring us. What flows from our temporal citizenship is fully given to our senses, but what flows from our divine citizenship is given to faith. The life of Christ climaxed in the cross is the ultimate expression of this tension. As we have been called to live in Christ, that tension which is penultimate frames out the big picture of Christian life.

Two things must be clarified, however, about our vision of Christian life in the cross of Christ. First, we must keep in mind that the life we are describing is temporary and provisional. Life in the cross is lived with an Easter faith in the One who suffered and died, rose again and ascended to the glory of the Father. The suffering servant is not the exalted Lord who is poised to crash our experience with the full splendor of our inheritance. The empty tomb anchors our faith with confidence about a better day that is coming when the inheritance of faith becomes the life of experience. Salvation for God's children who are living in the cross is now, and not yet. Second, the tension between the life of worldly experience and the truth of faith is encountered in the daily living of the believer by oscillating back and forth between them. Sometimes we are captivated by the impact of living as citizens of this fallen world, only then to be thrown back onto the promises of faith.

Christian Self-Identity

How do the contours of salvific worldliness in the cross of Christ reveal who and what we are in Christ? Each of us is a unique person, created in the image of God, yet corrupted by sin inherited from the fall of Adam. To inquire about Christian self-identity is to explore that self that Christ has recreated by His death and resurrection through our baptism. Christ has carried out saving work for us, to us and in us - saving work that has profoundly affected our identity.

There are two basic questions that anyone can ask about self-identity, and most people begin asking them during adolescence, that time of increased self-awareness. Nevertheless, they continually press for satisfactory answers throughout life. Our sense of self-identity is tied to our answers of these questions:
  1. Who am I? and 
  2. What am I? 
The answers to these questions form the basic or foundational features of our identity. If we have no answers, we may well develop an identity crisis. If we do not have satisfactory answers, we definitely have an identity problem that must be solved for life to have positive meaning. For the Christian, the question of self-identity is tied to God's address in His Word. His answers provide the meaning for what it means to be a child of God and a member of Christ's body, the church. Christian life revolves around God's work to integrate His redemptive work into our self-identity. He intends to weave the fabric of His saving purpose in Christ into all of the individual characteristics that make each of us unique.

With this in mind, Luther combined the above two self-identity questions and paradoxically described the Christian self as a simultaneous sinner/saint. Thus "a Christian man is righteous and a sinner at the same time, holy and profane, an enemy of God and a child of God." [1] In this article I want to probe the rich significance of this paradox and what it reveals about the kind of people we are as God's children in Christ.

The "Who am I" question addresses the issue of our status. It is an inquiry about our acceptability and place in community. Am I a person who counts? Do I have standing? Can I be loved and accepted just as I am? Are my places and acceptability secure or, if not, what does it take to make them secure? These questions are very important. Our God is a multi-personal God who in Himself exists in personal relationship. He created us as a reflection of Himself, personal beings designed to live in significant relationship and community with Himself and other similar created beings. As God is a community of love in Himself, He created us to be joyfully fulfilled by community in love relationships, dependent and grounded in His infinite love. Human beings are fundamentally relational creatures reflecting a relational God.

The person who sincerely asks, "Who am I" knows on the gut-feeling level how important this question is. It addresses our deepest, most crucial, need to belong; to belong significantly and securely in relationships where we may be accepted as we are and have meaningful personal impact. To have such a status is truly to have life. Without such a status we just exist - fragmented, cut off and alone. As fallen image bearers in rebellion against our Maker, people are bent upon finding or achieving acceptable status in every quarter except where it may be found. None seek after God, the One to whom we were made to belong. And, in a sense, no wonder! He is a holy and righteous God, and we are corrupted sinners who cannot stand or belong under the demands of His Justice. Moreover, our sinful self wants nothing of a dependent community under His lordship. Amazingly, however, Christ has sought us out, made us His own, and we now bear His name.

So who am I, as a Christian? Luther said that we all have the status of saints. The word saint literally means "a holy or righteous one." Luther's point was that all who have been brought by the Spirit into a saving faith relationship with Christ have a righteous, blameless standing with God. Christians have become citizens of the kingdom of God, members of the body of Christ, adopted sons and daughters in the family of God. God has given us full standing in the economy of His redemptive community. We have secured status, for we now belong to God.

Justified Sainthood 

This standing or status is ours because we have received God's full and complete justification through faith in Christ. We are justified because Christ has fully paid for the guilt of our sin on the cross. Though our status was that of a guilty sinner, Christ canceled our debt and, therefore, God declared us to be holy, innocent and righteous for the sake of Christ's atonement. God has declared us to be innocent. Christians have received this gift (grace) through a Spirit wrought faith in baptism, or in the preaching of this Word of grace. We have a holy and just status: we are saints of God.

Perhaps God's work of justification by which we have saintly status can be clarified in the following manner. The Scriptures address our justification from three important vantage points. First, and most importantly, justification is described from the perspective of its appropriation by God. In this context, the significance of Christ's universal atonement is the focus. God reconciled the whole world of sinners to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them (2 Cor. 5:19). He has declared all sinners to be innocent and righteous, forgiven for the sake of Christ's all-sufficient death for the penalty of sin. God has appropriated the status of sainthood, perfect righteousness and acceptability for the whole world in Christ's saving death and resurrection.

Second, we encounter God's justification in the context of its revelation and bestowal upon people. Justification - saintly status - is revealed and brought to specific individual sinners through the proclaimed gospel and the administered sacraments. We have no direct access by our own reasoning or perceptual capacities to the drama of the cross. The events of Calvary took place almost two thousand years ago, and we were not there. Moreover, even if we had personally witnessed them, all we would have seen was the shame and agony of One dying an ugly criminal's death, seemingly abandoned by God. With the powers of reason and perception, the cross seems like another pathetic picture of the silence and abandonment of God. The cross simply looks like another example of the stranglehold that evil has on the old fallen creation. The enormous battle with the powers of sin and death was hidden. The great exchange where Jesus took on our sin and we are reckoned with His righteousness took place on the other side of the interface with eternity. If we are to know anything about this event as the saving event that rescues our destiny from death and destruction, then God must crash our existence with such a disclosure. And in the gospel He has and He does.

The gospel is God's power unto salvation (Rom. 1:16). Through this saving Word, God declares sinners forgiven, holy saints, loved and accepted just as they are, on account of Christ's atonement. The gospel brings us to the cross of Christ over time and eternity and we hear God's voice speaking to us: "Sinner, I declare that you are forgiven, holy, innocent and righteous. I love you and accept you just as you are. You are totally secure in My unconditional love, now and forever for the sake of the perfect sacrifice of My Son. You belong to Me and My family as My child forever."

The gospel is always God's announcement of His already existing acceptance and forgiveness of the sinner. Justification is not presented in the gospel as a future possibility or bargain that can be ours if we will fulfill certain conditions. It is not mere information about some "exciting offer" that God has for us as if we can take advantage of it by acting fast and doing something'to make it a reality. There is no "small print" connected with God's forgiveness in the cross of Christ which presents the "catch" about all the conditions we must first meet. It is His pronouncement of unconditional acceptance and righteousness from and on the basis of the atonement of Christ, coming to individual sinners in every age and place. Strictly speaking, the gospel does not present the offer or the possibility of forgiveness; it unconditionally proclaims it as an already given reality and bestows it on the sinner. God says, "You are forgiven!" Period! There are no "ifs," "ands" or "buts" that first require us to do something to make it so. We do not have to make a commitment, say a sincere prayer, give our heart to Jesus or clean up our lives. Nothing! "But, isn't this cheap grace?" some might ask. No, it is not cheap grace - it's absolutely, unconditionally free!

"Ah!" we may think. We get it now. We receive God's forgiveness and acceptance without conditions, but now that we have it, we must clean up our lives and bring forth good works to keep it. Is that it? No! The gospel presents God's forgiveness as an unconditional promise that He shall be gracious to us now and forever for the sake of Christ. He will never count our trespasses against us and will unconditionally accept us as His righteous and innocent child forever. He promises. The gospel announces and applies the righteousness of Christ to us for eternity. There are no conditions attached to His forgiveness and acceptance - not now, not ever! The gospel is the end of all works of the law and conditional thinking about God.

Also of crucial importance, the Scriptures explain how we can receive God's saving gift of justification. In this context, the Scriptures proclaim that we are justified through faith apart from all works or human initiative (Rom. 3:28). Such a faith that merely trusts in the verdict of the cross is itself a gift, created and preserved by the Holy Spirit through the gospel (1 Cor. 12:3). Through faith we personally grasp and cling to our innocent forgiven standing and live in it. Faith does not create this status, it receives it. We should not look upon faith as a meritorious virtue that God has demanded in order to be forgiven - as if God were saying, "I have some forgiveness for those who can muster some good believing in me. Have you got what it takes?" Faith is not our side of a bargain that then will bring us forgiveness and a God who will be gracious to us. Moreover, saving faith is not the same thing as making a commitment. God is not demanding faith as if to say, "If you will commit yourself to Me, I will commit Myself and My forgiveness to you." Faith is not committing to Christ, it is receiving His gracious commitment to us. Moreover, faith itself is the product of God's work and commitment to us through His Word of the gospel.

The gospel is not potentially saving information that we can take advantage of if we make the right decision or commitment. "It is the power of God for salvation" (Rom. 1:16). "Faith comes from hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ" (Rom. 10:17). The cross of Christ appropriated our righteousness before God; the gospel reveals. and bestows it; and through a Spirit-wrought faith, we personally receive and make it our own. Moreover, all this saving work (appropriation, revelation and bestowal, and reception) is God's activity. We are merely the recipients.

The Paradox of Faith 

Christians are sometimes confused about saving faith and how we come to possess it. The biblical record seems to confront the reader with a paradox. On the one hand, the Scriptures often treat the subject of faith from the standpoint of its necessity, In answer to his question, "What must I do to be saved?" Paul responded to the jailer at Philippi, "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you shall be saved. (Acts 16:31)." Here as elsewhere in Scripture, faith is commanded as something' for us to do. On the other hand, when the question is how can we so believe and trust in the promises of the gospel, Paul explains that it is "by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God" (Eph 2:8). How do we reconcile the biblical command to believe with the gift character of faith as a blessing from God?

The solution lies in the power of God's saving word. Here God speaks to the sinner His gracious word of forgiveness and acceptance and exhorts us to believe. Indeed, He commands it, as if to say, "Let there be faith!" And through His word and command, God creates what He commands when, where, and as He chooses. The Holy Spirit engenders our faith through the power of His word of forgiveness. God's love and forgiveness, which are bestowed upon us in the gospel, create the trust, the faith by which we receive and live in them.

"So faith comes from the hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ" (Rom. 10:17). No one comes to Christ and embraces His gift of righteousness but by God's drawing power.

Some Christians erroneously conclude that since God commands us to believe, that implies some ability on our part to respond accordingly. Such reasoning does not accord with the biblical witness. In Genesis we read that God created human beings by His word and command. This did not imply that somehow lifeless dust of the ground had an ability to become a human child of God. God did not come up to some piece of ground and ask if it would like to become a human being, nor did He present lifeless clay with all the exciting possibilities of what life could be like as a personal being and then extend an invitation for a commitment or decision to actualize the possibility. He simply said, "Let us make man ..." and it was so (Gen. 1:26). As it was with the old creation, so also with new life in Christ. The spiritually-lifeless sinner has no more ability to self-transform into a new creation in Christ than the dust had in the beginning to become a human being. Both instances provide examples of the awesome creative power of God's word when it is sent forth to accomplish His life-giving purposes.

In the very same way, He continually nourishes and builds up our trusting faith through the gospel in the word and sacrament as we feed on them. As with God's old creation, so also with new life in Christ. God creates and preserves through His Word. That Word is both the eternal Son of God and His creative command - "Let there be ..." or "Believe!" As with all gifts of God, they flow from His will and work, not ours. What God commands, He creates, and what He demands, He gives. He demands perfect righteousness to be His child and He freely gives that status in His gospel; and He commands faith in this promise and then creates it through His saving word.

Perhaps we can focus the genesis of faith in another way. The gospel can be thought of as the message of God's dying love and acceptance in the cross of Christ. Through His saving word He courts rebellious sinners who are alienated from Him and His love. It's something like the old story of John and Marsha. John loves Marsha and he is determined to have her. as his wife. She, however, thinks he is an absolute nerd and will have nothing to do with him. This does not faze John in the least, and he continues to shower her with loving actions and words. Then something mysterious happens in the story as it often does in real life; she "falls in love" with him. She did not plan on this happening. Moreover, no conscious decision was made on her part. Indeed, her discovery that she now does in fact love John comes as an incredible surprise to her. She is totally dumbfounded by the whole turn of events! We are not.

We, of course, know what happened to Marsha. It was the power of love at work that transformed her. It happens every day. In the magic of interpersonal relations, love has the power to beget love. No coercion or compulsion was present, but certainly no decision was involved either. Marsha's love was nurtured and brought forth by John. Moreover, it was no surprise to him; he intended that to happen right from the beginning. In the same way our Creator God, the gracious Lover of sinners, comes to rebellious humans through the gospel and woos them with His saving work and words of dying love and forgiveness. By the mysterious power of His Spirit through His loving Word, sinners "fall in trust" with their Creator/Redeemer, a trusting faith that then blossoms into a returning love. Marsha became John's wife in the story, and we rebellious sinners who have fallen into faith with the gracious God have become the bride of Christ. And as with John, our loving God intended it all from the beginning - yes, even before the beginning. Before the foundation of the world, he chose us to be blameless in His sight and by His predestining love He adopted us to be His children in Christ (Eph. 1 :4-5).

Personal Security in Justification 

The gospel proclaims God's fulfillment of the sinner's need for status through the saving work of Christ. At its essential core, the gospel proclaims our justification. This reality comprises the foundation for all aspects of Christian life and Christian living. It is the saving reality that defines who we are as the people of God. Nothing is more crucial to a confident and growing Christian walk than an ever deepening and trusted awareness of its foundation for what we are and do as the people of God. The justified life of the believer comprises the continual zenith of our fellowship with God in this life. The essence of the Christian's walk with God is simply to grow and live more completely in the reality that we are His holy, forgiven and loved children just as we are for the sake of the cross of Christ. Christian life is the call to express it, grow in it and get used to it. The core of life with God in the old creation is getting used to being holy and righteous saints as the unconditional gift of the gracious God. With this vision for now, we await the resurrected life in the world to come.

What an incredibly wonderful and liberating thing our saintly status is! One of the most crucial human needs we have as sinful beings is the need for personal security. We need to have status or standing as people who are loved and accepted, just as we are. We need someone who will always be there for us and not forsake us. We ache for a place among others to belong, really belong as a part of a community. Community and acceptability are simply necessary for life to have fulfillment and meaning. Think of all of the ways that we insecure, sinful humans are trying to achieve, bargain for, or manipulate others with power, wealth and our own affection to acquire such a secure status. And it all ends in frustrating, bitter failure. Sooner or later we come to the painful realization that other humans are just as frail and needy as we are and thus are not up to delivering such security and unconditional love. Rather, they are simply looking for the same thing for themselves. We rest secure and unconditionally loved in the cross of Christ, or there is no rest or security for us at all.

When God created Adam and Eve, our first parents, community, acceptability and real security were attributes of their very existence. They had no relational needs, as God created them holy and righteous in nature and they lived in a community of total harmony with Himself at the center of their existence. If someone could have met Adam in the garden ("pre-apple'') and told him about the crucial human: needs of security and Significance for personal well-being, he probably would have replied with a baffled "Huh?" Total well-being was simply a nonreflected given to human existence. Before the Fall, Adam and Eve had no needs. But, as sin destroyed their righteous nature and brought alienation to the core of human existence, what was once a given has now become a lack. As sons and daughters of Adam, dead in our trespasses, we desperately need now what we lack. The presence of needs always signals a deficit, a void that ultimately only God's saving work in all of its fullness can permanently fill. Sin has rendered us very needy persons. We need self-worth and a sense of well-being for life to be worth living. God has demonstrated our inestimable self-worth in that "while we were sinners, Christ died for us" (Rom. 5:8). His saving work brings the only true well-being that is now and forever. The need for security so crucial for well-being is met eternally in our justified status as saints through Christ's saving work; it is seen on the cross, revealed and bestowed in the gospel and received by faith.

Sinfulness: The Character of the Christian

Often non-Christians become quite confused about what believers mean when they witness about being saved and receiving salvation from Christ. Our post-Christian culture has brought with it a general ignorance not only about Christianity but also about the meaning of many of the terms and concepts by which the faith has been communicated in Scripture and in the history of the church. How might we effectively communicate what we mean by salvation to the nonbeliever when we try to explain that only God in Christ can truly deliver it? One Christian thinker has expressed it this way. "Salvation is complete personal well-being, now and forever. And that is only possible with a restored relationship with our Creator through His Son, Jesus Christ."

Working with this understanding, can we Christians claim that we have already been saved? Perhaps we must best answer with a definite "yes" and "no." From the standpoint of a secure status of being forgiven and thus loved and accepted just as we are - a crucial need for personal well-being - we can definitely say, "Yes, we are already saved through faith in Christ." We can say, "I am justified; I am now a child of God, a full-status saint in His kingdom, now and forever." But must we not also admit that sometimes we don't think, act or feel very secure in God's love? We cling to our saintly status by faith and we trust God's promise that it shall be forever. All the while we are worthy subjects each day to pray, "Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief." We claim our justification in this life by faith, not by sight and it is often a fragile faith that is in the "needs improvement" category. And is it not true that much of our sinful and selfish behavior is in the service of attempting to acquire status and security from people and the things of this world?

Much to our own dismay and embarrassment, we Christians must admit that we do not· act very secure in God's love nor do we return that love very easily. Our often weak, impoverished faith and love serve well to remind us that although our status in Christ is holy and righteous, our character is not. And this brings us to the other half of Luther's Christian identity paradox. Who am I? I am a saint. But what am I? I am a sinner in my character. The corrupt sinful condition that we inherited from Adam's fall is still  ours in the Christian life. We groan with the rest of creation awaiting the final deliverance from all the devastating effects of evil in the world and in our own lives. In this sense, salvation, the realization of full and complete well-being, is still yet to come.

The word sin is a technical term that the Scriptures use to describe the problem of evil that afflicts all of humanity. Literally, it means "missing the mark." To be sinful is to miss the mark of God's creative purpose and design. Both believers and nonbelievers are quite aware of the problem of evil as it afflicts the body. It is plagued by all forms of pathological conditions-disease, degeneration and eventually death. Modern medicine has done much to postpone these, but is powerless to overcome them. Our hope as Christians lies in the fullness of salvation and the resurrection of the body, a certain inheritance that we see and celebrate in the resurrection of Christ. But what of the effects of sin upon the spiritual or personal dimensions of human nature-what we might call the functioning capacities of personhood? Perhaps we can get a good picture by observing Eve's demise in the Garden as she yields to Satan's temptation in Genesis three. First, let's briefly sketch what these capacities of personhood entail.

Functioning Capacities of Personhood 

To be a human person means to be begotten by the sovereign Creator, born of human parents and addressed by God. Our personhood derives from our Maker and is sealed and guaranteed by Him, not by some capacities that we are able to develop or exercise. Moreover, humans are persons, not because we can address God or others, but that He addresses us and calls us into fellowship and life with Him. In both creation and redemption, God's initiative establishes our dignity and anchors our self-worth. As we address functioning capacities of personhood, we must recognize that these and our individual personalities express and disclose human personhood; they do not, however, establish or define it. [2] The fetus, infant, and severely impaired person may have no (or diminished) functioning of these human capacities, but nevertheless are still fully human persons. This must not be forgotten in the following discussion. We are entering into a consideration of how we express our personhood ultimately for interpersonal relationships (knowing and being known) according to God's creative design, not what makes us human persons.

God has endowed human beings with a mind that is continually active, supplying meaning and evaluating the significance of the events and experiences of everyday life. We are rational beings. With the mind, we make sense out of the data of experience with broad interpretive beliefs that provide intelligible focus and understanding. All humans have an assumptive system of basic beliefs about the nature of reality that are used to classify, evaluate and render intelligible what the mind receives from experience. We could call this assumptive set of basic beliefs about the nature of reality a "world view" or "web" of beliefs by which we capture or view meaning and understanding of the data of experience. Experiential data do not come to us with meaning attached to them, our God-given minds perform this duty.

Without entering into the debate as to what extent our interpretive beliefs are inherited or acquired by our contact with others as we grow and mature, it is safe to say that our "world views" or interpretive beliefs are not coerced, determined or merely instinctual. God created us as volitional beings. We can develop and change our beliefs by willful choice. In the final analysis, our convictions and assumptions about the meaning and value of things are chosen. We believe what we choose to believe.

The human mind is continually active in other ways beyond interpreting and evaluating. It also can engage in imaginative and creative thought. We also acquire attitude and desires. And some of these on the heart level may be quite deep-seated and subconscious. For example, with our minds we know that it is an orange that we see, and we may believe that it is good to eat. We might even have a deep craving for oranges. Quite consciously, we want the orange and desire to eat it. The desire is willed, but very much influenced by what we believe. If we thought the orange poisonous or if we believed that we are allergic to oranges, we probably would not desire it at all. However, with the belief that oranges are good tasting and good for our health, the orange is desired for eating and we are motivated to eat it.

Our behavior follows from our chosen motive, highly influenced by our beliefs and attitudes (wants and desires). The human character is continually active with willful internal behavior that is conscious and subconscious. It involves a complex interplay of our beliefs, attitudes and motives which receive outward expression in what we do and say. And involuntarily flowing from our experiences impacted by our beliefs, attitudes, motives and behavior, emotional reactions and responses involuntarily come forth. We feel quite content and happy eating the orange.

But now, what effect has sin had upon this dynamic functioning of the human person that God originally created in His own image? Perhaps we can best see the devastating effects of sin and how the human character can indeed change, by examining the sinful corruption of Eve described in Genesis three. Prior to her demise under Satan's influence, Eve had a functioning set of beliefs and attitudes that were good and righteous - fully in accord with God's creative will. Her motives were pure and her behavior and emotional life were accented with goodness, contentment and joy. Total well-being permeated her character and existence.

The Fall Revisited 

Eve began her encounter with Satan with a faulty belief about God's will for her life. She believed that God prohibited her from touching the forbidden fruit, in addition to not eating it. God, however, did not forbid her from touching (see Gen. 2:17), only partaking of the fruit. Eve had a legalistic understanding of God's will for her life in the Garden. She chose to take the matter of her security into her own hands and "improve" on God's security provision over against the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. She doubted God's word and was determined to trust in her own measures rather than her Creator. Now Satan had his toe-hold in her mind and heart, and he would press for further corruption. He would see if her lack of trust could be turned into a thoroughgoing rebellion. At his suggestion, Eve chose to believe that she could further improve her well-being by becoming a fully independent person like God. Like God, she could be in control of her own life and destiny. She believed that this was within her power, and partaking of the forbidden fruit was seen as good for food and able to give wisdom that would elevate her to the stature of God (Gen. 3:5-6a). She believed that she would not die. Believing now as she did, deep personal desires in her heart became depraved. She longed to be independent like God, and the forbidden fruit was desired to that end. And motivated to accomplish her rebellious and perverted goal, she behaved accordingly, partaking of the forbidden fruit. As Adam partakes with her, together their emotional life becomes corrupted by the feelings of guilt and shame.

Notice how Genesis three portrays the fall into sin as· a progressive, corruptive process of Eve's functioning personal capacities, beginning with her beliefs, values and goals, and proceeding then to her attitudes and desires. As these become false and perverted by her own volition, she becomes motivated to rebel against God in her behavior and suffers the emotional consequences of guilt and shame. The fall into sin and the loss of the image of God did not begin with external behavior. It flowed progressively through the inner self, the mind and heart, through chosen sinful beliefs, attitudes and motives. Sinful external behavior then followed from the corruption of the functioning inner character. Sin as rebellion against God flows from a lack of trust in the inner being to the external self. The account of the Fall gives. us a glimpse, albeit a tragic negative one, of how effective change in the human person can take place.

We have seen Satan use some quite effective strategies to bring about dramatic and profound change in Eve's character and behavior. Satan understood the human person well as God created it, and he understood its potential for change. The change that he orchestrated tarnished the image of God in us terribly and, morally speaking, destroyed it.

The Root of the Problem 

Luther continually observed that the root of sin is a rebellion against the First Commandment. At its core, it is a rebellion against positioning the self and its existence around a trust in the Creator God for self well-being. From the fall of Adam and Eve, all of humanity has been brought into the world with a compulsive rebellion against trust in God. We would have any other ultimate concern in life but Him for our own well-being. Our alienation from Him has created the crucial need for the status of unconditional acceptance and the drive to find meaningful significant impact in living. The consequences of sin have alienated us from both secure status and Significance as the people of God, and we are separated from the center and source of all that we need, our Creator God. It has brought us death-a death of alienation, loneliness, moral and spiritual bankruptcy, loss of identity and meaningless existence. It has imprisoned us within a slavish all-consuming love of ourselves as our greatest concern and object of trust. Our sinful condition does not mean that we cannot love or do anything right. Rather it means that we are incapable of ordering our life and loves around an all-embracing fear, love and trust in God. Our loves have become disordered and now flow from selfish human pride that places the self at the center of reality. As Eve desired, we would be like God, but know we are not. Sinfully bent love and pride have us in their prison of death.

All sons and daughters of Adam seek personal well-being and deliverance from the problems that evil creates for existence, but with the rebellious commitment and determination to work these out for oneself independent from a fear, love and trust in God. What we are suggesting is that everyone has a plan or hoped-for plan for personal salvation and a god, even if oneself, to secure it. Like Eve, today's sinners are committed to the belief that well-being (salvation) is needed desperately, but it is a desire divorced from a trust and dependence on God. We would be like Him, as Eve thought she could be, beings who on the fundamental levels of existence can autonomously take care of ourselves and secure the good life and a happy forever. In this sense there are no atheists in the world and everyone is dying for salvation. The only options are to die to sin and self in the cross of Christ and live as a new creation in His righteousness and resurrection, or to struggle through existence curved in on the self and remain damned to prison of self-centered, lonely love-dead forever!

The gospel proclaims that only our Creator has a plan that can truly deliver us from all aspects of evil that would otherwise overwhelm us. It also proclaims that in the cross and resurrection of Christ, He has. Christians have received salvation and well-being in the righteousness of Christ given to faith. Our saintly secure status as adopted children of is held in faith. About us and within us is still the corruption of the old fallen sinful order of paradise lost. We are saints by pronouncement and gift - a holy standing that shall be ours for eternity. But for now, we are still sinful in all aspects of our physical and personal dimensions of self. All of this corruption is fully evident to all our senses and reasoning. Simultaneously sinners and saints! We hold the reality of both in tension until the final transformation in the resurrected life when our Lord returns in the fullness of His glory.

Author 

Dr. Steven A. Hein is professor of theology at Concordia University, River Forest, Illinois, where he has taught since 1975. He is a contributing editor of Logia - A Journal of Lutheran Theology, and is married with four sons. This is his first contribution to Reformation & Revival Journal.

Endnotes
  1. Jaroslav Pelikan and Helmut T. Lehmann, eds., Martin Luther, "Lectures on Galatians - 1535," Luther's Works (St. Louis and Philadelphia: Concordia and Fortress Press, 1955-72), 232. 
  2. Gilbert Meilaender, Faith and Faithfulness (Notre Dame: Notre Dame Press, 1991), 4446.

Monday, 1 January 2018

Four Aspects of Divine Righteousness

By Fred G. Zaspel

Psalm 97:2 declares that God dwells in "righteousness and justice" (tsedek and mishpat). That is to say, He is Himself right and true. He is morally and ethically right, and He acts according to what is proper. This, the psalmist affirms, is God's very "habitation." Righteousness is no accident to Him, no incidental quality. It is essential to His very being and always characterizes everything that He does. He is and does only what is right and just.

This theme is common in Scripture. "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do justly?" (Gen. 18:25). He is a "righteous Judge" (2 Tim. 4:8). "He will judge the world in righteousness" (Ps. 9:8; Acts 17:31). The Father is the "righteous Father" (John 17:25), the Son is the righteous Advocate (1 John 2:1), and the Spirit was sent to convict the world concerning righteousness (John 16:8, 10). God is righteous, and He always acts only in keeping with what is just.

But what is that righteousness which is so characteristic of God? How shall we understand this attribute? The primary words which the biblical writers use (tsedek and dikaiosune) denote, in a physical sense, "being straight," or in a moral sense, "being right," and hence, "conformity to an ethical or moral standard," [1] being and doing what is right. One who is righteous "lives up" to expected obligations; he acts in accordance with what should be done. A righteous man is one who is right and who does what is suitable, one who maintains a "right relation with" [2] what is expected.

For this reason; theologians have described God's righteousness as the ethical dimension of His holiness, or as His "transitive holiness," [3] or as a "mode" of His holiness. [4] It is that aspect of His holiness which distinguishes Him as consistent with His own moral demands.

But then what is that rule, that standard of moral rectitude to which God is conformed? What law is it that obligates Him? We must be careful at this point not to imply that is bound to some abstract rule external to Himself. To subject Him to any rule outside of Himself would be to make Him something less than God. No, He does not conform to anyone or to anything. He conforms only to Himself. That "rightness" to which He is obligated is nothing other than His own nature and will. It is His nature and will that determine right from wrong. And when Scripture declares that God does what is right, it affirms merely that He faithfully adheres to His own perfections. He acts only and always according to the very highest principle of justice: Himself.

In other words, righteousness is determined by lordship. Divine sovereignty makes no concessions here. "Who has first given to Him that it might be paid back to Him again?" (Rom. 11:35). "The right, therefore, which God hath to act his righteousness or to act righteously towards others, is supreme and sovereign, arising naturally and necessarily from the relation of all things unto himself." [5] "In this respect God is wholly arbitrary, and hath no other rule but his own will; he doth not will things because they are just, but therefore they are just because God wills them." [6]

Interestingly, Plato rather blindly grappled at some length with this question. In his dialogue with Euthyphro he appears frustrated at his inability to come to any certain conclusion as to "whether the pious or holy is beloved by the gods because it is holy, or holy because it is beloved of the gods." For him, the answer was illusive. "For somehow or other our arguments, on whatever ground we rest them, seem to turn around and walk away from us." [7] In light of the unpredictability and inconsistencies and the disagreements among Plato's many gods, [8] and given his nonbiblical frame of reference, his frustration is understandable! But viewing the question from the vantage point of monotheistic special revelation, the answer is not at all speculative: God is sovereign, and as such it is His nature and will that constitute the very essence of righteousness. In the words of Mastrict, "God is proto-, in fact auto-dikaion." [9]

For this reason John Piper is certainly correct in emphasizing that Paul "conceive[s] of God's righteousness as his unswerving faithfulness always to preserve and display the glory of his name." [10] God is ever concerned to glorify Himself in all that He does, and His "righteousness" is no less designed to that end also. This is why man's "unrighteousness" (adikia, Rom. 1:18) is described in terms of "not glorifying God as God" (v. 21). Righteousness consists in glorifying God and nothing less. The law to which men are bound is His law in every respect. The law is "not above Him" but "within Him." [11] And this standard, being nothing other than the nature and will of God, is the standard to which the immutable God has bound Himself.

This is a truth about God which we are glad to know! It is one thing to know that He is sovereign and so rules the world by His own will. But it is something more indeed to know that He rules in righteousness. For all the apparent inequities of life, for all the favors He shows the wicked, and for all the afflictions that fall upon the righteous, it is necessary indeed that we know that God is just and that He will do what is right - however difficult it may be for us to see it at the moment. Or again, it is one thing to know that He is the Judge of all the world. But it is something much more to know that He judges according to what is right and in a way that is consistent with Himself, that He will not condemn the innocent or clear the guilty. Unlike the "gods" of the heathen, the true God is not whimsical or capricious. He is righteous. Immutably righteous. "Shall not the judge of all the earth deal justly?" (Gen. 18:25). "The Lord is righteous within her; He will do no injustice" (Zeph. 3:5).

But there is more to God's righteousness than this. This is but the larger, more general picture. God's righteousness expresses itself in various ways, and so as theologians (particularly the older theologians) studied the ways in which God's righteousness is presented in Scripture, they tended to speak of it in various theological categories. These categories are very helpful as we seek to understand this very basic and important attribute of God.

Rectoral Righteousness

God's "rectoral" righteousness is that aspect of His nature which demands or requires righteousness of all His creatures. This is perhaps what we normally think of when we speak of God's righteousness. It has to do with the imposition of laws and standards. It is "the rectitude which God manifests as the Ruler of both the good and the evil. In virtue of this He institutes a moral government in the world, and imposes a just law upon man, with promises of reward for the obedient and threats of punishment for the disobedient." [12] God is not only righteous in Himself; He requires the same of all His creatures. Vos calls this "the righteousness of cognizance .... By this we mean that Jehovah is held to take notice and keep account of all moral conduct. ... All conduct falls under the divine jurisdiction." [13]

One important word in this connection is the word "law-giver." [14] God is the One who imposes laws. He determines right from wrong, and He legislates accordingly. In fact, Scripture speaks of God as the ultimate source of all justice. "And the strength of the King loves justice; Thou hast established equity" (Ps. 99:4). Any given device designed to promote fairness in business - weights, scales - is from God (Prov. 16:11). And so "A false balance is an abomination to the Lord, but a just weight is His delight" (Prov. 11:1). So also God abhors any who "justifies the wicked, and he who condemns the righteous" (Prov. 17:15). He despises those who steal or defraud others, not because this is a violation of some abstract standard, but because it is contrary and an affront to God Himself Whose very nature demands what is true and right.

Furthermore, all the things that God requires of us are themselves just. "Thy testimonies are righteous forever" (Ps. 119:144). They are not unfair; they are right and necessary as expressions of the righteousness of His own nature.

For this reason, theologians have emphasized that this aspect of divine righteousness is a necessary one. God is God, and we are His creatures. It would be unrighteous, inconsistent with His own being, were He not to require us to live to glorify Him. Just as it is "necessary" for God Himself to maintain His righteousness, so it is necessary for Him to require it of man made in His image; this rises "naturally and necessarily from the relation of all things unto himself .... [I]t followeth naturally and necessarily, not as a new thing in God, but as a natural and necessary respect which his nature and being hath unto all creatures upon their production." [15] "Thine eyes are too pure to approve evil, and Thou canst not look on wickedness with favor" (Hab. 1:13).

So God is Himself righteous. As such He imposes laws. Those laws are righteous. And His laws are binding, for all are accountable to Him as the righteous Judge.

This, of course, is what our society despises about God. Our society wants a God who conforms to its standards. This is precisely the indictment on the world by the apostle Paul in Romans 1:18ff. What men have known they have suppressed. Their problem, their wickedness, lies not in an ignorance of God's law; it lies in their rebellion against it and the one who gave it. They "disapproved God" (edokimasan ton theon, v. 28). Natural man violently refuses any idea of a God who dares impose His will on others. This is our generation's cry for "freedom." A God who would be more cooperative, more flexible, they would have, but not a God who imposes His law. But this is the true God, and His very nature demands that we live to glorify Him. And no denial of Him can alter the reality that He is the righteous Lawgiver and Judge.

Retributive Righteousness 

God's "retributive" righteousness is that aspect of His nature which inflicts punishment for all unrighteousness in His creatures. It is variously referred to as His "punitive" or "vindictive" or "avenging justice." It has to do with the infliction of penalties for failure to conform to His righteousness. It was first expressed in the Garden of Eden: "In the day that you eat from it, you shall surely die" (Gen. 2:17). It is reiterated in the law: "Cursed is he who does not confirm the words of this law by doing them" (Deut. 27:26). It is echoed in the writings: "He will judge the world with righteousness" (Ps. 96:13). It is echoed again in the prophets: "The soul who sins will die" (Ezek. 18:4). It is reaffirmed in the epistles: "The wages of sin is death" (Rom. 6:23). "Vengeance is Mine, I will repay, says the Lord" (Rom. 12:19). In reference to sin and sinners, "God is a consuming fire" (Heb. 12:29). These are familiar notes to anyone who reads the Bible. Nor is it merely threatened. From the Garden to the flood to Babel to Sodom and Gomorrah to Egypt to the Canaanites to the captivity to Ananias and Sapphira this threat has proven to be a real one. "The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men" (Rom. 1:18), and has been so since the beginning.

Neither is reformation or rehabilitation the only intended goal. God's acts of retribution may well have this effect at times (Ezra 9:15; Lam. 1:18), and this is always good. But the goal of God's vindictive righteousness is not that of reclaiming the offender or reshaping his character. It is on this score that Vos criticizes Ritschl who denied the idea of God's righteousness as punishment anywhere in the Old Testament. According to Ritschl, God's purpose in exercising His righteousness was a benevolent one, "safeguarding the structure of society." Vos rightly points out that this is but a part of the whole, and he rests his case on Amos 5:24: "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." Against the backdrop of Israel's apostasy this is hardly a call to abundant expressions of goodness on Israel's part; it is a call for retribution against sin, and this "from the supreme motive of giving free sway to the infinite force of His ethical indignation." [16] The idea is that of punishment or retribution, and the goal is the vindication and demonstration of the righteousness of God (Rom. 3:5), "the maintenance of right and justice." [17] The perspective is not forward but backward, to the evil that has been done. "Its first object is requital." [18] This is the purpose of the casting down of the angels who sinned, the flood of Noah's day, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and so on. And when John speaks of the awful sight of the wicked being cast into the lake of fire to "be tormented day and night forever and ever" (Rev. 20:10-14; 14:10-11), the only possible object in view is just retribution upon sinners. It is the "punishment [19] of eternal fire" (Jude 7).

Again, this is a necessary and essential aspect of God's  righteousness. [20] "[V]indicatory justice is the very rectitude and perfection of the Deity .... For if such a law were not made necessarily, it might be possible that God should lose his natural. right and dominion over his creatures, and thus  he would not be God." [21] It would be impossible for God not to punish sin. Without it, justice would not be maintained. It would be a denial of His veracity to impose a law with threats against disobedience and not follow through. "The Lord has sworn and will not change His mind" (ps. 110:4). "He will by no means leave the guilty unpunished" (Ex. 34:7). Moreover, it would be wrong, a denial of God's own nature, to treat lawbreakers as if they were lawkeepers. He cannot do it. "Indifference to sin is a moral blemish." [22] "Thine eyes are too pure to approve evil, and Thou canst not look on wickedness with favor" (Hab. 1:13). "It is only just for God to repay with affliction those who afflict you" (2 Thess. 1:6); that is to say, this vengeance upon the wicked is necessary to the satisfying of God's justice. Punishment of sin is "just recompense" (endikon misthapodosian, Heb. 2:2). "The Lord is slow to anger and great in power, and the Lord will by no means leave the guilty unpunished" (Nah. 1:3). In short, every sin must be punished.

In fact, so necessary is it that each sin be punished, and justly so, that Scripture goes further to speak of the punishment of sin in degrees. "Few" or "many lashes" will be given according to knowledge and responsibility (Luke 12:47-48). It will be worse in the day of judgment for that city which rejects the gospel than for Sodom and Gomorrah (Matt. 10:15; cf. 11:20-24; Heb. 10:29-31). "Every careless word" will be taken into account and justly punished (Matt. 12:36). Men by their many sins "are storing up wrath" for themselves (Rom. 2:5) in that day when God will judge "according to their deeds" (Rev. 20:12). Every sin must be punished and that with appropriate severity.

Wicked men want very much to discount God's retributive justice, and understandably so! But many professing  believers seem embarrassed by it also, [23] thinking it unworthy of God. But both must recall that "it is only just for God to repay with affliction those who afflict you" (2 Thess. 1:6). The punishment is a just and necessary outworking of God's own righteous nature. It is one essential aspect of His glorious being which He has determined to "demonstrate" (endeixasthai, Rom. 9:22) and for which all the saints, with one great voice, will at the last say "Hallelujah!" (Rev. 19:1-6).

Now our society may refuse the idea of God's rectoral righteousness, but this idea of retributive righteousness they despise still more. But the one very naturally flows from the other. We are accountable to God to act in keeping with His righteousness, and any failure to do so demands retribution (cf. Gal. 3:10). If there is a God and if He is righteous, then all unrighteousness will one day be punished. Indeed the knowledge of this aspect of divine righteousness is innate in every man. Though they deny it, still they "recognize [epignontes] the righteous judgment [dikaioma] of God, that those who practice such things are worthy of death" (Rom. 1:32). No denial of the facts will alter their reality. Knowing it they hate it, and hating it they deny it, but only to become more culpable. It is one horrible prospect that awaits the sinner.

Redemptive Righteousness 

But all this presents a very real problem. God reveals Himself as a righteous God Who demands the same of us all and condemns all who do not conform. He will "by no means leave the guilty unpunished" (Ex. 34:7). The problem is obvious: how can any of us ever escape God's wrath? How may any of us ever enjoy any blessing from God at all? There is that aspect of God's righteousness which causes Him to faithfully reward all righteousness on the part of His creatures; and we will see that in a moment. But how can that be a realistically happy thought to any of us? Even if we could turn over a new leaf and from here on live in perfect conformity to God's law, we still stand condemned for our past sins. If God must condemn sinners, there is, it would seem, no hope at all.

In this sense our justification is (if we can use such language) a kind of moral dilemma for God also. We cannot imagine that God will in the end somehow merely overlook our sins. This is the idea most seem to have about God, that He will eventually let bygones be bygones and all will be well. But God is righteous, and if salvation is to come at all we may be sure that it will only be in such a way that this righteousness is satisfied. This is His very nature, and He cannot deny Himself.

So here is our predicament. God demands righteousness and will surely punish all unrighteousness. He cannot do less. We have neither produced righteousness nor could we by doing so pay the penalty for past sins. By ourselves we stand hopelessly condemned before a just God.

It is here that we come to learn of God's "redemptive" righteousness - that aspect of His righteousness by which He provides righteousness for His offending creatures.

It is a curious thing that in the Old Testament God's righteousness began to be spoken of as the source and ground of salvation. "In Thy righteousness deliver me" (Ps. 71:2). "With righteousness He will judge the poor" (Isa. 11:4). "There is no other God besides Me, a righteous God and a Savior" (Isa. 45:21). "My salvation shall be forever, and My righteousness shall not wane" (Isa. 51:6). "Every tongue that accuses you in judgment you will condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their vindication is from Me, declares the Lord" (Isa. 54:17). "I will rejoice greatly in the Lord, my soul will exult in my God; for He has clothed me with the garments of salvation, He has wrapped me with a robe of righteousness" (Isa. 61:10). David's forgiveness resulted in his singing aloud of God's righteousness (Ps. 51:14).

Perhaps more surprising, the inspired apostle describes the Christian gospel as the revelation of "the righteousness of God" (Rom. 1:17). We might expect that a message of salvation should be a message of leniency or of mercy or a waiving of the sentence. Never would we expect a message of Divine righteousness to be "good news"! How can God be "faithful and righteous to forgive us our sin" (1 John 1:9)?

This is precisely the beauty of the gospel. God will not and cannot relax His justice. Nor can He abolish it. His righteousness will not allow that. But He can, if He would so choose, provide a substitute. And herein lies the necessity and design of Christ's death. God must punish sin - every sin. He cannot let one evil go without retribution. But freely choosing to save, "He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all" (Rom. 8:32), and in Him the punishment of sin for all His people is fully meted out. Those for whom He died receive all its attending benefits (Rom. 8:32) and so cannot be condemned (Rom. 8:34). We go free not by a sidestepping of justice but on the ground of a full satisfaction of justice. Our sin is punished and we go free! "Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a curse for us" (Gal. 3:13). "He Himself bore our sins in His body on the cross" (1 Peter 2:24) and thereby satisfied the demands of justice against us. God has "made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him" (2 Cor. 5:21). "For Christ also died for sins once for all, the just for the unjust, in order that He might bring us to God" (1 Peter 3:18). "The Lord has caused the iniquity of us all to fallon Him" (Isa. 53:6).

We cannot speak of God's redemptive righteousness, then, unless we also speak of His retributive righteousness. Indeed, the nature and redemptive value of Christ's death on the cross cannot be rightly understood apart from an appreciation of God's retributive justice.
In the whole matter of salvation by the Mediator, God-man, there is no excellence of God, no essential property, no attribute of his nature, the glory of which is the chief end of all his works, that he hath more clearly and eminently displayed than this punitory justice. [24]
God must punish all sin, and in saving His people He makes no exception. He will not compromise Himself. But instead, He Himself becomes responsible for us and bears the judgment of His own wrath. God the Son, forsaken of God the Father, suffering as a sinner under His condemnation. Jesus Christ, the sinner's substitute, bearing the sin of many.

Still there is more. There is an exchange. He not only takes our sin, but in exchange He gives us His righteousness. In dying for us He satisfies God's righteous demand for punishment. But He goes still further. He was not only "made to be sin on our behalf" (2 Cor. 5:21); He "became to us ... righteousness" (1 Cor. 1:30). Christ is "the Lord our righteousness" (Jer. 23:6). He pays the penalty of our sin and provides us with His own perfections. Our record becomes His, and so He dies. But His record becomes ours, and so we live.

This is what has often been referred to as Christ's "active and passive" obedience. "Born under the law" (Gal. 4:4) He actively performed for us all that was our responsibility to perform, and in our place He suffered the full penalty due us for our sin. He is "the end of the law for righteousness" (Rom. 10:4). We are "found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own derived from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which comes from God on the basis of faith" (Phil. 3:9). Christ, the substitute sinner, provides a substitute righteousness.

It is in this way that God's righteousness is revealed in the gospel. God has not sidestepped His justice. He has not saved us by overlooking our sin. He has saved us by doing for us all that was required of us. His righteousness is perfectly upheld. So righteous is God that He would not spare even His own Son as He took the sinner's place; the punishment was administered fully. And righteousness is freely provided. God, then, is both "just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus" (Rom. 3:26).

It is this that makes the notion of salvation by human merit so blasphemous. It is to say that Christ's righteousness is not enough. It is to say that His death was not sufficient payment for sin. It is to say that "Christ died needlessly" (Gal. 2:21). And this is why the Scriptures make so much of justification "by faith" (e.g., Rom. 5:1). God cannot pronounce us righteous on the basis of our own merit, for we have not merited enough. "All our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment" (Isa. 64:6). To approach God on the basis of what we have done is to sidestep Jesus Christ who alone has done enough. We can only approach God on the basis of faith in His Son, acknowledging. and trusting Him as the only Savior. "The righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith; as it is written, 'But the righteous man shall live by faith'" (Rom. 1:17). It is the revelation of a righteous God who demands perfection and punishes all sin. But it is also the revelation of the righteous God who in mercy saves sinners by doing for them what He requires of them.

Ironically, this is where Paul's opponents who were so zealous for the law fell so short of it. How could a man be righteous apart from the law? they wondered. It is the law that defines righteousness! How can a man be righteous without conformity to it? But in arguing so, they missed the obvious fact that no one has ever kept the law sufficiently for justification. To claim to be right before God on the basis of one's own merit is to alter the standard of God's righteousness and make it something less. But in this message of justification by faith in Jesus Christ, who kept the law perfectly and satisfied its every demand, Paul says, "we establish the law!" (Rom. 3:31). Yes, we admit our failure to keep the law, but still we claim to be acquitted by it, for we have as our own the perfect record of our righteous substitute who bore in our place the punishment of our sin.

It is only in "having been justified by faith," therefore, that "we have peace with God" (Rom. 5:1). Peace judicially and peace of conscience. If we were to attempt to be justified by our works, we would always wonder if we had worked enough. We could never be sure. Our every sin would cause such anxiety as to make us doubt that we could ever be saved. But if God comes to us beforehand and gives us His Son and tells us ahead of time that if we will but trust Him to be for us all that God requires of us, and if we do believe on Him so, then our conscience may be at rest. We feel safe, not for what righteousness we have of our own but for Christ's very righteousness which has been made ours. We will rest in His righteousness and not in our own, and this we do "not for curiosity, nor contention sake; but for conscience sake; that it might be quiet." [25]

We must say, then, that the gospel reveals much more than God's righteousness. It also reveals His grace. God is righteous, uncompromisingly righteous. But He is not only righteous. He is also gracious. Through the merits and works of Jesus Christ received by faith, His righteousness becomes ours.

Remunerative Righteousness 

God's "remunerative" righteousness is that aspect of His righteousness by which He rewards His creatures for the righteousness which they have done. It has to do with the distribution of rewards according to justice. "God is not unjust so as to forget your work and the love which you have shown toward His name" (Heb. 6:10). "Whatever good thing each one does, he will receive back from the Lord" (Eph. 6:8). This point is at issue also in several of our Lord's parables. [26] God rewards righteousness.

Strong seems to miss this point entirely. He contends that God's bestowal of reward has not to do with His justice but His goodness. [27] Now it is plainly evident that these rewards do stem from God's goodness. But as just noted, God deems it an act of His righteousness also; it is something He must do.

Now this aspect of divine righteousness is perhaps more startling than any. That God would be so gracious as to provide righteousness for the undeserving and that at His own expense is grace enough. But why go any further? What need is there to then reward us for the good we have done? Indeed, the good that we have done is but our duty (Luke 17:10). We are what we are "by the grace of God" (1 Cor. 15:10), and what good we do comes only as a result of His workings in us (Phil. 2:13). It is not necessary to God's righteousness to reward anyone for anything. David recognized this when he said, "But who am I and who are my people that we should be able to offer as generously as this? For all things come from Thee, and from Thy hand we have given Thee" (1 Chron. 29:14).

But that is not the point. The point is not that God is obligated to us, but that He has obligated Himself by promise (cf. James 1:12).
It is part of his justice to make good his word; by promise God hath made himself a debtor .... It is just with God to pay what he oweth, and God oweth what he hath promised; and so it is a crown of righteousness which God the righteous Judge will give us at that day. [28] 
Though no primary and original obligation rests upon the Creator, to reward a creature made from nothing, and continually upheld and helped in the service which he renders, yet he can constitute a secondary and relative obligation. He can promise to reward the creature's service; and having bound himself to reward obedience, his own word establishes a species of claim. . . . In the words of Witsius (Covenants, I. i. iv.), "God by his promise, has made himself a debtor to men." [29] 
Now think about this. Imagine looking back over your life and measuring up whatever degree of faithfulness there has been, and then marching into God's presence and expecting repayment. The whole idea is so wrong! We know that we are deserving of only punishment and that the righteousness we possess is only by grace. But still, God has said it is a righteous thing for Him to do this. He has pledged Himself to it, and He will perform it.

Perhaps I can illustrate this better than I can explain it. Christmas at our house is a very happy time. We go all out. Gifts are exchanged in the extreme. One Christmas when my daughter was very young, we were opening our presents, and she just couldn't wait for me to open her gift to me. I waited until I thought she might burst and then picked up the package and read, "To Daddy, From Gina." Taking my time, I began to guess. "Is it a new car?" "No, Daddy!" "Is it a new motorcycle?" ""No!" "A new house?" "No. Now Daddy, open it!" "Okay." So I unwrapped the gift slowly, and when finally it was open I found a nice new pair of gloves. "Do you like them, Daddy?" she asked. I took her up in my arms, assured her that I did, gave her a big hug and kiss, and thanked her many times over for what she had given me. And I told her, in terms she could understand, how good it was to have such a wonderful and generous daughter.

Now I have a question: who do you think paid for those gloves? Where did she get the money? Curious, isn't it, there I was rewarding her for the things that my own money had purchased.

In a way much like that God has promised to reward us, His servants, for the very thing that He has purchased and freely provided. No wonder we find the twenty-four elders in heaven removing their crowns and throwing them back at Jesus' feet and saying, "Worthy art Thou, our Lord and God" (Rev. 4: 11). And no wonder the prophet asks in searching challenge, "Who is a God like Thee" (Mic. 7:18).

The truth of God's righteousness is a frightening one for sinners. But when this righteousness is wedded to His grace (Ps. 85:10), it is a happy truth indeed.

Author 

Fred G. Zaspel is pastor of Word of Life Baptist Church, Pottsville, Pennsylvania. This is his second contribution to Reformation & Revival Journal.

Endnotes 
  1. Harold G. Stigers, tsadeq in Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (IWOT), R. Laird Harris, ed. (Chicago: Moody, 1980), 2:752. For discussions see TWOT, 752-55; Ceslas Spicq, Theological Lexicon of the New Testament, James D. Ernest, transl. (peabody, Massachusetts: Hendrickson Publishers, 1994), 1:318-61; Johannes P. Louw and Eugene A. Nida, Greek English Lexicon of the New Testament Based on Semantic Domains (New York: United Bible Societies, 1989), 1:452-53, 744-45; Colin Brown, "Righteousness" in The New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology, Colin Brown, ed. (Grand Rapids: Regency Reference Library, Zondervan, 1986), 3:352-73. Related words in this semantic field include "right," "righteous," righteousness," "uprightness," "just," "justice," "justify," "justification," and "judgment." 
  2. Louw and Nida, 452. 
  3. Augustus H. Strong, Systematic Theology (1907; reprint, Old Tappan, New Jersey: Fleming H. Revell, 1979), 290. 
  4. William G. T. Shedd, Dogmatic Theology (1889; reprint, Minneapolis: Klock & Klock Christian Publishers, 1979), 364. 
  5. John Owen, The Works of John Owen, W H. Goold, ed. (reprint; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1862), 19:100. 
  6. Thomas Manton, The Complete Works of Thomas Manton (reprint; London: James Nisbet & Co., 1872), 8:438. Some care should be given here, for this often has been misunderstood to imply that God has "arbitrarily decided," willy-nilly, certain things to be right or wrong, and that if He had so "decided," lying, e.g., would be proper. As Anselm aptly said, this would be like speaking of "dry water" or "moist fire," for God is a God of truth (Cur Deus Homo in Saint Anselm: Basic Writings, S. N. Deane, transl. [reprint; LaSalle, Illinois: Open Court Publishing Co., 1962], 205). No, God's "arbitrariness" is not of that kind. By "arbitrary" Manton means only to say that God's moral demands are determined by none but His own being. "The law was not made according to arbitrary fiat, it is a righteous law, because conforming to the divine nature, higher than which there is and can be no norm" (Vos, op. cit., 251).
  7. Euthyphro, in The Works of Plato, Irwin Edman, ed. (reprint; New York: The Modern Library, 1956), 46, 48.
  8. A problem which Plato acknowledges, ibid., 40, 44-45, etc.
  9. Quoted in Heinrich Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics (1861; reprint, Grand Rapids: Baker, 1984), 97.
  10. John Piper, The Justification of God (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1993), 100.
  11. Geerhardus Vos, Biblical Theology (1948; reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977), 251.
  12. Louis Berkhof, Manual of Christian Doctrine (1933; reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1978), 68-69.
  13. Vos, op. cit., 251.
  14. Cf. Manton, who called this aspect of divine righteousness "God's legislative justice" (op. cit., 440).
  15. Owen, 19:99-101.
  16. Vos, op. cit., 252-53.
  17. Louis Berkhof, Systematic Theology (1938; reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977), 76.
  18. Shedd, op. cit., 381.
  19. Diken. Dike has in the New Testament only this meaning of "the punishment reserved for sinners." Spicq, op. cit., 320.
  20. Several fuller treatments of this are available. See John Gill, Complete Body of Doctrinal and Practical Divinity (1795; reprint, Grand Rapids: Baker, 1978), 156-57; Thomas Manton, op. cit., 442ff.; James P. Boyce, Abstract of Systematic Theology (1887; reprint, n.d.), 105-106; John Owen, The Works of John Owen, W. H. Goold, ed. (reprint; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1862), 10:505ff., 522ft., 554ft; 19:101ff.
  21. Owen, 10:505,509.
  22. Arthur W. Pink, Gleanings in the Godhead (reprint; Chicago: Moody, 1979), 76.
  23. Often to the point of denying the eternality of hell.
  24. Owen, 10:547.
  25. Augustus Toplady, The Works of Augustus Toplady (1794; reprint, Harrisonburg, Virginia: Sprinkle Publications, 1987), 164.
  26. E.g., Luke 19:11-27.
  27. Strong, op. cit., 293.
  28. Manton, op. cit., 441.
  29. Shedd, op. cit., 368.

Sunday, 31 December 2017

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The Paradoxical Love of the Cross

By Donald G. Bloesch

The most significant revelation of God's grace and God's love ever given to mankind is the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. The divine mystery, revealed openly in the cross of Christ, contains heights we cannot scale and depths we cannot plumb. It is a truly amazing paradox! Now, I choose the word "paradox" intentionally. By paradox I have in mind a reality or event that encompasses elements that appear to be contradictory. It is not a logical riddle but the breaking in of a new horizon of meaning that cannot be fully assimilated by the human intellect. When I speak of the cross as the revelation of God's paradoxical love, I mean the cross not simply as an event in past history but as an abiding reality that impinges upon human life in every age. Yet it always appears as something unexpected and out of the ordinary.

The Mystery of Agape 

When I use the term "love" in this meditation I will be referring mainly to agape - the primary word for love in the Greek New Testament. Agape is a unique kind of love, a love that the natural person simply does not know. It is unconditional love - not dependent on the worth of the one who is loved. It is gratuitous love - given to the undeserving. In this sense it is close to the meaning of grace. It is a love that "does not seek its own" as Paul describes it (cf. 1 Cor. 13:5, KJV). It does not seek its own perfection or fulfillment. It is self-sacrificing, not self-regarding. It finds its fulfillment in the sacrifice of itself, in letting go of the self in order that others might live. It is the kind of love that creates value in the one that is loved, rather than the love that finds value.

Martin Luther, who rediscovered the meaning of agape - its depth and breadth as seen in the New Testament - astutely observed: "Sinners are beautiful because they are loved. They are not loved because they are beautiful." [1] This admirably sums up the essence of agape as the power of creative transformation.

This unique love, found perfectly in God, is often contrasted with another kind of love, eros. Eros is the spiritual love that the Greek philosophers and poets often celebrated. It is the love that seeks unity with the highest and aspires to fulfillment and perfection in union with God. This type of love has made a significant impact on Christian theology through the ages. It has been very important in the development of Christian mysticism.

I confess that I have a kind of love-hate relationship with mysticism. On the one hand, I appreciate so many of the classics of spirituality that have their source in Christian mysticism. Yet at the same time I cannot deny a tension, sometimes even a cleavage, between the claims of the mystics and the gospel of free grace. It is significant that the word eros does not appear in the New Testament.

Another Greek word for love, philia, refers to friendship or mutual love. It has an important role in cementing human relationships, but it is never unconditional. It has its rightful place in the Christian life, but it is not the supernatural love that we know as agape. Philia goes out to those who share common interests. Agape goes out to all, even to those who are our adversaries.

Agape, the paradoxical love of the cross, is a sign of both divine judgment and divine mercy. It reveals the powerlessness of Jesus Christ on the cross as the supreme power in the universe. It is a sign of judgment united with mercy, of power united with meekness. It slays even while it heals, it overcomes even while it submits. It perseveres even while it relents. It is both a crucified love and a conquering love.

The eminent German theologian Jurgen Moltmann in his book, The Crucified God, speaks of God's love as a crucified love. My primary criticism of Moltmann's book, and for that matter of his theological system in general, is that he tends to lose sight of this other dimension of love - that it is triumphant. To have a full Christian perspective we need more than a theology of the cross. We also need a theology of the resurrection and the ascension. Let us also say a theology of Pentecost. A theology of the cross has to be held in tension with a theology of glory. We not only suffer and die with Christ, but we also have a foretaste of the glory that is to be revealed on the last day.

Agape unites love as law and love as grace. In agape we see the paradoxical unity of obligation and permission. It lifts one upward even while it proceeds downward. I am sure most of you are familiar with that inspiring gospel song, "The Love of God," which speaks of God's love this way: "It goes beyond the highest star and reaches to the lowest hell." Love reaches both up and down.

I was brought up on German chorales of the former Evangelical Synod of North America. We had other hymns as well, but the chorales made an indelible impression on me. I still recall the words of one of those hymns:

In Thy service, Lord of mercy,
We would find our chief delight.
Show us then some place to labor
In Thy kingdom, Lord of light. [2]

This is indeed the love of the cross: finding delight in lowly service rather than in possession of the highest good. This love of the cross is both all inclusive and all exclusive. It is the first because it goes out to all people, to the elect and to the reprobate, to the lost and the saved, no matter what their race or creed. Yet it is also exclusive because it calls upon people to enter by the narrow gate and walk the straight way (Matt. 7:13-14). The costly road of discipleship is under the cross.

Metaphors for Love 

There are a number of metaphors for love that we find in Scripture. One of these is a torrent of rain. This is also a metaphor for grace. God sends His rain, His grace, to fall upon us. We see this in the words of our Lord, "He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous" (Matt. 5:45, NIV). Here one discerns another metaphor for love - the shining of the sun. On the basis of his biblical study, Luther referred to love as a "furnace of fire."

Some metaphors for love are misleading. One example is an artesian well. You dig down and make contact. But love is not a power waiting to be tapped or released. It is not gained by digging deeper into the self. In evangelical Christianity love means getting out of yourself, getting away from yourself, getting into the needs, hopes and desires of others.

It is also a mistake to depict love as a magnet that draws all things to itself. This is the idea of love found in Buddhism, where we have the image of the Buddha under the Bo-tree with his enigmatic smile, a symbol of perfect equanimity or tranquility. The supposition is that such persons will draw other people to themselves by virtue of their inner achievement and inner contentment. This image of the perfected holy person conflicts with the New Testament portrayal of Christ, who is always active, even in prayer. He is the Good Shepherd seeking the lost sheep. He is compared to a woman who diligently seeks for the lost coin. Christ is Francis Thompson's "Hound of Heaven" who pursues sinners even into the darkness. In Buddhism, religion is a quest for inner peace, a peace that is apparent in specially holy persons. In Christianity, true religion is a witness - to what God has already done for us and for the whole world in the suffering, death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Those of you who are conversant with process theology and philosophy will know that in these circles love is sometimes described in terms suggestive of a vacuum cleaner, which sucks in almost everything but leaves out the coarse material. Yet agape love does not leave out the coarse material; it sanctifies it.

Although agape is divine in its source, it is both human and divine in its goal. It is directed to God as well as to our neighbor in need. It is particular in its origin, but it is universal in its outreach. It is directed to God even while it is directed to our neighbor. Why? Because we meet God in our neighbor. When agape is directed to God it takes the 1161 form of up-welling joy, thanksgiving and praise. It is not a conscious effort to ascend upward mystically to God; it is being lifted into the very presence of God by free grace.

Some of you may be familiar with the Roman Catholic Carmelite nun of nineteenth-century France, Therese of Lisieux. She had considerable difficulty with the piety of her cloister - its orientation to merit and gaining security through human works. She finally discovered, through her private reading of Scripture, the message of free grace. This is why some of the other nuns felt threatened by her. Her vision represented an attack on the very foundation of their religious life as sisters. Therese expressed discomfort with the metaphor of the stairway to perfection, a product of mystical spirituality. It conveys the impression that heaven must be conquered, that salvation is attained by climbing upwards. She much preferred the metaphor of the lift to heaven - the elevator of free grace. All that is necessary is a simple act of faith. She had not read the Reformers, and if she had she probably would have been reprimanded. Yet she had studied holy Scripture and had come to discern its message. She made the grand discovery echoed in the old gospel song, "Love Lifted Me." We are lifted into the presence of God, into fellowship with Him, through love. [3]

Movements in Love 

There are movements in love. There is an upward movement to God, and there is a downward movement. There is also an outward movement to both neighbor and the world. One of my difficulties with Anders Nygren's celebrated work Agape and Eros [4] is that he makes little if any place for love directed to God. In his interpretation agape is focused only on our neighbor, whereas faith is focused on God. My reading of Scripture tells me that love to God is as crucial as love to our neighbor, perhaps even more so.

The point is that in loving God we do truly love our neighbor. In seeking the glory of God we will seek the welfare of our neighbor. The ancient church father, Irenaeus, put it this way, "The glory of God is man fully alive." There is no separation then between serving God and serving our neighbor. God is glorified when we go out to the lost and forsaken. We need to remember the directive of General William Booth, founder of the Salvation Army: "Go for souls and go for the worst." As we descend into the depths we are actually closer to God than if we would try to lift ourselves by works of merit up to the spiritual realm above the depths, i.e., above our material world. The wondrous story of the gospel is God's descent to earth in the person of His Son and in the person of His Spirit at Pentecost. Once we receive the grace of God that sets us free from the power of sin and death we are then motivated to offer our lives to God as a living sacrifice in thanksgiving for what God has done for us and in us. We are also motivated to share the good news of Christ's glorious coming with all with whom we come in contact. We reach up to clasp the hand of God in thanksgiving, and we reach out to clasp the hands of those who are perishing in order to bring them to a saving knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ.

The Problem of Self Love

What about self-love? Is there a place for such a concept in the Christian life? Many of those who have made accommodation to eros spirituality also make a prominent place for self-love. They will go so far as to say, "You have to learn to love yourself rightly before you can love God." They claim that self-love is actually the basis for all other kinds of love. Even the eminent theologian St. Augustine held that there is a wrong love of self and a right love of self. By the latter he meant the love of the spiritual self or the higher self, which is within us.

We seem to receive a divine sanction for self-love when Jesus gave the great commandment, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind ... And ... You shall love your neighbor as yourself" (Matt. 22:36-39; Luke 10:25-28, NKJ). The question to be asked, however, is whether this is really an injunction to love ourselves or simply an acknowledgment that we naturally love ourselves, and thus we should love our neighbor with the same force that we apply to the service of ourselves.

My perception is that in the New Testament self-love is consistently something to be overcome. We are not commanded to love ourselves, though self-love is recognized as inherent in our very beings. The goal is to rise above this love of self into the love of neighbor and the love of God. When we do this we will have a sense of self-worth, a sense of dignity and of self-identity, but it is derivative worth, not an inherent worth. Our worth, our significance, our status all derive from God and depend completely upon God. We must not seek to advance; to adulate, or to exalt the self.

Invariably the question arises, "Does agape exclude hope?" When we talk about hope, we are, of course, referring to an abiding Christian virtue. Hope really means "hoping for ourselves." Biblical Christians would have difficulty with the French Quietist, Fenelon, who said that we are to "love God without fear and without hope." [5] God wants us to hope for our own salvation, and to hope for the salvation of others. He does not want us to hope for these things as ends in themselves, but rather as means to the advancement of God's kingdom and as means to God's glory. We should be willing to abandon self-salvation for the salvation of the world (cf. Rom. 9:3; Ex. 32:32). Here again we come to the paradox of true love (Matt. 10:39). By losing ourselves we find ourselves in the end. We actually gain our lives when we lose our lives.

Reinhold Niebuhr, who had some profound things to say on the subject of love, concluded that Christianity rules out self-love but not self-realization. [6] Self-realization, however, comes as the byproduct, never the goal. It is the consequence, not the purpose of Christian endeavor.

There is nothing inherently wrong with natural love, the love of self. But due to our sin all natural loves have become questionable, and therefore they must be redeemed. Philia and eros both need to be transformed. A true regard for self breaks self-centeredness! But this true regard for self is no longer self-love, but rather a love that rises above the self. The self, in my opinion, should never be the object of love. The self instead should be the channel of love, or the agent of love.

Love and Faith 

In the Sixteenth-century debate on works and grace, a critical distinction was made between love and faith; The Roman Catholic side seemed to hold that we are justified by faith plus works of love. The Reformers argued that we are justified by faith, indeed only by faith, but it is never a faith without works of love. Another way to phrase this is that we are justified by faith alone and sanctified by faith working through love, or sanctified by works of love.

I would not want to leave the impression that justification by faith alone is the whole of the gospel. I would rather say that it belongs to the essence of the gospel. I make this point because it is important to affirm that the gospel includes sanctification. Luther seemed to say much the same when he warned his followers that Calvary must be supplemented by Pentecost. After the Reformation had crystallized he began to see that many of the people who had accepted his gospel of salvation by free grace alone were living more immoral lives than when they were Catholics. He realized that he had been leaving something out, namely, the power of Pentecost - the cleansing and purifying power of the Holy Spirit. Pentecost needs to be acknowledged, and preached in conjunction with the message of the cross. Faith and love are correlatives: they belong together. So we say of faith that it receives, while love descends. Faith relays, while love creates. God loves us, but we too love in the power of God's love. Our love, our agape love, corresponds with God's love. Our love is an echo of His love, a mirror of His love. Once it is separated from God, human love becomes simply mutual love. Mutual love is a good thing, for it is surely better than no love at all. Yet it is not redeeming love. We are redeemed only by God's love for us, not by our love for God or by our love for our neighbor. Yet our love for both God and neighbor is a sign of God's love for us.

Faith is the root, love is the fruit. Faith is the foundation, love is the flower that blooms, the evidence of whether our faith is false or genuine. Faith works through love, and love works from faith and toward faith. Love works toward faith because all who love will seek to share the gospel of redemption and reconciliation with those they meet. As I have already said, we are justified by faith, but we are sanctified by love.

Love and Hope

I wish now to delve more deeply into the mystery of the relationship of love and hope. The three theological virtues, so-called, are faith, hope and love. In evangelical Protestantism we do not actually see these three as virtues but rather as gifts from God. In another sense they are works. Why? Because faith means believing, and that is, in one sense, a work. Love means exercising or practicing something. Hope is a work, too, in the sense that hope involves actually hoping. Hope, furthermore, is a direct fruit of faith (Rom. 5:4-5).

Rudolph Bultmann, one of the twentieth century's most influential biblical scholars, had some profound insights into Paul's conception of hope. (I acknowledge that Bultmann's overall system was heretical, but we need to remember that there is a remnant of orthodoxy in every heresy, just as there is a taint of heresy in every orthodoxy.)
Hope is the trust in God which turns away from itself and the world, which waits patiently for God's gift, and which, when he has given it, does not consider it to be a possession of one's own disposal but is confidently assured that God also will maintain what He has bestowed. [7] 
Both hope and faith look toward receiving. Eros, on the other hand, always looks toward obtaining. There is a proper altruism in true hope. When we hope, we should hope for the salvation of others as well as ourselves. We hope for our own salvation because this is God's will and this redounds to God's glory.

It is important to note the very real differences between natural hope and spiritual hope. Spiritual hope is centered in God. It is theocentric, not anthropocentric. Furthermore, spiritual hope has a social dimension. It is not just personal or individual. We hope not just for ourselves but for the coming of the kingdom and the triumph of the kingdom in the world. Luther said it well, "To give much is His delight and glory, and He is pleased if we expect much good from Him." [8]

God is pleased when we hope for ourselves, for others and for the triumph of His kingdom. Some years ago I asked one of my brightest students at Dubuque Theological Seminary to write a paper on hope. His paper contained this very profound statement: "Far from being anthropocentric this hope represents the very abandonment of the self and its center in favor of the Christocentric working of God's Spirit." I wholeheartedly agree!

This is precisely where I have another criticism of Anders Nygren. He speaks much about love and much about faith but leaves out the element of hope. I think he does this for a purpose. He wants to make agape completely theocentric, i.e., completely centered in God. Yet when one speaks of hope one really has to include the self in some way. A genuinely Christian perspective is really theoanthropocentric because Christian life is centered in God and humanity at one and the same time.

Paradoxical Aspects of Love

I would like now to examine more closely the paradoxes associated with agape. It is both submission and conquest. It is both self-emptying and self-fulfilling. It contains both sorrow and joy. Jesus wept over Jerusalem. He went to the cross in sorrow, almost at the point of despair, yet the angels in heaven were singing because they saw in His cross the defeat of Satan. They witnessed the glory of the cross. Love is both upward and downward. It goes up to God and down to those in need.

Furthermore, love is both motivated and unmotivated. Anders Nygren spends much time insisting that agape is unmotivated. There is nothing that motivates God to love us. There is no worth in ourselves that wins His sympathy and favor. Yet we need to recognize that love has a motivation all its own. Its goal is to uproot sin and to make us holy, i.e., to transform us into God's very image. God loves us while we are still in our sins, but He loves us so much that He will not leave us in our sins. He lifts us up to a new foundation. He creates in us a clean heart. He cleanses us by His Spirit.

This paradoxical love of the cross that I have been speaking of is preeminently exemplified in Jesus Christ Himself. It is seen most gloriously in His sacrificial life and death. He was both victor and victim. He was both priest and sacrifice. He was both Lord and servant. He was and is both Lion and Lamb.

P. T. Forsyth, the Scottish Congregationalist preacher and eminent theologian, observed that "In Christ God did not send a message of His love which cost the messenger His life but Himself loved us to the death and to our eternal redemption." An insightful statement; isn't it? Christ is not merely the foremost example of love, the model of love. He is the Savior who delivered us by His love.

Finally, there is joy in agape love, joy in the practice of the love of the cross. There is joy in God's love for us, and there is joy in our love for God. There is joy in service to our neighbor as well. But we do not serve our neighbor in order to find joy and happiness. That would be to go back to the anthropocentric kind of thinking that we have already seen is detrimental to the life of faith. We serve simply out of love, simply because we care. We serve because the Holy Spirit has planted within us a caring concern for others. This distinction is supremely important. Joy and happiness come as the fruit, the by-product. They are the evidence of something deeper within us that is the gift of love. This gift is really the gift of Jesus Christ Himself, who lives within us by His Spirit.

Agape love is both unilateral and bilateral. By unilateral I mean that it proceeds outward, whether the other person responds or not. This is the key to understanding agape love. At the same time, agape does seek to create a relationship with the other person. There is, then, this bilateral dimension.

Paul Tillich, a mid-twentieth-century theologian and philosopher whose influence is still vast on the academic scene, sought to accommodate the gospel to Hellenism, to incorporate within the gospel both biblical and Hellenistic motifs. He tried to make a place for both agape and eros. In the end he regrettably subordinated agape to eros. Tillich basically defined love as the desire for union with the valuable. [10] By this he meant union with God, the being who has preeminent value. But is that what love is in the New Testament? Love is not desire at all. Love is the readiness to give and to serve, as the Holy Spirit moves within us and directs us. Luther was right in saying, "Good work is done when one neither intends nor knows it." [11] There is something spontaneous about agape love. You do not stop to reflect upon it, you simply do it. Agape love is always love in action.

Tillich saw the symbol of love as a flock of birds soaring off into the sky. But that again is not agape, it is eros. In the wider Platonic tradition love is sometimes depicted as an arrow shot into the sky toward heaven. But love is downward as well as upward. It is upward only when we are being lifted upward by the Spirit to God.

I take exception to Bernard of Clairvaux's assertion that the highest kind of love is the love of self for the sake of God. [12] Loving ourselves for the sake of God is not New Testament teaching. Bernard believed that we can attain a perfected love of self, but this is still remaining within the self. True love, Christian love, drives one out of the self into the needs and aspirations of one's neighbor, or it is simply not agape.

Moreover, I do not wish to say with the venerable theologian St. Augustine, "The more we love God the more we love ourselves." I would rather say, "The more we love God the more we will forget ourselves, especially as we concentrate on service to others."

May God give us clear insight to understand the nature of the wondrous love of Calvary, and may His Spirit move us to love both Him and our neighbor with the supernatural love of the cross.

Author 

Donald G. Bloesch is professor of theology emeritus at Dubuque (Iowa) Theological Seminary. He has written numerous books, including Essentials of Evangelical Theology, The Future of Evangelical Christianity, The Struggle of Prayer and Freedom for Obedience. He holds a Ph. D. from the University of Chicago and has done postdoctoral work at the Universities of Oxford, Tilbingen and Basel. He is presently writing a seven-volume theology, of which three volumes are now available from InterVarsity Press under the theme "Christian Foundations."

Endnotes
  1. Quoted in Jurgen Moltmann in his The Crucified God, trans. R. A. Wilson and John Bowden (New York: Harper & Row, 1974), 214. See Luther, Heidelberg Disputation, xxviii. 
  2. E. Kockritz, "In Thy Service, Lord of Mercy," The Evangelical Hymnal, ed. David Bruening (St. Louis: Eden Publishing House, 1922), No. 322. 
  3. The Autobiography of Saint Therese of Lisieux: The Story of a Soul, trans. and ed. John Beevers (New York: Doubleday, 1989), 49, 56, 92, 114. 
  4. Anders Nygren, Agape and Eros, trans. Philip S. Watson, (philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1953). 
  5. In Gerald Heard, A Preface to Prayer (New York: Harper & Bros., 1944), 200. Cf. Francois Fenelon, Christian Perfection, trans. Mildred Whitney Stillman, ed. Charles F. Whiston (New York: Harper, 1947), 143. 
  6. Reinhold· Niebuhr, An Interpretation of Christian Ethics, (1935; reprint New York: Seabury/Crossroad, 1979), 33. 
  7. Rudolf Btiltmann and Karl Heinrich Rengstorf, Hope, trans. Dorothea M. Barton (London: Adam and Charles Black, 1963), 37. 
  8. What Luther Says, ed. Ewald M. Plass (St. Louis: Concordia, 1959), 2: 1089. 
  9. P. T. Forsyth, "Faith, Metaphysic, and Incarnation," Methodist Review 97 (New York: September 1915), 708. 
  10. Paul Tillich, Love, Power and Justice (New York: Oxford University Press, 1954), 30-31. 
  11. In Heinrich Boehmer, Road to Reformation, trans. John W Doberstein and Theodore G. Tappert (philadelphia: Muhlenberg, 1946), 163.
  12. Bernard of Clairvaux: Selected Works, trans. & ed. G. R. Evans (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), 195-97.