The reformation doctrine of “miserable sinners” is a doctrine of penitent sinners. It has no application to the indifferent or the secure. It offers itself only to those who, broken-hearted in repentance, look to Jesus alone as their compassionate Savior, and tells them that for them too Jesus alone is enough. It does not tell them that they are not sinners; that would not be true, and they know it is not true; no one know himself a sinner like a penitent sinner. It tells them that they are saved sinners–and that is the most glorious thing it could tell them.
- Benajamin B. Warfield, Perfectionism: Volume I (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books), 227.
It belongs to the very essence of the type of Christianity propagated by the Reformation that the believer should feel himself continuously unworthy of the grace by which he lives. At the center of this type of Christianity lies the contrast of sin and grace; and about this center everything else revolves. This is in large part the meaning of the emphasis put in this type of Christianity on justification by faith. It is its conviction that there is nothing in us or done by us, at any stage of our earthly development, because of which we are acceptable to God. We must always be accepted for Christ’s sake, or we cannot ever be accepted at all. This is not true of us only “when we believe.” It is just as true after we have believed. It will continue to be true as long as we live. Our need of Christ does not cease with our believing; nor does the nature of our relation to Him or to God through Him ever alter, no matter what our attainments in Christian behavior may be. It is always on His “blood and righteousness” alone that we can rest. There is never anything that we are or have or do that can take His place, or that can take a place along with Him. We are always unworthy, and all that we have or do of good is always of pure grace. Though blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenlies in Christ, we are still in ourselves just “miserable sinners”: “miserable sinners” saved by grace to be sure, but “miserable sinners” still, deserving in ourselves nothing but everlasting wrath. That is the attitude which the Reformers took, and that is the attitude which the Protestant world has learned from the Reformers to take, toward the relation of believers to Christ.
… The attitude of the “miserable sinner” is not only not one of despair; it is not even one of depression; and not even one of hesitation or doubt; hope is too weak a word to apply to it. It is an attitude of exultant joy. Only this joy has its ground not in ourselves but in our Savior. We are sinners and we know ourselves to be sinners, lost and helpless in ourselves. But we are saved sinners; and it is our salvation which gives the tone to our life, a tone of joy which swells in exact proportion to the sense we have of our ill-desert; for it is he to whom much is forgiven who loves much, and who, loving, rejoices much.
- Benajamin B. Warfield, Perfectionism: Volume I (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books), 113-14.
Anyone who does not have a solid grasp of the distinction between justification and sanctification must read this! As Warfield says, it is the very essence of Protestantism, and if we fail to properly understand this we may as well go back to Rome:
We are not dealing here, however, with merely an apex logicus. We are dealing with the very essence of Protestantism. The progressive character of salvation lies at the very heart of Protestantism’s heart, because (among other things) the Protestant doctrine of justification and its effects takes to a considerable extent its form from it. A large part of the religious value of the Protestant doctrine of justification, in its distinction from sanctification, is lost, if sanctification be not a process, the completion of which occupies the whole of life; if, that is, the injunction, “Work out your own salvation,” does not apply to the whole of the Christian’s walk on earth, but ought to be addressed to men only at some particular stage of their Christian experience-say, only at its beginning. For a large part of the religious value of this distinction turns on this-that the Christian’s hope of salvation (his assurance) does not depend on the stage of sanctification to which he has already attained. Sanctification being a process, and a process which reaches its completion only when this life is over, the discovery of sin remaining in him at any point of his earthly life is no proof that the Christian may not nevertheless be in Christ. In proportion as it is made the Christian’s duty not so much to work out his salvation continuously but to enjoy it at once in its completeness, the believer, conscious of sin, loses his confidence that he is a believer at all. If this attainment of complete salvation is made coincident with justification, all sense of continued sinfulness is a clear disproof of present salvation. The matter is only mitigated, not changed, by separating the attainment of complete sanctification in time from justification. Salvation involving taking this second step, the continued sense of sinfulness becomes evidence of failure of such portentousness as to shatter our peace and assurance. If it belongs to the Christian to be without sin, and to be without sense of sin-in this sense of the statement-then the fact of experience that we are not without sin and not without the sense of sin is pretty clear proof that we are not Christians. It is not a matter of little importance, then, that we should settle it with ourselves whether the characteristic of the Christian walk in the world is constant advance towards sinlessness, or complete present enjoyment of sinlessness. If the latter, then, gloss it as we will, no one is entitled to think of himself as a Christian, no one is justified in regarding himself as saved, unless he is in the possession of complete sinlessness. In that case the whole religious gain of the Reformation doctrine of justification in distinction from sanctification is lost, and we are thrown back again into the despairing task of determining our religious state and our future hope on the ground of our own merits. [bold emphasis added]
- Benajamin B. Warfield, Perfectionism: Volume I (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books), 88-90.
A Bright Hope of Grace
June 28, 2008
If the law only was preached, it would, by its horrors, harden souls, driven to despair, into a hatred of God, as a severe avenger of sin. But by adding the gospel, which makes a bright hope of grace to shine, even on the most abandoned and wretched sinner, if displeased with himself, he heartily desires it: obstinate hearts come to relent, and to be melted down into a love of God and of his Christ. And therefore nothing ought to be more sweet and dear to us than the most delightful word of the Gospel, in which are brooks of honey and butter, Job xx. 17.
- Herman Witsius, The Economy of the Covenants (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed), 351.
Herman Witsius: On the Sufferings of Christ
June 27, 2008
This exceeding trouble and agony did not arise only from the sympathy of the soul with the body, nor from the mere horror of impending death; it was something else that afflicted the soul of Christ, namely, his bearing the sins, not of one, but of all the elect; he had beheld the awful tribunal of God, before which he was presently to appear, in order to pay what he took not away; he saw the Judge himself, armed with all the terrors of his incomprehensible vengeance, the law brandishing all the thunders of its curses, the devil, and all the powers of darkness, with all the gates of hell just ready to pour in upon his soul: in a word, he saw justice itself, in all its inexorable rigour, to which he was now to make full satisfaction; he saw the face of his dearest Father, without darting a single ray of favour upon him, but rather burning with hot jealousy in all the terrors of his wrath against the sins of mankind, which he had undertaken to atone for. And whithersoever he turned, not the least glimpse of relief appeared for him, either in heaven or on earth, till with resolution and constancy he had acquitted himself in the combat. These, these are the things, which, not without reason, struck Christ with terror and amazement, forced from him his groans, his sighs, and his tears. And if all this was not for the expiation and satisfaction for our sins, what reason can be assigned, why the other sufferings of Christ, within the three hours of darkness, should be accounted so? [bold emphasis added]
- Herman Witsius, The Economy of the Covenants (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed), 218.
The White Horse Inn: How are we to think of remaining sin?
“You can still hold to eternal security and yet hold people in fear of never having been Christians, which amounts to the same thing… It’s not between whether you commit a sin once or eight-million times in your Christian life, the difference is whether you think you have a right to commit sins or not commit sins…”
- Michael Horton
Listen here.
Two-Stage Fulfillment: King, People and Land
June 24, 2008
…Another aspect of the discontinuity between them [Old and New Covenants] emerges when they are viewed as two stages in the fulfilling of the kingdom promise of the Abrahamic Covenant. The Old Covenant kingdom is only a temporary type, a provisional symbol, while the New Covenant kingdom is the permanent antitypical reality. Emphasizing this difference, the Book of Hebrews declares the discontinuity to be such that with the initiating of the New Covenant, the Old Covenant becomes obsolete and vanishes away (Heb. 8:13). To be sure, a certain continuity is involved in the typological relationship itself, the continuity of the earlier prototype to the later antitype of promise to fulfillment. Nevertheless, the New Covenant fulfillment entails the discontinuance of the Old Covenant. The Old Covenant is abrogated and replaced by the New Covenant (cf. Heb 7:18; John 1:17; Rom 10:4). At the same time, we recognize that there is solid continuity between the Old and New Covenants when the Old Covenant is viewed not as the overlay stratum to which the typological kingdom and works principle appertain but at the foundational gospel-grace layer. Indeed, from this perspective the New Covenant continues the Old Covenant.
- Meredith G. Kline, God, Heaven and Har Magedon (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock), 97-98.
Reformed Piety
June 23, 2008
Just as sound piety cannot be separated from its source in justification and adoption, personal piety cannot be separated from public activity. An evangelical shaped piety will inevitably turn one away from “forever gazing within” (Calvin), to look out onto a world in need. Medieval piety had not only emphasized merit; it pointed the energetic saint to a life of isolation from the world in meditation upon the eternal Good by transcending the world of appearances. But Reformation piety could not stand in greater contrast. First, it emphasized God’s redemptive activity in history and in the hearing of the gospel, sharply criticizing the Platonized elements of the medieval synthesis, shifting the emphasis from contemplation to action. Second, it emphasized free justification, which freed one from at least the theological motive for serving oneself by serving God and others. If justification before God is already accomplished, God and neighbors are not instrumental to one’s own salvation.
…Too much of [contemporary] Protestant theology has been formed in the womb of a type of pietism with an antitheological bias and a fascination with praxis merely as an interior experience of God and grace. Precisely its lack of concern for doctrine contributes to an individualistic and dualistic practice that is often shared by conservative evangelicals and liberals… Only a Biblical theology of grace and of covenant can produce this inner ambition that is far more powerful that guilt of sentimentalism. The church is called, like Athanasius, to be against the world for the world. [bold emphasis added]
- Michael S. Horton, Covenant and Eschatology (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox), 254-60.
The Probation Tree
June 18, 2008
In the probation tree man found himself face to face with the claims of absolute lordship. Restricting man in the exercise of his royal authority and privileges, the probationary commandment compelled him to acknowledge that his own kingship was that of a vassal-king, that the world was his only in stewardship. It demanded that in the naming-interpretive task, the wise man role that was ancillary to man’s kingship, he must follow without question the direction of the Logos-Creator. Even when God addressed to him an apparently arbitrary word that constituted an exceptional instance within divine revelation, man must not assume an autonomous, critical stance over against his Lord, selecting for himself a canon within the canon of God’s word. He was rather held responsible to recognize the canonical word at every point, to grasp it, and submit his thought and life to all that God said. The effect of this special probationary prohibition was to confront man head-on simply and solely with God’s absolute authority and thus to face him inescapably with the demand for a clear-cut confession of his sovereign Lord. And in this way the test of man’s covenant loyalty was brought to its decisive issue.
- Meredith G. Kline, Kingdom Prologue (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock), 105.
The Sinaitic Covenant and the Covenant of Works
June 13, 2008
Paul’s argument from the covenant with Abraham hinges on the relationship between that and the Sinai Covenant. The first, Paul insists, does not stipulate conditions: the second he identifies altogether with the conditions it contains, usually calling it simply “the Law.” The Law, he argues, cannot condition the covenant with Abraham since it was communicated, by his reckoning, 430 years later. That is to say that the covenant which constitutes the chosen people of God is not conditional upon their performance. The conditions of the Sinai Covenant were communicated, paradoxically, in order to bring the people to a recognition that their covenant with God was unconditional; for until they recognized their radical inability to fulfill God’s conditions of righteousness they might imagine that they were chosen for doing so. Thus the Sinai Covenant is subordinated to the covenant with Abraham…. The main outline of this argument cannot be overlooked by any Christian exegete, whatever he may make of the various problems it gives rise to, and Luther and Calvin can hardly be said to have neglected it. They do not notice, however, or else do not care to exploit, the possibility of elucidating Paul’s argument by a simple adjustment of terminology. Paul’s denial that salvation comes by “the works of the Law” can be restated as a denial that it comes by the “Covenant of Works” expressed in the conditions of the Sinai Covenant. In contradistinction, the covenant with Abraham can be clearly stated in terms of contrasting covenants. It is this mere rephrasing of the argument which constitutes the point of departure of a distinctive Covenant or Federal Theology.
- John S. Coolidge, The Pauline Renaissance in England, quoted in Mark W. Karlberg, Covenant Theology in Reformed Perspective (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock), 78-79.