Articles on Theology and Leadership

Author: Chris (Page 1 of 4)

Holy Communion: A Crescendo Case for the Lutheran View

The inversion of the paradigm of my assumption regarding the sacraments was an epiphany that allowed me to complete my transition to Lutheranism. My former understanding assumed that baptism and the Lord’s supper were acts we performed to demonstrate our sincerity and devotion to Christ. Now, I understand that the sacraments are God’s gifts to His children. Through Holy Communion, God forgives sins and strengthens faith through His very body and blood. Lutherans do not deny that the supper calls for faith and remembrance, but we do assert that faith receives what God’s word promises. I’d like to offer a crescendo case for the Lutheran view and some clarifications.

The Testimony of Church History

The dominant patristic witness is that the bread and wine are the true body and blood of Christ. There isn’t a sustained denial that Christ is objectively present until much later as Zwingli raises metaphysical objections to Christ’s locality. A brief survey of the belief of the early fathers and a glimpse into the heart of disagreement at the Marburg Colloquy give us the testimony of the church and a late breaking point as the church began to diverge from its historic position.

In the early 2nd century, Ignatius of Antioch condemns those who “do not confess the Eucharist to be the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ.”1 Justin Martyr likewise limits partaking of the Eucharist to those “who believe that the things which we teach are true,” which in part includes that the bread and wine “is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh.”2 The early patristic records indicate near unanimity regarding the real presence of Christ in the bread and the wine, but I’ve selected these to also highlight the importance that the early church placed on holding to this belief to set the stage for the disagreement at the Marburg Colloquy between Luther and Zwingli.

The Marburg Colloquy saw widespread agreement on most issues with the exception of the Eucharist. This represents a divergence from the church’s mostly uniform stance on the real presence of Christ throughout the early patristic and medieval periods.

Fifteenth, regarding the Last Supper of our dear Lord Jesus Christ, we believe and hold that one should practice the use of both species as Christ himself did, and that the sacrament at the altar is a sacrament of the true body and blood of Jesus Christ and the spiritual enjoyment of this very body and blood is proper and necessary for every Christian. Furthermore, that the practice of the sacrament is given and ordered by God the Almighty like the Word, so that our weak conscience might be moved to faith through the Holy Spirit. And although we have not been able to agree at this time, whether the true body and blood of Christ are corporally present in the bread and wine [of communion], each party should display towards the other Christian love, as far as each respective conscience allows, and both should persistently ask God the Almighty for guidance so that through his Spirit he might bring us to a proper understanding. Amen.3

In fairness, there were antecedents to Zwingli’s distilled philosophical approach and Calvin’s spiritual via media approach regarding how the real presence of Christ was explained. Augustine did speak of eating the body of Christ and drinking the blood of Christ in a spiritual sense.

Understand spiritually what I have said to you. You are not to eat this body which you see, nor to drink that blood which they who crucify me are going to shed. I have commended to you a certain sacrament; spiritually understood, it will give you life.4

However, it’s important to take his words in context and understand that he was referencing John 6. In his sermon on the liturgical seasons, he clearly affirmed sacramental realism: “That bread which you see on the altar, having been sanctified by the word of God, is the body of Christ. The chalice, or rather what is in the chalice, having been sanctified by the word of God, is the blood of Christ.”5 So, claiming Augustine was clearly in the spiritual symbolism camp is not a fair assessment of his views. It is more accurate to say that later theologians and writers latched onto pieces of Augustine and took them further as the views of the Lord’s supper began to fracture. The ironic effect is that Reformed, Lutheran, Baptist, and Catholic theologians cite Augustine for their Eucharistic distinctiveness. More importantly, we must feast upon God’s word and let it nourish our minds to rightly consider this sacrament of the altar.

The Testimony of Scripture

When Christ instituted the Lord’s Supper His words were clear. It is worth repeating but not rehashing the core of the argument. Many point to Jesus’ words as a metaphor like His “I am statements” while those holding to a real presence insist that His words be taken literally. Instead, I’d like to let Jesus’ words of institution be stated and then considered in light of Paul’s words of admonition.

Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.

Matthew 26:26-28, ESV

Paul’s admonition of the Corinthians regarding the Lord’s Supper points to the efficacy and real presence of Christ. Why would he issue such a stark warning if it were only a memorial meal? Instead he says,

 Therefore whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy way, shall be guilty of the body and the blood of the Lord. But a person must examine himself, and in so doing he is to eat of the bread and drink of the cup.  For the one who eats and drinks, eats and drinks judgment to himself if he does not properly recognize the body.

1 Corinthians 11:27-29, NASB

First, notice that Paul says that eating the bread or drinking the cup in an unworthy way means one is “guilty of the body and the blood of the Lord.” Second, notice that Paul states that one eats and drinks judgment to himself if he does not properly recognize the body. What does he mean by body? The NIV opts to translate this as “the body of Christ,” following the immediate context of Christ’s literal body in verse 27. Other interpretations point toward Paul referencing the corporate body with their disregard for the poor, orderliness, and unity in the supper in the broader context. Going back to chapter ten of 1 Corinthians, Paul raises the question as to whether or not the cup blessed and the bread broken are κοινωνία (communion or participation) in the blood and body of Christ (1 Corinthians 10:16). The language here strongly suggests a true presence understanding in the supper as Paul describes a true participation, as κοινωνία denotes real sharing, not a mere symbolic recollection. When read together, the participatory language of 1 Corinthians 10 undergirds and underlines the seriousness and reality of what we believe and what we receive.

Paul’s admonitions bring greater clarity to the plain, literal meaning of Jesus’ words of institution. His warning would not carry the weight that it most certainly does if Jesus’ “body” and “blood” in the sacrament were merely memorials for our consideration. Paul’s urgency and explicit connecting language to the physicality of Christ reminds us that properly recognizing the body is not just remembering. Paul doesn’t treat the supper as a way to boost our devotion but instead as a participation in what Christ objectively gives.

Clarifications

Terms

Lutherans have been associated with the term consubstantiation; however, they have not and do not typically use the term. Rejecting transubstantiation, the Catholic view, Lutherans simply assert that the real presence of Christ is in, with, and under the elements. They have used the term “sacramental union” to describe this nuanced distinction. It simply means that the bread is bread and the wine is wine while simultaneously confessing that the body and blood of Christ are present in, with and under the elements. The “how” is left to trusting in God’s promises and power.

Focus

When I was a Baptist as well as when I attended a Reformed congregation, the emphasis in communion was on remembrance and personal holiness. Let me be clear. Remembering and coming with reverence and holiness is absolutely a part of partaking in communion. However, this is simply a baseline of what it means to follow our Lord’s institution of His supper and the whole of the biblical teaching. Additionally, Lutherans are not concerned with the “how” as scripture does not give us those answers. Any “how” is speculative, and we rest in the assurance of God’s promises as seen in His word. Scripture nowhere explicitly teaches an ascension in spirit to the presence of Christ through the participation in the Lord’s supper, as Calvin’s moderating, middle view claims. Lutherans are comfortable asserting what scripture asserts even when it transcends our human philosophical categories.

Closed Communion

The Apology of the Augsburg Confession highlights careful consideration of belief in the substantial presence of the body and blood of Christ in the Lord’s Supper.

The Tenth Article has been approved, in which we confess that we believe, that in the Lord’s Supper the body and blood of Christ are truly and substantially present, and are truly tendered, with those things which are seen, bread and wine, to those who receive the Sacrament. This belief we constantly defend, as the subject has been carefully examined and considered. For since Paul says, 1 Cor. 10:16, that the bread is the communion of the Lord’s body, etc., it would follow, if the Lord’s body were not truly present, that the bread is not a communion of the body, but only of the spirit of Christ.6

Confessional Lutherans generally hold to closed communion, which can cause fellow believers in Jesus to wonder why they are not invited to participate in the Lord’s Supper. Put simply, Holy Communion is taken seriously because scripture says to take it seriously and Lutherans want to make sure that those who partake of the body and blood of Christ have properly recognized the body and eat and drink in a worthy manner. Fencing the table in this manner is a sign of pastoral care that makes faithful shepherding a precursor to communing.

Too Much of a Good Thing

Lutherans generally favor more frequent celebration of Holy Communion. Luther, in the large catechism, gives spiritual context for the urgency and frequency: “If you could see how many knives, darts, and arrows are aimed at you every moment, you would be glad to come to the Sacrament as often as possible.”7 We are not commanded in scripture to partake with a particular frequency, but the need for forgiveness, the comfort of grace, and the nourishment of our souls points to seriousness and regularity. No matter how often you come to the Lord’s table, it is not too much of a good thing.

Moments Magnified

One of the first times I visited a Lutheran congregation there was a moment that led to the epiphany referenced earlier. It was not exactly during communion; however, it was the precursor to it as we prepared ourselves through confession and absolution. We began singing the first two stanzas of “Great is Thy Faithfulness,” we paused to confess our sins corporately, and then the pastor pronounced the absolution. We were forgiven on account of Christ. Then we picked up with the third verse and I sang it like I had hundreds of times before and yet somehow it impacted me with the weight of glory and a peace that passed all understanding.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine and ten thousand beside.

That inversion point was what began my rethinking of the church, the sacraments, and the posture of heart and mind that we sinners bring before our gracious God. As I made my way to the altar rail later that day to receive “the body of Christ broken for me” and the “blood of Christ shed for me” the peace of God literally gave strength for the day and bright hope for the next.

Recently, we had several weeks that the wintry weather prevented us from gathering together for worship and partaking in the Lord’s Supper. The chaplain and mentor to our current Vicar made the suggestion to have a Wednesday night worship service with Holy Communion and was willing to make the hour commute yet again and in another bout of possible weather. Why did he make the suggestion and why was he willing to do this? Because coming to the table of the Lord for forgiveness of sins matters. His genuine pastoral concern was a powerful reminder to me that God’s word and promises should guide our practices. We believe that the body and blood of Christ are in, with, and under the bread and wine and that partaking is for the forgiveness of sins because God’s word says so.

Holy Communion is not an optional luxury that followers of Christ can casually contemplate or recklessly relegate. Our Savior’s words of institution and the apostle’s words of admonition point us to the reality of Christ’s presence, the severity of false understanding, and the mercy given in consuming the body and blood of our Lord. Let us consider rightly, consume worthily, and cherish appropriately the good gift that Christ instituted and gives His children as often as they partake.

Footnotes

  1. Ignatius of Antioch, Letter to the Smyrnaeans 6, in The Apostolic Fathers, trans. J. B. Lightfoot and J. R. Harmer, ed. Michael W. Holmes, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), 231.
  2. Justin Martyr, First Apology 66, in Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994), 185–86.
  3. “The Marburg Articles (1529),” Article 15, in German History in Documents and Images, trans. Ellen Yutzy Glebe, accessed February 9, 2026, https://germanhistorydocs.org/en/from-the-reformations-to-the-thirty-years-war-1500-1648/ghdi:document-4311.
  4. Augustine, Tractates on the Gospel of John, 26.12, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, vol. 7, ed. Philip Schaff (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1888), accessed February 15, 2026, https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/1701026.htm.
  5. Augustine, Sermons (184–229Z) on the Liturgical Seasons, sermon 227, trans. Edmund Hill, The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century, Part III, vol. 6 (Hyde Park, NY: New City Press, 1993), 300.
  6. Apology of the Augsburg Confession, Article X, in The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, ed. Robert Kolb and Timothy J. Wengert, trans. and ed. Charles Arand et al., accessed February 15, 2026, https://thebookofconcord.org/apology-of-the-augsburg-confession/article-x/.
  7. Martin Luther, Large Catechism, V.82, in The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, ed. Robert Kolb and Timothy J. Wengert, trans. and ed. Charles Arand et al. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2000), 469.

Bibliography

Apology of the Augsburg Confession. Article X. In The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church. Edited by Robert Kolb and Timothy J. Wengert. Translated and edited by Charles Arand et al. Accessed February 15, 2026. https://thebookofconcord.org/apology-of-the-augsburg-confession/article-x/

Augustine. Sermons (184–229Z) on the Liturgical Seasons. Translated by Edmund Hill. The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century. Part III, vol. 6. Hyde Park, NY: New City Press, 1993.

Augustine. Tractates on the Gospel of John. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers. First Series. Vol. 7. Edited by Philip Schaff. Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1888. Accessed February 15, 2026. https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/1701026.htm

Ignatius of Antioch. Letter to the Smyrnaeans. In The Apostolic Fathers. Translated by J. B. Lightfoot and J. R. Harmer. Edited by Michael W. Holmes. 3rd ed. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007.

Justin Martyr. First Apology. In Ante-Nicene Fathers. Vol. 1. Edited by Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994.

Luther, Martin. Large Catechism. In The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church. Edited by Robert Kolb and Timothy J. Wengert. Translated and edited by Charles Arand et al. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2000.

“The Marburg Articles (1529).” In German History in Documents and Images. Translated by Ellen Yutzy Glebe. Accessed February 9, 2026. https://germanhistorydocs.org/en/from-the-reformations-to-the-thirty-years-war-1500-1648/ghdi:document-4311

Baptism: A Decrescendo Case for the Lutheran View

My son is due in the next few weeks, and amidst the deluge of impending changes and responsibilities, baptism has resurfaced to the top of my mind and heart. The issue was one of the original blockades to transitioning to Lutheranism; however, after deeper study, it became a theological topic that was biblically simple, clear, and full of power. After a few years of being Lutheran and with a little one on the way, this seemed an appropriate time to elaborate on my thought journey and solidifying convictions regarding this profound sacrament.

The strongest case comes from Scripture and then transitions to historical testimony and belief. I’d like to offer a decrescendo case for the Lutheran view of baptism along with some brief reflections on the objections.


The Biblical Case for Efficacy in Baptism

Efficacy doesn’t equate to a mechanical, faithless act. Baptismal efficacy simply answers a few basic questions in the affirmative. Does baptism do anything? Is grace given and are sins forgiven via baptism? The Lutheran view says yes. Set aside your theological, denominational, and modern evangelical assumptions for a moment and open your mind to what the Scriptures teach regarding baptism. It’s important to start with the passages related directly to baptism.

The most obvious passage to begin with is 1 Peter 3:21: “Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ.” Most objections to baptismal regeneration from this passage boil down to denying that baptism means baptism, saves means saves, or that baptism now saves you means what it says. So, interpreters assert that baptism is not water baptism, that “saves” is not salvific, or that the thrust of Peter’s line of thought is metaphorical rather than actual. However, is this the plain, contextual, grammatical reading of the verse?

A simple survey of the usage of the original Greek words for baptism and saves indicates that the words mean what they mean at face value. Baptism is referencing water baptism, and saves is referencing deliverance from death in a spiritual sense. So, is the phrase “baptism now saves you” collectively referring to the efficacious nature of baptism, or is it a parallel figurative example of Noah’s deliverance? The flow of the language makes baptism an antitype of the ark, which literally saved Noah and his family from the flood. We then see the clarifying clause that this is not merely an outward cleansing, but that which gives a clear conscience through the resurrection of Christ.

Acts 2:38 specifically connects baptism with the forgiveness of sins. The grammar and flow of the verse does not allow for only connecting forgiveness of sins to repentance. Baptism forgives sins because Christ forgives sins, and Paul will give an explicit foundation for what happens in baptism to accomplish this. Romans 6:3–4 and Galatians 3:26–27 show us that baptism unites us with Christ in His death and resurrection into new life. This is not passive, symbolic language.

These are by no means the only passages, but they are an undeniable core of scriptural testimony that baptism is not merely symbolic. Neither is it merely a sign and a seal to “membership in the covenant community.” Baptism does something because God’s Word promises that it does.

We might discuss other passages that refer to washing or the washing of regeneration to bolster this; however, those do not disprove these passages if they are not referring to the sacrament and would only solidify the Lutheran view. Taken altogether, these core passages point us to the undeniable blessing, reality, and efficacy of baptism.


The Historical Case for Efficacy in Baptism

When we examine the earliest records of patristic belief and practice, we see near unanimity around baptismal regeneration for the first fifteen hundred years of church history. In simplest terms, we can say that the earliest and early church fathers held that baptism forgives sins. It was not merely a symbol, nor was it viewed as merely an empty “seal” to usher God’s people into a covenant community without forgiveness of sins.

One of the earliest written records gives us an implied understanding of baptismal regeneration as the prevailing consensus of the time. The Shepherd of Hermas tells a parable in Similitude 9, chapter 16 that emphasizes this view of baptism:

“For, before a man bears the name of the Son of God he is dead; but when he receives the seal he lays aside his deadness, and obtains life. The seal, then, is the water: they descend into the water dead, and they arise alive. And to them, accordingly, was this seal preached, and they made use of it that they might enter into the kingdom of God.”¹

Irenaeus was a second-century church father who likely wrote his magnum opus sometime between AD 150 and 180. In book 1, chapter 21 of Against Heresies, Irenaeus gives a clear purpose of baptism as “for the remission of sins.”² Likewise, another second-century saint, Justin Martyr, described baptism as clearly effectual:

“Then they are brought by us where there is water, and are regenerated in the same manner in which we were ourselves regenerated. For, in the name of God, the Father and Lord of the universe, and of our Savior Jesus Christ, and of the Holy Spirit, they then receive the washing with water.”³

These are clear indicators of what the earlier leaders and thinkers in the church believed regarding baptism. Origen and Augustine, cited later regarding infant baptism, also affirmed baptismal regeneration along with many others. While the authority does not rest with the thinkers themselves, it is helpful and wise to ask ourselves whether they were in a better position to understand the passages and formulate belief as those with closer connection to the biblical authors, or whether the distance of fifteen hundred years was more likely to allow for a philosophical muddying of the scriptural waters.


The Biblical Case for Infant Baptism

Infants are not the only ones to be baptized, but the paradigm and flow of Scripture point to them being baptized. To be fair, there is no single verse or passage that explicitly commands us to baptize infants. For that reason, this falls lower down on the arguments for a Lutheran view. The case is solid nonetheless, but it should be noted that the case for believer’s baptism, apart from the efficacy aspect, also has a biblical framework and grounds for argument. Doctrines do not have to be specifically spelled out in a literal verse, although that does occur with some issues and makes things more theologically tidy. Nonetheless, the Scriptures give us multiple examples to point to the baptism of infants.

Scripture is replete with instances of faith in infants and children, and the paradigm of households coming to faith and being set apart via God’s commanded means is undeniable. John the Baptist looked toward the Messiah even before he was born (Luke 1:39–45). Jesus Himself said to let the little children come to Him and even pronounced that the kingdom belongs to those with faith like them (Matthew 19:13–15). We also see multiple examples of oikos baptisms where households come to faith (Acts 10:44–48; Acts 16:15; Acts 16:31–33; Acts 18:8; 1 Corinthians 1:16). Together, these biblical examples and arcs point toward the conclusion that baptism is an act of God connected with a physical means that grants faith and is intended for His people of all ages.

One of the most common arguments for paedobaptism among the Reformed is the continuity between circumcision and baptism. Scripture explicitly connects the two:

“In him also you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God, who raised him from the dead” (Colossians 2:11–12).

Lutheran belief largely overlaps with the Reformed on that point, but also extends the biblical foundation to include all of the scriptural pictures of salvation where God uses physical means to accomplish spiritual ends. We see that the entirety of the family was included in all of the explicit biblical connections to baptism. In addition to circumcision, those who passed through the Red Sea (1 Corinthians 10:1-2) and Noah’s family delivered through the ark (1 Peter 3:20) are pictures of Baptism explicitly mirroring the entirety of the family in deliverance.


The Historical Case for Infant Baptism

While the predominance of early Christian belief affirms efficacy in baptism, there are more nuances and variations when it comes to infant baptism. Tertullian is perhaps the best example of the divergence of thought between affirming the efficacy of baptism on one hand while pointing toward believer’s baptism on the other.

“The Lord does indeed say, ‘Forbid them not to come unto me.’ Let them come, then, while they are growing up; let them come while they are learning, while they are learning whither to come; let them become Christians when they have become able to know Christ.”

Nonetheless, the majority view is certainly in favor of baptizing infants. Origen states that the practice of baptizing even very young children “was received from the apostles.”⁵ Likewise, Augustine argued for an apostolic origin in infant baptism:

“And if any one seek for divine authority in this matter, though what is held by the whole Church, and that not as instituted by Councils, but as a matter of invariable custom, is rightly held to have been handed down by apostolic authority…”⁶

Again, the authority does not rest with figures of church history. However, seeing the continuity of the collective understanding of scripture in the early church and the underlying assumed paradigms as handed down from the apostles pointing toward efficacious, infant baptism should be enough for us to check our 21st century assumptions and let God’s word pour over our minds.

Some Clarifying Final Thoughts

As a Former Baptist

The current Baptist, symbolic view of baptism was an incredibly late development theologically and historically. Nonetheless, a solid biblical framework exists to espouse the believer’s baptism view particularly. Ultimately, I no longer find it convincing, but more importantly, I can no longer answer the following question with even a whimper of a yes: Does Scripture teach that baptism is only an outward sign of an inward change?

Contemporary Reformed or Historic Reformed

If you read the historic Reformed and if you poll the average Reformed congregation, you will often get entirely different pictures of baptism. The historic Reformed view is much closer to the Lutheran view, while the practical belief and practice within many modern Reformed churches is functionally closer to the Baptist view, with the exceptions of the mode of baptism and baptizing infants.

The historic confessions did not change, but the reaction against Lutheran thought in the aftermath of the Reformation, the emphasis on introspection through the Puritans, and a hardened stance against anything Catholic-adjacent on one hand or remotely “mysterious” on the other with the rise of rationalism contributed to a modern view among the Reformed that lacks the original robust emphasis. It is fair to say that their language has softened specifically regarding efficacy. A. A. Hodge was a prominent Princeton and Presbyterian theologian who didn’t shy away from the historic Reformed language while also holding a modified view in line with Calvin’s divergence from the understanding of baptism in the patristics.

“Inasmuch as this water is God’s testimony that the child you have brought hither is guilty and impure, do you present him herein to Christ, that he may receive the forgiveness of sins and the washing of regeneration and the renewing of the Holy Ghost?”

The point is that Hodge is comfortable using the language of forgiveness of sins and regeneration as explicitly connected to baptism even if he does not hold to its efficacy at the time of the baptism. Most in the Reformed camps today would not use that language at all.

Faith Alone?

Probably the most consistent critique of the Lutheran view of baptism is that one cannot hold to salvation sola fide and baptismal regeneration at the same time. However, this is a misunderstanding of the locus and focus of baptismal efficacy. The locus of baptism is God’s Word and promise, and the focus of baptism is the faith that God gives to the recipients. When a person is baptized, they are united with Christ in His death. If one holds to faith as a gift, then it is no issue at all to understand baptism as a means of God delivering that gift. Sins are forgiven, we are regenerated, and united with Christ by faith, and baptism is one way that God accomplishes this.

Objective versus Automatic

The Lutheran view differs from the Catholic view. The Latin phrase that describes the Catholic view of baptism is ex opere operato, which means that the act of baptism automatically works in and of itself. Lutheranism holds that the Word and promise of God are the basis of efficacy and that faith receives what baptism gives. God’s good gift of forgiveness in baptism is not mechanical, but it is objective.

Physical Means for Spiritual Ends

How can God use physical means to accomplish spiritual ends? This question has a gnostic undertone as it communicates a distaste for the physical realm. However, God has used physical means to accomplish spiritual realities consistently. God used a bronze serpent to bring healing to His people (Numbers 21:4–9; John 3:14–15), and He used mud and saliva to bring sight to the blind (John 9). Moreover, He used the blood of His only begotten Son to save sinners. The point is that God commonly uses means to perform miracles, bring healing, or to save.

What about Communion?

If baptism is efficaciously connected to faith, then why not also commune small children? This is a logical question to pose to Lutherans who argue for efficacy in baptism and practice paedobaptism. Again, the Scriptures guide us into understanding not only the significance and purpose, but also the practice of what they command. While baptism is a sacrament administered in a one-time event, communion is designed for the ongoing nurturing of faith, and we are commanded to examine ourselves and reflect upon our faith before partaking. This is the difference between what theologians have called direct faith and reflective faith. Infants are gifted direct faith but are not yet ready to practice reflective faith in keeping with the sacrament of the altar, according to God’s Word (1 Corinthians 11:27–32).


Why Does This Matter?

I’ve yet to quote Luther in defending the Lutheran view of baptism, but one of his concluding points from the Large Catechism regarding the significance of holding the line of the historical belief on baptism is excellent:

“Therefore, every Christian has enough in Baptism to learn and to do all his life… In short, Baptism is so far beyond us that if timid nature could realize this, it might well doubt whether it could be true.”

It matters because baptism connects us to Christ, His death, and resurrection. It matters because it forgives sins. It matters because our baptism is not a symbolic act that we perform, but a saving act that God gives to His children. Let us not be timid in our approach to understanding baptism.

I’m not going to settle a debate that has raged for centuries, but my underlying point is that much of what is now disagreed on did not rage at all for centuries. The church has a long-standing tradition that stems from its understanding of the sacred texts. The Lutheran view starts with the promises and commands of Scripture and is bolstered by the testimony of a great cloud of witnesses of faith who held baptism in higher regard than is held by many Protestants and even the Reformed today. When my son is baptized, it will be a supernatural event that will capture my heart, delight my soul, and glorify the God who gifts him faith as He promised.


Footnotes

  1. The Shepherd of Hermas, Similitude 9.16, in Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 2, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994).
  2. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1.21, in Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994).
  3. Justin Martyr, First Apology 61, in Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994).
  4. Tertullian, On Baptism 18, in Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 3, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994).
  5. Origen, Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans 5.9.11, in Patrologia Graeca, vol. 13, ed. J.-P. Migne (Paris: J.-P. Migne, 1857).
  6. Augustine, On the Forgiveness of Sins and Baptism 1.24.34, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, vol. 5, ed. Philip Schaff (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994).
  7. Archibald Alexander Hodge, Manual of Forms: For Baptism, Admission to the Communion, Administration of the Lord’s Supper, Marriage and Funerals, Ordination of Elders and Deacons, Etc. (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication and Sabbath-School Work, 1920).
  8. Martin Luther, Large Catechism, Baptism, in Concordia: The Lutheran Confessions, ed. Paul Timothy McCain (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2006).

Bibliography

Augustine. On the Forgiveness of Sins and Baptism. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, vol. 5. Edited by Philip Schaff. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994.

Hodge, Archibald Alexander. Manual of Forms: For Baptism, Admission to the Communion, Administration of the Lord’s Supper, Marriage and Funerals, Ordination of Elders and Deacons, Etc. Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication and Sabbath-School Work, 1920.

Irenaeus. Against Heresies. In Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1. Edited by Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994.

Justin Martyr. First Apology. In Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1. Edited by Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994.

Luther, Martin. Large Catechism. In Concordia: The Lutheran Confessions, edited by Paul Timothy McCain. St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2006.

Origen. Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans. In Patrologia Graeca, vol. 13. Edited by J.-P. Migne. Paris: J.-P. Migne, 1857.

Tertullian. On Baptism. In Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 3. Edited by Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994.

The Shepherd of Hermas. In Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 2. Edited by Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994.

Crossing Our T’s, Forgetting the Cross

“You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder!” (James 2:19)

Mark 1:23–24 and Luke 8:27–28 highlight demons fully understanding Jesus’ divinity and power. Jesus called Peter blessed only to call him Satan shortly thereafter. What changed? Is theologically precise knowledge not the ultimate pursuit of Christians and the focus of the ministry of the church?

In what ways do we carry out church in the name of Jesus while bypassing his death and resurrection? Do we shudder like the demons in understanding, and insightfully answer questions of Jesus’ identity like Peter only to set our minds on the “things” of man (Matthew 16:23)? Have we sidestepped the mission of Jesus in the very name of Jesus? That question should strike a healthy fear of God in the core of our souls as we contemplate it and its implications.

Shuddering belief is vague, disconnected from the atoning work and resurrection of Christ on our behalf. Like Peter, it misses the explicit proclamation of Christ’s death even while recognizing His divinity.

Imagine a church with a textbook understanding of God’s nature and attributes. Their statement of faith or confessions offer a clear articulation of theological orthodoxy. Yet, week in and week out there is no cross talk. The sermon exposits the text, includes historical background, and the practical application is winsomely actionable. But what of salvation? What of Christ crucified? What of the Son of God’s atoning work on the cross for you? This death and resurrection of Christ as the basis of our justification is the glorious, scandalous news that we all too often overlook or undervalue.

Evil as defined by the prophet Jeremiah was twofold: forsaking God, and turning to waterless cisterns (Jeremiah 2:13). John 4:13–14 points us to a well that will never run dry. You cannot preach Christ crucified and resurrected for sinners too much. It is inexhaustible good news. It is perpetually needed in the ears of us works-obsessed intellectuals who dot all the I’s on our theological dissertations but cannot seem to understand the profound necessity of the gospel.

This isn’t to say that correct doctrine is unimportant. We must be vigilant in rightly dividing the word of truth. However, our tireless pursuit of theological precision must not supplant resting in the reality of God’s grace secured in Christ.

Shuddering belief fears and understands God but doesn’t trust the work of Christ to make us right with God. My fellow believers in Jesus, let us not cross all our theological T’s only to forget the cross. To do so is to believe and confess the way that the demons do.

An Intolerable Grace

We can bring ourselves to accept that we need forgiveness, but what about grace extended to our enemies as easily as to us? We elder brother types simply cannot tolerate the later workers in the vineyard earning the same wage. Like Jonah, we know full well that God is gracious and abounding in steadfast love—and that’s precisely why we tend to flee God’s call. I’ve seen this exhibited in three major ways.

Imago Dei My Way

It’s easy to view others who think like we do as those created in God’s image. But what about those who think the opposite of us? What about those who outright oppose our deepest convictions? Are they created in God’s image? The problem is that we like Imago Dei our way and live our lives with compassion only for those who are in our own image. This can even escalate to a theological posture if we’re not careful.

Metapersonal Determinism

You’ve perhaps heard of metaphysical determinism, but I’ve often seen this creep into what I’d like to call metapersonal determinism where those not chosen by God are the ones that don’t line up with our convictions or preferences. The theological issue of predestination and limited atonement in particular will not be settled in a blog post. However, those who take a hard Reformed view on the latter must at a minimum be cautious over how their belief is practically expressed. A combination of determinism and good old-fashioned human hubris can easily lead to a fatalism where all our “enemies” are the ones not chosen. This flies in the face of scripture and, more importantly, the nature of God Himself. Our God desires that all should come to repentance and sends His prophets, preachers, and all disciples out to share the good news with the world.

Pharisaical Blindness

One of the most ironic and absurd moments for the Pharisees—of the many we see recorded in the Gospels—is when they rebuke Jesus’ healing on the Sabbath only to huddle and plot to kill Him on the Sabbath. We can spot the absurd levels of hypocrisy, yet we take that same insane posture every time we judge the speck in our brothers’ eyes while missing the plank in our own. I can easily call out the Pharisees and miss how critical I am of others much less the personal sins that beset my own character and walk each day.

An intolerable grace is a grace that is extended to those I don’t like. The good news is that God’s grace is available even for that level of arrogant, wicked idolatry of self. We can be transformed by God’s grace to see others as those created in His image, as those for whom Christ died, and have the scales fall from our own eyes so that we like Paul can view and share Christ, His Cross, and His Kingdom to the uttermost parts of humanity and the world.

What Does God Need with a Starship?

Star Trek V was always one of my least favorite of the movies. Yet, it included a scene that always stuck out in my memory as Kirk dared to question the being at the center of the universe: “excuse me, what does God need with a starship?” The silliness of an odd numbered Star Trek movie aside, the sentiment resonated in ways outside the movie universe. It was a poignant moment that pointed out the absurdity of an almighty being needing the assistance of a vessel and crew.

Beyond the cinematic sci-fi universe, there are strategies and tools that the church should solemnly and prayerfully reflect upon. Christians would be wise to consider three questions that underscore some of our own absurdities.

What Does God Need with a Fog Machine?

Admittedly, this is an easy target, but it is emblematic of a bigger philosophy. Just because something is shiny and attractive or a congregation has the resources to include a thing, should this be part of our weekly ministry? When does lavishness and excess cross over into vanity or idolatry? Perhaps it has more to do with trust than tools.

What Does God Need with a TikTok?

Does God need influencers? What is the difference between being an influencer and being salt and light in a world of darkness and decay? Is there a difference between being a witness for your church’s brand and being a witness for the gospel of Christ? Being engaged on contemporary platforms isn’t wrong — it’s simply not necessary. God has grown His church through word and sacrament for centuries before radio, television, internet, or social media. Perhaps it has more to do with faithfulness than relevance.

What Does God Need with a Parachurch Organization?

Parachurch organizations have their place within the life of the church but they aren’t nearly as important as many Christians have imagined. Conferences, seminars, books, and podcasts often center on personalities and ministry emphases in ways that can distract from the church’s biblical role. As they take off, they launch their own publishing companies, social media network, or even seminaries. Perhaps it has more to do with providence than platforms.

Three Foundational Questions:

  1. How does this look when viewed through the global filter of reality? When you factor in our brothers and sisters across the seas who meet in huddled corners, it reveals the true necessities of Christian worship. With so many pragmatic and gimmicky trends touted as best ministry practices, we must pause and ask how our brothers and sisters across the world would view them. Would it be necessary? Would it be prudent?
  2. Does this build God’s church God’s way? Are we adding volunteers to our programmatic roles, increasing the number of viewers to our live stream, and expanding our church branding strategy all while the faith of God’s people atrophies and the good news of the kingdom through Christ’s atoning work goes unheralded? Paul highlighted the surpassing glory of the unveiled hope we have in Christ and renounced underhanded, cunning ways of dealing with God’s word (2 Corinthians 3:12-4:6).
  3. Does this make Christ preeminent in all things? Saint Patrick’s famous prayer should double as a grid of discernment for our ministry philosophies and practices. Is “Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, in the eye of everyone who sees me, and in the ear of everyone who hears me?” Christ is preeminent in all things (Colossians 1:15-20), but do our ministry philosophy and practices reflect this reality?

Admittedly, I’ve raised more questions than anything else. I hope it helps each of us feel the outrageous absurdity of how far church culture has drifted from the core of Christianity in its ministry approach. What does God need with a starship, fog machine, TikTok, or parachurch ministry? He unequivocally doesn’t. The church has survived for millennia without these things and continues to thrive in corners of the world without such distractions. The most profound, impactful, and kingdom building aspects of church ministry are not rooted in mankind being clever, innovative, or culturally relevant. We do ministry best when we trust and herald Christ most.

Not My Kingdom

Jesus told Peter to put his sword away, and a short time later said to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world.” Jesus taught that childlike faith was a prerequisite for the kingdom of heaven. What is the kingdom of God, and what is it not? What does it mean to build the kingdom? Are we called to build it or bear witness to it? We too often answer these weighty questions with more zeal than wisdom.

Approximately twenty years ago, I listened to a radio show where the hosts and the guest were discussing the kingdom of God. The host observed that the kingdom of God is upside down from this world. The elderly saint guest chimed in with gentle wisdom, saying, “The kingdom of God is right side up; this world is upside down.” It may seem like a semantic difference, but it is profound. God’s kingdom is not of this world, its logic, its power, or its ways. So, how do Christians view and navigate this world while being citizens of another?

Sojourners and Pilgrims

Throughout the Old Testament, the people of God found themselves as exiles. In the New Testament, we see frequent descriptions of God’s people as sojourners and pilgrims who have no lasting city here. Is this an abrogation of our call to discipleship, evangelization, or simply being salt and light? Absolutely not!

Between faith’s definition and its roll call lies the reminder that God’s people have always been exiles.

These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland.  If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.

Hebrews 11:13-16

Salt and Light in Babylon

When commanded to be salt and light in a world of decay and darkness, does that override our status as pilgrims? Jesus’ declaration of our identity follows His blessing of those who are persecuted and reviled in this world, accompanied by the reminder that our reward is great in Heaven (Matthew 5:11-16). Can sojourners also be ambassadors? Peter reminds us of our identity as a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, and a people for his own possession, even as he urges us as sojourners and exiles to live honorably to the glory of God.

How Then Shall We Live?

This is the question we rush to answer while missing a foundational question: how then do we have life? We see this most clearly in the sermon. The pastor often sprints to the practical application aspect of the message to deliver “marching orders” as quickly as the congregation expects them. Our actions flow from our being, yet we try to build the kingdom using the strength of our own hands instead of the power that comes from God. In our rush to “do,” we often default to strategies of worldly success.

Two Faulty Approaches

Building the kingdom of God currently has two prominent yet opposing approaches with the same faulty foundation. The first is building the network and net worth of the church in the name of the kingdom. The second is positioning the church to wield political and cultural power for societal change. One makes the church a corporation, and the other makes it a campaign. Both miss the mark and treat the kingdom like something to be managed or conquered instead of received in childlike dependence. Unfortunately, we’ve seen recent examples.

In the past year, two prominent Southern Baptist pastors have come under scrutiny for their business practices in bringing churches outside the denomination into the denomination, including their assets. Whether you agree or disagree with the criticism, the recurring appeal in each case from the pastors and their supporters was that this was for the “kingdom.” Is building the kingdom synonymous with expanding a megachurch’s satellite campuses and urban footprint? It’s a matter of meaning and motivation, not merely methodology. Is kingdom success defined by institutional reach and branding or by faithfulness to God’s will, word, and ways?

There has been a resurgence of discussion centered on Christian nationalism and theonomy in recent years. We won’t settle the debate here, but suffice it to say that the church still has a role to play in the public square. However, is the kingdom truly built by pastors with flamethrowers (literally!) while doing videos on virtue laced with vitriol? Is kingdom building the same as accruing political power or cultural capital?

Recently, I sat in the pew and observed the pastor and vicar of my church bring communion to our eldest member. She can no longer go up to the front, but heaven came down and met her with forgiveness and peace through the body and blood of Christ. In that moment, it occurred to me that what I had just witnessed had more to do with kingdom growth than launching a church plant 30 miles away in a city that also has hundreds of churches or ripping the culture a new one on a vlog. What do evangelical corporatism and Christian nationalism have in common? They make us soldiers instead of sojourners, politicians instead of pilgrims, and confuse earthly power in the name of God with the power of God.

I imagine Jesus would look at our church brand expansion and political power plans and echo what he said to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world.” The right-side-up kingdom is where bread and wine deliver forgiveness, exiles testify to God’s glory and grace through the humility of their obedience, and, most importantly, sinners and saints alike are redeemed through Christ’s death and resurrection.

The right-side-up kingdom doesn’t need branding campaigns, multi-site demographic studies, or political savvy. It transforms lives through the potent simplicity of word, water, bread, and wine. Let us look to the future then as “ambassador exiles” not armed with worldly wit, but empowered by the wisdom of God. The kingdom comes not through force or fame, but through foolishness: the foolishness of the cross (1 Corinthians 1:18-31).

Three Ways Church Doesn’t Do Anything For Us

“Church just doesn’t do anything for me.” We’ve likely heard it and even felt the sentiment ourselves. There are three ways I’ve heard this expressed, which amounts to a literal, emotional, or spiritual lack. Reflecting on each and considering a paradigm shift can help us understand what the church is meant to be.

When Programs Fail Us

Sunday school, children’s, and music programs might be one of the top deciding factors of where parents will decide to go to church. This is the sense that I’ve heard the sentiment that church doesn’t do anything for us the most as families search for the perfect church to meet their programming “needs.” Yet, our brothers and sisters from centuries past or from gospel-hostile regimes remind us of what the Apostle Paul proclaimed to the Corinthians, For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4).

Emotional Placebos

Sometimes when “church doesn’t do anything for you,” what’s meant is that it doesn’t move you, step on your toes, or inspire you on an emotional level. The missing piece here is a heart connection that moves beyond cerebral or structural concerns. There can be a spectrum here between the desire of an experiential high to wanting a weekly shot of inspiration to keep going. What we fail to realize is that each of these are merely emotional placebos that could never take the place of the supernatural work of God through His promises.

Symbolic Grace

Beyond programs and emotions, there are the promises of God to give grace, strength, peace, and forgiveness His way through His means. When the sacraments are viewed as merely symbolic, the only thing that occurs is a remembrance no matter how solemn it may be. In a merely symbolic view, grace is not imparted, peace is not proclaimed, and sins are not absolved. When none of these things occur, it’s no wonder the “church doesn’t do anything for us.”

A Different Perspective

I’ve gone through all of these mindsets at different stages of my Christian journey. I was focused on programs that met my needs or that met the needs of younger families in the congregation. I was obsessed with church being conducted in such a way that the fire of my passion for God was stoked by the worship service and ministry offerings. However, these days I simply need God’s forgiveness, His grace, and His peace.

The paradigm shift came in understanding that church is not where we go to serve God, it is where He first serves us. We receive God’s forgiveness through confession and absolution, we hear the good news of the gospel proclaimed to reorient our works-obsessed hearts, and we partake of Christ’s body and blood for the forgiveness of sins. We come as sinners, beggars, and recipients within the church walls. Literally, tangibly, and supernaturally empowered by God’s means of grace, we then serve our neighbor through overflowing acts of charity in love outside the church walls.

Laughter, Masks, and Becoming

The truth is neither a respecter of persons nor seen in the eye of the beholder. Nonetheless, each of us has a personal truth that either aligns or conflicts with objective reality. For most of my life I’ve been a walking contradiction that became gradually more aware of my idiosyncrasies. Self-awareness is a blessing and a curse. You can see things about yourself more clearly but too often get stuck in your own head, so you learn how to prevent others from seeing the inner struggle.

Laughter as a Mask

I’m adept at reading the room and have become quite the actor, learning which mask to wear to throw anyone off the trail of knowing the true me.  Laughter can be a medicine or a mask. I can recall one of the first times I used laughter to cover the underlying anxiety that’s always just below the surface. I was in elementary school and decided to say out loud a clever line that popped in my head in response to the teacher. It was incredibly uncharacteristic of me. We’d just been given an assignment and all finished rather quickly. The teacher remarked “number one, you’ve not had enough time to finish this assignment” to which I replied, “number two, we’re through!” The class erupted in laughter and I learned how laughter can be an optical, emotional illusion. That discovery was a first step on a long and winding passageway of identity.

Who I Am

The truth is that I’m a rare personality type, and I’ve encountered precious few people who understand me, let alone share mutual interests. I can count on three fingers the people with whom I’ve felt the deepest resonance. The practical effect is that I have to hide my personality behind the smokescreen of small talk. Ironically, small talk is one of my most intense pet peeves.

To give a science fiction point of reference, I’ve been called Spock numerous times. The thing with being a “Vulcan” isn’t that there are no emotions but rather stronger emotions that require careful regulation. I’m incredibly empathic and feel the emotional landscape of my environment. So, I have to keep a lid on it to maintain decorum and the appearance of normalcy. 

My personality type also has a limit on the amount of emotional investment I can maintain. This means I can only have a handful of close friends to connect with on a deeper level. For those few friends, I will go to the moon and back. But while that tight-knit group gets all of me, everyone else is kept at arm’s length. This also results in breaking ties with those who may have once been in that inner circle as needed. It’s not personal. It’s that I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to allow more than that handful of closest friends. I’m sorry for the relationships that just phased out or ended abruptly.

Due to my strong sense of independence, I strive not to burden others with my emotional or personal struggles. Yet because of the facade I maintain, it may well be unnoticed to the casual observer the state I’m in emotionally at any given moment. Sometimes a combination of emotional burnout and exhaustion removes my ability to mask my status.

One of the deepest longings of my heart is to be understood. Ironically, I’m an amalgamation of paradoxical and contradictory inclinations. I’m a perfectionist easily frustrated with details. I’m an introvert who craves the deepest of connections. I’m an optimist at heart with extremely pessimistic tendencies.

My love language is the mutual enjoyment of something in real time. I feel loved most when sharing genuine laughter with someone or discussing a common interest in depth. I seldom feel loved. I usually feel tolerated at best.

I expect everyone to operate with the same core values that I do in terms of motivation and interaction with others. I find transactional relationships morally repulsive and don’t tolerate that perspective well. Why not help someone just because it’s the right thing to do? How can anyone only offer kindness with the expectation of compensation? Is that kindness at all?

Identity and Culture at Large

There is a disconnect between my identity and how society seeks to define me, particularly as a man. Cultural and evangelical expectations of masculinity are distasteful and opposite of the personhood of Christ I see in the New Testament. Both the caricature of the incompetent sitcom dad and the workaholic, powerlifting, tycoon that forces their way through life like a bull in a china shop are hollow and harmful. There is more to being a man than emulating cultural idols. What of humility? What of sacrifice? What of weeping? What of compassion? What of righteous indignation? What of Christ?

I’m a product of a traumatic childhood and, in many ways, just a plain and simple damned strange man (haha). The truth is, I am who I am—but I’m also becoming who I am in Christ. I’m a sojourner discovering what it means to be a follower of Christ that simultaneously knows himself and denies himself. I’m still discovering what that means with the haunted and even hidden corridors of my inner dimensions. Even though you likely have a different outlook or personality from me, may the peace of Christ guide you through your own corridors with grace.

The Paradox of Obedience and Motivation

When does God despise obedience? Why would God command us to do things in specific ways with full knowledge of our depravity? These are not simple questions, and it will take many layers to work toward understanding the beauty, mercy, glory, and goodness of God in our obedience and motivation. Despite the seeming complexity, the through line is the simplicity of Christ crucified and risen to become our righteousness in deeds and desires of omission and commission.

Right Sacrifices and Wrong Obedience

God instituted the sacrificial system, so why was He displeased by the obedience of His people to follow it? Amos 5:22 identifies the issue. Psalm 51:16-17 identifies the problem as well and also points toward the answer. God despises obedience when our actions become mere rituals disconnected from His character and devoid of His steadfast love. 

Hebrews 9 outlines God’s perfect plan foreshadowed and embodied in the person and work of Jesus Christ. Sacrifices rightly offered were always more than ritualistic obedience. They were copies of heavenly things that pointed toward Christ’s once-and-for-all sacrifice, not in handmade representations, but in the eternal reality of redemption in Heaven itself. Sacrifices rightly offered are those done in complete obedience, with pure motivation, and in connection with the lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. 

The Sermon that Exposes Us

As Jesus “went throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom” (Matthew 4:23), He went up the mountain to sit down and teach. Love my friends? I’m not great at maintaining even those most precious relationships. Love my enemies? That is an impossible command. Jesus’ sermon on the mount intensifies the reality of our depravity by highlighting the necessity of pure inner motivation rather than mere outward compliance. 

The sermon on the mount is, in part, the great equalizer of anyone under the mistaken impression that they might scrape by in personal adherence to the law. Behavioral modification isn’t enough. The notion of innocent, law-abiding Christians is an illusion. We are all sinners in word, deed, and desire. Matthew 5:48 reminds us of what God requires, and Romans 3:21-28 explains how the justification of sinners takes place. 

Out of Nothing, Outside Ourselves

But if the sermon on the mount exposes our inability, how then is faithful obedience even possible? Latin is a dead language, but two terms help us understand our natural status and how God supernaturally works. Ex nihilo means “out of nothing” and typically refers to creation. God created “ex nihilo.” Extra nos means “outside of ourselves” and usually refers to salvation. Salvation is “extra nos.” 

Out of nothing, God creates faith outside ourselves. God works through the means of grace by His promises. He promised that baptism kills and resurrects (Romans 6:4, Colossians 2:12). He promised that His body and blood in the supper were for the forgiveness of sins (Matthew 26:28). Faith comes through hearing and hearing through the word of Christ (Romans 10:17)! He will do what He promises, won’t He? In the emptiness of our incapable depravity, He gives grace upon grace. We cannot bridge the gap between our obedience, motivation, and God’s expectation of righteousness in word, will, and deed. Out of that deadness and outside of ourselves, Christ’s death and resurrection deliver life just as God promised. Yet, we must be vigilant to rightly understand and live in light of these glorious, gracious realities. 

Legalism and Antinomianism 

Legalism is the elevation of the law to the level of Christ’s sufficient work on the cross. In contrast, antinomianism is the relegation of the law to a level beneath God’s righteous and required commands. Both of these are a constant danger to the church. If you need to strike the balance, read the book of Romans. The oracles of God are a blessing. The law of God is holy, righteous, and good! Yet, it is insufficient to justify.

The law of God is good. Psalm 119 is a powerhouse testimony to this indisputable fact. Across 176 verses, this acrostic Psalm celebrates the blessedness of God’s statutes, promises, testimonies, laws, precepts, and righteous rules. “Righteous are you, O Lord, and right are your rules. You have appointed your testimonies in righteousness and in all faithfulness” (Psalm 119:137-138). But the law in all its goodness (Romans 7:12) could not satisfy the righteous demands of God within us (Romans 8:3-4). Jesus did not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it. We constantly struggle to understand that the law of God must not be “relaxed” while simultaneously understanding that only Christ has fulfilled it in word, will, and deed on our behalf. How can we best remember that Christ has lived it while we can only live in light of it?

Law and Gospel 

Finding the middle ground between these two extremes through a proper distinction between law and gospel is what we see in scripture. Muddle the two, and you strike at the very heart of justification by faith alone. What distinguishes the law from the gospel? The law says that you must do while the gospel says it is done. The law threatens while the gospel promises. The law proclaims condemnation, while the gospel announces justification. 

Read through the book of Galatians, and you’ll see this distinction. Paul adamantly emphasizes that a person is not justified by works of the law (Galatians 2:15-16). Is the law contrary to God’s promises? Certainly not! (Galatians 3:21). Yet, look at the way that Paul describes believers’ relationship to the law in his confrontation with Peter: “But when I saw their conduct was not in step with the truth of the gospel.” It’s relying on the works of the law that brings the curse (Galatians 3:10). We are justified by faith, and as believers, we are called to live our lives in alignment with the truth of the gospel. However, our faithfulness to living in such alignment is not what justifies. Christ does that (Romans 7:21-25 and Romans 8:1-4)!

Go and Learn

In two instances in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus quotes Hosea 6:6 and points the Pharisees to the importance of contemplating mercy. The first is after Matthew’s call, and Jesus is reclining at the table with sinners. The second is after the disciples eat heads of grain on the Sabbath. The Pharisees cannot see past their righteousness enough to discern the nature of God’s disposition toward humanity nor His purpose in sending His only begotten Son. Knowing the law full well, they missed the incarnate word standing in front of them! His words to them on both occasions? Go and learn what this means: “I desire mercy and not sacrifice.” We must not deceive ourselves that it’s others who must go and learn. We need to go and learn what this means.

When it comes to obedience and motivation, we tend to think in terms of carrots and sticks. Heaven is a carrot. Hell is a stick. The law is a stick. The gospel is a carrot. But our God is doing something greater than pushing or prodding us along to jump through behavioral hoops. We are not lab rats in His cosmic maze. He supernaturally creates faith where there was none and then faithfully sustains it through His promises. The paradox of obedience and motivation is that, on the one hand, God requires perfection, and on the other hand, He embodies it and applies it to all who believe in Christ by faith. 

Why does God despise heartless obedience? God despises heartless obedience because we can do it on our own. It bypasses Christ. God despises heartless obedience because it is merely transactional in nature. He is a relational God. 

What does obedience require? Obedience requires an alignment of actions with scripture as well as a posture of the heart attuned with Christ by faith. Obedience necessitates not only our deeds but also our wills to operate in alignment with God’s truth. In other words, obedience requires supernatural intervention. In the final analysis, the paradox of obedience and motivation is no paradox at all. Obedience doesn’t earn righteousness—it reflects the righteousness already given by grace through faith.

Pietism, Pristine Theology, and the Freedom of the Cross

The demons don’t lack right thinking about God. The most religiously devout caught the sharpest rebukes of Christ. Yet right thinking about God and striving for holiness are critical aspects of the Christian faith. How can we strike the balance in each of these areas?

Piety Versus Pietism

Piety is the pursuit of holiness to the glory of God, while pietism emphasizes the pursuit of holiness to the glory of God. Notice the distinction. One is the natural overflow of God’s ongoing work in and through our lives, while the other is the self-scripted playbook for pursuing righteousness in and through our efforts. Piety produces holiness, while pietism produces self-righteousness. 

Pristine Theology Versus Orthodoxy 

Is it more important that we wrap up all our theological loose ends or that our theology reflects the deposit of the faith entrusted to us? While the two aren’t mutually exclusive, we must focus on the latter. Focusing on the former can lead to the misalignment of our beliefs with orthodoxy as we employ philosophy and logic to the Bible and elevate our syllogisms to the level of scripture itself. 

Freedom of the Cross 

More dangerous than lapsing into lawlessness or lackadaisicalness in our Christian Living is the insidious nature of our former slavery to masquerade as our current and future freedom. In the name of Christ and righteousness, we exchange Christ and His righteousness for a return to our damnable good works. Paul reminded the Galatians and us that it is for freedom that Christ has set us free! 

Thinking right and living right do not make us right with God. They are the outworking of the Spirit in our lives. Pietism and pristine theology are cheap imitations of piety and orthodoxy. The freedom of the cross leads us into grace and truth that loves our neighbors as ourselves and crucifies the world to us. The freedom of the cross is the freedom of the Christian to live Christianly as by the Spirit.

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