Preach the Word

By Steven Lawson 1/1/1989

     Every season of reformation and every hour of spiritual awakening has been ushered in by a recovery of biblical preaching. This cause and effect is timeless and inseparable. J.H. Merle D’Aubigné, a noted Reformation historian, writes, “The only true reformation is that which emanates from the Word of God.” That is to say, as the pulpit goes, so goes the church.

     Such was the case in the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century. Martin Luther, John Calvin, and others were raised up by God to lead His church in this era. At the forefront, it was their recovery of expository preaching that helped launch this religious movement that turned Europe and, eventually, Western civilization upside down. With sola Scriptura as their battle cry, a new generation of biblical preachers restored the pulpit to its former glory and revived Apostolic Christianity.

     The same was true in the golden era of the Puritans in the seventeenth century. A recovery of biblical preaching spread like wild fire through the dry religion of Scotland and England. A resurgence of authentic Christianity came as an army of biblical expositors—John Owen, Jeremiah Burroughs, Samuel Rutherford, and others—marched upon the kingdoms of England and Scotland with an open Bible and uplifted voice. In its wake, the monarchy was shaken and history was altered.

     The eighteenth century witnessed exactly the same. The Bible-saturated preaching of Jonathan Edwards, George Whitefield, and the Tennents thundered through the early Colonies. The Atlantic seaboard was electrified with the proclamation of the gospel, and New England was taken by storm. The Word was preached, souls were saved, and the kingdom expanded.

     The fact is, the restoration of biblical preaching has always been the leading factor in any revival of genuine Christianity. Philip Schaff writes, “Every true progress in church history is conditioned by a new and deeper study of the Scriptures.” That is to say, every great revival in the church has been ushered in by a return to expository preaching.

     D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, preacher at Westminster Chapel, London, stated, “The most urgent need in the Christian Church today is true preaching; and as it is the greatest and the most urgent need in the Church, it is the greatest need of the world also.” If his diagnosis is correct, and this writer believes it is, then a return to true preaching—biblical preaching, expository preaching—is the greatest need in this critical hour. If a reformation is to come to the church, it must begin in the pulpit.

     In his day, the prophet Amos warned of an approaching famine, a deadly drought that would cover the land. But this famine was not an absence of mere food or water, for this scarcity would be far more fatal. It would be a famine for hearing God’s Word (Amos 8:11). Surely, the church today finds itself in similar days of shortage. Tragically, exposition is being replaced with entertainment, doctrine with drama, theology with theatrics, and preaching with performances. What is so desperately needed today is for pastors to return to their highest calling—the divine summons to “preach the word” (2 Tim. 4:1–2).

     What is expository preaching? The Genevan Reformer John Calvin explained, “Preaching is the public exposition of Scripture by the man sent from God, in which God Himself is present in judgment and in grace.” In other words, God is unusually present, by His Spirit, in the preaching of His Word. Such preaching starts in a biblical text, stays in it, and shows its God-intended meaning in a life-changing fashion.

     This was the final charge of Paul to young Timothy: “Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching” (2 Tim. 4:2). Such preaching necessitates declaring the full counsel of God in Scripture. The entire written Word must be expounded. No truth should be left untaught, no sin unexposed, no grace unoffered, no promise undelivered.

     A heaven-sent revival will only come when Scripture is enthroned once again in the pulpit. There must be the clarion declaration of the Bible, the kind of preaching that gives a clear explanation of a biblical text with compelling application, exhortation, and appeal.

     Every preacher must confine himself to the truths of Scripture. When the Bible speaks, God speaks. The man of God has nothing to say apart from the Bible. He must not parade his personal opinions in the pulpit. Nor may he expound worldly philosophies. The preacher is limited to one task—to preach the Word.

     Charles Haddon Spurgeon said, “I would rather speak five words out of this book than 50,000 words of the philosophers. If we want revivals, we must revive our reverence for the Word of God. If we want conversions, we must put more of God’s Word into our sermons.” This remains the crying need of the hour.

     May a new generation of strong men step forward and speak up, and may they do so loud and clear. As the pulpit goes, so goes the church.

What Is the Gospel?

By Burk Parsons 1/1/1989

     The nineteenth-century Princeton theologian Charles Hodge said, “The gospel is so simple that small children can understand it, and it is so profound that studies by the wisest theologians will never exhaust its riches.” The gospel is absolutely fundamental to everything we believe, and it is at the very core of who we are as Christians. However, many professing Christians struggle to answer the simple question: What is the gospel? When I teach, I am astounded by how many of my students are unable to provide a biblically accurate explanation of what the gospel is, and, what’s more, what the gospel is not. If we don’t know what the gospel is, we are of all people the most to be pitied. For, if we can’t explain the gospel, then we can’t proclaim the gospel in evangelism so that sinners might be saved, and we in fact may not be saved ourselves. In our day, there are countless counterfeit gospels, both inside and outside the church. Much of what is on Christian television and on the shelves of Christian bookstores completely obscures the gospel, thereby making it another gospel, which is no gospel at all. Since Satan cannot destroy the gospel, as J.C. Ryle wrote, “he has too often neutralized its usefulness by addition, subtraction, or substitution.” It is vital we understand that just because a preacher talks about Jesus, the cross, and heaven, that does not mean he is preaching the gospel. And just because there is a church building on every corner does not mean the gospel is preached on every corner.

     Fundamentally, the gospel is news. It’s good news—the good news about what our triune God has graciously accomplished for His people: The Father’s sending the Son, Jesus Christ, God incarnate, to live perfectly, fulfill the law, and die sacrificially, atoning for our sins, satisfying God’s wrath against us that we might not face an eternal hell, and raising Him from the dead by the power of the Holy Spirit. It is the victorious announcement that God saves sinners. And even though the call of Jesus to “take up your cross and follow me,” “repent and believe,” “deny yourself,” and “keep my commandments” are necessary commands that directly follow the proclamation of the gospel, they are not in themselves the good news of what Jesus has accomplished. The gospel is not a summons to work harder to reach God— it’s the grand message of how God worked all things together for good to reach us. The gospel is good news, not good advice, just as J. Gresham Machen wrote: “What I need first of all is not exhortation, but a gospel, not directions for saving myself but knowledge of how God has saved me. Have you any good news? That is the question that I ask of you.”

There’s No Coming to Life without Pain: An Interview with Elisabeth Elliot

By Elisabeth Elliot 2/1/1989

     Flannery O’Connor once responded to an interviewer’s question about why her short stories left such a bad taste in the mouth with, “Well, you weren’t supposed to eat them.” Her wry sense of confidence in herself and her craft was undoubtedly due to her utter confidence that God was in total control of her life and writing habit.

     In her words, both written and spoken, Elisabeth Elliot exudes this same quiet confidence. Hers is a Lord whom she has learned is nothing less than trustworthy. Ask her to sum up what God has taught her and she says simply, “Trust me.”

     Elisabeth Elliot is the author of several best-sellers, including Passion and Purity and Shadow of the Almighty, which recount her experiences when she and her husband Jim Elliot served as missionaries to the Quichua Indians of Ecuador. She recently filmed, on behalf of Ligonier Ministries, a new teaching series, “Suffering is Not for Nothing.”

     Tabletalk: In her 1977 graduation address at Wheaton College, Madeleine L’Engle ended with this quote from Jung: “There’s no coming to life without pain.” What do you think of that?

     Elisabeth Elliot: It’s true.

     TT: Perhaps a more challenging question is one based on the Christian mystics. They wrote about the dark night of the soul as if it were a more normal passage in a Christian’s life. Many Christians believe that suffering is a direct result of sin.

     EE: The book of Job clearly refutes the notion that suffering is the direct result of your own sin. It is the direct result of original sin — there’s no question about that. There wouldn’t be suffering, there wouldn’t be death, there wouldn’t be sin, if it hadn’t been for Adam and Eve’s disobedience.

     According to my reading of Christian mystics, the dark night of the soul is really a much more rare and high-powered experience than most of us have. The average person’s feelings of darkness, depression, despair and discouragement are not, I think, what the mystics meant about that dark night of the soul. The Christian mystics really felt dereliction. They felt that they experienced something like what Jesus felt when he said, “Why has God forsaken me?” I wouldn’t dignify any of my experiences by calling them the dark night of the soul.

     TT: Why do some Christians suffer more than others? Is it because they have a stronger will that must be broken?

     EE: I don’t think that we could possibly jump to that conclusion. In the first place it is a mystery how God apportions suffering. Most of us would agree that the most holy people we know seem to be required to go through more and more deep waters.

     From a psychological standpoint I would think that people who are highly sensitive and have more vivid imaginations suffer more than others. I remember lying awake at night imagining the things that would happen to my second husband after we learned of his cancer. These thoughts were in themselves a point of suffering. I think that’s what Jesus was getting at when he said, “Take no thought for tomorrow.” He was not saying it’s wrong to plan. He was saying, “Do not assume the burdens of tomorrow.” But that is a continual temptation for some of us whose imaginations work overtime.

     TT: You have said that, “The deepest things I have learned in my life have come through suffering.” What are some of those deep things?

     EE: The profound and simple truth that God is God. When my husband Jim died, the Spirit of God brought to my mind the words: “I am the Lord!” Things which sound like platitudes become vital, living and powerful when you have to learn them in the bottom of the barrel, in dark tunnels. The lesson: “I am the Lord” ought to be one that we learn without going through deep waters, but apparently there isn’t any other way.

     TT: Why does God choose suffering to mold us?

     EE: To give a complete answer to that is impossible because we are up against a mystery. But He has given us at least 18 scripture verses, and I have them listed in my notebook, that explain some of the whys. For example Romans 8:28 gives us a pattern; verse 29 gives the reason. 1 Peter 4:12 and 13 are favorites of mine.

(Ro 8:28–29) 28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 29 For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.  ESV

(Ro 8:28–29) 28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 29 For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.  ESV

(1 Pe 4:12–13) 12 Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. 13 But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.  ESV

     We live in a fallen world and therefore where there is wrong then Christians must suffer wrong, like everybody else. You can’t get to tomorrow morning without going through tonight. The child cannot be born without going through the straight and narrow gate which is the birth passage and the mother can’t give life to the child without suffering. It is the rule of the universe — this continual cycle of living and dying.

     We can see this rhythm most dramatically in nature. The apple seed produces the tree which then produces leaves. When the leaves fall off there’s death, then in the spring there’s life. But those beautiful blossoms have to fall to the ground — to die — or no fruit will be produced. The fruit has to rot in order for the seed to be released which must fall to the ground to make the tree. Then the cycle begins all over again.

     I have often tried to imagine what kind of a world it would have been without that cycle of suffering and death. Was there a sense in which death was a part of God’s original design, or is it the result of a fall? We can’t even imagine life without death.

     TT: That’s a very intriguing thought. What about those Christians who must deal with a great deal of pain? How can they prevent themselves from seeing God as an ogre?

     EE: Look at the cross. That is the crucial point; that is the crux. If you could see God hanging on a cross as victim and lamb, then you could not possibly believe that he’s an ogre. What image could he have chosen that would be less threatening, more meek, more helpless than a lamb that looked as if it had been sacrificed?

     TT: When you address groups on the topic of suffering, you tell them to give Christ their “place of need.” What is your place of need?

     EE: Most recently it was doing this video, “Suffering Is Not For Nothing” for Ligonier! Most of the days of our lives are quite ordinary days. Not many big things come up — we get into traffic jams or somebody says something snotty — little picky things which to me are reminders that God will not allow us to settle down here. What He wants is to draw and move us always toward heaven. There’s nothing perfect here.

     My brother, Tom, is the champion pessimist in our family, although we’re all pretty good at it. His wife, Lovelace, told me once that when one of the children spills milk, to her it is only spilled milk. To Tom it raises all the cosmic questions in the universe.

     TT: You have said that Christianity is the only religion that deals with suffering.

     EE: I picked that up from C.S. Lewis and others. Buddhism and Hinduism both have an idea of nirvana — a sort of oblivion to reality and desire. You won’t suffer because you will get rid of all your feelings and you will desire nothing. And when you desire nothing, then you can’t suffer.

     Christianity deals head-on with suffering because Christ Himself suffered. This symbol of our faith is a symbol of suffering.

     When someone tells me a story about someone’s horrible suffering and asks what to do, I can only say what I say all the time. God is there. He has a loving purpose. He will turn it into joy if you offer it to Him.

     Of course I have not experienced many kinds of suffering. I haven’t been abused by my husband. I am not blind. But the same God who meets me in my dark valleys and deep waters is the God who meets other people in their dark valleys and deep waters. He has been there. Accept suffering, thank God for it and then offer it up to Him.

     TT: What about those of us who have different temperaments or more vivid imaginations? Perhaps you just have a stronger inner reservoir for hope.

     EE: It can’t be a question of temperaments. Like my brother, Tom, I’m a champion pessimist.

     Tom says, “I’m the kind of guy who dials, ‘Dial-A-Prayer’ and they hang up on me.” I’m like that.

     TT: You don’t come across as a pessimist, however.

     EE: Well, I really believe what I say. And God is mercifully helping me to see things from His viewpoint. I do know that it works, but God has to teach it to me over and over again.

     When my husband, Lars, and I left the television studio after we recorded my lectures, he told me some things I had done wrong. I was just devastated by that. He’s the one person in the world that I want to encourage me. My instant, normal, human reaction is to say, “You get up there and do it!” I didn’t say it, but I did think it! God always puts His finger on that sore place in my life, that place of need. I can’t get up there and pop off to somebody else and say, “Offer your feelings to God,” and then go home in a seething stew of resentment about my husband and not offer that to God. He says to me, “OK, you dish that out to those people—how about doing it yourself right now?” I couldn’t get to sleep until 2 o’clock the following morning. My only reservoir of strength is Christ. I must continually come to Him for help.

     People sometimes ask me, “How did you get rid of your feelings?” I tell them I didn’t get rid of them. I offer them to God, and I have to offer them again, and again, and again.

     One of Satan’s master tricks is to say, “You big fake, you hypocrite. You didn’t mean that. You’re just nothing but a hollow mockery.” And I say, “God knows I did mean it. Get behind me, Satan.” But I’m still a sinner, I’m still subject to feelings.

     I tried to be stern with myself after my first husband, Jim, was killed. I made myself get rid of all his clothes. Then six weeks later I found a pair of his shoes in the closet. There was the shape of his feet just as plain as anything, and I was in a state of total self pity again. So again I had to offer up those emotions to God. I think every grieving person goes through this kind of thing, these little reminders. I open a book and here’s his handwriting, just one little word on the page. I think about his hand once being on that page. I do my best to let people know I’ve been there and that I am there.

     TT: Who are the Christians that you admire?

     EE: My father. He was a great model. My mother, too. Amy Carmichael—the missionary—is certainly one of my primary role models. I have had five or six spiritual mothers. These women set visual examples of the shape of godly womanliness.

     TT: How important is a sense of humor in the midst of suffering?

     EE: It’s very important. If we could ever realize the dimensions of the gap between where we are and where we want to be — God’s standard of perfection and where we are now — we couldn’t help but see ourselves as comic figures. We’re laughable.

     The Christian ought to be the person with the sharpest sense of humor because we have congruity in our world and life view. You cannot discern incongruity if there is no congruity. If it’s all chaos and chance there is really no basis for humor at all. This must have been in the backs of the minds of those who designed the cathedrals in Europe with all these weird looking faces looking down and laughing.

     TT: How do you respond to this quote from theologian, H.A. Williams, in his book, Tensions: “If our beliefs are cut and dried it means that we have anesthetized ourselves against nine-tenths of reality. A faith which is life-giving and effective, a robust faith, has to be prepared to take doubt on board.”

     EE: Doubt has to be embraced by faith. I love what George McDonald says, “The man that feareth, Lord, to doubt, in that fear, doubteth thee.” I think there is a place for an honest “why?” which is very different from the challenge of unbelief. The challenge that was thrown at Jesus—“Come down from the cross”—was the challenge of unbelief. The person who is truly seeking to know God and to understand His ways can legitimately ask why as the psalmist did and as Job did. God never chided them for that. In fact God said that Job had spoken the truth and his friends had not. Job said some awful things, look at Job 16!

     TT: What are some awful things that you said to God?

     EE: I don’t really have the guts to do that. I was raised to believe that you had to be very careful about what you said. But I am aware that God knows my thoughts before I think them, so I might as well say them.

     TT: Is God’s love sufficient?

     EE: It is sufficient. It’s not all I want, it’s not all I think I need, but it is enough. But there’s no sense in imagining that God’s love takes the place of every kind of earthly comfort. If the air conditioning goes off, the love of God is not going to air condition us.

     I lived in a house in Ecuador with no walls, and I didn’t particularly like that. I’m a person of great reserve and privacy, and I like solitude. I had Indians in my house all the time hanging over my shoulder, going through my stuff. “What’s this? What’s that? Where did you get it? What’s it made of? Why don’t you give it to me, you’ve got two of these?” I had two changes of clothes. One on and one that I had just washed. I would just get tired of having company all the time. But I can look back and remember what the Lord asked the disciples, “When I sent you forth, lacked ye anything?” And they said, “Nothing.” God’s love is sufficient. We can’t expect Him to satisfy everything we think we need. It is in heaven where we will be truly satisfied.

     TT: What advice do you have for those of us who have to watch somebody suffer?

     EE: Much of what I have said in these Ligonier seminars I tried to say to my second husband when he got cancer. He was a great theologian and he had written a book on suffering — his last book written before we found out that he had cancer, entitled This Cup. It’s really one of the best things I’ve seen on the subject outside of Lewis’s, The Problem of Pain. In the last months of his life I would occasionally read to him from that book and he would just look at me and say, “Did I write that? I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

     TT: Why did he say that?

     EE: Because he had never suffered to the degree he was experiencing then. He had not suffered much physically, though he had gone through some horrible emotional traumas. When the cancer struck he would be in such pain that he screamed. He went from 225 pounds down to 125 in ten months. It was a devastating experience.

     Throughout the ten months of watching him disintegrate I prayed for physical healing which I knew would have to be a miracle, and if that wasn’t possible I prayed that the Lord would give him peace. I really believe that God can give His peace no matter what the situation. And as far as I could tell God never gave him that peace until the last week of his life.

     I can remember trying to dish out to him all these things which I was in the process of learning myself. The night before he died I stood at the end of his bed and just implored him to let go of his burdens. When I finished, he didn’t say a word at first. He just looked at me. Then all he said was, “Well, that was quite a sermon.”

     I want to give people this gospel, yet some have ears to hear and some haven’t. When Jesus preached some believed, some mocked, some didn’t believe. There are certainly times when silence is the only thing you can do. Often all I can say to a person in terrible pain is: I don’t know what you are going through, but I know the One who knows.

     TT: You often refer to suffering as a gift.

     EE: I know that sounds preposterous. It has taken me years to begin to comprehend this truth, which I believe is scriptural. Jesus spoke of the cup the Father gave Him. Paul said to the Philippians “It is given to you not only to believe but also to suffer.” I began to see my own widowhood as a gift in this sense: there was nothing I could do to change it. Only God could change it. If He didn’t, obviously He meant for me to receive it, accept it. And as I did that, I found peace. I found that I could glorify Him in the context of widowhood, and — much more — it was because of my losing my husband that God gave me the gift of Himself, of the knowledge of who He was, in a way I could not otherwise have experienced.

     We might compare it to Daniel’s time in the lion’s den. Surely he learned some priceless things about his God there. Shadrach and his friends would not have known what they knew about God without the fiery furnace. Isn’t the den a gift, then? Couldn’t we say the furnace experience was really a gift of mercy and love?

The Law of God

By R.C. Sproul 4/1/1989

     "In giving a summary of what constitutes the true knowledge of God, we showed that we cannot form any just conception of the character of God, without feeling overawed by His majesty, and bound to do Him service." --- John Calvin

     Yesterday, a man I met for the first time asked me, “And what is the Lord doing in your life?” (Something about how he asked the question, the tone of his voice, and his manner in it disturbed me.) The manner of asking was a bit too casual, as if the utterance was mechanical. I suppressed my annoyance and answered as if the question were sincere. I said, “He is impressing upon me the beauty and sweetness of His law.” The man obviously was not prepared for my answer. He looked at me as though I was from another planet. He visibly recoiled from my words as if I was weird for uttering them.

     We are living in an era in which the law of God is not given much attention either by secularists or by Christians. The law, we assume, is a relic of the past, part of the history of Judaeo-Christianity to be sure, but of no abiding relevance to the Christian life. We are living out, in practice, the antinomian heresy.

     A recent survey by George Gallup Jr. revealed a startling trend in our culture. According to Gallup the evidence seems to indicate that there are not clear behavioral patterns that distinguish Christians from non- Christians in our society. We all seem to be marching to the same drummer, looking to the shifting standards of contemporary culture for the basis of what is acceptable conduct. What everybody else is doing seems to be our only ethical norm.

     This pattern can only emerge in a society or a church wherein the law of God is eclipsed. The very word law seems to have an unpleasant ring to it in our evangelical circles.

     Let’s try an experiment. I’m going to cite a few passages from Psalm 119 for our reflection. I’m asking that you read them existentially in the sense that you try to crawl into the skin of the writer and experience empathy. Try to feel what he felt when he wrote these lines thousands of years ago:

Oh, how I love Your law! It is my meditation all the day (v. 97).
Your testimonies I have taken as a heritage forever, for they are the rejoicing of my heart. I have inclined my heart to perform Your statutes forever, to the very end (vv. 111–112).
I opened my mouth and panted, for I longed for Your commandments (vs. 131).
Trouble and anguish have overtaken me. Yet Your commandments are my delights (vs. 143).

But now we have been delivered from the law, having died to what we were held by, so that we should serve in the newness of the Spirit and not in the oldness of the letter (Romans 7:6).
What shall we say then? Is the law sin? Certainly not! On the contrary, I would not have known sin except through law (Romans 7:8).
Therefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy and just and good (Romans 7:12).
For I delight in the law of God according to the inward man (Romans 7:22).

Robert Charles Sproul, 2/13/1939 – 12/14/2017 was an American theologian, author, and ordained pastor in the Presbyterian Church in America. Dr. R.C. Sproul was founder and chairman of Ligonier Ministries, an international Christian education and discipleship organization located near Orlando, Fla. He was also copastor of Saint Andrew’s Chapel in Sanford, Fla., chancellor of Reformation Bible College, and executive editor of Tabletalk magazine. Dr. Sproul has contributed dozens of articles to national evangelical publications, has spoken at conferences, churches, and schools around the world, and has written more than one hundred books. He also served as general editor of the Reformation Study Bible.

Read The Psalms In "1" Year

Psalm 34

8 Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good!
Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!
9 Oh, fear the LORD, you his saints,
for those who fear him have no lack!
10 The young lions suffer want and hunger;
but those who seek the LORD lack no good thing.

11 Come, O children, listen to me;
I will teach you the fear of the LORD.
12 What man is there who desires life
and loves many days, that he may see good?
13 Keep your tongue from evil
and your lips from speaking deceit.
14 Turn away from evil and do good;
seek peace and pursue it.

Ruth 1

By Don Carson 8/8/2018

     There is scarcely a more attractive figure in all of Scripture than Ruth.

     She is a Moabitess (Ruth 1:4). She lives in troubled times, and faces her own terrible grief. She and another Moabitess, Orpah, marry two recent immigrants called Mahlon and Kilion. These two men and their parents had arrived in Moabite territory to escape famine back home in Bethlehem. Some years pass, and the men’s father — Elimelech — dies. Then both Mahlon and Kilion die. That leaves the three women: the Moabitesses’ mother-in-law Naomi, and the two Moabitesses themselves, Orpah and Ruth.

     When Naomi hears that the famine back home is over, which was the original reason for their migration to Moab, she decides to go home. Families often worked in extended clan relationships. She would be looked after, and the pain of her loneliness would be mitigated. Wisely, she encourages her two daughters-in-law to stay in their own land, with their own people, language, and culture. Who knows? In time they might even find new mates. Certainly they cannot reasonably expect Naomi to produce them!

     So Orpah accepts the counsel, stays home in Moab, and nothing more is heard of her again. But Ruth clings to Naomi: “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried” (Ruth 1:16-17). She even puts herself under the threat of a curse. “May the LORD deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me” (Ruth 1:17).

     Ruth does not mean this to sound heroic. She is simply speaking out of her heart. Had she come to a genuine and consistent faith in the Lord God during her ten-year marriage? What kind of solid and subtle links had been forged between Ruth and the Israelite members of this extended family, and in particular between Ruth and Naomi?

     Our culture makes all kinds of snide remarks about mothers-in-law. But many a mother-in-law is remarkably unselfish, and establishes relationships with her daughters-in-law that are as godly and as deep as the best of those between mothers and daughters. So, apparently, here. Ruth is prepared to abandon her own people, culture, land, and even religion, provided she can stay with Naomi and help her.

     She could not have known that in making that choice she would soon find herself married again. She could not have known that that marriage would make her an ancestor not only of the imposing Davidic dynasty, but of the supreme King who centuries later would spring from it.

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Don Carson is research professor of New Testament at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield, Illinois, and co-founder (with Tim Keller) of The Gospel Coalition. He has authored numerous books, and recently edited The Enduring Authority of the Christian Scriptures (Eerdmans, 2016).

Ruth 2

By Don Carson 8/09/2018

     The narrator has already told us that when Naomi and Ruth arrive back in Bethlehem it was the time of barley harvest (Ruth 1:22). Now (Ruth 2) the significance of that bit of information is played out.

     It was long-standing tradition, stemming from Mosaic Law, that landowners would not be too scrupulous about picking up every bit of produce from their land. That left something for the poor to forage (cf. Deut. 24:19-22; see meditation for June 19). So Ruth goes out and works behind the proper reapers in a field not too far from Jerusalem. She could not know that this field belonged to a wealthy landowner called Boaz — a distant relative of Naomi’s and Ruth’s future husband.

     The story is touching, with decent people acting decently on all fronts. On the one hand, Ruth proves to be a hard worker, barely stopping for rest (Ruth 2:7). She is painfully aware of her alien status (Ruth 2:10), but treats the locals with respect and courtesy. When she brings her hoard back to Naomi and relates all that has happened, another small aside reminds us that for a single woman to engage in such work at this point in Israel’s history was almost to invite molestation (Ruth 2:22) — which attests her courage and stamina.

     Naomi sees the hand of God. From a merely pragmatic perspective of gaining enough to eat, she is grateful, but when she hears the name of the man who owns the field, she not only recognizes the safety that this will provide for Ruth, but she realizes that Boaz is one of their “kinsman-redeemers” (Ruth 2:20) — that is, one of those who under so-called levirate law could marry Ruth, with the result that their first son would carry on the legitimate rights and property entitlements of her original husband.

     But it is Boaz who is, perhaps, seen in the best light. Without a trace of romance at this stage, he shows himself to be not only concerned for the poor, but a man who is touched by the calamities of others, and who quietly wants to help. He has heard of Naomi’s return and of the persistent faithfulness of this young Moabitess. He instructs his own workers to provide for her needs, to ensure her safety, and even leave behind some extra bits of grain so that Ruth’s labor will be well rewarded.

     Above all, he is a man of faith as well as of integrity, a point we hear in his first conversation with the woman who would one day be his bride: “May the LORD repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the LORD, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge” (Ruth 2:12). Well said — for the Lord is no one’s debtor.

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Don Carson is research professor of New Testament at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield, Illinois, and co-founder (with Tim Keller) of The Gospel Coalition. He has authored numerous books, and recently edited The Enduring Authority of the Christian Scriptures (Eerdmans, 2016).

Ruth 3-4

By Don Carson 8/10/2018

     Scholars disagree somewhat over the social significance of each action taken in Ruth 3-4, but the general line is clear enough. Almost certainly the levirate laws, which allowed or mandated men to marry widowed in-laws under certain circumstances to keep the family name alive, were not followed very consistently. Following Naomi’s instruction, Ruth takes a little initiative: she lies down at Boaz’s feet in a “men only” sleeping area. When he wakes up, she says, “Spread the corner of your garment over me, since you are a kinsman-redeemer” (Ruth 3:9). This was an invitation, but not a cheap one. It signaled her willingness to become his wife, if Boaz will discharge his duties as a kinsman-redeemer. Boaz takes this as a compliment: apparently there is enough difference between their ages (Ruth 3:10, plus his habit of referring to Ruth as “my daughter”) that he is touched by her willingness to marry him instead of one of the young men.

     The story plays out with romantic integrity. Hollywood would hate it: there is no blistering sex, certainly not of the premarital variety. But there is a seductive charm to the account, allied with a wholesome respect for tradition and procedure, and a knowing grasp of human nature. Hence, Naomi confidently predicts that Boaz “will not rest until the matter is settled today” (Ruth 3:18).

     She is right, of course. The town gate is the place for public agreements, and there Boaz marshals ten elders as witnesses and gently demands that the one person who is a closer relative to Naomi (and therefore with the right of “first refusal”) discharge the obligations of kinsman-redeemer or legally abandon the claim (Ruth 4:1-4).

     Apparently at this point the marriage rights are tied to ownership of the land of the deceased husband. This particular kinsman-redeemer would love to obtain the land, but does not want to marry Ruth. Her firstborn son in such a union would maintain the property and family heritage of the deceased husband; later sons would inherit from the natural father. But the situation is messy. Suppose Ruth bore only one son?

     So Boaz marries Ruth, and in due course she gives birth to a son, whom they call Obed. Naomi is provided not only with a grandson, but with a family eager and able to look after her.

     At one level, this is a simple story of God’s faithfulness in the little things of life, at a time of social malaise, religious declension, political confusion, and frequent anarchy. God still has his people — working hard, acting honorably, marrying, bearing children, looking after the elderly. They could not know that Obed’s was the line that would sire King David — and, according to the flesh, King Jesus.

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Don Carson is research professor of New Testament at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield, Illinois, and co-founder (with Tim Keller) of The Gospel Coalition. He has authored numerous books, and recently edited The Enduring Authority of the Christian Scriptures (Eerdmans, 2016).

By Gleason Archer Jr.

Leviticus and Numbers

     1. As a unique people of God, redeemed Israel is (a) to keep holy, that is, to set themselves apart from the unconverted world unto the service and worship of the one true God; (b) to maintain access to God on the basis of the substitutionary atonement, by means of the shedding of the blood of the sacrifice, as an innocent life is substituted for the forfeited life of the guilty.

     2. Since this access to God is made possible by grace alone, the believer must come before God only in the specific way which God has appointed. Hence  all regulations as to ritual and sacrifice must originate with God rather than with man.  (Anything invented by man might be thought to establish some kind of self-justifying personal merit.)

     3. As a holy people spiritually wedded to Yahweh, Israel must rigorously abstain from all sexual unchastity, all violation of the marriage bond, and from contact with corruption and decay (in connection with corpses or defiling disease). These provisions are to be understood as giving expression to a fundamental attitude of a holy love toward God and man. The second great commandment as defined by the Lord Jesus ( Matt. 22:39 ) was derived from  Lev. 19:18: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” The basic principle underlying monogamy is contained in  Lev. 18:18 for the term sister in that verse may also imply “another woman.”

     4. Nothing corrupt or liable to speedy decay may be presented as an offering to God. This excludes leaven, milk (which quickly sours), honey (which ferments), swine (associated by the heathen with the worship of the gods of the netherworld), and clothing made of a mixture of differing materials (such as wool and flax), which typified a commingling of the holy and the profane.

A Survey of Old Testament Introduction

The Coming Prince

By Sir Robert Anderson 1841-1918

Chapter 5 The Angel's Message

[15] For a description of the ruins of the great palace at Susa, see Mr. Wm. Kennett Loftus's Travels and Researches in Chaldea and Susiana, chap. 28.

[16] Herodotus, 3, 34.

[17] Pusey, Daniel. p. 171. Dr. Pusey adds, "The little colony which Ezra took with him of 1, 683 males (with women and children some 8, 400 souls) was itself a considerable addition to those who had before returned, and involved a rebuilding of Jerusalem. This rebuilding of the city and reorganization of the polity, begun by Ezra, and carried on and perfected by Nehemiah, corresponds with the words of Daniel, 'From the going forth of a commandment to restore and build Jerusalem'" (p. 172.) This argument is the feeblest imaginable, and indeed this reference to the decree of the seventh year of Artaxerxes is a great blot on Dr. Pusey's book. If an immigration of 8, 400 souls involved a rebuilding of the city, and therefore marked the beginning of the seventy weeks, what shall be said of the immigration of 49, 697 souls seventy-eight years before? (Ezra 2:64, 65.) Did this not involve a rebuilding? But, Dr. Pusey goes on to say, "The term also corresponds," i. e., the 483 years, to the time of Christ. Here is obviously the real ground for his fixing the date B. C. 457, or more properly B. C. 458, as given by Prideaux, whom unfortunately Dr. Pusey has followed at this point. With more naivete the author of the Connection pleads that the years will not tally if any other date be assigned, and therefore the decree of the seventh of Artaxerxes must be right! (Prid., Con., 1., 5, B. C. 458.) Such a system of interpretation has done much to discredit the study of prophecy altogether.

[18] i. e., Euphrates. Ezra 4:16.

[19] "This last is the only decree which we find recorded in Scripture which relates to the restoring and building of the city. It must be borne in mind that the very existence of a place as a city depended upon such a decree; for before that any who returned from the land of captivity went only in the condition of sojourners; it was the decree that gave them a recognized and distinct political existence." — TREGELLES, Daniel, p. 98.

"On a sudden, however, in the twentieth year of Artaxerxes, Nehemiah, a man of Jewish descent, cup-bearer to the king, received a commission to rebuild the city with all possible expedition. The cause of this change in the Persian politics is to be sought, not so much in the personal influence of the Jewish cup-bearer, as in the foreign history of the times. The power of Persia had received a fatal blow in the victory obtained at Cnidos by Conon, the Athenian admiral. The great king was obliged to submit to a humiliating peace, among the articles of which were the abandonment of the maritime towns, and a stipulation that the Persian army should not approach within three days' journey of the sea. Jerusalem, being about this distance from the coast, and standing so near the line of communication with Egypt, became a post of the utmost importance." — MILMAN, Hist. Jews (3rd Ed.), 1., 435.

[20] Artaxerxes I. reigned forty years, from 465 to 425. He is mentioned by Herodotus once (6. 98), by Thucydides frequently. Both writers were his contemporaries. There is every reason to believe that he was the king who sent Ezra and Nehemiah to Jerusalem, and sanctioned the restoration of the fortifications." — RAWLINSON, Herodotus, vol. 4., p. 217.

[21] The year in which he is said to have recited his writings at the Olympic games, was the very year of Nehemiah's mission.

[22} The era of the Olympiads began B. C. 776; the era of Rome (A. U. C.) B. C. 753; and the era of Nabonassar, B. C. 747.

[23] The seven months of Artabanus were by some added to the last year of Xerxes, and by others were included in the reign of Artaxerxes." — CLINTON, Fasti Hellenici, vol. 2., p. 42.

[24] It has been shown already that the accession of Xerxes is determined to the beginning of 485 B. C. His twentieth year was completed in the beginning of 465 B. C., and his death would happen in the beginning of the Archonship of Lysitheus. The seven months of Artabanus, completing the twenty-one years, would bring down the accession of Artaxerxes (after the removal of Artabanus) to the beginning of 464, in the year of Nabonassar 284, where it is placed by the canon. Note b: "We may place the death of Xerxes in the first month of that Archon (i. e., of Lysitheus), July B. C. 465, and the succession of Artaxerxes in the eighth month, February B. C. 464." — CLINTON, Fasti Hellenici, vol. 2., p. 380.

[25] See Appendix 2., Note A, on the chronology of the reign of Artaxerxes Longimanus.

The Continual Burnt Offering

By H.A. Ironside - 1941

March 26

Job 42:5  I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear,
but now my eye sees you;
6  therefore I despise myself,
and repent in dust and ashes.”

Job 42:2  “I know that you can do all things,
and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
3  ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’
Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand,
things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.
4  ‘Hear, and I will speak;
I will question you, and you make it known to me.’
5  I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear,
but now my eye sees you;
6  therefore I despise myself,
and repent in dust and ashes.”

Less, less of self each day
And more, my God, of Thee;
Oh, keep me in Thy way,
However rough it be.

Less of the flesh each day,
Less of the world and sin;
More of Thy love, I pray,
More of Thyself within.

Riper and riper now,
Each hour let me become;
Less fond of things below,
More fit for such a home.

More moulded to Thy will,
Lord, let Thy servant be;
Higher and higher still—
Nearer and nearer Thee.

By James Orr 1907

II. REALITY OF SUPERNATURAL PREDICTION

Many are the straits to which rationalism is reduced, as Kuenen’s large volume testifies, in its attempt to eliminate the predictive element from prophecy. So deeply inwoven, however, is prediction into the texture of Scripture, that try as the critics may, they cannot altogether get rid of this unwelcome proof of the presence of the supernatural. We vividly recall the impression made upon our mind by the first reading of the book so often referred to in these pages — Wellhausen’s History of Israel. The book is an attempt to give a thoroughly rationalising account of Israel’s history, but the effect it produced was to make us feel as never before the impossibility of every such natural explanation. The supernatural was constantly thrusting in its head, notwithstanding all the critic’s attempts to keep it out. Was it, e.g., the Exodus from Egypt? The people were led by Moses round by the Red Sea, but by a singular coincidence — a marvellous piece of good fortune — the sea dried just in time to let them through. “His design,” we are told, “was aided in a wholly unlooked - for way, by a marvellous occurrence quite beyond his control, and which no sagacity could possibly have foreseen.” Was it the deliverance of Jerusalem from Sennacherib? Isaiah alone of all the people retained his confidence in God’s help, and gave Hezekiah in the name of Jehovah the most explicit assurance that the city would not be taken — that the enemy would not shoot an arrow into it, nor bring up a shield against it. He predicted this in words of scornful exultation, and staked his prophetic reputation on the result. “And thus,” says Wellhausen, “it proved in the issue. By a still unexplained catastrophe, the main army of Sennacherib was annihilated on the frontier between Egypt and Palestine, and Jerusalem was freed from danger. Is it the prediction of the downfall and captivity of Israel by Amos? This prophet, Wellhausen admits, “prophesied as close at hand the downfall of the kingdom, which just at that moment was rejoicing most in the consciousness of power, and the deportation of the people to a far - off northern land.” We have but to contrast this uniform tone of certainty of the Hebrew prophets with the language, e.g., of a John Bright during the progress of the American civil war, to see how great is the difference between prophecy and political perception, even when the latter is quickened by the most intense consciousness of the righteousness of a cause. “What the revolt is to accomplish,” said Mr. Bright, “is still hidden from our sight; and I will abstain now, as I have always done, from predicting what is to come. I know what I hope for — what I shall rejoice in — but I know nothing of future events which will enable me to express a confident opinion.”

These instances would be remarkable enough if they stood alone; the disconcerting thing for the newer theory of prophecy is that they do not stand alone. The Bible is full of cases of the same kind. This can be maintained notwithstanding all theories of the critics as to the dates of the books. It was when kings and nobles were lying on beds of ivory, and indulging in every species of dissipation and amusement, that Amos, as just mentioned, wrote: “Therefore will I cause you to go into captivity beyond Damascus, saith Jehovah, whose name is the God of hosts.” It was a century and more before the captivity of Judah that Micah foretold: “Therefore shall Zion for your sake be ploughed as a field, and Jerusalem shall become heaps.… Be in pain, and labour to bring forth, O daughter of Zion, like a woman in travail; for now shalt thou go forth out of the city, and shalt dwell in the field, and shalt come even unto Babylon” — even this is not all, but — “there shalt thou be delivered; there shall Jehovah redeem thee from the hand of thine enemies.” Jeremiah’s prophecies belong to the last years of the kingdom of Judah, but it is impossible to erase from them the prediction of the seventy years of captivity — fulfilled to a year from the date of the first deportation (606–536 B.C.). “This whole land shall be a desolation, and an astonishment, and these nations shall serve the king of Babylon seventy years. And it shall come to pass, when seventy years are accomplished, that I will punish the king of Babylon, and that nation, saith Jehovah, for their iniquity, and the land of the Chaldeans; and I will make it desolate for ever.” The second portion of  Isaiah is assigned to the exile; but it is not in the second portion, but in the first, a hundred and twenty years before the exile (contemporary with Micah), that we find this remarkable prediction of the captivity: “Then said I, Lord, how long? And He answered, Until cities be waste without inhabitant, and houses without man, and the land become utterly waste, and Jehovah have removed men far away.… And if there be yet a tenth in it, it shall again be eaten up: as a terebinth, and as an oak, whose stock remaineth, when they are felled: so the holy seed is the stock thereof.” And again, when Hezekiah had showed his treasures to the messengers of the king of Bbylon: “Behold the days come, that all that is in thine house, and that which thy fathers have laid up in store until this day, shall be carried into Babylon: nothing shall be left, saith Jehovah.” Even accepting the view that the second part of  Isaiah (chaps.  40–66 ) is post-exilian — though we think this extremely doubtful at least for portions of it — we do not thereby get rid of prediction. Cyrus may already, as the phrase is, have been “above the horizon” when the prophet wrote, pursuing his conquests in the north; but the most brilliant part of his career was yet to come. Mighty Babylon had not yet fallen, nor had Israel been restored. But it is these things which form the burden of the prophecy. We cannot, moreover, but be struck by the fact that it is precisely in this second part of  Isaiah that the fulfilment of prophecy is insisted on as the clearest proof that Jehovah is the true and only God.  Daniel is a book keenly assailed by the critics, and undoubtedly presents difficulties on the view that it was written in its present form in Daniel’s own age. Yet, on any theory of date, one cannot but feel that it is only by forced and unnatural shifts — such as would not be tolerated for a moment in the “traditional” apologist — that an interpretation of the “four empires” can be got which does not include the Roman, or that makes the “seventy weeks,” or four hundred and ninety years, of  Daniel, end in the age of Antiochus Epiphanes (171–164 B.C.). On the other hand, it is the case that, reckoning from the decree of Artaxerxes and the mission of  Ezra (458 B.C.), the sixty-nine weeks that were to elapse till “the anointed one (Messiah) the prince” ( Dan. 9:26 ), run out in 29 A.D., the year of Christ’s entrance on His public ministry. If to these be added the prophecies about the nations, which fill so large a space in the books — the prophecy of Nahum against Nineveh, e.g., or the prophecies against Egypt, Babylon, Tyre, and other surrounding kingdoms above all, the predictions respecting the captivities and future of the Jewish nation, their scattering through all lands, yet preservation as a distinct people, with promises of latter - day restoration and blessing — we have a mass of prediction, not soothsaying, but all of it standing in strictest subordination to the ends of the kingdom of God, which, taken together, is absolutely unique, and wholly inexplicable except under supernatural conditions. The element of prediction is not less conspicuously present in the New Testament. Many of the parables, announcements, and discourses of Jesus are predictive — we instance only the great discourse on the destruction of Jerusalem and the last things; prediction is interwoven with the narrative of the  Acts and with the Epistles; the Apocalypse is a book of prediction in symbolic form.  Symbolic?? Better to take it literally. If everything of the nature of predictive prophecy is expunged from the Bible, it will astonish us to find how much has gone with it.

Allusion was made in an earlier chapter to what is distinctively known as Messianic prophecy, and, in connection therewith, to the firm assurance which the prophets entertained that their religion — the religion of Jehovah — would become the religion of the whole earth. This faith they held fast when everything was against them — when their own nation, with which the promises were bound up, was sinking in ruin, or was in exile. Yet this unprecedented thing has been fulfilled, so far, at least, that Israel’s religion, in its New Testament form, has now become the religion of all the great civilised and progressive nations of the world, and is spreading itself ever more widely in heathen lands. On Messianic prophecy in the stricter sense it if worth while quoting some striking sentences from Professor R. Flint. After remarking on the “marvellous unity, self-consistency, and comprehensiveness” of the Old Testament, and pointing out that “it is at the same time a system which is not self-contained, but one of which all the parts contribute, each in its place, to raise, sustain, and guide faith in the coming of a mysterious and mighty Saviour — a perfect Prophet, perfect Priest, and perfect King, such as Christ alone of all men can be supposed to have been,” Professor Flint goes on to say: “This broad general fact — this vast and strange correlation of correspondence — cannot be in the least affected by questions of the ‘higher criticism’ as to the authorship, time of origination, and mode of composition of the various books of the Old Testament.… Answer all these questions in the way which the boldest and most rationalistic criticism of Germany or Holland ventures to suggest; accept in every properly critical question the conclusions of the most advanced critical schools, and what will follow? Merely this, that those who do so will have, in various respects, to alter their views as to the manner and method in which the ideal of the Messiah’s Person, work, and kingdom was, point by point, line by line, evolved and elaborated. There will not, however, be a single Messianic word or sentence, not a single line or feature the fewer in the Old Testament.”

The Problem of the Old Testament

The Institutes of the Christian Religion

Translated by Henry Beveridge

     CHAPTER 11.

OF JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. BOTH THE NAME AND THE REALITY DEFINED.

In this chapter and the seven which follow, the doctrine of Justification by Faith is expounded, and opposite errors refuted. The following may be regarded as the arrangement of these chapters:--Chapter 11 states the doctrine, and the four subsequent chapters, by destroying the righteousness of works, confirm the righteousness of faith, each in the order which appears in the respective titles of these chapters. In Chapter 12 the doctrine of Justification is confirmed by a description of perfect righteousness; in Chapter 13 by calling attention to two precautions; in Chapter 14 by a consideration of the commencement and progress of regeneration in the regenerate; and in Chapter 15 by two very pernicious effects which constantly accompany the righteousness of works. The three other chapters are devoted to refutation; Chapter 16 disposes of the objections of opponents; Chapter 17 replies to the arguments drawn from the promises of the Law or the Gospel; Chapter 18 refutes what is said in support of the righteousness of faith from the promise of reward.

There are three principal divisions in the Eleventh Chapter. I. The terms used in this discussion are explained, sec. 1-4. II. Osiander's dream as to essential righteousness impugned, sec. 5-13. III. The righteousness of faith established in opposition to the righteousness of works.

Sections.

1. Connection between the doctrine of Justification and that of Regeneration. The knowledge of this doctrine very necessary for two reasons.

2. For the purpose of facilitating the exposition of it, the terms are explained. 1. What it is to be justified in the sight of God. 2. To be justified by works. 3. To be justified by faith. Definition.

3. Various meanings of the term Justification. 1. To give praise to God and truth. 2. To make a vain display of righteousness. 3. To impute righteousness by faith, by and on account of Christ. Confirmation from an expression of Paul, and another of our Lord.

4. Another confirmation from a comparison with other expressions, in which justification means free righteousness before God through faith in Jesus Christ. 1. Acceptance. 2. Imputation of righteousness. 3. Remission of sins. 4. Blessedness. 5. Reconciliation with God. 6. Righteousness by the obedience of Christ.

5. The second part of the chapter. Osiander's dream as to essential righteousness refuted. 1. Osiander's argument: Answer. 2. Osiander's second argument: Answer. Third argument: Answer.

6. necessity of this refutation. Fourth argument: Answer. Confirmation: Another answer. Fifth and sixth arguments and answers.

7. Seventh and eighth arguments.

8. Ninth argument: Answer.

9. Tenth argument: Answer.

10. In what sense Christ is said to be our righteousness. Eleventh and twelfth arguments and answers.

11. Thirteenth and fourteenth arguments: Answers. An exception by Osiander. Imputed and begun righteousness to be distinguished. Osiander confounds them. Fifteenth argument: Answer.

12. Sixteenth argument, a dream of Osiander: Answer. Other four arguments and answers. Conclusion of the refutation of Osiander's errors.

13. Last part of the chapter. Refutation of the Sophists pretending a righteousness compounded partly of faith and partly of works.

14. Sophistical evasion by giving the same name to different things: Two answers.

15. Second evasion: Two answers. First answer. Pernicious consequences resulting from this evasion.

16. Second answer, showing wherein, according to Scripture, Justification consists.

17. In explanation of this doctrine of Justification, two passages of Scripture produced.

18. Another passage of Scripture.

19. Third evasion. Papistical objection to the doctrine of Justification by Faith alone: Three answers. Fourth evasion: Three answers.

20. Fifth evasion, founded on the application of the term Righteousness to good works, and also on their reward: Answer, confirmed by the invincible argument of Paul. Sixth evasion: Answer.

21. Osiander and the Sophists being thus refuted, the accuracy of the definition of Justification by Faith established.

22. Definition confirmed. 1. By passages of Scripture. 2. By the writings of the ancient Fathers.

23. Man justified by faith, not because by it he obtains the Spirit, and is thus made righteous, but because by faith he lays hold of the righteousness of Christ. An objection removed. An example of the doctrine of Justification by Faith from the works of Ambrose.

1. I trust I have now sufficiently shown [402] how man's only resource for escaping from the curse of the law, and recovering salvation, lies in faith; and also what the nature of faith is, what the benefits which it confers, and the fruits which it produces. The whole may be thus summed up: Christ given to us by the kindness of God is apprehended and possessed by faith, by means of which we obtain in particular a twofold benefit; first, being reconciled by the righteousness of Christ, God becomes, instead of a judge, an indulgent Father; and, secondly, being sanctified by his Spirit, we aspire to integrity and purity of life. This second benefit--viz. regeneration, appears to have been already sufficiently discussed. On the other hand, the subject of justification was discussed more cursorily, because it seemed of more consequence first to explain that the faith by which alone, through the mercy of God, we obtain free justification, is not destitute of good works; and also to show the true nature of these good works on which this question partly turns. The doctrine of Justification is now to be fully discussed, and discussed under the conviction, that as it is the principal ground on which religion must be supported, so it requires greater care and attention. For unless you understand first of all what your position is before God, and what the judgment which he passes upon you, you have no foundation on which your salvation can be laid, or on which piety towards God can be reared. The necessity of thoroughly understanding this subject will become more apparent as we proceed with it.

2. Lest we should stumble at the very threshold (this we should do were we to begin the discussion without knowing what the subject is), let us first explain the meaning of the expressions, To be justified in the sight of God, to be Justified by faith or by works. A man is said to be justified in the sight of God when in the judgment of God he is deemed righteous, and is accepted on account of his righteousness; for as iniquity is abominable to God, so neither can the sinner find grace in his sight, so far as he is and so long as he is regarded as a sinner. Hence, wherever sin is, there also are the wrath and vengeance of God. He, on the other hand, is justified who is regarded not as a sinner, but as righteous, and as such stands acquitted at the judgment-seat of God, where all sinners are condemned. As an innocent man, when charged before an impartial judge, who decides according to his innocence, is said to be justified by the judge, as a man is said to be justified by God when, removed from the catalogue of sinners, he has God as the witness and assertor of his righteousness. In the same manner, a man will be said to be justified by works, if in his life there can be found a purity and holiness which merits an attestation of righteousness at the throne of God, or if by the perfection of his works he can answer and satisfy the divine justice. On the contrary, a man will be justified by faith when, excluded from the righteousness of works, he by faith lays hold of the righteousness of Christ, and clothed in it appears in the sight of God not as a sinner, but as righteous. Thus we simply interpret justification, as the acceptance with which God receives us into his favor as if we were righteous; and we say that this justification consists in the forgiveness of sins and the imputation of the righteousness of Christ (see sec. 21 and 23).

3. In confirmation of this there are many clear passages of Scripture. First, it cannot be denied that this is the proper and most usual signification of the term. But as it were too tedious to collect all the passages, and compare them with each other, let it suffice to have called the reader's attention to the fact: he will easily convince himself of its truth. I will only mention a few passages in which the justification of which we speak is expressly handled. First, when Luke relates that all the people that heard Christ "justified God," (Luke 7:29), and when Christ declares, that "Wisdom is justified of all her children," (Luke 7:35), Luke means not that they conferred righteousness which always dwells in perfection with God, although the whole world should attempt to wrest it from him, nor does Christ mean that the doctrine of salvation is made just: this it is in its own nature; but both modes of expression are equivalent to attributing due praise to God and his doctrine. On the other hand, when Christ upbraids the Pharisees for justifying themselves (Luke 16:15), he means not that they acquired righteousness by acting properly, but that they ambitiously courted a reputation for righteousness of which they were destitute. Those acquainted with Hebrew understand the meaning better: for in that language the name of wicked is given not only to those who are conscious of wickedness, but to those who receive sentence of condemnation. Thus, when Bathsheba says, "I and my son Solomon shall be counted offenders," she does not acknowledge a crime, but complains that she and her son will be exposed to the disgrace of being numbered among reprobates and criminals (1 Kings 1:21). It is, indeed, plain from the context, that the term even in Latin [403] must be thus understood--viz. relatively--and does not denote any quality. In regard to the use of the term with reference to the present subject, when Paul speaks of the Scripture, "foreseeing that God would justify the heathen through faith," (Gal. 3:8), what other meaning can you give it than that God imputes righteousness by faith? Again, when he says, "that he (God) might be just, and the justifier of him who believeth in Jesus," (Rom. 3:26), what can the meaning be, if not that God, in consideration of their faith, frees them from the condemnation which their wickedness deserves? This appears still more plainly at the conclusion, when he exclaims, "Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth. Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us" (Rom. 8:33, 34). For it is just as if he had said, Who shall accuse those whom God has acquitted? Who shall condemn those for whom Christ pleads? To justify, therefore, is nothing else than to acquit from the charge of guilt, as if innocence were proved. Hence, when God justifies us through the intercession of Christ, he does not acquit us on a proof of our own innocence, but by an imputation of righteousness, so that though not righteous in ourselves, we are deemed righteous in Christ. Thus it is said, in Paul's discourse in the Acts, "Through this man is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins; and by him all that believe are justified from all things from which ye could not be justified by the law of Moses," (Acts 13:38, 39). You see that after remission of sins justification is set down by way of explanation; you see plainly that it is used for acquittal; you see how it cannot be obtained by the works of the law; you see that it is entirely through the interposition of Christ; you see that it is obtained by faith; you see, in fine, that satisfaction intervenes, since it is said that we are justified from our sins by Christ. Thus when the publican is said to have gone down to his house "justified," (Luke 18:14), it cannot be held that he obtained this justification by any merit of works. All that is said is, that after obtaining the pardon of sins he was regarded in the sight of God as righteous. He was justified, therefore, not by any approval of works, but by gratuitous acquittal on the part of God. Hence Ambrose elegantly terms confession of sins "legal justification," (Ambrose on Psalm 118 Serm. 10).

4. Without saying more about the term, we shall have no doubt as to the thing meant if we attend to the description which is given of it. For Paul certainly designates justification by the term acceptance, when he says to the Ephesians, "Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he has made us accepted in the Beloved," (Eph. 1:5, 6). His meaning is the very same as where he elsewhere says, "being justified freely by his grace," (Rom. 3:24). In the fourth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, he first terms it the imputation of righteousness, and hesitates not to place it in forgiveness of sins: "Even as David also describeth the blessedness of the man unto whom God imputeth righteousness without works, saying, Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven," &c. (Rom. 4:6-8). There, indeed, he is not speaking of a part of justification, but of the whole. He declares, moreover, that a definition of it was given by David, when he pronounced him blessed who has obtained the free pardon of his sins. Whence it appears that this righteousness of which he speaks is simply opposed to judicial guilt. [404] But the most satisfactory passage on this subject is that in which he declares the sum of the Gospel message to be reconciliation to God, who is pleased, through Christ, to receive us into favor by not imputing our sins (2 Cor. 5:18-21). Let my readers carefully weigh the whole context. For Paul shortly after adding, by way of explanation, in order to designate the mode of reconciliation, that Christ who knew no sin was made sin for us, undoubtedly understands by reconciliation nothing else than justification. Nor, indeed, could it be said, as he elsewhere does, that we are made righteous "by the obedience" of Christ (Rom. 5:19), were it not that we are deemed righteous in the sight of God in him and not in ourselves.

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