Tag Archives: cross

Forgiveness is…

Forgiveness is fundamentally unjust and unfair; for if any meaningful forgiveness is to take place the wronged party must account the offender better than he rightly is, and so suffer in himself the difference. Thus it is not fair! How could it be fair for the one who forgives to pay the cost, not the one who needs forgiveness?

Usually, this means that what we call forgiveness is really a silent barter, in which the accounting of wrongdoing is exchanged for anger, a silent resentment, or a covering for one’s own wrongdoing – past or future. Even as children, we realise that when we hear a parent forgive us, we are usually wise to tread very carefully around them for a while. Again, nobody is that surprised when the wife who forgave her husband his adultery goes on to have an affair of her own. This, sadly, is what forgiveness usually means – the swapping of an outward and labeled grudge for an inward and unacknowledged grudge.

Now, I said usually, and I chose my words carefully. In fact, there are two – and only two – exceptions to this.

The first is in the work of Christ on the cross; for there God achieves a true forgiveness of his people, by bearing in himself the full consequence of sin and turning aside God’s anger. John writes, “In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 4:10). Only in God can being wronged and giving forgiveness resolve themselves in any ultimate sense; for in giving his only Son to die for our sins, he remains absolutely just. God is not wronged when he suffers for our sins, for it is his own wrath. On the cross God drinks the full cup of God’s own wrath in the person of his eternal Son. God does not wrong God; for just as Christ gives himself willingly to death, so too is God’s full, just, fair and righteous claim to punish sin and transgression met.

Unlike the wife asked to forgive her husband’s adultery, who internalises her wrong, forced to accept what is fundamentally unfair; God does not, in the big picture, forgive us by accepting our sin and passing over it. To think otherwise is to misunderstand the cross; for on the cross we find not acceptance and passing over of sin, but the full punishment for the sin of the world – and that’s really important to recognise. Although it comes at great cost, God is not wronged on the cross; and so he remains entirely holy and just.

And, that means the forgiveness we receive from God on account of the death of his Son is, finally, true forgiveness. It’s not mere toleration of our sin, or an ignoring of our past wrongdoings; it is a real and true forgiveness. There is no longer an outward grudge to convert to an inward grudge; there is no silent barter. All that was outward has been fully met, and so, as Paul writes “there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). And he means it.

The second place in which true forgiveness can be found is in the community of those who are forgiven by God on account of Christ. Nowhere else can true forgiveness be found but here, or on the cross. For, nowhere else are there people who have been truly forgiven much. We saw John’s words in which he pointed to love being shown in God’s sending of his Son to be the propitiation for our sins; but here we see a second form of love, but one which relies absolutely on the first. Jesus explains this very simply, saying of a sinful woman who had wiped his feet with her tears “I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” (Luke 7:47)

In Christ, and only in Christ, we are forgiven not just ‘much’, but everything. And so, in Christ, and only in Christ, we love much. Thus, suddenly, forgiving one another becomes just and fair – for that for which we forgive our neighbours can never outweigh that from which we have been forgiven by God in Christ. Because he has forgiven us, we can forgive others; indeed it is expected of us.

Paul directly compares the forgiveness we have in Christ with the way we forgive one another, saying “as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive” (Colossians 3:13). Even more strongly, Jesus explains that part of the Lord’s Prayer “forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us” by saying “if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matthew 6:14). That is to say, that truly forgiving one another is so tightly linked to our response to the Gospel that where it is absent, something is seriously wrong and the faith is likely not genuine.

A person is justified by works – James 2:14-26

The text from James 2:14-21 is historically speaking a very interesting text. It has been used and indeed abused by many to substantiate various theological positions to the extent that it is often hard to read it just for what it says and what it means. However, to properly treat the text, we must do exactly that – we must determine what it actually teaches in terms of doctrine, what it actually instructs a person to do, and what the implication of these together is for the Christian as an individual and the church as a whole. Indeed, it is my contention that if we can ignore all the historical bickering, we will find a text which is both straightforward in meaning, and valuable in application.

The NIV titles the passage “Faith and Deeds”, however I disagree. It is not about deeds, or works, at all – but about faith. In this passage, James sets out faith in quite considerable detail; but his focus is not upon what constitutes faith before God, but upon what constitutes faith as it is observable by man.

He opens with a question which is to shape the rest of the passage, asking in verse 14 “What does it profit, my brethren, if a man says he has faith but has not works? Can his faith save him?”

Now, having claimed the passage is not about works, it is only fair to acknowledge that it does refer to works; yet, James’ point here is to set out that in those who have a true faith; a faith that can save, there are also works as evidence of that faith.

To explain how this works, James will distinguish two types of faith; a living faith, and a dead faith. We implicitly understand much of his point from these words alone. We know well that that which is living does, and that which is dead does not. Indeed, we will even admit that nothing which is dead can save. James will substantiate his argument by bringing forth three examples:

  1. The first example is that of a hypothetical Christian, and it is as well it is hypothetical as it does not reflect well on the person involved! He starts in verse 15:

    15 If a brother or sister is ill-clad and in lack of daily food,
    16 and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what does it profit?
    James 2:15-16

    Well, it takes no great level of theological investigation to understand this point! It clearly doesn’t take faith in Christ to understand one should provide food and clothes for his own brother. If then we understand that much without theology, how much more is it clear with theology? The man pictured instead of doing what he ought, makes a mockery of the word of God; he offers a prayer or a blessing so that he can make God an excuse for his hatred. Clearly, his view of God is deficient, and from the placement of the argument, we see James intends us to conclude that this man does not really have a true and living faith He says with his lips that he has faith, with his heart he has none. Indeed, the very scripture which declares If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord (Romans 10:10) goes on to add and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead before promising you shall be saved. This is no more than James sets out here: the man confesses with his lips but evidentally believes not with his heart.

  2. The second example is that of Abraham (James 2:21-23), a man revered by Christians as the father of faith, and of whom we have clear testimony to the fact he was saved by his faith (e.g. Romans 4:9; Galatians 3:9; Hebrews 11:8,17).
    Note carefully here, that James does not say that Abraham was “saved by works and not by faith alone” but rather that he talks about his faith being justified – and this agrees very well with the narrative, for if we recall what happened, first Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness, and then some years later he offered Isaac as a sacrifice. Until the time that the sacrifice was offered, his contemporaries (and indeed the reader today), have nothing more than the word of his trust to go on. His claim to faith is justified by the action which agrees with it, and bears evidence to it.
  3. The third example is found in verse 25:

    And in the same way was not also Rahab the harlot justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out another way? (James 2:25)

    At first, it seems that Rahab offers nothing more than the example of Abraham, indeed, she confessed a faith to the spies at first, saying “The LORD your God is he who is God in heaven above and on earth beneath” (Joshua 2:11), and then she acted to save the spies from being captured – by which act we know the former claim to faith was true.
    However, there is something more – for note carefully the description chosen by James. He writes “And in the same way was not also Rahab the harlot justified”, which most clearly rules her out from a claim of righteousness by works. Indeed, her lifestyle testifies clearly that the works which testify to a living faith NOT those which mean a man lives a blameless and holy life before God, but rather works consistent with faith, that testify to faith, by which we know a claim to faith is more than mere words.

The argument of James is a very powerful one, it is the argument that we know that a man is justified because of the works that come from his faith. In verse 24 James summarises, saying “You see that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone”. Notice what he does not say. He does not say that “God sees that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone”. God sees that a man is justified by his faith alone, sees thoughts; heart – desires, faith. God alone. But for us, James shows, that we must rather see the faith of a man by the works he does in agreement with that which he claims.

What does it mean?

I started by saying that we would try to apply the passage; and that’s exactly what we’ll do. However, it is a passage which does cause some practical difficulties. It is difficult in particular for us when we ask if there are those who claim to have faith but have not works amongst those who we love and worship in our own communities. This gets brought into sharp focus when we ask ourselves how it is we decide (practically speaking) that a Christian has a true faith.

In some places, a sinners prayer is used. Once said, the new Christian is treated forevermore as a brother, or a sister, and it is assumed that on the last day he will be saved from the wrath of God by that very faith.

In other places, there is a rite of confirmation in which there is a public claim of faith, and witnesses. Once that has been completed, the person is judged to be one who truly does have faith, and is treated forevermore as one who will be most surely saved on the last day.

Yet, do we stop to ask if these practices agree with this passage from James? Should we be so sure of the salvation of those who merely claim to have faith? Well, James shows us that we are to look at their works as evidence of faith. When he imagines an objector who says (James 2:18) “You have faith and I have works” he even goes so far as saying, “Show me your faith apart from your works, and I by my works will show you my faith”. So, he suggests, it is appropriate to look for works that bear evidence in those who claim to have faith.

Now, there is much to be said for acting in Christian charity and taking the claim to faith as willingly as we can, so as not to discourage or disappoint those new in their faith; however, when it comes to pastoral questions – what to teach and what to preach – we do need to bear in mind what James says and think a little about how many members really do have a living faith.

Now, one thing which unites almost all denominations is a complaint of nominal Christianity, or Christians who are only Christians on a Sunday. It is a common complaint that there are many glad to offer prayers for the poor and needy, but yet refuse to help those even in their midst. Indeed almost ubiquitously, when an appeal is made for help, whether an appeal for help in outreach, or mission, or a teaching ministry, or indeed any other role, it is often the same few familiar faces who respond.

If we do consider and find such patterns, then perhaps we should in such a case pay closer attention to those words of James. If whilst these brothers and sisters say they have faith, yet if their faith has not works, then we are counselled by Scripture that they may well have but a dead faith. So far as we can see – their faith, which is dead, cannot save them. We may indeed be very pleasantly surprised by them on the last day; but until then, we must follow the guide of Scripture. As James says in verse 26; “For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so faith apart from works is dead” (James 2:26).

The counsel of James is that those who claim to have faith but are without works are yet in their trespasses and sins, and the wrath of God remains on them. It matters not how many times they come to church, or how frequently they pray. They will not be saved on the last day.

It is a chilling thought isn’t it? So what, then, can we do? What then is the answer?

Well; If a congregation lacks those works which testify to faith, maybe we should preach to them all the more of the need to do good works, of the need to feed the hungry, to care for those in need, to build up one another in knowledge, in love and the word of God, exhorting one another to good deeds.

We could do that. However, I don’t know about you – but I’ve never yet met a Christian who does not know that he has to do these things. … I have never yet met a Christian who does not know these things well, but I have met those who know them but do them not.

I do not think the problem arises from a lack of knowledge of these things, and indeed – even if we were to find a way to induce them to taking part in works, I do not think it would solve the problem. The idea that we can solve the problem of those who say they have faith, but have not works, by introducing works is like that of the foolish farmer who finding his trees dead, sets out to the market, purchases apples and then painstakingly ties them to his trees. Calling his brothers to come, he declares “behold, my brothers, my trees which were once dead are now alive, and lo, they bear fruit!”

Of course, it is easy for us to understand such a declaration is futile on the part of the farmer! Although it is true to say that a living tree bears fruit; yet it is also true to say that the fruit that a living tree bears comes from the life of the tree. It is not a fruit which is forced upon the tree, but a fruit which the tree brings forth out of its own stock of goodness and the life which is within it.

And so, too it is with faith; as James tells us, “for as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so faith apart from works is dead” Just as a tree without life is dead, so too the tree apart from fruit is dead. Our real problem is not the lack of fruit, or works; but it is the death of the tree, or indeed the dead faith.

So, if we cannot profitably exhort them to good works, what can we do about the problem?

Our aim then is to bring that which is dead to life : It is to bring those who have a dead faith into a living faith. Gospel is the power to salvation for all who believe. Faith, we read, comes not through works, but through hearing; and hearing by the Word of God. If we are serious about bringing faith to those who have but dead faith; if we truly care about saving from the very fires of hell – about the salvation of those who we call brothers and sisters – if we do want them to be saved on the last day and find their faith has not been in vain; then we surely we must all the more clearly, all the more powerfully, and all the more frequently and without relent preach the Gospel.

We must teach them day in and day out, or at least week in and week out, just what Christ did for them in dying for them on the cross.

We must declare to those who are yet of dead faith, that Christ died for them, in their death, that in him they might have life. We must proclaim to those who are still in their trespasses and sins that Christ died for sinners that they might be saved; that Christ took their sins upon himself dying in their place.

And, when we are done preaching the Gospel, we need to preach it again. It is not given to man to write off those he calls brothers and sisters as beyond salvation; it is not given to us to give up, but rather to declare life to those who need it.

For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God

For all have sinned and fallen short of the Glory of God and are justified freely by his grace

For all have sinned and fallen short of the Glory of God and are justified freely by his grace. Romans 3:23+

If you only understand one thing from the Bible, this should be it. We stand guilty before God – when we measure ourselves against his law we all fall flat. The good news then is that God justifies us (counts us sinless before him) by faith in the blood of Jesus Christ who died for our sins. This is the only way to be saved – because it does not matter how good we think we have been, we are still unrighteous and condemned to hell if measured by our deeds.

Romans 3:21-25
But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law, although the Law and the Prophets bear witness to it— the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith.

Diwali and the Christian

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.

The Works of the Law: Galatians 2:15-21

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.

Forgiving others is unfair

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.