Naturalistic interpretations of religion tend to stress
the gradual nature of the work of grace in the life of man.
This has a great show of rationality as we can easily see that
the operations of the laws of nature are gradual in their
process. But believers in spiritual religion stress the crisis
experiences of the human soul for the very reason that herein
most especially does the life of mankind differ from the
necessary course of nature. It's this difference which
naturalistic teachers seek to obscure and explain away,
whereas those who believe in a personal God and in the unique
character of the human soul, its freedom and its special
personal relationship to God, must emphasize crisis
experiences in religion as being most consistent with the
spiritual nature of man.
We believe it's possible to defend the idea that there are
no crises in nature. The things which seem like crises are not
such, strictly speaking, but merely analogies of the crises of
human life. One might argue that an explosion which fires a
gun, for example, is a real example of crisis in the natural
world. Before the explosion all the factors involved are
perfectly at rest, without any tension whatsoever. An old
loaded cartridge will lie unchanged for a whole lifetime and
then explode suddenly if properly handled. Is not that
explosion a true example of crisis? To this the answer is, no.
All the factors which contributed to the explosion, except the
trivial shock which set it off, were in a perfectly orderly
arrangement and each element did exactly what the laws of
nature indicated, at the very instant that the spark touched
them. There was no creative moment of choice; there was only
the orderly fulfillment of the inexorable law. This's not a
crisis; it's simply the analogy of a crisis, such as can
happen only in the soul of a human being.
Take, for example, the crisis in the life of a man who
becomes a murderer. Previous to the decisive act there arises
a tremendous tension of emotion in the mind of the man who
regards himself as having suffered injury or as being exposed
to such a danger. Instead of having only one choice like the
elements in the gunpowder, he has a number of choices besides
that of doing murder. In the tension of the moment, murder is
the choice he makes. This is the meaning of crisis: that at
one dramatic moment in a man's life he'll make a choice for
evil or for good, or perhaps even a choice in temporal matters
involving no moral element, but a choice which must inevitably
mold all his future and impose limitations on all his later
range of choices.
Think of a few of these crises in the natural life of a
man: the decision to go to college, the decision to follow a
certain trade or profession, the decision to marry a certain
person. In addition to these, there are certain moral crises
in the life of men. There is the decisive step when a man
decides to give up drinking or when a trusted employee decides
to resist or to yield to temptation to dishonesty. No one can
deny that such crises as these make and shape the destiny of
men. We contend that it is as unlikely that a man should be
saved and become a Christian without experiencing a crisis in
his life as that a man should enter the bonds of matrimony
without passing through any life crisis. We grant that some
people may accept the state of matrimony with such complete
assent of the mind that they are perhaps not conscious of any
emotional tension, but that's not the point. Such an
experience is a crisis, regardless of the state of one's mind.
JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH
The crisis which ushers a man into the state of Salvation
is only one single experience entered into by the whole man,
but to change the figure, it might be thought of as a great
palace with many different approaches. The palace can't fully
be understood without viewing each of its different sides.
Likewise, in religious language the experience of salvation is
called "justification by faith," "forgiveness of sins,"
"conversion, regeneration," "adoption," "redemption," and
possibly by other names, depending upon the viewpoint which
one takes in studying its nature. It's important to remember
that these are not several gifts of God which come to us
through different doors of our heart, but they are many phases
of one experience of the grace of God, instantaneously
bestowed in the supreme crisis of human life.
Justification by faith describes the legal, or judicial,
side of the change which happens to a man when his sins are
forgiven. It's the change which takes place in the mind of God
as judge, by which a man's sins are pardoned and he is no
longer accounted a sinner. This's what it means to be
justified by faith and have peace with God (Rom. 5:1).
"But now the righteousness of God without the law is
manifested, being witnessed by the law and the prophets; even
the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ
unto all and upon all them that believe . ... being justified
freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ
Jesus: whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through
faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the
remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of
God ... Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith
without the deeds of the law" (Rom. 3:21-28).
The law is holy and just and good (Rom. 7:12). If it were
possible for any man to keep it in his natural state, that
fact would be a complete justification for that man, but it's
the unyielding contention of Paul and of the other New
Testament writers that in his own natural strength no man can
keep this law. Therefore the righteousness of the law can
never avail to justify any man. "To him that worketh not,"
says Paul, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly,
his faith is counted for righteousness' (Rom. 4:5). Then we
read of the man to whom God imputeth righteousness without
works (vs. 6).
"Blessed is the man to whom the Lord will not impute sin"
(vs. 8).
"Now it was not written for his sake alone, that it was
imputed to him; but for us also, to whom it shall be imputed,
if we believe on him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the
dead" (vss. 23-24).
This doctrine of imputation here and elsewhere in the Roman
letter has been taken to mean that Christ's personal
righteousness is imputed to us. This is of a piece with the
theory that the guilt of Adam's sin has been transferred to
the whole race. Such ideas revolt the conscience of modern
men; to think that an unborn child should be guilty of a sin
which Adam committed is an impossible strain on the minds of
most intelligent men. To "impute" means to account or reckon.
Men often make mistakes in their reckoning, but God never
reckons anything to be so, nor accounts anything to be true,
unless it's really true. There are three forms of imputation
in the Epistle to the Romans. There is first the imputation of
the consequences of Adam's sins upon the human race; second,
the imputation of the consequences and penalty of the sin of
the human race upon Christ; and third, the imputation of the
consequences of Christ's atoning passion upon all that
believe. It's important to distinguish the difference between
the penalty and the consequences. A man may be a quarrelsome,
brawling person. In a fight he gets his hand injured for life.
For that brawl the judge sentences him to jail for six months.
The jail sentence is a penalty for that sin and the life-long
crippling of his hand is a consequence of that sin. The judge
could suspend the penalty, but he couldn't suspend the
consequences. Because the man has lost the use of one hand he
is impoverished; his children grow up in a poverty-stricken
neighborhood, lacking many advantages. All these are
consequences of that one sin. His children don't bear the
guilt of that sin, but they do suffer the consequences, and
such was the result of the sin of Adam upon the human race. To
deny that good people can suffer the consequences of the
wrongdoing of evil people, although not their guilt, is to
deny what our eyes witness every day: the suffering of the
innocent, because of the evildoing of the wicked, such as that
of parents or children or near relatives.
Justification is not, therefore, the imputation of the
personal righteousness of Christ any more than the imputation
of Adam's sin to mankind is an imputation of the guilt of his
transgression. The atonement of Christ redeems us from the
consequences of Adam's sin and from the guilt of our own. Its
benefits are imputed to us when we trust in God's saving grace
in the Lord Jesus Christ.
Forgiveness of sins is only another description of
justification by faith. Paul delighted in exalting this
glorious experience. Sometimes he describes it as "being
united with Christ" in his death and in his resurrection. (See
the sixth chapter of Romans.) The mystical union of the
Christian with Christ must not be thought of as an
identification of our person with his. This is the teaching of
classical mysticism. It would mean the destruction of human
personality. Paul makes his meaning clear when in another case
he describes marriage as creating a unity of the persons
married (Eph. 5:31). We all know that the husband and wife
don't lose their personalities. As long as they live, and
throughout eternity, each will be a separate individual.
Nevertheless, they do experience a peculiar state of unity,
requiring perfect faith and love for its ideal fulfillment. In
the same chapter Paul describes our union with Christ as being
analogous to that of a husband and wife to each other.
Elsewhere the Apostle writes of
"Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and
righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption" (I Cor.
1:30). By his indwelling grace Christ imparts the spiritual
fruits of his own supernatural life.
"The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace,
long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness,
temperance" (Gal. 5:22-23a).
Undoubtedly these are the result of the indwelling Christ,
who dwells in the heart by faith (Eph. 3:17). We assert as
strongly as possible the necessity and reality of this
impartation of spiritual life to the soul. What we deny is
that Christ's personal righteousness becomes a substitute for
holy living and godly behavior in the saints. The
righteousness of Christ which is thus imputed to them is the
effect of Christ's atoning passion granted to them as a gift
on condition of faith.
The old-time Wesleyan preachers taught that there were four
types of justification, each restricted to a definite period
of a man's life. "In considering this subject," writes Bishop
S. M. Merrill, "we must remember that there are several
distinct justifications taught in the Scriptures. The first is
the 'free gift,' which, through the righteousness of one,
'came upon all men unto justification of life.' This's
generally called the initial or infantile justification as it
includes the entire human family, placing them in a state of
freedom from condemnation and starting them in life exempt
from liability to punishment, either for the sin of Adam or
for their own inherited evil nature. The second is the
justification of the sinner in the sense of pardon and
personal acceptance. This is the justification in question,
which is by faith only. The third is the justification of the
righteous, in the sense of approval. This is by works, or
obedience as a result of a living faith. The fourth has
respect to the transactions of the day of judgment. At that
time men will be justified or condemned according to their
works. The reason of this final justification of the righteous
will not be found in themselves, but in the Savior as its
source; nevertheless, the decision will be according to the
deeds done in the body, or upon the testimony of works as the
fruit of faith." [40] This distinction may be useful to some
by helping to explain a multitude of texts dealing with the
various aspects of justification if we bear in mind that for
the sinner seeking Christ there is no justification except
justification by faith as a free and unmerited pardon granted
as a gift from God.
THE CONDITIONAL JUSTIFICATION OF CHILDREN
It's the teaching of the New Testament that the atonement
of Christ was made on behalf of all men:
"We see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels
for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor; that
he by the grace of God should taste death for every man" (Heb.
2:9).
"Therefore as by the offense of one judgment came upon all
men to condemnation; even so by the righteousness of one the
free gift came upon all men unto justification of life" (Rom.
5:18).
It is perfectly proper to ask what this atonement means in
the case of infants. Christ said of little children that "of
such is the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. 19:14); "except ye be
converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter
into the kingdom of heaven" (18:3). Nevertheless, as we have
shown elsewhere, complete justification is everywhere offered
on the term of voluntary acceptance by faith. Men are exhorted
to seek for it as for a hidden treasure. They're required to
repent and pray for forgiveness (Acts 8:22). Inasmuch as
little children cannot meet these requirements, the question
arises as to their standing under the atonement.
We believe that all infants are conditionally justified
under the atonement. That is, they are offered justification
on condition that they accept it in accordance with its normal
obligations as soon as they reach the age of accountability.
However, if they die before reaching that age the benefits of
the atonement, including regeneration, justification, and
entire sanctification, fall to them as a gift of the grace of
God which they have never rejected and which they receive
because they die passive under the atonement. To say that
infants are fully justified and regenerated merely by reason
of the fact that they're infants is just as unreasonable as to
say that they're wholly sanctified for the same reason. Nobody
teaches that children are wholly sanctified by reason of their
infantile innocence, and by the same reasoning we dare not say
that they're justified and regenerated in the complete,
definite sense of adult believers. But they are conditionally
justified under the grace of the atonement so that they will
receive the full benefits of that atonement if they die
passive under the atonement without ever rejecting it. If they
live, however, to exercise their option they must accept
justification, regeneration and entire sanctification
voluntarily, under the terms of the gospel, if they are ever
consciously to enjoy the full privileges of this expression of
the grace of God. They're like the heirs under a conditional
will containing the option of a choice when they reach the
legal age. No one can foresee what option these heirs will
choose. They may even reject the will entirely, but until they
come of an age to choose their option they're heirs under the
will.
REGENERATION
The term "justification" refers to something outward or
objective which is done for man by the judicial sentence of
pardon for remission of his sins, while "regeneration" refers
to the corresponding work of grace by which his heart is
changed. It's the consistent teaching of Scripture and the
well-nigh universal belief of the representative teachers of
Christianity that sin exists in two forms: as acts of
disobedience on the one hand and as a state of nonconformity
to God's ideal and perfect will on the other. In the very
nature of the case this distinction is bound to make confusion
in the thinking of the uninstructed and the careless.
Nevertheless, no intelligent person can ponder the matter very
long without seeing that there is indeed a connection and yet
a difference between sinful acts and a tendency to sin. It's
at this point that this confusion arises over the formation of
a definition of regeneration. Many theologians define
regeneration in such a way as to include entire
sanctification, although most of them concede, and even
assert, that regeneration is not the completion of entire
sanctification and at the best cannot be more than the
beginning of that experience. If we lower the standard of
regeneration too far we shall make the mistake of confusing
the church and the world. Nevertheless, if we raise it too
high we shall find that we're describing a state of entire
sanctification, which the experience of regenerated believers
and the teaching of the Word of God will not sustain. "With
respect to regeneration," writes Dr. R. H. Foster, "that is a
work done in us, in the way of changing our inward nature; a
work by which a spiritual life is unused into the soul,
whereby he (the regenerate) brings forth the peaceable fruits
of righteousness, has victory over sin, is enabled to resist
corrupt tendencies, and has peace and joy in the Holy Ghost; a
radical change by which the preponderating tendencies of the
soul are turned toward God, whereas they were previously
turned from him -- by which the love of sin is destroyed, its
dominion broken, and a desire and relish for and longing after
holiness implanted." [41]
"We've said that each transgression of the law of God, on
the part of a responsible moral agent, both condemns and
pollutes his soul. No doubt of this truth has ever been
expressed by any intelligent Christian. Each sinner is
responsible for the guilt and pollution thus brought on
himself. God cannot approve him as his child till both the one
and the other are swept away by atoning blood. It is therefore
quite as important that the pollution of his sins should be
cleansed, as their guilt should be forgiven. The internal
cleansing is the counterpart of pardon from without, and one
is just as perfect as the other. To illustrate: if a sinner
has committed just forty thousand sins, he's responsible to
God for the guilt and pollution of just forty thousand sins;
no more, no less. In the act of pardon, the guilt of forty
thousand sins is completely forgiven; no more -- no less. In
the cleansing work of regeneration the pollution of just forty
thousand sins is completely washed away; no more, no less. The
work of pardon is, therefore, infinite in its application to
past sins; and the work of cleansing equally." [42]
Sometimes the doctrine of regeneration is so interpreted as
to signify that the very structure and existence of the soul
is annihilated and the man's existence as a human being begins
all over again. To press these figures of speech to such an
extreme is to deny other truths fully as important. If God
annihilates the man who was a sinner in the experience of
regeneration, why might he not annihilate other men without
starting them over again? Undoubtedly spiritual truth must
always be understood by the medium of parables or figures of
speech. To strain them to a point of absurdity by making them
literal is to destroy their spiritual meaning. That's what
Christ's hearers did when they rejected his teachings because
they thought he meant that they were to turn cannibals and eat
his physical flesh with their literal teeth (John 6:35-66).
This same obstacle stumbled Nicodemus in regard to the very
question we are discussing, namely, being born again.
Nicodemus took it literally, as we are in danger of doing.
Nearly all the leading authorities describe this experience of
regeneration as being an impartation of divine life to the
soul, and this is in harmony with the Scriptures. Probably
evangelical Christians have focused the most of their
attention upon Christ's famous figure of the new birth in his
teaching to Nicodemus:
"Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born
again, he cannot see the kingdom of God" (John 3:3).
And this is an important scripture to remember in all
teaching concerning regeneration.
It is, however, just as important to remember that
regeneration is often described as a reception by the soul of
something imparted or implanted by God. The famous Parable of
the Sower in the thirteenth chapter of Matthew is an
illustration of this truth. The soil receives the seed, which
grows because it is hospitably received. This is the
"engrafted word, which's able to save your soul" (Jas. 1:21).
"Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Col. 1:27). It's Christ
formed in you (Gal. 4:19). This's what it means to become
partakers of the divine nature (II Pet. 1:4). Paul exhorts us
to "put on the new man, which after God is created in
righteousness and true holiness" (Eph. 4:24). And he says that
the Colossians have put on the new man (Col. 3:10). It is an
experience in which we who were dead in sin are quickened
together with Christ (Eph. 2:5).
"A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I
put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of
your flesh, and I'll give you an heart of flesh" (Ezek.
36:26).
"I will give them an heart to know me, that I am the Lord:
and they shall be my people, and I will be their God: for they
shall return unto me with their whole heart" (Jer. 24:7).
These are all examples of an implantation of grace or
blessing into the being of the man. The same thought is borne
out in the following verse:
"I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in
their hearts.... for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will
remember their sin no more" (Jer. 31:33-34). "I will give them
one heart, and I will put a new spirit within you; and I will
take the stony heart out of their flesh, and will give them an
heart of flesh: that they may walk in my statutes ... and they
shall be my people, and I will be their God" (Ezek. 11:19-20).
We believe these instances are sufficient to show that it
is not contrary to the tenor of Scripture to describe
regeneration as an impartation of a new life into the soul.
Bearing this thought in mind, we turn to other figures
describing this tremendous crisis which changes a worldly
person into a child of God. Christ said:
"Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye
shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. 18:3).
John explains:
"As many as received him, to them gave he power to become
the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: which
were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of
the will of man, but of God (John 1:12-13).
Christ described this as the birth of the Spirit (3:3-7).
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again
unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from
the dead" (I Pet 1:3).
ADOPTION
While the other writers of the New Testament frequently
describe the new life of salvation under the figure of a new
birth, Paul uses that expression only once: "the washing of
regeneration" (Titus 3:5). Many writers refer this to baptism,
but having in mind the Jewish background of the Apostle Paul
it is evident that he was thinking of the laver which stood at
the door of the Tabernacle (Exod. 40:7), between the
Tabernacle and the altar (30:18). Undoubtedly Paul meant to
connect this laver of cleansing with the altar where sacrifice
was made for sin. The Tabernacle was a type of the church and
all Christians are priests (I Pet. 2:5-9), but no priest could
enter the Tabernacle until he'd first passed the altar and
washed in the laver (Exod. 30:20):
"When they go into the tabernacle of the congregation, they
shall wash with water, that they die not."
Paul, being enamored of his Roman citizenship, illustrates
regeneration by the figure of adoption, as adoption was a
common ceremony under Roman law. It's likely that his own
family came into Roman citizenship by that process, therefore
he writes to the Roman Christians:
"Ye have received the Spirit of adoption" (Rom. 8:15).
God hath sent forth his son "to redeem them that were under
the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons. And
because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son
into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father. Wherefore thou art no
more a servant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir of God
through Christ" (Gal. 4:5-7).
This adoption was not a mere casual thought in the mind of
God, but a deep purpose running through eternity:
"He has chosen us in him before the foundation of the
world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in
love: having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by
Jesus Christ to himself" (Eph. 1:4-5).
It is the firm conviction of all Wesleyan theologians that
this predestination is the predetermined purpose of God to
have a people, likewise his purpose to present the gospel for
acceptance or rejection by whosoever will. It's an election of
opportunity, and not an election of unreasoning fate. This
adoption is the admission of those who were strangers and
foreigners into the full rights and privileges of the sons of
God. It takes those who were children of their father, the
devil, and transfers them into the kingdom of God's dear Son
and makes them no longer
"strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the
saints, and of the household of God" (Eph. 2:19).
THE WITNESS OF THE SPIRIT
In all his dealings with the churches of his time, Paul
never prays for the forgiveness of their sins; he constantly
assumes that the Christians to whom he writes are saved from
sin and that they are fully assured and clearly conscious of
that fact. These Christians
"have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but
ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba,
Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit,
that we are the children of God" (Rom. 8:15-16).
This is a conviction created in the heart by the Holy
Spirit, assuring the soul of forgiveness and acceptance with
God. For he has "sent forth the Spirit of his Son into our
hearts, crying, Abba, Father" (Gal. 4:6). This assurance is
experienced because
"we have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear;
but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry,
Abba, Father."
Freedom from bondage and freedom from fear are marks of the
indwelling power of the Spirit which gives the assurance of
salvation.
"He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in
himself" (I John 5:10).
This is the Spirit that beareth witness. In addition to the
witness of God's Spirit, there is the witness of our own
spirit.
"And hereby we know that we are of the truth, and shall
assure bur hearts before him. For if our heart condemn us, God
is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things. Beloved, if
our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence toward God"
(I John 3:19-21).
The Apostle Paul knew himself to be clear in his conscience
for
"our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience"
(II Cor. 1:12).
And again he says:
"I say the truth in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also,
bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost" (Rom. 9:1).
Part of the witness of our own spirit is the peace of God:
"Great peace have they which love thy law: and nothing
shall offend them" (Ps. 119:165).
"Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with
God" (Rom. 5:1).
We have the kingdom of God within us (Luke 17:21). And,
"the kingdom of God is not meat and drink; but
righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost" (Rom.
14:17).
"The God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in
believing" (15:13).
"And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,
shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus" (Phil.
4:7).
On account of these things,
"we know that we have passed from death unto life, because
we love the brethren" (I John 3:14).
"There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are
in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the
Spirit" (Rom. 8:1).
It must be remembered that these spiritual privileges are
enjoyed in different degrees by every Christian. That's to
say, the witness of the Spirit is the same to all just as the
sun is the same to all, but as some people have better
eyesight to benefit by the light of the sun, so some
Christians are more spiritual and thus better able to
appropriate these privileges of the assurance of salvation.
It'd be a pity if this doctrine, meant to sustain and comfort
the hearts of the saints, should be misinterpreted so as to
become a burden instead of a consolation. This gracious
witness of the Spirit should not be confused with the varying
and changing tides of human emotion. As the poet has said: The
tides of emotion may dim as they will, The Son and the Father
abide with me still I dare not confide in a rapturous frame,
But trust in the promise, forever the same.
And an unshaken faith is the prime necessity for the making
of this promise fruitful to the soul.
THE CHRISTIAN IS SAVED FROM SIN
If Christians used the same common sense in discussing
salvation that they use in talking about other things, there
never could arise the question, What's the thing from which a
saved person is saved? and yet, strange as it may seem, the
vast mass of Christians, both lay people and teachers, regard
it as a closed question. Saved people aren't saved from
anything, according to the popular belief. In any case,
they're not saved from sin, because it's said that all men
sin. And one might even say that Christians sin worse than
other men because they have more light and more privileges.
They are more sensitive to the light against which they
constantly sin. So we have the strange paradox which maintains
that the better Christian the man is, the bigger sinner he
will think himself to be. And they tell us that the greatest
saint of the New Testament was Paul, who confessed himself
"the chief of sinners." This is not the kind of paradox often
found in the Bible which represents only a seeming
contradiction th at can be resolved by understanding both
sides of the question. Instead, this is the kind of double
talk which makes worldly people scoff at Christianity as being
unreasonable and absurd.
But such was not the teaching of the ancient church.
Ignatius, A.D. 30-107, lived at such an early age that there
was a tradition that he was the infant whom Christ took up and
blessed (Matt. 18:2). Ignatius continued the New Testament
teaching against sinning Christianity. After stressing faith
and love, he writes: "All other things which are requisite for
the holy life follow after them. No man (truly) making a
profession of faith sinneth; nor does he that possesses love
hate anyone. The tree is made manifest by its fruit; so those
that profess themselves to be Christians shall be recognized
by their conduct. For there's not now a demand for mere
profession, but that a man be found continuing in the power of
faith to the end." [43] Justin Martyr, A.D. 110-165, was a
converted heathen philosopher who gave his life as a martyr
for Christ after a long and faithful ministry of Christian
missionary work. He writes: "But there is no other (way) than
this -- to become acquainted with this Christ, to be washed in
the fountain spoken of by Isaiah for the remission of sins;
and for the rest, to live sinless lives." [44] The same writer
also says: "And let those who are not found living as He
taught, be understood to be no Christians, even though they
profess with the lip the precepts of Christ." [45] Testimony
of this kind from the Fathers of the primitive church could be
multiplied indefinitely, but one won't find much help in such
research from the older scholars because most of them were
influenced by dogmatic bias which prevented their sorting out
and emphasizing these passages. Modern critical scholars,
however, have been quick to see and admit that the ancient
church believed and taught a sinless life as a standard for
its membership.
Dr. Adolph Harnack is undoubtedly the greatest Protestant
church historian since the days of Neander. He writes: "The
baptized person must remain pure, or (as 2 Clement, e. g.,
puts it) 'keep the seal pure and intact.' " [46] In the same
volume Harnack writes: "Justin, however, declares that baptism
is only for those who have actually ceased to sin." [47]
Continuing in the same volume the writer explains how the
standard was let down. Referring to the Christians of that
time he says: "The three characteristic titles, however, are
those of 'saints,' 'brethren,' and 'the church of God,' all of
which hang together. The abandonment of the term 'disciples'
for these self-chosen titles marks the most significant
advance made by those who believed in Jesus They took the name
of 'saints,' because they were sanctified by God and for God
through the Holy Spirit sent by Jesus, and because they were
conscious of being truly holy and partakers in the future
glory ... It [saints) remains the technical term applied by
Christians to one another till after the middle of the second
century; thereafter it gradually disappears, as Christians had
no longer the courage to call themselves 'saints,' after all
that had happened. Besides, what really distinguished
Christians from one another by this time was the difference
between the clergy and the laity (or the leaders and the led),
so that the name 'saints' became quite obliterated; it was
only recalled in hard times of persecution. In its place,
'Holy orders' arose (martyrs, confessors, ascetics, and
finally -- during the third century -- the bishops), while
'holy media' (sacraments), whose fitful influence covered
Christians who were personally unholy, assumed still greater
prominence than in the first century. People were no longer
conscious of being personally holy, but then they had holy
martyrs, holy ascetics, holy priests, holy ordinances, holy
writings, and a holy doctrine." [48]
The same author in his famous History of Dogma writes:
"Because Christendom is a community of saints which has in its
midst the sure salvation, all its members -- this is the
necessary inference -- must lead a sinless life." [49] The
famous New Testament scholar, Dr. Johannes Weiss, writes:
"Nothing is more remote from the Apostle's [Paul's] purpose
than the fostering of confession of sins. The great confession
of human sinfulness in Romans 7:14-25 is not that of a
Christian; here is a condition of things which have been
conquered." [50] "Certainly, according to Paul's conception,
the true spiritual Christian in whom the Spirit is everything
and the flesh is nonexistent, can't sin." [51] In fact, we can
trace the exact point where the doctrine that all Christians
must sin first entered the church. Windisch says that Origen
(d. A.D. 254) legitimized the position of sinners in the
church.
This amazing change of spiritual climate and attitude from
the days of the apostolic church to our own time is well set
forth by Dr. Arthur Cushman McGiffert. Dr. McGiffert was long
professor of church history in Union Theological Seminary, New
York, and has written largely on the history of Christian
doctrine. "The significance of Luther's position at this
point," he writes, "lies in the fact that he claimed to be
already saved, not because already pure and righteous, but on
other grounds altogether, and while still continuing to be
impure and unrighteous. This constitutes the great difference
between him and the Apostle Paul. Paul, too, thought of
salvation as a present possession and of the Christian as
already saved, but the ground of his salvation was moral
transformation, not divine forgiveness. By the indwelling of
the Spirit the Christian is not merely in process of
sanctification, but is actually changed already into a holy
being, or, in other words, is already saved. Paul was moved
primarily by moral considerations, as Luther was not. To Paul
the one dreadful thing was the corruption of the flesh to
which the natural man is subject. To be freed from it by the
agency of divine power -- this and this alone meant salvation.
The influence of Paul, or the influence of the same forces
which he felt, continued to dominate Christian thought, and
salvation was always interpreted by Catholic theology, if not
always by the Catholic populace, as salvation from sin. But
the consciousness of sin was too general, and the sense of the
divine presence and power too feeble to permit the heroic
faith of Paul to continue, and salvation was inevitably pushed
into the future, and the transformation of human nature was
thought of as a gradual process completed only in another
world. Luther broke with the Catholic theory, not by going
back to Paul and asserting a present and instantaneous
sanctification, but by repudiating altogether the Pauline and
Catholic notion of salvation, and making it wholly a matter of
divine forgiveness rather than of human character." [52]
It is significant that these admissions concerning the
teachings of the apostolic church regarding freedom from sin
are all cited from the foremost modern historical scholars in
the Protestant church.
These references have made the development very clear: the
ancient apostolic church believed that salvation was salvation
from sin and from sinning, and that it is enjoyed now in this
present world. As the weary ages rolled onward the standard
was gradually lowered; sin and worldliness crept into the
assemblies of the Christians. In due course of time they felt
ashamed to profess to be saved from sin now; still they
believed that, properly speaking, salvation meant salvation
from sin. Therefore they reasoned that the whole life on earth
is a preparation for salvation in the future life. If a
Christian man dies in a very advanced state of spiritual grace
he will be saved and go to heaven at the end of his earthly
life. Judging, however, by their observation and their own
experience, they finally came to regard such a possibility as
extremely remote. Only the rarest saints would, they thought,
die and go directly to heaven. For the vast majority of
professing Christians there would be a longer or shorter
period of purgation of sin in purgatory, after which they
would attain to salvation and then go to heaven. Nevertheless,
for some fifteen hundred years one truth was held firmly:
namely, salvation is from sin. However, this truth was held in
company with so many superstitious and unscriptural theories
that Luther threw away a precious grain of truth with the
chaff and started anew, with the truth that salvation is here
and now in this life. But he thought that salvation is not
from sin but in sin. That's to say, the Christian's salvation
from sin is a hope rather than a definite present experience.
And it'is sad to realize that many able Christian teachers
continue to hold this teaching in our own day. James Arminius,
in the seventeenth century, and following him, John Wesley, in
the eighteenth, carried the torch back to the truth of the
apostolic church. These great scholars said salvation is
salvation from sin and that it's experienced now in the
present life. That takes us back to the doctrine of John and
of Paul, the glorious freedom and liberty of the sons of God,
taught over and over again by the writers of the New
Testament.