The Christ-Centeredness of C. H. Spurgeon

One of my heroes is Charles Haddon Spurgeon, the famous Baptist pastor of nineteenth century London. In reading Spurgeon, I am convinced that one of the secrets behind the extraordinary fruitfulness of his ministry and the enduring legacy of his sermons was his relentless focus on the person and work of Christ.


Spurgeon’s Christ-centered focus is evident in the first words he spoke in the Metropolitan Tabernacle, which was built to accommodate the multitudes of people who came to hear him preach. Setting the tone of the thirty years of ministry which would follow, he said:


“I would propose that the subject of the ministry in this house, as long as this platform shall stand, shall be the Person of Jesus Christ. I am never ashamed to avow myself a Calvinist. I do not hesitate to take the name of Baptist. But if I am asked what is my creed, I reply, ‘It is Jesus Christ.’”[1]


Christ-Centered Preaching and Teaching

Spurgeon was Christ-centered in his preaching and taught his students to be the same.

“From every town, village, and little hamlet in England, wherever it may be, there is a road to London… and so from every text in Scripture there is a road to the metropolis of the Scriptures, that is Christ. Your business is, when you get to a text, to say, ‘Now, what is the road to Christ?’ and then preach a sermon, running along the road towards the great metropolis—Christ.”[2]


Spurgeon did occasionally err in his exegesis, seeing allegories to Christ where better hermeneutics would take the reader to Jesus by a different (and perhaps more lengthy) route. But the aim of his counsel is certainly correct. He certainly felt that his preaching was in sync with the words of the Apostle Paul who determined to know nothing but Christ and him crucified (1 Cor. 2:2) and boasted in nothing except the cross of Christ (Gal. 6:14). As Spurgeon said of Paul,

“Paul’s harp had only one string, but he brought such music out of it as never came from any other. He found such infinite variety in Christ that he never exhausted his theme; with him, it was Christ first, Christ last, Christ midst, Christ everywhere; so he could never have his pen in his hand without writing something in praise of his glorious Lord and Savior.”[3]

Christ-Centered and Spirit-Blessed

Furthermore, Spurgeon felt that his emphasis on Christ would be blessed by the Holy Spirit who is given to the church to glorify Christ (John 16:14). In fact, he believed the lack of anointing in preaching was due to a lack of Christ-centeredness. He once said,


“Where there is nothing of Christ, brethren, there is nothing of unction, nothing of savour. . . . Leave Christ out of your preaching, and you have taken milk from the children, you have taken the strong meat from the men. But if your object as a teacher or preacher is to glorify Christ and to lead men to love him and trust him, that is the very work on which the heart of God himself is set. The Lord and you are pulling together, and God the Holy Ghost can set his seal to a work like that.”[4]


Christ-Centered Theology 

It is a well-known and indisputable fact that Spurgeon was Calvinistic in his theology. But this never lessened his passion for Christ and never produced indolence in evangelism. He rather saw the doctrines of grace as important only in their relation to Christ. He said:


“What is doctrine after all but the throne whereon Christ sitteth, and when the throne is vacant what is the throne to us? Doctrines are the shovel and tongs of the altar, while Christ is the sacrifice smoking thereon. Doctrines are Christ’s garments; verily they smell of myrrh, and cassia, and aloes out of the ivory palaces, whereby they make us glad, but it is not the garments we care for as much as the person, the very person of our Lord Jesus Christ.”[5]


This emphasis, however, did not lead Spurgeon away from doctrinal teaching. It simply kept doctrine subservient to Christ, as the following passage reveals:

“If I preach Christ I must preach him as the covenant head of his people, and how far am I then from the doctrine of election? If I preach Christ I must preach the efficacy of his blood, and how far am I removed then from the great doctrine of an effectual atonement? If I preach Christ I must preach the love of his heart, and how can I deny the final perseverance of the saints? If I preach the Lord Jesus as the great Head and King, how far am I removed from divine Sovereignty? Must I not, if I preach Christ personally, preach his doctrines? I believe they are nothing but the natural outgrowth of that great root thought, or root substance rather, the person of the Lord Jesus Christ. He who will preach Christ fully will never lax in doctrine.”[6]


Christ-Centered Evangelism

Spurgeon’s Christ-centeredness also impacted the way he evangelized and taught people to seek salvation.


“Remember, sinner, it is not thy hold of Christ that saves thee – it is Christ; it is not thy joy in Christ that saves thee – it is Christ; it is not even faith in Christ, though that is the instrument – it is Christ’s blood and merits; therefore, look not to thy hope, but to Christ, the source of thy hope; look not to thy faith, but to Christ, the author and finisher of thy faith; and if thou doest that, ten thousand devils cannot throw thee down . . . . Let me beseech thee, look only to Christ; never expect deliverance from self, from ministers, or from any means of any kind apart from Christ; keep thine eye simply on Him; let His death, His agonies, His intercession, be fresh upon thy mind; when thou wakest in the morning look for Him; when thou liest down at night look for Him.”[7]



The Roots of Christ-Centeredness: Love for Christ Himself

Spurgeon’s Christ-centeredness sprung from a deep and personal relationship with the Lord. He loved Christ deeply and passionately and his sermons are filled with rapturous exaltation of Christ. He eloquently said,


“If you leave out Christ, you have left the sun out of the day, and the moon out of the night, you have left the waters out of the sea, and the floods out of the river, you have left the harvest out of the year, the soul out of the body, you have left joy out of heaven, you robbed all of it's all. There is no gospel worth thinking of, much less worth proclaiming, if Jesus be forgotten. We must have Jesus as Alpha and Omega in all our ministries.”[8]


Perhaps Spurgeon never put it more succinctly than when he said, “If you take Christ out of Christianity, Christianity is dead.”[9]


Christ-Centered to the End

Near the end of his ministry, Spurgeon said,


“If I had only one more sermon to preach before I died, it would be about my Lord Jesus Christ. And I think that when we get to the end of our ministry, one of our regrets will be that we did not preach more of him. I am sure no minister will ever repent of having preached him too much.”[10]


Notes

[1] C. H. Spurgeon, in a sermon entitled “The First Sermon in the Tabernacle” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 7 (Pasadena: Pilgrim Publications, 1977 reprint) p. 169.

[2] C. H. Spurgeon, in a sermon entitled “Christ Precious to Believers” in The New Park Street Pulpit, vol. 5 (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1994 reprint).

[3] C. H. Spurgeon, in a sermon entitled “Great Forgiveness for Great Sin” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 49 (Pasadena: Pilgrim Publications, 1977 reprint), p. 613. I’m grateful to have discovered several of these quotations in an article by Mark Minnick entitled “First Partaker” available online at: http://www.f-b-f.org/WebMan/Article.asp?ID=4079&Count=true.

[4] C. H. Spurgeon, in a sermon entitled “A Great Sermon by the Greatest Preacher” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 41 (Pasadena: Pilgrim Publications, 1977 reprint) p. 187.

[5] C. H. Spurgeon, in a sermon entitled “The Love of Jesus, What It Is None but His Loved Ones Know” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 8 (Pasadena: Pilgrim Publications, 1977 reprint) p. 339. Quoted in Iain H. Murray, Spurgeon v. Hyper-calvinism: The Battle for Gospel Preaching (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1995), p. 122.

[6]C. H. Spurgeon, in a sermon entitled “The First Sermon in the Tabernacle” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 7 (Pasadena: Pilgrim Publications, 1977 reprint) p. 169. Quoted in Lewis Drummond, Spurgeon: Prince of Preachers (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 1992) p. 291.

[7] C. H. Spurgeon in a sermon entitled “The Comer’s Conflict with Satan” in The New Park Street Pulpit, vol. 1 (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1994 reprint).

[8] C. H. Spurgeon, in a sermon entitled “Alpha and Omega” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 9 (Pasadena: Pilgrim Publications, 1977 reprint) p. 720.

[9] C. H. Spurgeon, in a sermon entitled “Our Manifesto,” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 37 (Pasadena: Pilgrim Publications, 1977 reprint).

[10] C. H. Spurgeon, in a sermon entitled “An Exciting Inquiry” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 54 (Pasadena: Pilgrim Publications, 1977 reprint) p. 149.

John Owen's (Surprising) Counsel to Struggling, Doubting Believers

In his masterful exposition of Psalm 130, the seventeenth-century Puritan John Owen gave the church  one of the most comprehensive theological and pastoral treatments of forgiveness of sin and assurance ever written. This is one of my favorite of Owen's books and one that I return to over and again.

Near the end of his exposition, Owen includes a wonderfully encouraging chapter for saints struggling with sin. Having already presented an extensive exposition of the nature of gospel forgiveness, Owen is now turning to objections. And among the objections he addresses are those "arising from the consideration of [the soul's] present state and condition as to actual holiness, duties, and sins." (Owen, Works 6:600). Owen further explains:

"Souls complain, when in darkness and under temptations, that they cannot find that holiness, nor those fruits of it in themselves, which they suppose an interest in pardoning mercy will produce. Their hearts they find are weak, and their duties worthless. If they were weighed in the balance, they would all be found too light. In the best of them there is such a mixture of self, hypocrisy, unbelief, vain-glory, that they are even ashamed and confounded with the remembrance of them."  (Works, 6:600, emphasis Owen's)

I suppose any earnest and honest Christian has experienced this: doubts regarding the reality of God's forgiveness, struggles with assurance, that are rooted in the consciousness of one's struggles with sin and weakness in holiness.

How do you suppose Owen responds?

Keep in mind that this is the author of that hard-hitting trilogy on mortification, temptation, and indwelling sin (which are, incidentally, bound in the same volume). This is the Puritan about which the Scottish professor John Duncan said to his students, "Prepare for the knife!" What do you think Owen would say to you when you are doubting your salvation because of your low-levels of holiness and on your ongoing battles with sin?

You might be surprised.

Don't just sit there, do something 

Owen first reminds his readers to "take heed of heartless complaints when vigorous actings of grace are expected at our hands." This is a reference back to one his previous directions for those who are waiting on God for assurance. His point is to counter an unbelieving kind of spiritual passivity. Think of the person who just blew it with anger or lust again, and so is again doubting his or her salvation. "I must not be a Christian at all," they conclude. Clouds of guilt hang overhead. But instead of seeking God's face, the struggling sinner starts channel-surfing. No bible-reading, no prayer, no waiting on God. To this person, Owen would say,

"why lie you on your faces? why do you not rise and put yourselves to the utmost, giving all diligence to add one grace to another, until you find yourselves in a better frame?" 

In other words, don't be passive: rouse yourself and seek the Lord!

But that is not all Owen says, for he knows that there are sincere, seeking saints who yet struggle with great discouragement over their sins. And it is to such persons that he now turns.

Don't trust in your sanctification for justification 

The next thing he does is show us that our remaining sins remind us that we are not justified by our holiness, but by grace alone: "known holiness is apt to degenerate into self-righteousness," he writes. "What God gives us on the account of sanctification we are ready enough to reckon on the score of justification...We have so much of the Pharisee in us by nature that it is sometimes well that our good is hid from us. We are ready to take our corn and wine and bestow them on other lovers."

What I think Owen means by this is that sometimes when we are doing well, we start looking at our holiness as if it were the righteousness that commends us to God. We trust in our sanctification as the basis of our justification. And when we're in this state of mind, indwelling sin brings us back to our senses and reminds us that we are saved wholly by grace.

Owen continues,

"Were there not in our hearts a spiritually sensible principle of corruption, and in our duties a discernible mixture of self, it would be impossible we should walk so humbly as is required of them who hold communion with God in a covenant of grace and pardoning mercy. It is a good life which is attended with a faith of righteousness and a sense of corruption." (Works, 6:600, emphasis mine)

In other words, Owen is saying, be humbled and remember that you are saved by grace.

Struggling against indwelling sin is an evidence of grace 

A couple of paragraphs later, Owen reminds us that,

"Oftentimes holiness in the heart is more known by the opposition that is made there to it, than by its own prevalent working. The Spirit's operation is known by the flesh's opposition. We find a man's strength by the burdens he carries, and not the pace that he goes. 'O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?' is a better evidence of grace and holiness than 'God, I thank thee that I am not as other men.'" (Works, 6:601, emphasis Owen's)

The nuancing that follows shows that Owen is not veering into antinomianism here. He doesn't mean that we should continue in sin that grace may abound. He is speaking not to the profligate who has turned grace into a license for sin, but to the those who know the "close, adhering power of indwelling sin, tempting, seducing, soliciting, hindering, captivating, conceiving, [and] restlessly disquieting." Only those who pursue holiness and fight the good fight of faith have really experienced this intense assault of indwelling sin. But as Owen says, "He may have more grace than another who brings not forth so much fruit as the other, because he hath more opposition, more temptation..."

God accepts your imperfect duties because of Christ 

Perhaps the most surprising thing Owen says is this:

"Know that God despiseth not small things. He takes notice of the least breathings of our hearts after him when we ourselves can see nor perceive no such thing. He knows the mind of the Spirit in those workings which are never formed to that height that we can reflect upon them with our observation. Everything that is of him is noted in his book, though not in our ours . . . even whilst his people are sinning, he can find something in their hearts, words or ways, that pleaseth him; much more in their duties. He is a skillful refiner, that can find much gold in that ore where we see nothing but lead or clay. He remembers the duties which we forget, and forgets the sins which we remember..."  (Works, 6:602-603; emphasis of last sentence mine)

How can God do this? Only because of Christ. "Jesus Christ takes whatever is evil and unsavory out of [our duties], and makes them acceptable . . . God accepts a little, and Christ makes our little a great deal."

Grow in faith in order to grow in holiness  

His final response is to exhort us to faith in Christ for sanctification. Read carefully what he says:

"The reason why thou art no more holy is because thou has no more faith. If thou hast no holiness, it is because thou has not faith. Holiness is the purifying of the heart by faith, or our obedience unto the truth. And the reason why thou art no more in duty, is because thou art no more in believing. The reason why thy duties are weak and imperfect is, because faith is weak and imperfect. Hast thou no holiness? believe, that thou mayest have. Hast thou but a little, or that which is imperceptible? -- be steadfast in believing, that thou mayest abound in obedience." (Works, 6:603)

These excerpts demonstrate once more John Owen's wisdom and skill in the art of soul surgery. Owen is a surefooted guide on the narrow road of gospel holiness, avoiding both the precipice of legalism on the left and gulf of antinomianism on the right. When he counsels the doubting Christian who is discouraged by the presence of indwelling sin, Owen does not simply tell them (us) to quit sinning and work harder at being holy (the legalistic approach). But neither does he say holiness doesn't matter (the antinomian approach).

He instead shows us that our failures should cause us to slay self-righteousness and grasp tenaciously to God's grace and mercy in Christ. He reminds us that genuine struggle against indwelling sin is itself an evidence of God's grace in our lives. He points us to God's mercy in Christ, reminding us that God mercifully receives even the imperfect obedience of all those who are accepted in his Son. And he exhorts us to deeper faith in Christ himself, since faith is the root of holiness.

Conference Messages on Sanctification

Several months ago, I had the wonderful opportunity of speaking on the doctrine of sanctification for an annual conference at Reformed Baptist Church in Kalamazoo, Michigan. They have posted these talks and handouts online. Here are the links for anyone interested:

Session 1 - Sanctified by the Trinity

Session 2 - Sanctified in the Son

Session 3 - Sanctified in the World

Session 4 - Sanctified by the Gospel

Is the Christian Life about Running or Resting?

In 2009, Time magazine named “the new Calvinism” as one of the 10 ideas currently changing the world. The burgeoning movement brought several streams of conservative evangelicals together, ranging from Baptists to Presbyterians to Reformed Charismatics, best represented through organizations and conferences like Together for the Gospel and The Gospel Coalition. But in recent months an intramural debate within the movement made headlines when author, pastor, (and grandson of Billy Graham) Tullian Tchividjian, was asked to leave The Gospel Coalition.

The issues surrounding this rather public “break up” are complex, but at least part of the brouhaha concerns differing perspectives on sanctification. Some have accused Tchividjian of antinomianism [1] and denying the “third use of the law” [2] (charges he has repeatedly denied, most recently in an interview with Janet Mefford.)

Kevin DeYoung, one of Tullian’s main interlocutors, has compiled a list of agreements and possible disagreements between the two sides. These questions certainly deserve careful thought, as do the varied responses to the debate from voices as diverse as Rick Phillips, Mark Galli, and R. Scott Clark.

Without responding directly to Tullian, his accusers, or defenders, I think one possible way forward in this debate is to pay closer attention not just to the distinctions between law and gospel (as important as these are) but to the metaphors and word pictures the Scriptures use when describing the lives of believers. For ordinary believers, who can easily get lost in the complexities of theological jargon, the vivid imagery of the Bible itself is both refreshing and a wonderful means of keeping us balanced.

For example, Scripture describes our lives in terms of a journey and an athletic competition. We are commanded both to walk and to run. These are strongly active metaphors that emphasize the need for continuous movement and strenuous effort. But Scripture also uses agricultural metaphors like remaining in a vine and bearing fruit (John 15). In Galatians 5:19-23, Paul seems to deliberately contrast the fruit of the Spirit with the works of the flesh, reminding us that developing the Christian virtues of love, joy, peace, etc. isn’t merely a matter of self-effort and will power, but of supernatural empowerment.

But there’s more. In addition to the athletic and agricultural images, biblical writers employ metaphors from the realms of architecture (foundation, stones, buildings, edification), medicine (sin as a sickness, Christ as physician, his word as both a surgical knife and healing remedy), the military(soldiers, battles, discipline, armor), and more. We are encouraged to both labor (1 Thessalonians 1:3) and rest (Matthew 11:28-30), trust (Romans 15:13) and obey (Philippians 2:12-13), look out for others (Hebrews 10:24-25) and examine ourselves (2 Corinthians 13:5), keep ourselves (Jude 21) and depend on the power of God to keep us (Jude 24).

These pictures are rich and diverse and we need all of them. If we take any one image by itself, we run the risk of becoming lopsided in our focus. For example, if we only emphasize the architectural and “body” metaphors in 1 Corinthians, people might be inclined to think the corporate dimensions of Christian living are more important than individual and personal responsibilities. An exclusive focus on resting in Jesus could lead others to infer that any call to effort or discipline is legalistic. On the other hand, the military and athletic imagery in Scripture, calling us to fight the good fight of faith (1 Timothy 6:12) and run with endurance the race set before us (Hebrews 12:1-2), needs the balancing word-picture of abiding in Jesus, the true vine, apart from whom we can do nothing (John 15:5).

The Christian life, you see, is not dependence to the exclusion of discipline, or vice-versa. It’s both. It’s not just a me-thing or a we-thing. It’s both. It’s running and resting. Believing and obeying. Together and as individuals.

I believe that folks on all sides of the current sanctification debate desire to honor God and his word, rest in the good news of Christ’s finished work, and grow in grace. We all need to pay close attention to the text of Scripture and be careful to avoid rhetoric that is either theologically misleading or disparaging to others. Disagreements will likely continue. But whatever side of the debate we find ourselves on, let’s not forget that the Christian life involves both resting in Christ and his finished workand running with everything we’ve got for the prize set before us.

This post was originally written for Christianity.com. For more on this issue, see my latest book, Active Spirituality: Grace and Effort in the Christian Life. 

Notes

1. “Antinomianism so stresses Christian freedom from the condemnation of the law that it underemphasizes the need of the believer to confess sins daily and to pursue sanctification earnestly.” S. B. Ferguson, J. I. Packer, ed., New Dictionary of Theology (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2000), p. 379.

2. In Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin distinguished three uses of the law: (1) to condemn sin (Inst. 2.7.6-9), (2) to restrain sin in society (Inst. 2.7.10-11), and (3) to instruct, in Calvin’s words, “the third and principle use” (Inst. 2.7.12-13).

Three Critical Truths about Redemption

“Redemption” is a rich word and perhaps somewhat unique among the great gospel words in our theological vocabulary, in that it’s a word that easily resonates with unbelievers. Some of our favorite stories, songs, and films are built around the themes of redemption. George Lucas, for example once said that the original Star Wars films were about the redemption of Anakin Skywalker. One of Johnny Cash’s greatest songs is titled “Redemption.”[1] Or, if you want an example a bit more highbrow, look no further than the character of Jean Valjean in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables.

None of this suggests, of course, that redemption in our cultural artifacts bears a one-to-one relationship to redemption in Christianity. There are very important biblical features of redemption through the Lord Jesus Christ that set it apart from all other redemption stories. But the widespread use of the word in our culture does indicate an innate recognition of the human need for forgiveness and hope.

Christians often use the word “redemption” in a broad sense, as a synonym for salvation. Think of phrases like “the history of redemption” or the four big events in the Christian metanarrative: creation, fall, redemption, restoration. But in the New Testament, “redemption” (apolutrosis) and the related words, redeem (lutrow), and ransom (lutron) -- each belonging to the lutro word group in Greek -- carry connotations that are both richer and more precise.[2] For at its root, to redeem means to set someone free from slavery through the payment of a ransom.

In the words of John Murray,

“The idea of redemption must not be reduced to the general notion of deliverance. The language of redemption is the language of purchase and more specifically of ransom. And ransom is the securing of release by the payment of a price.”[3]

A full unfolding of the doctrine of redemption would show:

• Our need for redemption (because of our bondage to the law, sin, and death);
• God’s provision of redemption (through his eternal covenant and the gift of his Son);
• Christ’s accomplishment of redemption (by his obedient life, his payment of a blood ransom in his sin-atoning death, and his victorious resurrection);
• Along with all the fruits of redemption (including the forgiveness of sins, the gift of adoption, our inheritance as heirs of God and coheirs with Christ, the future resurrection of the body, and more).

But this isn’t a theology textbook and many good theologians have already done this work. (The above referenced work by John Murray, Redemption: Accomplished and Applied, is a good place to start.)

Instead, I want to suggest three ways Scripture links redemption to our lives: with a story, a meal, and a forward-looking hope. My hope is that meditating in this way will foster not just deeper understanding of the doctrine of redemption itself, but especially richer worship of the Redeemer.

1. A story

Redemption, in the Scriptures, doesn’t start with Jesus dying on the cross for our sins, as glorious and climatic moment as this is. Even in the New Testament, redemption was closely linked to another story deep in the memory of God’s people. Just think about the features of redemption we’ve already seen: bondage in slavery, liberation and freedom, the payment of a blood ransom, inheritance, etc.[4]

You don’t have to think long before remembering the story of Israel’s exodus from Egypt, that great paradigmatic saving event of the Old Testament. God’s people were enslaved in a land of darkness, but in faithfulness to his covenant, God stretched out his mighty hand and rescued his people, providing a covering for their sins, so he could pass over them while executing judgment on their oppressors, and finally give them an inheritance in the land of promise.

This story ran so deep in the consciousness of God’s people that the prophets returned to it again and again. This is especially obvious in Isaiah 40-55, as the prophet evokes all kinds of exodus imagery while calling Israel to fresh faith in the Lord their Redeemer who will lead them out of exile. And those very themes (and texts) get picked up again in the gospel narratives, as the evangelists skillfully present the story of Jesus in terms of a New Exodus, in which Jesus will pay Israel’s ransom through his own death.[5]

2. A meal

A second way Scripture links the doctrine of redemption to our lives is with a meal, the meal given to us by Jesus himself on the day before his crucifixion. This connection is slightly more round about than the one above, but there all the same, especially when we remember that the Christian celebration of the Lord’s Supper is itself an outgrowth of the Jewish celebration of Passover.

But you also can see the connection when you compare Jesus’ words of institution in that last Passover meal with his disciples with a previous statement he made about the purpose for which he came.

“…the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:28)

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)

The similar structure in the two passages is striking. Jesus came to serve and give his life as a ransom for many. And then when Jesus serves his disciples the Passover meal, he says that the wine is his blood, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.

And lest there be any doubt in our mind, Paul makes the connection explicit, reminding us that “Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed” (1 Corinthians 5:7). And this means that every time we sit at this sacred feast we do so in celebration of the true Passover, the new exodus, the full and final redemption that Jesus has purchased for us by death. 

3. A forward-looking hope

But when we come to the table of the Lord, we not only look back, we look forward. When we remember the redemption story, we are to think not only of Israel’s redemption out of Egypt, and its fulfillment in the atoning work of Jesus. We also set our eyes on the future, as we wait with confident and expectant hope for the consummation of redemption.

In Romans 8, Paul reminds us that we join the created order itself, in our waiting:

For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. (Romans 8:22-25)

And what is it we wait for? The redemption of our bodies. And how do we know it will happen? Because we’ve already received the first down payment, “the firstfruits of the Spirit.” (That’s surely one reason why Paul reminds us not to grieve the Spirit who has sealed us “for the day of redemption” in Ephesians 4:30).

And the presence of the Spirit in our hearts, prompting us to cry “Abba, Father,” assures us that we will one day join the heavenly chorus in the everlasting joy of extoling the Lamb who has ransomed us by his blood. May we, even now, join the worshipers around the throne and sing:

   “Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals,

   for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God

   from every tribe and language and people and nation,

   and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God,

   and they shall reign on the earth.” (Revelation 5:9-10)

This post was written as part of a larger series on the Gospel for Servants of Grace. 

Notes

---

[1] Cash, of course, was a believer and the song shows it. But his music is so mainstream that I thought it worth mentioning among these cultural references to redemption.

[2] See especially B. B. Warfield, “The New Testament Terminology of ‘Redemption’ in The Works of Benjamin B. Warfield, vol. 2 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1932; reprint Grand Rapids: Baker Book House Company, 2000), pp. 327-372.

[3] John Murray, Redemption: Accomplished and Applied (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1955), p. 42.

[4] Of course, the Old Testament concept of the kinsman-redeemer, best known from the book of Ruth, also shapes our understanding of redemption.

[5] See especially Rikki E. Watts, Isaiah’s New Exodus in Mark (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2000).

Gospel Repentance

Let’s play a word association game.

What comes into your mind when you see or hear the word “repent”?

You might think of a street preacher wearing sandwich sign blazoned with “Turn or Burn.”

Perhaps you think of hell. Maybe the familiar illustrations of doing a U-turn or an about-face come to mind.

While any of these associations are understandable, none of them quite hit the biblical mark. If the only thing we think about when it comes to repentance is escaping hell or changing our ways, we’re still missing the most important part of repentance.

We’re still missing Jesus.

For repentance is not merely turning from sin. Repentance is also turning to the crucified and risen Savior. And if we miss this, we will fall into the “worldly grief” that “produces death,” that Paul describes 2 Corinthians 7:10.

There is a kind of sadness over sin that doesn’t lead to Jesus, doesn’t produce joy, and doesn’t end in life. But that kind of grief over sin is not genuine gospel repentance.

Theologians from an older generation distinguished between legal repentance and evangelical repentance. By legal repentance they meant a kind of repentance that had its eye on the law and its condemnation. But this is sharply different from evangelical, or gospel, repentance. Gospel repentance fixes its gazes less on broken laws and threatened judgments and more on the weeping, wounded, sin-bearing Savior.

Calvin said that in evangelical repentance, “the sinner, though grievously downcast in himself, yet looks up and sees in Christ the cure of his wound, the solace of his terror; the haven of rest from his misery.”^[1]

St. Bernard’s old hymn beautifully captures the ethos of gospel repentance:

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners’ gain;

Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.


Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ’Tis I deserve Thy place;


Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,


For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?


O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,


Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.[2]

Gospel repentance, you see, is the reflex of our hearts when, captivated by the dying love of Jesus, we throw ourselves whole-heartedly into the embrace of his mercy and grace.

Gospel repentance is Peter back on the boat following the week of Jesus’ passion, toiling again with the old nets. But, suddenly aware that Jesus stands on Galilee’s shore waiting for him, he jumps head first into the water and swims with all his might for land.

Gospel repentance is the prodigal son with the smell of pigs lingering on his clothes and the taste of husks still in his mouth, astonished at the joyous indignity of his father running to meet him and squelching his well-rehearsed confession with kisses, tears, and a bear hug.

I wonder if the negative associations we make with the word repentance are because we too often think of repentance in terms of escaping the consequences of sin, and too seldom in terms of returning to the outstretched arms of our welcoming Father in heaven?

Yes, there is certainly a place for self-examination. We should all pray with the Psalmist,    

Search me, O God, and know my heart!

Try me and know my thoughts!

And see if there be any grievous way in me,

and lead me in the way everlasting!^[3]

But introspection also has its hazards. We should especially beware of so fixating on our sins that we lose sight of the Savior himself.[4]

This post was originally written for Gospel Connections, the blog of Tim Merwin. Be sure to check it out. 

Notes

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^[1] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion (III.3.4). Translated by Henry Beveridge. Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software.

[2] “O Sacred Head Now Wounded,” Attributed to Bernard of Clairvaux, 1153 (Salve caput cruentatum); translated from Latin to German by Paul Gerhardt, 1656 (O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden), and from Latin to English James W. Alexander, 1830.

^[3] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. 2001 (Ps 139:23–24). Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.

[4] For more on gospel repentance, see the helpful Tim Keller’s helpful essay, “All of Life is Repentance,” (http://download.redeemer.com/pdf/learn/resources/All_of_Life_Is_Repentance-Keller.pdf.) and “Don’t Seek Repentance or Faith as Such; Seek Christ
“ in John C. Miller’s The Heart of a Servant Leader: Letters from Jack Miller (p. 244). (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2004) p. 244.

Martyn Lloyd-Jones on Self-examination and Justification by Faith Alone

Do you ever struggle with assurance of salvation, especially when examining yourself? Here are some wise words from D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones on the importance of grounding our self-examination in the doctrine of justification by faith alone.

I must never start upon this process of self-examination without reminding myself at the beginning, in the middle, and at the end of the cardinal doctrine of justification by faith only. I mean this. If I start upon the process of self-examination without reminding myself that I am justified by faith only, there can be but one result of my self-examination, and that is, that I shall feel that I am not a Christian at all. I shall feel utterly hopeless and shall be thrown into a state of morbidity. Now this, of course, is the danger that confronts us when we read certain well-known and famous manuals of devotion. Take the famous Imitation of Christ, by Thomas a Kempis, in many ways a very valuable book, and yet in many ways an extremely dangerous book, because it tends ultimately to teach justification by works. It tends ultimately to give the impression that we make ourselves Christian by what we do. And, I say, if we start with that idea, this self-examination can but drive us to despair. There is only one safe way of examining ourselves, and it is to start by reminding ourselves that we are saved solely by the grace of God in Jesus Christ, and that if we move heaven and earth, or ascend into the depths, we can never make ourselves righteous before God. Nothing can save you and me but the fact that Christ died on the cross for us - there is our salvation!

--D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Expository Sermons on 2 Peter, Banner of Truth, p. 244.

Communion with Christ in the Grace of Sanctification

In his magnificent masterpiece, Communion with the Triune God, John Owen discusses how believers have distinct communion with each member of the Trinity. 

Discussing “Communion with Christ in the Grace of Sanctification,” Owen shows the difference between people who are convicted of sin but pursue holiness in their own strength and believers who look to Christ for holiness: 

Convinced persons who know not Christ, nor the fellowship of his sufferings, would spin a holiness out of their own bowels; they would work it out in their own strength. They begin it with trying endeavors (Rom. 10:1–4); and follow it with vows, duties, resolutions, engagements, sweating at it all the day long. Thus they continue for a season—their hypocrisy, for the most part, ending in apostasy.

The saints of God do, in the very entrance of their walking with him, reckon upon it that they have a threefold want:

            (1) of the Spirit of holiness to dwell in them;

            (2) of a habit of holiness to be infused into them;

            (3) of actual assistance to work all their works for them;

and that if these should continue to be wanting, they can never, with all their might, power, and endeavors perform any one act of holiness before the Lord.

They know that of themselves they have no sufficiency—that without Christ they can do nothing (John 15:5): therefore they look to him, who is entrusted with a fullness of all these in their behalf; and thereupon by faith derive from him an increase of that whereof they stand in need.

Thus, I say, have the saints communion with Christ, as to their sanctification and holiness.

From him do they receive the Spirit to dwell in them;

from him the new principle of life, which is the root of all their
obedience;

from him have they actual assistance for every duty they are called unto.

In waiting for, expectation, and receiving of these blessings, on the accounts before mentioned, do they spend their lives and time with him. In vain is help looked for from other mountains; in vain do men spend their strength in following after righteousness, if this be wanting.

Fix your soul here; you shall not tarry until you be ashamed.

This is the way, the only way,

to obtain full, effectual manifestations of the Spirit’s dwelling in us;

to have our hearts purified,

our consciences purged,

our sins mortified,

our graces increased,

our souls made humble, holy, zealous, believing—like to him;

to have our lives fruitful, our deaths comfortable.

Let us herein abide, eyeing Christ by faith, to attain that measure of conformity to him which is allotted unto us in this world, that when we shall see him as he is, we may be like unto him.

--John Owen, Communion with the Triune God, edited Kelly M. Kapic and Justin Taylor, Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2007, p. 333. (Emphasis and breakdown into paragraphs mine.)