So far, we have used the word Christ in our miniseries on Christ; and this title in itself bears a meaning. The title Christ refers to the word Messiah, a Hebrew word translated Christ (John 1:41) that means ‘the Lord’s anointed’. It is the way in which the angels describe him to the shepherds, calling out “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord (Luke 2:11). Again, when Simeon is introduced, we are told that “it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ” (Luke 2:26).

The concept of being ‘anointed’ is well established in the old Testament, being characteristic of prophets (I Kings 19:16), priests (Exodus 28:41) and kings (I Samuel 15:1). Often it is described as an anointing with oil; however, when Isaiah prophesies of Christ to come, he describes the way in which he is ‘anointed’ by the Spirit of the LORD:

And the Spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him,
the Spirit of wisdom and understanding,
the Spirit of counsel and might,
the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD.
Isaiah 11:2

You went out for the salvation of your people,
for the salvation of your anointed.
You crushed the head of the house of the wicked,
laying him bare from thigh to neck. Selah
Habakkuk 3:13

It is this title of Messiah, or Christ, which is mostly widely used by those referring to the expected Christ. When King Herod, who intends to kill him, asks where he can be found, he does so by asking where ‘the Christ’ is to be born. When Andrew started to follow Jesus, he uses the very same words to address his brother, Simon, saying ‘“We have found the Messiah” (which means Christ)’ (John 1:41). Again, when Jesus much later talks to the non-Jewish Samaritan woman he meets at a well she tells him “I know that Messiah is coming (he who is called Christ). When he comes, he will tell us all things” (John 4:25). Clearly, this expectation was shared widely – not only amongst the religious leaders in Jerusalem but amongst the ordinary Jews, the political leaders, and the surrounding nations.

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Amongst the introductions to Christ given by the Bible, that of John’s gospel stands out because it starts before the very beginning of creation rather than the events surrounding Christ’s birth. The opening passage talks about ‘the Word’ which was in the beginning. This ‘Word’, John reveals, was not only with God in the beginning, but was God.

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4 In him was life, and the life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
John 1:1-5

The mysterious ‘Word’ is explained a few verses later, particularly in verse 14 where we see that the Word became a man (flesh) and lived amongst men. It takes no great leap to see that the Word is Christ even at this point; and the rest of John’s gospel makes this point indisputable.

14 And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.
John 1:14

This then provides the first answers to “who is Christ” – that Christ is God, that Christ was with God in the beginning, and that all things that were created were created through him. Not only that, it leads to the second set of answers, that he is God who ‘became flesh and dwelt among us’. These two perspectives present two important ways to describe Christ; that he is both divine and also human. Not only is Christ God, but he is also man. It is important to bear these two distinct but inseparable natures of Christ in mind as we continue to discuss his role in salvation and see how important it is.

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In him was life, and the life was the light of men

Diwali (divali/deepavali), known as the ‘festival of lights’ is a central festival of the Hindu religion. It is centered around the concept of the atman, an inner light which is beyond the physical body and mind. Awareness of this inner light brings about peace, transcendence, and an awakening to an unchanging infinite non-bodily nature. This ‘inner light’ is celebrated over a period of five days during which lamps and lights are prominently featured.

This festival is a deeply integrated part of Indian and Hindu culture, both in India and overseas. The prominence given to it within the community means that Christians with a Hindu background need to ask themselves important questions about the compatibility of their participation with Christianity.

It’s important to note that within Christianity there is also a belief in a light which can legitimately be said to bring peace, dispel darkness, give guidance, and bring a knowledge of the mysteries of the infinite etc.. This light is an essential part of the Christian faith. It is this light we read of when Simeon picks up the infant Jesus and declares him to be “a light to enlighten the Gentiles” (Luke 2:32), and the same light we see set out at the beginning of John’s Gospel. It’s the account found in John 1:1-14 which we’ll discuss today – and we’ll do so with special reference to Diwali and the Atman:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. (John 1:1-4)
In words echoing the start of Genesis (Genesis 1:1-3), we see the Word, Christ, from the creation of the world – through whom all things were made. This same Christ is God, and within him alone is life. This life, which is within Christ alone, is the only light for mankind. So, the light of Christianity is not an internal light, but an external light; it is not of one’s own being, but of God’s own being.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:5)
We are in darkness, and it is the light which shines into the darkness; thus we do not find the light within ourselves, for it comes from God and is of God where it shines into our darkness.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light. (John 1:6-8)
See how even when God has acted in a man to bear witness about the light, still he is not the light? The light is not a part of man, the light is not a part of his being, the light cannot ever be found from within. The light which shines into the darkness is the light of God, Jesus Christ – a light for man not a part of man.

The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. (John 1:9)
Again, how can the light come into the world, if the light here discussed is akin to the atman? This claimed atman is a part of a man’s own being and self, which needs to be discovered – it is not the external light of God but an internal light of man. Clearly, atman cannot be the true light – and as the true light is the true God; then atman is a false god – an idol – and thus the festival is a festival of idolatry.

He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. (John 1:10-11)
That so many will spend so much effort in the worship of this false God, atman, the impostor pretending to be the light which enlightens man, pretending to be God, should not be a surprise. John 3:19 explains “the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their deeds were evil.” Our evil deeds are great; consider we are even conceived in sin and raised in iniquity (Psalm 51:5), each one of us knowing the revelation of God (Romans 1:19) yet turning away from him to worship false gods and idols (Romans 1:25). Although God made us, we refuse to acknowledge him as the one God.

Note this well:

  1. Christ is the only true light that shines into our darkness
  2. This same Christ who is the true light of the world is also fully God
  3. Sinful and wicked man created a lie that the true light is the atman, a part of man’s own being
  4. Thus, the lie puts man in the place of God – the archetype of all idolatry

But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. (John 1:12-13)
Regard the great grace of God, his immense mercy to mankind – for he has torn a people for himself, ripped us from the darkness of hell by the blood of Jesus Christ. It is Christ who is the light of the world, the same Christ who alone is the way, and the truth, and the life (John 14:6).

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:14)
This very Christ, the only Son from the Father, who became man and took on our human flesh, also died for our sins and was raised again in glory. He alone is our light – and no other. Brothers, let us take great care never to give to any other the honour and glory which belongs to God alone. It is clearly the worship of a false God to celebrate, remember, parade, praise, or display this inner light of Atman to which Diwali refers.

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The epistle of James, part of the New Testament, contains a passage which has become a favourite of those who have difficulty accepting sola fide, the doctrine that salvation is by faith alone. Foremost in this regard are the twelve verses of James 2:14-26 in which it appears that James contradicts what Paul outlines frequently elsewhere by insisting on the necessity of works as well as faith for justification.

That this particular passage has become a favourite is regrettable, for those who use it to back up their rejection of sola fide invariably embarrass themselves by making a real mess of understanding what the passage actually says. Keen to draw the mind of their listeners to the words which suggest their case, they fail to employ the basic principles of Biblical exegesis and arrive at an entirely false hermeneutic. As is to be expected in such a circumstance, the case that they then build is fatally flawed.

It should suffice to state this and let the matter rest – as justification by faith is well set out in many other passages (Luke 5:20; John 3:16; John 5:24; Acts 16:31; Romans 4:5; Galatians 2:6; Ephesians 2:8-10; Titus 3:5 etc.), and pointing out the errors of those who are already happy to ignore so many clear statements in favour of one is futile; yet, the scripture twisting of this passage continues and often does achieve its desired aim of diverting the weaker brothers amongst us from the foundations of our Christian faith. Therefore, as medicine and perhaps part immunisation, let us go into a little detail as to the meaning of the text as is most readily apparent from the text itself, and from the Biblical context.

James 2:14: What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him?

The section in question opens with two questions, the answers to which are first discussed and then stated. The first question asks the value of a faith without works, and the second asks if this faith without works is able to effect salvation. Take great care to note here the phrase is “if someone says he has” and not “if someone has”, for here we discuss not the nature of faith but the nature of a claim to faith. This discussion is thematically an extension of that with which the epistle opens, where we read “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (James 1:2-3). In the opening, James relates the value of being tested in the faith, for it produces steadfastness. Note the order; first that there is faith, then that is tested, and that the testing produces steadfastness. First faith, then the works which proceed from faith in due course.

Here, in James 2:14 we are asked the reverse question; almost as if it were to say “What good is it if a man meets with trials of various kinds, but his faith does not produce steadfastness? Can that faith save him?” True faith, as in 1:3, responds to tests and challenges, it moves the believer to respond to God’s will. The nature of faith already being set out previously as one which responds with works, the word “faith” in the following verses is necessarily a reference to “claimed faith without works” as in James 2:14 rather than (as some have argued) a true faith without works.

James 2:15-16: If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?

As if to underline the point, we next read an example of these works. The ‘one of you’ here is also by implication a brother or sister, that is, one who claims faith; and perhaps until this point there has been no reason to doubt the professed faith of the man. Yet, in his failure to respond, he betrays the absence of a true faith. The fault here is with the faith of the person and suggests it to be a false faith. This is then the thrust of the argument in this section, that a claimed faith which does not manifest itself in works when the time for such arrives is not a true faith. This is in good agreement with the rest of scripture (e.g. Philippians 1:6,11; Romans 8:29-30).

James 2:17: So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.

We come to the first contentious point of the passage, which seems to contradict so many other passages of scripture. Yet, if the context of the verse is taken into account, we should rather read “so also man who claims to have faith, but from which works do not proceed, has a dead (or a falsely claimed) faith”. As the Spirit is received by grace in faith it is impossible for there to be a true faith which is dead, but rather only an empty claim to faith apart from the life of the Spirit. Remember, these works here discussed proceed from faith, and as they proceed by the same grace as that which has first justified the believer then they necessarily and without fail follow faith. So, to suggest that a man has a true and present faith, but from his faith works do not proceed, is to attribute a fault not to the man or to his faith, but to the Spirit which indwells him, and almost to imply that God himself is guilty of the failure. No, rather, it is clear that by dead faith James means nothing more complex than the state of a man who claims to have faith but in fact has none.

James 2:18: But someone will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works.

Skilfully, the question is turned around yet again, and to great effect. Having discussed the manifestation of a false claim to faith in the lack of works, the question becomes one of how one might demonstrate faith other than through works. Although the question is, in some ways, redundant, yet it serves well to emphasise the line of reasoning. The challenge is rhetorical, for a man cannot show his faith to man other than by the witness of his sanctification.

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

Here follows a qualification to faith, which is to state that faith must have its proper object; for the mere belief that God is one is insufficient. The faith which saves is faith in the person and work of Christ (e.g. I Peter 1:8-9), not merely the nature of God, and so here those who profess faith but deny the Gospel are condemned. Although it does not immediately fit the flow of the argument, yet it is essential that this point is raised, for there are many who believe, but somewhat fewer who have the Gospel as the object of that belief. It is likely that it relates directly to Deuteronomy 6:4, which was used by Jews frequently almost as a miniature creed, and almost mocks the empty repetition of the phrase which was most often quite apart from faith in God let alone in the covenant promises through Abraham.

James 2:20-23: Do you want to be shown, you foolish person, that faith apart from works is useless? Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered up his son Isaac on the altar? You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by his works; and the Scripture was fulfilled that says, “Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness”—and he was called a friend of God.

Here is a rather pointed and strongly worded question, but it serves its purpose well. The object is much related to what we have just read of the object of faith, and should be as we have discussed read in the context of a claimed faith. Here, declared faith, claimed faith (perhaps also today’s altar calls), are labelled useless because they do not demonstrate faith – indeed we know even the servants of Satan make such claims to faith (II Corinthians 11:14-15). Next, we read a very useful example and one which deserves very close attention. The text relates to two events in the life of Abraham, the first being Genesis 22:10, and the second being Genesis 15:6. The first refers to the works, the second to the faith; and yet that of faith here written second took place some decades before that of works here written first. This then reiterates the same point yet again, that a true faith is followed in due course by works, and so although he had already been declared justified in the sight of God in Genesis 15:6 yet it is not until Genesis 22:10 that his claim to faith is justified before man. That there should be no doubt then that the justification here is according to man, it is worthwhile also reading Romans 4:1-5 on the subject of Abraham’s justification before God.

James 2:24: You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone.

Whilst this verse is just a summation of what precedes it, yet given the frequency with which it is taken from its context and used to support all manner of heresy, it demands a more complete discussion. The blame perhaps rests to some extent with our reformers, who used the language of ‘justification by faith’ so frequently that when we see ‘faith’ and ‘justification’ in one verse we jump to the conclusion that what is meant is declarative justification of man before God. Yet, in Greek as in English, the word ‘justified’/δικαιόω bears two meanings. Read, for example, Luke 10:29 or Luke 16:15 and you will see this other sense; the sense of a man seeking to appear justified in his actions. Many people lock the door of their house when they leave it empty, and given the risk of burglary they are justified in doing so. Yet, we do not dream to suggest that by locking your door you are declared righteous before God, no – but merely justified in your action before man. This verse itself is a direct answer to the challenge of James 2:18, for it points out what we already discussed, the futility of trying to justify (show, demonstrate, exhibit) a claimed faith without the works which proceed from faith.

James 2:25: And in the same way was not also Rahab the prostitute justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out by another way? For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith apart from works is dead.

Here, just as we read in Hebrews 11:31, is testimony to the faith of Rahab. Because she had faith, when that faith was tested by the spies (Joshua 2:1), it produced in her works. It is because of her works that she was justified in the eyes of the spies, and so she found favour in their eyes (Joshua 2:14). This justification then is not a declaration of the saving justification by which a man is declared righteous before God, but to the other meaning already discussed, the justification of Rahab’s claim to faith in the eyes of man.

As to the application of this passage, I find it to be very directly applicable and of great instructive value to Christians today. Although we know that only God knows the heart of a man, yet here we are given a means by which we might recognise those who falsely claim faith. In such a manner, this teaching is parallel to that of Christ in Matthew 7:16, for it is by the works which proceed from faith that a claimant to faith is justified in his claim, and conversely by the presence of bad works or the absence of works in due course (which is strictly speaking a bad work in itself) that such a claim be dismissed as unjustified.

The crucial question then arises, which is the correct course of action to be taken regarding a person who claims faith but appears defective in works. Two options present themselves; the first – to encourage the person to do good works, the second – to proclaim the Gospel to that person.

If we choose the first option, that is if we exhort those we think to be without true faith to perform works, do we not risk exhorting them into a false righteousness apart from the righteousness of God and Christ (Romans 10:3++), giving them false hope and comfort in their state of separation from God, deceiving them into thinking themselves justified before God by the performance of acts to justify themselves before man?

The second option, to proclaim to them the Word, does not seem to address the problem of a lack of works until it be realised that the lack of works points to the lack of faith and not the reverse. As scripture tells us, it is the hearing of the Gospel which leads us faith, and so not exhortation to works (Romans 10:17).

It is then clear that it is wrong to use James 2:14++ for the purpose of exhorting persons of defective works to perform more works, for such a use is to confuse law and grace in making the sanctifying work of the Spirit (received by faith through grace) into law for man to perform in order that he might somehow earn or merit faith (which again is by grace). The remedy for defective works is then not exhortation to works, for the defective lack of works is symptomatic of a lack of faith. Just as a poor doctor might treat the symptoms and not the disease, so too does the poor use of this passage treat the sign of a lack of faith and not the lack of faith itself.

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Galatians 2.15-21; ESV
15 We ourselves are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners; 16 yet we know that a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, so we also have believed in Christ Jesus, in order to be justified by faith in Christ and not by works of the law, because by works of the law no one will be justified.

17 But if, in our endeavor to be justified in Christ, we too were found to be sinners, is Christ then a servant of sin? Certainly not! 18 For if I rebuild what I tore down, I prove myself to be a transgressor. 19 For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. 20 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. 21 I do not nullify the grace of God, for if justification were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose.

In the scripture above, taken from Paul’s letter to the Galatians, Paul tackles the Jews amongst his audience, he himself being a Jew; and so, whilst he clearly rejects their theology, we see his ability to empathise with them and so present his argument that it might be clearly understood from their point of view. This is important to remember, because if it is read as if it were directed at believers in general then almost one half of the argument is lost, that is – the implied objections and rejections of the Jews. That being said, there is much that relates the theology of the Jewish Christians in Galatia with that of many Christians today, for in both cases there is a failure to understand the absoluteness of grace, a grace which boldly declares that no work of man whatsoever merits or contributes to salvation.

The Jews of the day had been raised in the knowledge that they were the chosen people of God: they were circumcised in the flesh, and sought to observe all parts of the law in accordance with the teaching of the Rabbis. This law comprised four parts, the first being the ceremonial law – those ceremonies, rites, and rules of ritual purity that were a peculiar part of God’s relationship with the nation of Israel through the temple, the second being moral law – those edicts and commands of God founded in morality – such as the ten commandments, the third being civil law – the means by which God provided regulatory governance to Israel as they lived in the land, and the fourth the oral tradition – the body of case law and rulings which was formed by the rabbis and teachers of the law over generations to interpret the law and add safeguards against accidentally breaking it.

Paul, a Jew, here groups himself with his audience, so when he says “we ourselves”, that is what he means – those Jews who have come to faith in Christ, himself included. Note carefully his opening argument: first, that they were born Jews and as such born with the law and apart from Gentiles, then that because by the works of the law no one will be justified, so that even they as Jews had put their trust in Christ.

By trying to do the works demanded by the law, to keep the law in all its parts, the Jews had long thought that they would be able to obtain righteousness and so be justified before God. So far, Paul has no quarrel with them, for God did promise righteousness through the perfect keeping of the law; yet, that really is theory rather than practice – for the law is impossible for sinful man to keep, neither for Jew nor for Gentile. It is true to say that man is able to keep some parts of the law, and indeed for periods of time much of the ceremonial law was kept; yet, the moral law in particular demands standards so high no fallen man can ever meet them entirely.

Just consider what Jesus calls the greatest commandment, that in Deuteronomy 6:5, where we read “you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might”. Whilst what this commandment asks of us it is entirely good and right, yet, what man can say there has never been a moment in which he has not loved God with all his heart, that there has never been a time when his soul took pleasure in sin, and that throughout his life he has always used his entire might in the love of God? Even today, can any man claim that since he woke he has not wavered even slightly in the entirety of his love for God, with the fullness of his soul, and in the completeness of his might?

So, when Paul says that a person is not justified by the works of the law, he does not mean that the promise of God that keeping the law would result in righteousness is false, rather that because no man is able to keep the law, it shall not justify any man. There is no salvation through the law, because there is no keeping of the law; indeed, the law was only kept once, by Christ himself. No man before Christ, contemporary to Christ or after Christ has kept the law, so that there really is none that is righteous. Every man who measures himself against the law – that is to say, the full law of God, as revealed – finds he falls short. Before the law, no man can stand, no man finds himself without sin, and so by the law all mankind dies.

On the other hand, Paul now states the basis of our justification, that we are justified through faith in Jesus Christ. We, of habit and convenience tend to conflate the two; to tie indelibly that we are not saved by works, and that we are saved by faith – but they are not as one point, but rather an ordered progression. It is entirely possible to not be saved by works without being saved by faith; yet it is not possible to be saved by faith without deserting salvation by works. So, the first does not demand the second, yet the second demands the first.

“Because by works of the law no one will be justified” is not just the flip-side of the coin, it is a death sentence to every Jew and everyone who hopes to be justified through works. To Paul’s Jewish audience it is to say that the law in which they were born, raised and to which they have been striving in the hope of life is instead the sure and certain promise of death. That’s a serious matter, a deeply insulting allegation, and an implied condemnation of the whole Jewish community – it is to say that the whole basis of Jewish pietistic and legalistic religion is futile and foolish.

Having given such a statement, the natural thought of the Jewish mind is to the effect of this on the status of a Jew and his existing works of the law. Now, it was taught that the Gentiles were sinful because they were without the law, and that the Jews gained righteousness by being under the law; and so the question becomes whether by ceasing to strive for salvation by works of the law they would become sinners just as the Gentiles. Worse yet, is is because of faith in Christ that they become sinners? If it is the faith in Christ that makes them come to terms with their sin, then they might reason it is Christ bringing sin to them.

Paul answers this with absolute clarity – “Certainly not!” – and he shows the error in this line of thought. As his first argument, he writes that “if I rebuild what I tore down, I prove myself to be a transgressor”, and here we need only think as far as Christ, for it is Christ that tore down the tyranny of sin, and so to suggest that Christ then rebuilds sin through faith in him would make Christ himself a sinner! Next, he presents to us the true and proper basis of faith and our response to faith. This is in two important statements.

The first statement is this – that “through the law I died to the law” – for this what we have seen, that it is the commands of the law which despite being entirely good, demand a holiness impossible for fallen man; and so it is due to the nature of the law itself that any man who honestly measures himself against the law will not find the justification he seeks but rather the condemnation of his own sin. It is not then Christ, or faith in Christ, which causes one to die to the law but rather the law itself. If a man under the law believes he can stand under the law, then surely either he fails to understand the full requirement of the law, or in pride and conceit he estimates his own righteousness far beyond the fact.

The second statement is this – “so that I might live to God. 20 I have been crucified with Christ” Now, there is a verse number in the middle of this sentence, suggesting that the phrase about living to God relates first to dying to sin, and that being crucified with Christ stands all alone. This does not seem to be the sense of the passage, and it would be odd for Paul to make such a statement without connecting it to anything whilst in the midst of a developed argument. Rather, and given that the verse number and punctuation is a later addition, it seems more appropriate to read this statement as one – “so that I might live to God, I have been crucified with Christ. So, the first statement is that “through the law I died to the law”, and the second “so that i might live to God, I have been crucified with Christ” – another form of death, the first death to the law by the condemnation of the law, and the second a death to sin through Christ. One is in essence the death of sin which reveals sinfulness, the other in essence the death to sin which brings life in Christ through faith. The agent of the first is the law, the agent of the second is Christ; and so in no way can the argument that Christ somehow produces sin hold water.

The truth of this underlines the distinction between law and grace, that although both bring about death, and both forms of death may be suffered, yet they differ entirely both in their result and in their actor or agent. This is again emphasised by Paul when he summarises that “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me”; which is to say that through the death by the law truly comes death (even before he hoped in Jesus Christ Paul was dead under the law) and yet it is through faith in Jesus Christ that he is crucified into Christ so that Christ might live in him. He was already under death, for he was already a transgressor of the law, and now he has life, but yet it is not him that lives, but Christ who lives in him.

For this reason then Paul can boldly state that the life he now lives “in the flesh”, by which he means that life connected to this world and this age, is lived by faith in the Son of God. Yet, faith itself is insufficient. We often hear that faith saves, yet it is more correct to talk of saving faith; for not all faith is faith in the same thing, and so not all faith is equal or indeed saving. Paul states what his faith is, when he writes of Christ “who loved me and gave himself for me”. The first object of faith then is in the love of Christ, which is to say the grace of God – for because it is due to the love of Christ it is not by any merit of man but rather by grace alone; and the second object here listed is that Christ gave himself “for me” – and note well that Paul talks of himself, personally and singularly. This is a personal faith in the personal saving work of a personal God, and that saving work being the death of Christ. The life Paul once sought through the law he now acknowledges correctly seen as being only death, for he now lives by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone.

Thus far we have spoken of Paul and his Jewish audience; yet, by now it should be clear that his teaching is not applicable to Jews alone. We too love to place our trust in the works of the law, to trust in being good people, to feel that God should favour us more because we are more righteous than most. We go to Bible studies, pray long prayers, never miss Church, and bow deeply before the table, ever feeling that we are not like ordinary people, that we are doing okay, and unless God is only planning to take say the top 1% to heaven, we’re likely to be accepted. We love to look at our good works, to think about all the money we donate, all the kind words we say, all the scripture we read, for it gives us hope that we’re not so bad after all, that we can achieve that righteousness that God requires. We are no better than the Jews to whom Paul wrote, for we too love to seek righteousness by works.

To us then, as well as to his audience, Paul stands up for the Gospel, when he says “I do not nullify the grace of God, for if justification were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose.” This isn’t just fighting talk, nor is it merely an accusation of the deepest and most serious blasphemy; this is to say that we who fail to trust in Grace alone do not have faith in Christ and are therefore not saved by Christ. If we hold that justification is through the law, then we are, says Paul, denying that Christ died for a purpose – and if we believe Christ died without a purpose, we can profit nothing from his death.

We too, just as Paul and the Jewish Christians in Galatia, are to hold steadfastly to the Gospel of our salvation, which as Paul explains, is necessarily and unavoidably by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone.

3 com

We sometimes feel it unfair to forgive, and I think in many ways this feeling is right; it is unfair to forgive. When you forgive someone who has wronged you, then on an economic level you are coming out at a loss. Someone has wronged you, and you have been content to remain wronged. This is true for emotional wrongs just as much as physical acts.

If it’s unfair, then it follows that we don’t forgive because it is fair; rather, we forgive in spite of it being unfair. It is to be expected that we should not want to forgive others, for we do not wish to be unfair to ourselves. So, if we come to terms with the idea of forgiveness being essentially and fundamentally unfair then I suggest it becomes easier to think about the true reasons, motivations and limitations for forgiveness.

Often-times we delay forgiveness. We put off forgiving others until we come to a decision that the matter is so far past, better explained, and half-forgotten, so that it somehow feels easier to forgive. It’s harder to forgive when the wound is fresh; we feel that the cost is too high, that to forgive too much too soon would be too hard or too charitable for us.

Now, the root of forgiveness is love; to forgive someone we do not want to forgive is a pure, certain and direct statement of love. Yet, more than that it is a gloriously and mightily unfair act of love. To forgive in opposition to our own knowledge of what is just and fair is to make a real and costly sacrifice, to deny ourselves retribution and vengeance for the sake of the love we have for our fellow men.

The question then is not how we might forgive others, but where we might look to find that great love, to fill our hearts until they overflow with charity. The more perfectly we love, the more perfectly we will forgive, not through our own work but through the work of that love which is within us.

This, interestingly, is something that differentiates Christianity from the major religions; for it is this very story, a history of a love so deep that it could not bear to see just judgement on mankind. It is an account of a sacrifice so great and so very deeply unfair that not just one person was forgiven, but the sins of the whole world. The Gospel of John puts it in this very simple way “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son”. Is it possible for there to be an act more unfair than for Jesus Christ to be rejected, persecuted, beaten, mocked and put to death by hanging on a cross amongst thieves?

God could have stopped what happened at Golgotha at any time. God could have saved Jesus and spared him from death. It would have been fair and just to send angels to defend him. He didn’t; and that he didn’t was for you and for me, because he loved us so much that he was willing to pay such a price to achieve our forgiveness. God, our perfect judge, just punisher, and omnipotent creator came to earth as man to be judged unfairly, punished wickedly and destroyed even to death so that he could take onto himself the punishment and judgement of our sins. What Jesus did on the cross was to pay the greatest price of the greatest love. Jesus said “I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd gives his life for the sheep”; and this was his intention from the very beginning.

The Prophet Isaiah, writing around seven hundred years before Jesus was born, wrote movingly about what Jesus was to do for mankind. I’ve included an extract from Isaiah 53 below, although the whole chapter is deeply meaningful:

He was despised and rejected by men;
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.

But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.

Here then, at the foot of a Roman cross, do we find that deep and pure love, that perfect charity from which comes true, perfect, and very very unfair forgiveness. Here then, in the midst of perfect love do we find perfect forgiveness. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him (John 3:16-17).

Perhaps when we feel we don’t want to forgive others, or want to to put it off until it seems less of a challenge, we might do well to remember the deep love that God has for us, that whilst we were yet sinners, he died for us (Romans 5:8). How dreadfully unfair, how terribly costly, how very humiliating – but yet, how gracious, how merciful and how loving – that God who is the very definition of righteousness should sacrifice so much for desperate sinners such as us. God didn’t wait until our sins were half-forgotten, nor did he wait for us to first apologise and mend our ways; rather he saved us when we did not seek him and in spite of our hatred and rejection of him.

Forgiveness then is not a matter of difficulty, but a matter of love. To forgive one another is never wrong, but as we’ve discussed, it is usually deeply unfair. But, let us rejoice in this very unfairness, for it is in this unfairness that we reflect the glow of the love our creator has for all mankind, that love that drove God to commit the most unfair act of all eternity to take away the sin of the world.

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