Showing posts with label Sanctification. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sanctification. Show all posts

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

7 Errors to Avoid in Following Christ

What you believe makes a big difference in your Christian life. Even if the categories of formal theology seem remote and unfamiliar, you have a theology. Everything you think about God, Jesus, law, sin, salvation, holiness, the Spirit, the church, human nature, life, death, and eternity is theological. We are all theologians. The real question is whether or not our theologies are true to Scripture.
One of the most important areas of theology is sanctification: the doctrine that concerns our consecration to God, the restoration and renewal of God’s image within us, and our practical progress in holiness. I’ve seen a number of common errors that Christians make in this area. In fact, here are seven errors to avoid in following Christ.
1.     Looking to your sanctification for your justification 
Justification and sanctification are related, but not to be confused. Justification concerns our legal status before God. Scripture teaches that we are justified by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone. If you believe in Jesus, your sins are pardoned and God already accepts you as righteous – even though you still struggle with sin.
And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness… (Rom. 4:5)
God justifies the ungodly! Full forgiveness is freely given through faith in Jesus crucified and risen alone. The verdict is in: “not guilty.”
There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. (Rom. 8:1)
Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies.       Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. (Rom. 8:33-34)
Don’t measure your acceptance with God by your progress in holiness or apparent lack thereof. Sanctification depends on justification, not the other way around.
2.     Adding rules to Scripture
Make no mistake: there are commands in Scripture and we must obey them. Even Christians, who are freed the law (Acts 13:39Rom. 7:48:2Gal. 5:1-13), are commanded to walk in love, work out their own salvation, bring holiness to completion in the fear of God, and more (Eph. 5:2Philip. 2:122 Cor. 7:1). While obeying God’s commands does not justify us, obedience is an essential part of sanctification.
But sometimes people require more than God requires. When Paul warned of those who would forbid marriage and require abstinence from certain foods, he said it was demonic (1 Tim. 4:1-3). That’s pretty strong language! But it underscores the absolute sufficiency of God’s word for training us in righteousness (2 Tim. 3:16).
If the Bible doesn’t forbid it or require it, neither should you. Doing so won’t help you or others become holy. It will only undermine confidence in Scripture. Beware of adding rules to the Bible.
3.     Focusing on behavior to the neglect of the heart 
Behavior is important. But our words and deeds always flow from the heart.
For no good tree bears bad fruit, nor again does a bad tree bear good fruit, for each tree is known by its own fruit. For figs are not gathered from thornbushes, nor are grapes picked from a bramble bush. The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks. (Luke 6:43-45)
If you want to change the fruit, you have to change the root. This doesn’t mean we either can or should neglect behavioral issues until we feel different. You should do what God says, even when you don’t feel like it. But if you don’t go after the underlying motives, passions, and desires that drive your sinful behavior, your efforts to change will be short lived and superficial.
And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.(Gal. 5:24)
4.     Thinking you can go it alone 
One of the most overlooked facts about the New Testament letters is that almost all of them were written to churches. Even Paul’s letters to Timothy and Titus were written with a church context in mind. This means that most of the exhortations and commands given in these letters are given to churches, not individuals.
It was John Wesley who said, “The Bible knows nothing of solitary religion.” But when it comes to holiness, too many of us try to go it alone. It won’t work. You need the church. You need the church because you need the means of grace: the preached word, prayer, and the sacraments. And you need the church because you need other people. Even the Lone Ranger needed Tonto. Holy living is a community project. 
5.     Neglecting the ministry of the Holy Spirit 
Sanctification is part of the Spirit’s ministry (1 Pet. 1:22 Thess. 2:13). The Spirit is the one who fills us (Eph. 5:18), strengthens us (Eph. 3:16), and reproduces the character of Christ in us (Gal. 5:22-23). And while the Spirit indwells the heart of every believer (Rom. 8:9), we are responsible to “keep in step with the Spirit” (Gal. 5:25) and to put sin to death in his strength (Rom. 8:13).
Neglecting the Spirit’s ministry is a sure recipe for stunted spiritual growth. We therefore need to cultivate continuous, conscious dependence on the Spirit. And Paul’s writings indicate that the primary ways we do this are through the word and prayer (study, for example, the parallels between Colossians 3:16 and Ephesians 5:18-20, and Paul’s many references to the Spirit in his prayers).
6.     Failing to put effort into the pursuit of holiness  
Sometimes an emphasis on the Spirit has led believers to spiritual passivity – the old “let go and let God” approach. But the biblical path leads in the opposite direction: the greater our dependence on the Spirit, the more active we become. Dependence on the Spirit is fully compatible with fighting the good fight of faith (1 Tim. 6:12) and running the race set before us (Heb 12:1). Effort is an essential ingredient in spiritual growth (2 Pet. 1:5-10).
7.     Forgetting the reality of your union with Christ
But we must never forget the reality of the new identity we already have through union with Christ. In fact, in Paul’s fullest teaching on the Christian life, this is always how he starts. We see this pattern in Romans 6 where he argues that continuing to live in sin is deeply incongruous for those who are already dead to sin through their faith union in the death of Christ.  This is also the focus of Colossians 3, where all Paul’s commands (imperatives) rest on the realities (indicatives) that we are already dead, raised, and hidden with Christ.  Or consider Ephesians 4:17-32, where Paul admonishes us to holy living, because we’ve already put off the old man and put on the new, in learning Christ. As Paul says in another familiar verse:
I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Gal. 2:20)
This post was originally written for Christianity.com

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 PhillipsMark 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.comFor 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).

What Does it Mean to Abide in Christ?

One of Jesus’ most vivid and powerful illustrations for the believer’s relationship with him is the vine and branches. Just as branches can only bear fruit if they abide in the vine, so the only way believers can glorify the Father through fruitful lives is by abiding in Jesus. The teaching is found in John 15, where Jesus prepares his disciples for his imminent death and departure, by instructing them about their calling and mission as his disciples, and emphasizing their absolute dependence on him. As Jesus says in verse 5,
I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.
Unpacking the metaphor
This picture is a rich metaphor that needs unpacking. The vine is Jesus, while we (believers, disciples) are the branches. The Father, Jesus says, is the vinedresser (v. 1) – that is the gardener who tends the branches. He prunes the fruitful branches so they will bear more fruit (v. 2), and takes away the unfruitful branches, throwing them into the fire (v. 26). The unfruitful branches appear to be nominal disciples: people who outwardly follow Jesus for a time, but fail to bear fruit.  Think, for example, of Judas Iscariot. The fruit we are called to bear probably includes both the fruit of transformed character (similar to “the fruit of the Spirit” in Galatians 5:22-23) and fruitfulness in evangelism as we bear witness to Jesus and his work.
What does it mean to abide?
That much seems to be clear. But what does it mean for us to abide in Jesus as branches in the vine?  I believe three things are implied: connection, dependence, and continuance. Don’t think of these as three successive steps, but as three interwoven aspects of abiding.   
1. Connection
Abiding in Jesus first of all means having a life-giving connection to him. A branch is connected to the vine, and a vine to the branch. This is what theologians frequently describe as “union with Christ.” Notice that this connection, this union, is mutual. We abide in him and he abides in us (v. 4). If there is no connection, there is no life, no fruit.
2. Dependence
But abiding also implies dependence. This aspect of abiding, unlike connection, is not reciprocal. The branch is dependent on the vine, but the vine is not dependent on the branch. The branch derives its life and power from the vine. Without the vine, the branch is useless, lifeless, powerless. Sap flows from the vine to the branch, supplying it with water, minerals, and nutrients that make it grow. And believers receive the “sap” of Christ’s grace through our life-giving connection to him. We are completely dependent upon Jesus for everything that counts as spiritual fruit (v. 4). Apart from him, we can do nothing (v. 5).
3. Continuance
Abiding also involves continuance. In fact, “abide” (Greek, meno) means to remain, or stay, or continue. For example, in John 1:38-39, two of the disciples who first encountered Jesus asked him “Where are you staying?” They wanted to know where Jesus made his residence. The word “staying” is the same word translated “abide” in John 15. To abide is to reside. To abide is to continue, to stay, to remain.
This shows us that another aspect of abiding in Jesus is remaining in Jesus. This simply means that we go on trusting, that we keep on depending, that we never stop believing. To abide in Jesus is to persevere in Jesus and his teaching. This is what Jesus is talking about in John 8:31-32, when he says, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
In summary, to abide in the vine means to be united to Jesus (connection), to rely on Jesus (dependence), and to remain in Jesus (continuance).
Who is this for?
That leads to another question: who is this for?
In one sense, Jesus description of abiding seems to be an all or nothing deal. If someone abides in him, his love, and his word, this proves that they are his disciples. To not abide in him (and his love and word) is to show that one is not a disciple at all. So, to be a believer is to abide.
But on the other hand, “abide” is a command (v. 4). Jesus tells us to abide in him and to abide in his love (v. 9). It’s something we have to do. So, is abiding in Jesus something that is true of all believers?
There are certain streams of Christian teaching that have made this unnecessarily complicated. They have suggested that abiding in Christ is something additional, something special, that we gain through a crisis experience that ushers into a higher, deeper, or victorious life, sometimes even called the “abiding” life. And it is then suggested that Christians can be broken down into two groups: the “haves” and “have not’s.” The ordinary Christians who believe in Jesus but don’t abide and the extraordinary Christians who believe and also abide.
But I think it’s simpler and closer to the text to say that abiding, like faith itself, is a reality true of all Christians but also an experience that we grow into by degrees. It’s not that some Christians abide and some don’t. If you believe in Jesus, you are in him. You are united to him. You are connected to the life-giving branch. But no matter where you are on your spiritual journey, you can experience the reality of this connection to Jesus more and more.
You can become more fruitful. There are degrees of fruitfulness. The passage not only speaks of bearing fruit, but of bearing “more fruit” (v. 2) and “much fruit” (v. 8).
You can enjoy Jesus more. That’s why Jesus says, “These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full” (v. 11). He not only wants us to have joy, he wants us to have full joy.  
And you can be more like Jesus. You can experience the sweetness, power, and joy of your connection to him in greater degrees, as you grow in ongoing daily dependence on him. In theological terms, all believers have union with Christ, but all believers can also know communion with him in greater (or lesser) degrees.
How do you abide?
That leads to a final question: how do you abide? If abiding in Jesus involves ongoing daily dependence on him, what does that look like? Jesus himself tells us. We abide in Jesus by letting his words abide in us (v. 7) and by abiding in his love (v. 9-10).
To put it simply, abiding in Jesus doesn’t require advancing beyond the gospel to something else. It doesn’t demand a crisis decision or a mystical experience. It just means keeping the words of Jesus in our hearts and minds, so that they are renewing and reviving us, shaping and sanctifying us, filling and forming us. And it means keeping ourselves in his infinite, enduring, sin-bearing, heart-conquering, life-giving love.
This post was written for Christianity.com

Love and Spiritual Transformation


The most famous chapter in the Bible on love is 1 Corinthians 13. We often treat this chapter like a poem about love, printing it on greeting cards, reciting it at weddings, and placarding it on the walls of our homes. But this chapter is much more than a sentimental poem about warm fuzzies. In its original context, it is a heart-searching, gospel-drenched, portrait of Christianity in its highest ethical dimensions. It is a call to an immature and divisive congregation to prioritize the virtues of Christ over self-centeredness. It is a beacon shining the light of the eschaton into the darkness of this present age, showing us the more excellent way: the way of Christ, the way of love. As such, this chapter does nothing less than beckon us to a deep transformation of the heart – a radical reorientation towards Christ and the character he is forming within us.

The Formation of Character

In his thoughtful commentary on 1 Corinthians, Richard Hays observes that love “requires the formation of character.”
Love is not just a matter of feelings: feelings come and go, while love abides. Paul's description of the attributes of love [in 1 Corinthians 13] offers a picture of habitual actions and dispositions. One cannot merely decide in a day's time to start doing these things. They are learned patterns of behavior that must be cultivated over time in the context of a community that models and supports such behavior…the church should be a school for the cultivation of these habits and practices.[1] 

In other words, 1 Corinthians 13 isn’t just about doing loving deeds, but forming loving character. There are a couple reasons for thinking Hays is onto something here. 

First of all, Paul describes love in terms of its actions, using present tense verbs, which express “habitual as well as present actions.”[2] And habitual actions are indications of character. 

But secondly, Paul calls love “a still more excellent way” (1 Corinthians 12:31). The word “way” (hodos) denotes a road or path along which someone walked. Walking along a way was a euphemism for following a set of teachings or living according to particular code of ethics.

The Old Testament frequently spoke of walking in the ways of God (Deut. 8:6; Psa. 25:4; Psa. 11:1). And Jesus adopted the same image as he contrasted the easy way that leads to destruction with the hard way that leads to life (Matt. 7:13-14). In fact, this “way” language was so common, that the early Christians were known as followers of “the Way” (Acts 9:2; 19:9, 23; 22:4; 22:14, 22).

When we see Paul describe love as the more excellent way, it’s helpful to remember this background. It reminds us that we’re on a journey, walking towards a specific destination. And this journey involves many slow, plodding, repeated steps along the way. Our destiny is the eschaton, the last day, when we will enter into the full consummation of our salvation in the eternal kingdom of God, where his grace will restore our fallen world once and for all. But the journey there is gradual, requiring us to take lots of steps (walking) and stay on the appointed path (perseverance). And the road, the path, the way, along which we walk, is the way of love. 

How is Character Formed?

So how is this character formed? Last year I read N. T. Wright’s excellent book After You Believe. It’s all about the formation of Christian character. In fact, the subtitle of the book is “Why Christian Character Matters.” Wright helpfully summarizes how character transformation happens, saying:
Character is transformed by three things. First, you have to aim at the right goal. Second, you have to figure out the steps you need to take to get to that goal. Third, those steps have to become habitual, a matter of second nature.[3]
Then Wright gives some helpful illustrations. He says forming character is in many ways like learning a second language. That, of course, involves serious intention and really hard work. You have to learn vocabulary words. You have to go over it again and again. You slowly have to learn to speak the language, read it, and so on. And the goal is to get the place where you’re no longer translating in your head (this German/French word means this in English), but instead you’re actually able to think in the other language. It becomes second nature. 

Or think of learning to play a musical instrument. You of course have to learn the mechanics of the instrument, how it works and so on. You have to play scales or cords – a lot. You start with simple pieces and move on to more complex pieces over time. And you have to practice – a lot. Some research says that it takes about 10,000 hours to really develop competence in this kind of complex skill.

As Wright points out, both learning a second language and learning to play an instrument help us understand how the formation of character works. It takes time. It takes intentionality. It requires regular, repeated practice. You will make lots of mistakes along the way. But over time you develop fluency, competency.

And this is the way it is with love. With time, intention, and sustained effort, and in conscious reliance on the grace and power of the Holy Spirit, you learn the language, the music of love. 

Putting Love into Practice

Now, to be practical, this is how you might go about it. If you have a serious intention to follow Jesus in the way of love, consider doing the following exercise. Take 1 Corinthians 13 line by line and try to visualize what it would look for you to be this kind of person. “Love is patient, love is kind” – what would it look like for you to be patient and kind in you relationships? Think about your roommate, or siblings, or if you’re married, your spouse. Consider the members of your small group or church.

Ask the Holy Spirit to show you where this isn’t true in your life. Where are you failing to be patient and kind? Ask him to show you specific ways, times, and places when you’ve been impatient and unkind. Think specifically of the people with whom you have poor relationships: where there is conflict or difficulty or unhappiness? Where are you returning evil for evil? Is there anyone you need to forgive? Have you harbored hurt? Are you nurturing the slow-growing seeds of resentment? Have you been cruel to anyone? Are you withholding good from someone?

Then ask God for the grace to repent and change. Ask him for both the ongoing desire and sustained energy to behave in different ways. And then seriously commit yourself to acting in just those ways, and change will begin to happen.

As C. S. Lewis describes the process in a well-known passage from Mere Christianity:

Do not waste time bothering whether you ‘love’ your neighbour; act as if you did. As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him.... This same spiritual law works terribly in the opposite direction…. The more cruel you are, the more you will hate; and the more you hate, the more cruel you will become—and so on in a vicious circle for ever. Good and evil both increase at compound interest. That is why the little decisions you and I make every day are of such infinite importance. The smallest good act today is the capture of a strategic point from which, a few months later, you may be able to go on to victories you never dreamed of. An apparently trivial indulgence in lust or anger today is the loss of a ridge or railway line or bridgehead from which the enemy may launch an attack otherwise impossible.[4]

The Personification of Love

But finally, we must remember that the highest example, the greatest demonstration of love, is Jesus himself. In one of his sermons on 1 Corinthians 13, Tim Keller observes that Paul doesn’t just tell us to be patient and kind. Paul doesn’t really even command us to be loving people. In fact, “love” is the subject of the verbs. He is showing us what love looks like. “No, he says ‘Love must be…’ He personifies love.”[5] 

Don’t you see? 1 Corinthians 13 is a character description of Jesus. And we must see this, or trying to live by 1 Corinthians 13 will become just another law, as crushing as trying to earn salvation by keeping the Ten Commandments.

But if we read this passage and see in it the portrait of our Savior: the face of Love himself who was crucified for our lovelessness, the One whose resurrection ushers us into the power of age to come, and into whose image we are now being remade, then the passage functions not as a crushing burden to be borne, but as a warm and inviting light towards which we walk. As Keller says, “Before love is a behavior to a Christian, love is an experience. You have to meet love before you can ever do it.”[6]

Have you met Love?

No one described this encounter with Love Incarnate more eloquently than the English poet George Herbert. So, I’ll give him the last word.


Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
      Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
      From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
      If I lacked anything.

A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:
     Love said, You shall be he.
I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
      I cannot look on Thee.
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
      'Who made the eyes but I?

Truth, Lord; but I have marred them: let my shame
      Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, Who bore the blame?
      My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat.
      So I did sit and eat.[7]

This post was published by Servants of Grace. Be sure to check out the many helpful resources for spiritual growth at their site

Notes


[1] Richard B. Hays, First Corinthians (Louisville, John Knox Press, 1997) p. 232-233.
[2] David Garland, 1 Corinthians (Grand Rapids, Baker Academic, 2003), p. 617. Garland is quoting Peter O’Brien.
[3] N. T. Wright, After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters (New York, Harper One, 2010) p. 29. Overall this is a great book, but ignore everything Wright says about Martin Luther.
[4] C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: HarperCollins, 2001) pp. 131-132.
[5] Timothy J. Keller “Love’s Way with God,” April 28, 1996. The Timothy Keller Sermon Archive. New York City: Redeemer Presbyterian Church.
[6] Ibid.
[7] George Herbert, “Love (3)” in The Complete English Poems (New York, Penguin Books, 2004), p. 178. 

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.)