How Little Grace is Too Much Works?

Not many professing Christians would assert outright that they purchased their salvation. In fact, many would list among their “essentials of the faith” the doctrine of “salvation by grace through faith.” But the tendency of the sin nature to lean toward Pelagianism and its Arminian kin is insidious, and takes more subtle forms. (Q: How do you know you’re saved? A: Well, I’m a good person.)

But if we truly believe that sin has radically corrupted our nature, so that without the prior choosing of God and the Spirit’s washing and regeneration we would willingly choose to continue in our sin rather than turn to God in repentance and faith, then the only sure foundation of our salvation is the sovereign saving and keeping power of almighty God through Jesus Christ.

We don’t talk much of God’s sovereignty in salvation. It’s considered by some as too divisive. We do, however, talk a lot about grace, singing of “Amazing Grace,” “grace that is greater than all our sin,” and saying things like “there but for the grace of God, go I.” Ironically, however, behind any notion of grace lies that old argument-starter – sovereignty in salvation.

Were it not for God’s prior sovereignty in shedding grace on us, our radically corrupted sin nature wouldn’t even reach a hand out to accept God’s gift, much less stumble around looking for it. And Paul was not concerned about being too “divisive” when he confronted Peter – in public, no less (Galatians 2). Peter’s acquiescence to a faction within the believing community (not an unfamiliar situation, to be fair) led to the appearance that he supported a view of the necessity of Gentile circumcision. Paul saw clearly that this was a direct challenge to salvation by grace (through faith).

Some who point to their belief in “salvation by grace through faith”, however, also reject debate about Calvinism, the doctrines of grace, or sovereignty in salvation, claiming that those are peripheral issues about which true Christians can disagree, and which are good for nothing but disrupting unity.

For the purposes of much-maligned argument, however, let’s suppose that the Calvinist believes that God’s sovereignty in salvation carries implications regarding the dichotomy between faith and works as the instrumental cause of salvation. Let us also suppose that the Calvinist believes that the less grace is operative in the process of salvation, the more works is operative (from the human perspective). That is, the more a man claims to have contributed to his salvation, the less room there is for that salvation to have been secured through grace (by God).

Let us further suppose that the Calvinist sincerely holds that the less a man believes that God is sovereign in salvation, the more that man must rely upon some other causal agent to secure his salvation. Since the Calvinist and anti-Calvinist alike would agree that Satan is not in the salvation-securing business, by process of elimination no one is left to procure salvation but man. And, ineluctably, if salvation is secured by human will, it is a false salvation. Those who proclaim it proclaim a false gospel.

One can see, then, that for that Calvinist sovereignty in salvation is not a peripheral issue, about which believers can disagree without consequence, but is instead crucial to salvation: is salvation of man, or is it of God? This is why reformed theology regarding salvation, Calvinism, TULIP, and sovereignty in salvation can all be referred to as “doctrines of grace.” For Paul, circumcision was not a peripheral issue about which culturally diverse believers in an era of transformational religious expectations could disagree. Instead it was a matter of preaching a false gospel. It was about believing a false gospel that could not save because it diminished grace and elevated law (works).

Calvinists might be wrong that God’s sovereignty in salvation presents such an issue. They might be wrong – frequently are – to lose sight of the purpose of accuracy regarding salvation and instead focus on winning arguments. But believing it, they would be heartless, indeed, if they did not attempt to persuade their brothers in Christ.

Is the Homeowners' Association more Neighborly than Church?

In my hopefully-soon-to-be-former profession, I frequently encounter people upset about restrictive covenants.

Restrictive covenants are sets of ‘agreements’ that homeowners in a particular subdivision or neighborhood abide by as a condition of owning a home there. Most of the restrictions are fairly simple, mostly common sense, and in south Alabama consist mainly of 1) promising not to put your car on blocks in the front yard, and 2) limiting yourself to 3 chickens, 2 goats or some combination thereof but not exceeding a total of 4 non-pet livestock (I can say this – in jest – because I have, at one time or another: had a car on blocks (in the back yard), raised chickens and rabbits, and grown a row garden complete with scarecrows, all only a few blocks from downtown).

People get very exercised about restrictive covenants, whether their apoplexy manifests in bristling at being told they must put white lights on a leafless tree at Christmas, or bristling that their neighbor two streets over did not put white lights on such a tree. We spend inordinate amounts of time and emotional energy stressing about whether the homeowner’s association – charged with enforcing the restrictive covenants – may, in fact, tell one of the members that his choice of landscape plants makes his house resemble a sunflower farm, and whether it should incorporate and purchase liability insurance to protect the ones unfortunate enough to tell a neighbor that his live-in RV, parked on the back patio and hooked in to the neighborhood sewer system, must go.

By significant contrast, it is virtually impossible in most congregations of Christian churches for members to become exercised about anything. Well, almost. But the things over which most congregations get exercised don’t quite seem righteous: someone sat in the wrong pew; preacher drives the wrong make of car; moderator has an “agenda”; teacher doesn’t use the right curriculum; pool hall across the street wants a liquor license.

The Bible has its own set of “restrictive covenants” for those who are truly neighbors, not merely in the geographical sense, but in the spiritual sense; those who have covenanted with each other to live kingdom lives under mutual submission to each other and to God through Christ. These covenants don’t tell us how many pets we can have, how many cars we can drive, or what sorts of decorations are approved. They do tell us that we are part of one another: rebuke one another, exhort one another, encourage one another, reprove one another. And we are not expected to act a certain way so that our property values will remain high, but so that the witness of Christ will remain pure, the glory of God remain unblemished, so that we may “present every man complete in Christ” (Colossians 1:28-29).

If we were as concerned to “present ourselves approved to God” – a “living and holy sacrifice” – as we are to ensure our hedges are trimmed, sidewalks are edged, and appraisals are high, we might see dramatic changes in the proclamation of the word we claim, in the sanctification of the neighbors we love, and in the glorification of the God we serve.

The Spiritual Gift of Audio/Visual Operation

In some early Bible manuscripts, the lists of spiritual gifts appearing in Romans 12, Ephesians 4, and 1 Corinthians 12 contain a little-known and anachronistic gift: audio/visual operation. Paul's admonition to "desire the higher gifts" was a challenge to excel at running the sound system.

Each of us has probably been in a service, prayer meeting, Bible study or conference in which one technological marvel or another aided in the presentation. Perhaps the sound guy overcame a mic that was feeding back. Or maybe the website engineer created a thrilling looped video feed. Maybe the techical coordinator devised an especially inspiring PowerPoint presentation. Someone might have pointed out to the congregation how the video, sound or slide show was an excellent addition to the program, thanking the one who provided it, and thanking God for providing the church such skilled and talented people.

I certainly enjoy what I call the "geek gifts" -- those things God has blessed us with that make life a bit easier. I do own an iPod, after all. I even allow that those things are not inappropriate for corporate worship. ("Not inappropriate" -- how's that for obfuscation?)

But why don't we hear thanks for those gifts God has truly given? Why aren't we thankful that someone with the gift of discernment pointed out the problem with a particular ministry proposal, so that the church avoided error? Why aren't we thankful that someone with the gift of teaching guided the congregation through a particularly thorny doctrinal issue? Why aren't we thankful that someone with the gift of leadership demonstrated the way to more faithful biblical living? Why aren't we more thankful that someone with the gift of mercy showed mercy to the downtrodden or suffering, in the name of Christ?

We talk of the Spirit operating externally to man, pulling the strings of circumstances to accomplish God's purposes. But in doing so we neglect the teaching that the Spirit's primary method of ministry is indwelling men, reforming hearts, changing wills. One specific way he accomplishes this is through the gifts he bestows on believers.

How spritually impoverished we are, then, when the only "gift" for which we thank God is someone's skill in running the sound board. Instead, we should recognize the Spirit working through men, and through the gifts he bestows, for the edification of the body. We should celebrate the Spirit accomplishing the purpose of God, protecting us from error or harm, shepherding the flock, alleviating suffering -- and all (mostly) through the gifts he gives to men.