“And when he comes, he will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment: concerning sin, because they do not believe in me; concerning righteousness, because I go to the Father, and you will see me no longer; concerning judgment, because the ruler of this world is judged.” – John 16:8-11
Article “Why is Theonomy unbiblical?” by Pastor Tom Hicks – original source – https://pastortomhicks.com/2020/11/17/why-is-theonomy-unbiblical/amp/
Update – May 18, 2022 Podcast: starts at the 5:51 minute mark – https://www.doctrineanddevotion.com/podcast/tom-hicks-1
Before critiquing theonomy, we need a good definition. Some people today who use the word “theonomy” don’t mean anything more than “God’s law” because the etimology of the word theonomy is “theos” which means God, and “nomos” which means law. They only want to affirm that God’s law is supreme over man’s law. And they’re right about that. God’s transcendent moral law is the norm that norms all norms. Governmental laws should always be consistent with God’s law and human law must never violate God’s law.
But in this post, I’ll be using the word “theonomy” in a more technical sense, which is rooted in the historical usage of the term. Theonomy, in the technical sense, teaches that the Old Covenant judicial laws are the universal moral standard of civil law for all Gentile nations. The basic presupposition of theonomy is that God gave the judicial law to the nation of Israel as a universal law of perfect justice for all nations because it is a perfect reflection of God’s own moral character. Some of the most prominent early proponents of this kind of theonomy include Greg Bahnsen, Rousas Rushdoony and Gary North.
I’m convinced that theonomy is unbiblical for a number of reasons.
1. Theonomy has a flawed hermeneutic of Old Testament priority.
Theonomy arrives at its conclusions by insisting that particular Old Testament laws persist, unless they are specifically abrogated by the New Testament. But this reads the Bible improperly. Theonomy’s hermeneutic is consistent with paedobaptism, which says that since the New Testament does not abrogate the Old Testament inclusion of infants, then infants must be given the sign of baptism. Theonomy is also consistent with the Old Testament priority hermeneutic of dispensationalism, which teaches that the promises God made for Israel cannot be typologically fulfilled in Christ and the church, but must be literally fulfilled in national Israel. But theonomy’s hermeneutic isn’t consistent with the hermeneutic of New Testament priority.
It is true that earlier revelation is vital for understanding the context of later revelation. In that sense, earlier revelation is logically prior to later revelation. But sound hermeneutical principles recognize that later revelation has interpretive priority over earlier revelation. So when later Old Testament texts explain earlier parts of the Old Testament, we should pay close attention to what the later texts say and allow them to explain and draw out implications of earlier Old Testament texts, making explicit what was only previously implicit. Similarly, when the New Testament explains Old Testament passages of Scripture, the New Testament has priority of interpretation over the Old Testament.
If the New Testament says an Old Testament passage has a particular meaning, we should assign that meaning to the Old Testament passage. The same is true of New Testament letters, which explain the earlier life and work of Jesus Christ in the Gospels.
This is nothing other than what Augustine taught when he said, “The New is in the Old concealed; the Old is in the New revealed.” The light of revelation is brighter as we move toward the end of the Bible (Louis Berkhof, Principles of Interpretation, pp. 54, 133, 135, 137). Berkhof says, “The New Testament is implicit in the Old, so the Old is explicit in the new” (135). And “The more perfect revelation of the New Testament illumines the pages of the Old” (137-138).
This isn’t really any different from the way we read any book by a single author. We allow the later parts of a book to interpret the earlier parts of the book. Orthodox theology is rooted in the idea that the one true God authored the whole of the Scriptures, and that we should pay more attention to His intended meaning, in light of His explanation of His own Word, than what we believe the human authors alone may have meant when they wrote.
2. Theonomy does not understand that Gentile nations are not and never were under the Old Covenant.
That means the laws peculiar to the Old Covenant do not bind Gentile nations. Gentile nations are under natural law, which is the work of the moral law written on the hearts of all human beings. Romans 2:14 says, “For when the Gentiles, who do not have the law, by nature, do what the law requires, they are a law to themselves, even though they do not have the law. They show that the work of the law is written on their hearts.”
When God judged the Gentile nations in the Old Testament, He never judged them for violating Old Covenant judicial law. Rather, He judged them for violating His moral law, as summarized in the Ten Commandments (Jerermiah 46-51; Ezekiel 25-32; Amos 1-2; Obadiah; Jonah; Nahum; Habakkuk 2 – a taunt song against the Babylonians for violating God’s moral law; Zephaniah 2).
3. Theonomy doesn’t properly account for the fact that the Old Covenant as a whole, together with all of its laws, has been abolished.
Numerous passages of Scripture teach that the Old Covenant has been fulfilled and abolished with the coming of Christ and the establishment of the New Covenant.
To be clear, the moral law, which is summarized in the Ten Commandments, has not been abolished. The moral law is rooted in God’s own eternal moral character and is part of the image of God in human beings. Moral aspects of Old Covenant law can never be abolished because they are rooted in nature, not merely in a covenant. But the covenantal positive laws of the Old Covenant have been abolished. Theonomy does not properly account for this fact.
Rich Barcellos correctly notes, “The New Testament clearly abrogates the whole Old Covenant, including the Decalogue, as it functioned within the Old Covenant, and yet borrows from its documents as the basis for New Covenant ethics (see for instance 1 Cor. 9:9-10; 14:34; 2 Cor 13:1; Eph 6:2-3, and many other texts)” (In Defense of the Decalogue, p. 68).
4. Theonomy doesn’t acknowledge the existence of positive law in contrast to moral or natural law.
This is related to numbers 2 and 3 above. Natural law is law that people know innately. Romans 2:14-15 is clear that God writes the work of His natural law on the hearts of all men, and Romans 2:21-24 show that natural law is summarized in the Ten Commandmens. Natural law is nothing other than the reflection of God’s moral character in human beings who are made in His image.
Positive law, on the other hand, is law that God had to posit by way of special revelation in a particular covenant. No one would know that they ought to obey positive law, unless it had been revealed to them in a biblical covenant. Romans 2:26 distinguishes circumcision from “the law” about which Paul has been talking.
To give you an example of the distinction between natural/moral and positive law, consider Adam in the Garden of Eden. Adam knew by nature not to worship false gods, not to steal, not to murder, etc. He knew these things because he was made in the image of God. But Adam would never have known not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil if God had not revealed and command that law to him in the covenant of works.
To give you another example, Abraham knew by nature that it was wrong to lie to Pharoah about Sarah being his wife. God never had to tell Abraham that lying was wrong because all images of God know it’s wrong to lie, even if they suppress that truth in unrighteousness. But Abraham would never have known that he had to be circumcised except for the fact that God revealed that to him and commanded him to be circumcised in the covenant of circumicision. Natural law is known innately, but positive law would never be known apart from covenantal revelation.
Natural or moral law transcends all covenants. It’s immutably rooted in the nature and character of God and also in human nature. Now, certainly human beings suppress their knowledge of natural law, which is why we need Scripture to reassert and clarify it. But even fallen human beings are not completely ignorant of natural law. Positive law, on the other hand, is covenantal, must be specially revealed to be known, and serves a particular purpose within the covenant in which it is given. When covenants change, positive laws change, but moral or natural law does not.
Theonomy does not grasp this crucial distinction. The judicial laws of the Old Covenant are not transcendent moral or natural law, but positive laws, which God commanded in the Old Covenant for a particular reason.
5. Theonomy does not account for the fact that the judicial laws of Israel were only to be practiced in the land of Canaan.
It’s impossible to separate Israel’s judicial law from the land of Canaan. The Old Covenant law was given to the Old Covenant people, who were to keep the law in the Old Covenant land. Deuteronomy 4:14 says, “And the LORD commanded me at that time to teach you statues and rules that you might do them in the land that you are going over to possess.”
To give one example of this, consider the law of the parapet. Deuteronomy 22:8 says, “When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof, that you may not bring the guilt of blood upon your house, if anyone should fall from it.” This judicial law, which is based on blood-guilt, only makes sense because the land of Israel is holy. According to the Old Covenant, blood-guilt defiles the land and results in the expulsion of the people. Deuteronomy 19:10 warns that if blood guilt comes upon the land, the guilt of blood shall be shed upon the people.
While there is certainly an element of perpetual moral law (general equity, “do not murder”) in the law of the parapet, the law itself could only be practiced in the land of Canaan, which is the case for all Old Covenant judicial law.
6. Theonomy misunderstands the reason for the death penalties in Old Covenant judicial law.
Before discussing the death penalty in Old Covenant judicial law, it’s important to understand that the covenant of common grace establishes the death penalty for murder. The death penalty for murder is part of universal moral law. In Genesis 9:6, the Noahic covenant of common grace says, “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image.” That is a transcendent moral principle: the punishment must fit the crime. It is lex talionis, which is the “law of the same,” often expressed as “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” It refers to weights and measures in justice. So, the death penalty for murder is moral law.
But other Old Testament death penalties are tied to Old Covenant worship. The term “devoted to destruction” or “devoted to the ban” (Hebrew: cherem) involves the death penalty, and it is connected to the purity of the land, holy war, and Old Covenant worship.
Deuteronomy 13:12-16 says:
“If you hear in one of your cities, which the Lord your God is giving you to dwell there, that certain worthless fellows have gone out among you and have drawn away the inhabitants of their city, saying, ‘Let us go and serve other gods,’ which you have not known, then you shall inquire and make search and ask diligently. And behold, if it be true and certain that such an abomination has been done among you, you shall surely put the inhabitants of that city to the sword, devoting it to destruction, all who are in it and its cattle, with the edge of the sword. You shall gather all its spoil into the midst of its open square and burn the city and all its spoil with fire, as a whole burnt offering to the Lord your God. It shall be a heap forever. It shall not be built again.”
This is saying that if a city comes under the influence of idolaters, there is to be a careful inquiry, and if it’s found to be true that the city is under the influence of idolaters, then the whole city is to be put to death, together with the cattle.
This is not simply a matter of moral justice. Verse 16 says that the city becomes a “whole burnt offering to the Lord your God.” It’s an offering to God. This is a law about holy war and Israel’s possession of the holy land. It’s a kind of ceremonial purification.
It’s also a foreshadowing of Judgment Day. The New Testament seems to teach that the death penalties of the Old Covenant are really types of eternal condemnation.
Hebrews 10:28 says:
“Anyone who has set aside the law of Moses dies without mercy on the evidence of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment, do you think, will be deserved by the one who has trampled underfoot the Son of God, and has profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and has outraged the Spirit of grace? For we know him who said, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay.”
In other words, under the Old Covenant, the penalty for breaking the law was physical death. But the corresponding New Testament teaching is eternal condemnation for those without Christ.
So, the death penalties of the Old Testament are associated with Israel’s unique place in redemptive history. I’m convinced that scholars have shown that all of the death penalties of the Old Covenant are based on the distinctive purposes of the Old Covenant. I recommend Vern Poythress’s book, The Shadow of Christ in the Law of Moses, which illustrates this very well. I don’t agree with everything in that book, but it is a good resource to have.
Due to their special character, therefore, it would be unjust to try to apply Old Covenant death penalties in a Gentile nation. It was perfectly just for Israel to put people to death for all sorts of reasons because God has the right to command the death of any sinner, and He commanded the death of many sinners via the Old Covenant for reasons that were unique to that covenant. But we have no right to implement such penalties in Gentile nations.
Furthermore, the death penalties of the Old Covenant are reflective of the fact that it is a “work for the right to inheritance” covenant. Leviticus 18:5 says, “You shall therefore keep my statutes and my rules; if a person does them, he shall live by them: I am the LORD.” But the new covenant gives the inheritance by grace, not by works. Galatians 3:12-13 denies this works principle under the gospel, “But the law is not of faith, rather, ‘the one who does them shall live by them.’ Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us — for it is written, ‘Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.’”
7. Theonomy does not account for the fact that the Old Covenant law was intentionally severe to preserve the line of promise.
The nation of Israel was a largely unbelieving nation. The people needed a severe legal system to chasten the people and to preserve them as a nation until Christ would come from them. The severity of Old Covenant judicial law is especially evident in the liberal use of the death penalty. The death penalty was prescribed for false-worship and apostasy (Deut 13:6-11; 17:5), blasphemy (Lev 24:10-16, 23), sabbath-breaking (Num 15:31-36), rebellious sons (Deut 21:18-21), fornication (Deut 22:20-23), adultery (Lev 20:10-11), homosexuality (Lev 20:13) and many other sins. These are very heavy penalties.
Galatians 3:19 explains one of the reasons for the such laws: “Why then the law? It was added because of transgressions, until the offspring should come to whom the promise had been made.” Similarly, Galatians 3:24-25 says, “So, then the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian.”
Scripture is saying that the severe Old Covenant law was given because of the sins of the people of Israel. It was given to them as a nation, to chasten them, and to act as a deterrent for outward sin, and to keep them from destroying themselves, until Christ came from them.
The Jerusalem council discussed the fact that some wanted the church to practice circumcision. Acts 15:10 says, “Now, therefore, why are you putting God to the test by placing a yoke on the neck of the disciples that neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear?” The covenant of circumcision, and the Old Covenant as a whole, was a heavy legal yoke. Those who try to impose it upon Christians or Gentile nations are heaping a heavy burden upon them. Now that Christ has come, there is no reason for it. The yoke of the Old Covenant has been fulfilled and abolished with the coming of Christ.
8. In each case, when the New Testament applies one of the judicial laws of the Old Covenant, it applies the law’s general equity to the church, and never to the government of a Gentile nation.
This is extremely important because of the hermeneutical principle of New Testament priority. The New Testament teaches us how to interpret and use the Old Testament, which means we need to pay attention to how the New Testament applies Old Covenant judicial laws. You will never find a single New Testament example of an Old Covenant judicial law being applied to a Gentile government.
For example, 1 Timothy 5:17-18 says, “Let the elders who rule well be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in preaching and teaching. For the Scripture says, ‘You shall not muzzle an ox when it treads out the grain,’ and ‘the laborer deserves his wages.” “Do not muzzle the ox while it treads out the grain” is a judicial law that comes from Deuteronomy 25:4. But here, Paul applies the law’s general equity (do not steal) to paying pastors properly in the church. He does not apply it to a Gentile government.
Another example comes from 1 Corinthians 5:13, where Paul is discussing church discipline, and he says, “Purge the evil person from among you.” That’s a judicial law from Deuteronomy 13:5, 17:7, 12, and many other places. In the Old Covenant, “purging the evil person from among you” referred to the death penalty. But in the New Covenant, that judicial law is applied to church discipline, not to the civil death penalty.
So, if we allow the New Testament to teach us how to interpret Old Covenant judicial laws, then we will think of their general equity first as applying to the church, not primarily to Gentile civil governments.
9. To sum up, theonomy’s central mistake is believing that God gave the judicial law of Israel as a universal norm of societal justice for all nations.
Certainly, the moral law of the Old Covenant is a universal norm for all nations. And we ought to use the Old Testament to help us understand God’s moral law. But the positive laws of the Old Covenant had many different functions according to Scripture, and all of them were bound to the unique objectives of the Old Covenant.
As we have seen, the judicial law was tied to the land, to ceremonial worship, and to the preservation of Christ’s line of promise. Some of the judicial laws were simply designed to create a distinct culture for Israel that separated them from the nations. Others were about preserving family lines for the sake of property and inheritance. But all of the positive laws of the Old Covenant were related to the typological character of the Old Covenant and/or to its unique cultural situation and place in redemptive history.
In conclusion, theonomy, in the technical sense of the term is not a biblical idea. Scripture itself refutes the theonomic position, such that, in fact, theonomy is not in favor of God’s law at all, but adds to the good law of God positive covenantal precepts that were designed to expire with the coming of the Lord Jesus.
While this article has been a critique of Theonomy, and I have not outlined a positive biblical theology of civil government, the Second London Baptist Confession of Faith, chapter 24, provides a wonderful framework for civil government. I wrote an exposition of that chapter here: What is the role of civil government?
For another good resource on Theonomy see this article by Brandon Adams.
Article by Dr. Michael Kruger “How the 2020 Presidential Election Helps Us Understand the Formation of the New Testament Canon” – original source: https://www.michaeljkruger.com/how-the-2020-presidential-election-helps-us-understand-the-formation-of-the-new-testament-canon/
OK, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that there may not be two more unrelated topics than the 2020 presidential election and the formation of the NT canon. Of all the things that we can learn from the trials and tribulations of this election cycle (and there are many), surely how the New Testament was formed is not one of them!
So, how in the world do these two things connect?
In brief, I think the presidential election cycle is a remarkably helpful analogy for understanding the different definitions of canon, and how those definitions help us understand the date of the canon. Let me try to explain.
When Do We Have a Canon?
Let’s begin with one of the most hotly debated questions in the study of the New Testament canon: What is the date of the New Testament canon? Or, when do we first see it come into existence?
While that may seem like a fairly straightforward question, the massive disagreements among modern scholars shows that it is not. It all depends on the definition of canon that you are using. In order to clear this up, I have argued elsewhere (see here) that there are really three different definitions of canon:
1. Exclusive definition: We have a “canon” when there is a formal, broad consensus over a final, closed list of books. On that definition, we don’t have a canon until about the fourth century.
2. Functional definition: We have a “canon” when New Testament books are functioning as Scripture, and being used as Scripture, even though there are ongoing debates about certain books. On that definition, we would certainly have a canon by the second century.
3. Ontological definition: We have a “canon” when God has finished giving all the books to his church that he intended to give. This definition looks at canon from a divine perspective, if you will. On that definition, we would have a canon when the final book of the New Testament was written, which would be in the first century. Of course, the church would not yet be aware of which books are in the canon—that would only be known at a later point as the church evaluates and examines books. Nevertheless, a canon really existed in the first century whether the church knew it or not.
When Do We Have a President?
So, turning to the recent election, let’s ask a similar question: What is the date when we have a new president? Or, when does a person become the president?
Well, again, it all depends on the way you are defining your terms. And here was see an impressive analogy with the three definitions of canon used above. If we were to apply those definitions to the presidency, it might look something like this:
1. Exclusive definition: We have a president when he is officially installed. And it’s official because the states have certified the election and the electoral college has voted. On that definition, we don’t have a new president until Jan 20th.
2. Functional definition: We have a president when people recognize him as the new president, treat him as the president, and he begins (at least in some ways) to function like the president. On that definition, we have a new president (functionally) when someone is regarded as the president-elect. This usually happens within a week after the election and is largely due to the perception that this individual has won, even though it has not been formalized.
3. Ontological definition: We have a new president the moment the last vote is cast and the polls are closed. Even though we didn’t know it at the time, a president had already been chosen on Nov 3rd. Even though it would take a week (or more!) to discover who that was, it was factually and objectively decided on election day itself.
How Does This Help?
So, why is it important that we understand these different definitions? Because they help us navigate the inevitable conflict and disagreement over such matters. If there is disagreement over when we have a canon (and there is!), we might discover we have more common ground than we think. It may just be that we are emphasizing different truths.
For example, some may want to emphasize that there was not absolute unity over a 27-book canon in the early church. It took time for that unity to be achieved. For folks with such a concern, the exclusive definition of canon will be emphasized.
Others may want to emphasize that NT books were functioning like a canon from a very early time, despite the fact that a full consensus had not yet been achieved. For those with such a concern, the functional definition will likely be emphasized.
In a sense, then, they are both correct (given their respective definitions). And they both would be wrong if they insisted their definition was the only way to look at it.
Likewise, conflict in a presidential election can perhaps be navigated more effectively if one keeps different definitions in mind. For some, it is important to insist that we don’t really have a new president until the final, official certification and inaugural installation. This would be a particularly important point to make if there were concerns over voter fraud or election integrity.
For others, it is important to acknowledge that elections give us a new president, in some sense, long before inauguration day. And that new president typically functions, at least in part, like a president before he is sworn in (intelligence briefings, consultations with foreign leaders, etc.).
In sum, we don’t get a new president all at once. We get a new president in stages.
So, it is with the New Testament canon. We should not forget that the canon is a process, and therefore it should not be artificially restricted to a single moment in time. It is less like a dot, and more like a line. If so, then maybe we should consider a shift in terminology. It might be time to move beyond the language of the “date” of canon, and focus more on the “stage” of canon.
Written by Dr. Keith Mathison, professor of systematic theology at Reformation Bible College – (original source – https://reformationbiblecollege.org/blog/the-five-solas)
A few years ago, I ran across a comic strip in which one of the figures says, “Those who don’t study history are doomed to repeat it. Yet those who do study history are doomed to stand by helplessly while everyone else repeats it.” This comic is a humorous, albeit somewhat cynical, play on the well-known quote by American philosopher George Santayana (1863–1952), who wrote: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” It is a well-known and widely used quote because there is much truth in it.
The truth that Santayana grasped is abundantly illustrated in the history of the modern evangelical church. We are a people who have forgotten our roots, and in many cases, we really don’t seem to care. The church exists in a world of rapidly changing technology, a world in which almost everyone has been assimilated into the incessant chatter of social media and real-time updates on everything from world politics to what your friend had for breakfast this morning. If we are to be relevant, or so we think, we too must be a people of the new and the now.
The consequences of such ideas in the church are there for all to see. Numerous polls indicate widespread biblical and theological illiteracy. Numerous professing Christians do not grasp the contents of Scripture. Those who have read the Bible often have no idea what it means and how the various parts go together. A recent study sponsored by Ligonier Ministries indicates that a large percentage of professing Christians unwittingly hold views regarding the Trinity, Jesus Christ, sin, and salvation that are technically heretical.
We are not in a good place, but we are not the first to be in such a position. The people of Israel forgot the past with disastrous consequences. The medieval church forgot the past with disastrous consequences. But what do you do when you realize you’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere along your journey? You go back and seek to find the correct path. We should not view the past as something that is gone and therefore useless. We should look at the past more like the way someone on the second floor of a building looks at the foundation. The foundation was built before the remaining structure. It was built in the past. But the foundation is not something that can be discarded without catastrophic results.
In this article, I want to look briefly at some of the old paths, some foundational doctrines—namely, the five solas of the Reformation (sola Scriptura, sola fide, sola gratia, solus Christus, soli Deo gloria). When the medieval church lost her way, the rediscovery of these fundamental doctrines during the Reformation helped the church regain her footing.
Sola Scriptura
What do we mean when we say that we believe in sola Scriptura, or Scripture alone? Like all of the solas, a proper understanding of the doctrine requires a certain amount of context—both historical and theological. In the first place, we need to understand that the Reformation doctrine of sola Scriptura arose within the context of the late medieval Roman Catholic church and its teaching. It was a response to perceived error in the teaching of the church. So what was it that the Reformers found objectionable?
The dispute with Rome was not over the inspiration or inerrancy of Scripture. Rome affirmed both doctrines. The problem, instead, was due to the fact that over the course of many centuries, Rome had gradually adopted a view of the relation between the church, Scripture, and tradition that effectively placed final authority somewhere other than God. Tradition was conceived of as a second source of revelation, and the pope and Roman magisterium were viewed as the final authority in matters of faith and practice.
The Reformers wanted to call the church back to a view of the relation between Scripture and tradition that was found in the early church. They believed that the Bible itself taught such a view. The Reformation doctrine of sola Scriptura, or the Reformation doctrine of the relation between Scripture and tradition, affirms that Scripture is to be understood as the sole source of divine revelation, the only inspired, infallible, final, and authoritative norm of faith and practice. Why? Because Scripture is “God-breathed” (2 Tim. 3:16). In other words, what Scripture says, God says. There is, therefore, a basic ontological difference between Scripture (God’s Word) and any creaturely words. Scripture is metaphysically unique. Scripture is to be interpreted in and by the church, and it is to be interpreted within the hermeneutical context of the rule of faith (Acts 15).
Among evangelicals, there is a common misunderstanding of sola Scriptura that views the Bible not only as the sole final authority, but as the sole authority altogether. In other words, the church, the ecumenical creeds, the confessions of faith, are largely dismissed even as secondary authorities. It is the “No creed but Christ” or “No creed but the Bible” attitude so prevalent in the church today. Of course, those who assert such slogans fail to realize that a statement such as “No creed but Christ” is itself a creed—a statement of what one believes.
Those who espouse this misunderstanding of the Reformation doctrine are often unaware that it is not the view of the early church and it is not the view of the magisterial Reformers. In fact, where one most often encounters this view historically is in the writings of various heretics (e.g., the Arians of the early church, the Socinians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, etc.). This bad version of biblicism has been the source of innumerable false doctrines.
Sola Fide
Often referred to as “the material cause” of the Reformation, the doctrine of justification sola fide (by faith alone) was a key point of debate between the Protestant Reformers and the Roman Catholic Church in the sixteenth century, and it has remained a point of disagreement ever since. Martin Luther and his followers expressed the importance of the doctrine of justification by faith alone by teaching that it is “the article by which the church stands or falls.” Was Luther correct in affirming the central importance of this doctrine? In order to answer this question, we must grasp the meaning of justification itself as well as the differences between the Protestant and Roman Catholic doctrines.
The Roman Catholic doctrine of justification is most clearly expressed in the Decree Concerning Justification produced in the Sixth Session of the Council of Trent in 1547. According to this Decree, fallen human beings are “made just” through the “laver of regeneration.” In short, the instrumental cause of justification (being made just) is baptism. Justification is said to involve remission of sins and “also the sanctification and renewal of the inward man.” Justification is not by faith alone, according to the Council of Trent, because hope and charity (i.e. love) must be added.
The Reformers rejected the idea that justification means “making just” by a faith that is not alone and that it is accomplished through the instrument of baptism. But why? In order to answer that question, we must have some understanding of the basic issues underlying the debate. The first point to observe is that God is absolutely just and righteous, and He will judge the world in righteousness. So, what is the problem with this? The problem is that although God is perfectly just and righteous, we are not. We are fallen, sinful, unjust, and unrighteous creatures (Rom. 3:9–18). This raises an infinitely serious question for each of us: How can I, an unjust sinner, stand before our infinitely righteous and holy God at the final judgment?
Rome offered one answer. In order for a person to be declared righteous by God, he or she first has to be made righteous by God. As we saw above, justification for Rome means to be “made just.” The following is something of an oversimplification of a much more complicated doctrine, but at its heart, the Roman doctrine of justification includes the idea of sanctification and renewal. The grounds of justification, the basis upon which the declaration of righteousness is made, therefore, is an infused righteousness. It is a grace that is infused, or poured, into our souls. If a person cooperates with this infused grace, he or she is renewed and sanctified. The person cooperating with grace, therefore, has an inherent righteousness. One can lose this state of grace through mortal sin. However, if this happens, the sacrament of penance is a means by which a person can be restored to a state of justification.
According to the Reformers, there were serious problems with the Roman doctrine. In the first place, the standard of God’s judgment is absolutely perfect righteousness (Matt. 5:48). He cannot require less without denying Himself and His own holiness. A person cannot be declared righteous and survive the judgment of God, therefore, on the grounds of anything less than perfection. Since the fall of Adam and Eve, however, only one man has ever lived a life of perfect righteousness, and that One is Jesus Christ (Heb. 4:15). The Reformers argued, therefore, in opposition to Rome’s idea of infusion for a doctrine of double imputation. To impute something means to reckon it legally. The doctrine of double imputation means that our sin is imputed to Christ and His righteousness is imputed to us (2 Cor. 5:21).
It is also important to note here that for Rome, justification is by faith, but it is not by faith alone. For Rome, faith is necessary, but faith is not sufficient. Recall that for Rome, the instrumental cause of justification is baptism. The Reformers argued, on the contrary, that the sole instrument of justification is faith, and that even this faith is a gift of God. It is by grace (Rom. 3:28; 5:1; Eph. 2:8).
The Reformed doctrine of justification is clearly expressed in the classic Reformed confessions and catechisms of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The Westminster Larger Catechism, for example, provides a concise statement of the biblical doctrine:
Question 70: What is justification?
Answer: Justification is an act of God’s free grace unto sinners, in which he pardons all their sins, accepts and accounts their persons righteous in his sight; not for any thing wrought in them, or done by them, but only for the perfect obedience and full satisfaction of Christ, by God imputed to them, and received by faith alone.
Sola Gratia
In the early fifth century, a theological controversy occurred that would forever shape the thinking of the church. In his Confessions, Augustine of Hippo wrote in the form of a prayer the words: “Give what Thou commandest and command what Thou will.” The British monk Pelagius was upset by these words, believing that they would give Christians an excuse for not obeying God. Pelagius believed that if God commanded something then man was naturally (apart from grace) able to do it. He believed that this was possible because he also believed that Adam’s sin had only affected Adam. All human beings are born in the same state in which Adam was born, capable of either obeying God or disobeying him. If they obey, their good works merit salvation. If not, they deserve God’s punishment.
Augustine, on the other hand, taught that Adam’s sin had dramatically impacted all of his descendants. The Reformed churches followed Augustine in their rejection of Pelagianism. The Westminster Confession of Faith, for example, has a clear explanation of the doctrine of original sin. By our first parents’ sin:
They fell from their original righteousness and communion, with God, and so became dead in sin, and wholly defiled in all the parts and faculties of soul and body. They being the root of all mankind, the guilt of this sin was imputed, and the same death in sin and corrupted nature conveyed, to all their posterity descending from them by ordinary generation. From this original corruption, whereby we are utterly indisposed, disabled, and made opposite to all good, and wholly inclined to all evil, do proceed all actual transgressions (VI.1–4).
Since the fall, all human beings are born in this fallen state with their will (one of the faculties of soul and body) in bondage to sin. Because of the fall, we are born spiritually dead, unable to choose or will the good (Rom. 3:10–12; 5:6; Eph. 2:1).
Although Pelagianism was condemned as a heresy at a number of councils, including the third ecumenical council in 431, it has raised its head in various forms ever since. By the late medieval period, the Roman Catholic Church had fallen into a type of semi-Pelagianism. The justification of the sinner was seen as a kind of synergistic, co-operative work between God and the sinner. The doctrine of sola gratia was the Protestant response to this.
The Protestant doctrine of sola gratia is found in all of the major Reformed confessions. It underlies everything said regarding the state of the fallen sinner, election, calling, regeneration, conversion, justification, and more. The point that the Reformers wanted to make in the sixteenth century is the same point that Augustine made in the fifth. We are not saved by pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps. The fallen sinner is not a drowning man who merely needs to do his part by reaching out to grab the life preserver tossed by God. No, the sinner is in a far more serious condition. He cannot grab a life preserver because he is not merely drowning. He is a cold, dead, lifeless corpse on the bottom of the sea. If he is to be saved, he will not be able to cooperate with God. His salvation will be an act of pure grace, and grace alone, on the part of God (Eph. 2:8).
Solus Christus
When we discuss the Reformation slogan solus Christus, it is important to understand the precise point of dispute. The Reformers did not reject the Roman Catholic Church’s doctrine of the person of Christ. Nicene Trinitarianism and Chalcedonian Christology were not the issue, and the theologians of the Reformed churches readily used the biblical and theological arguments of patristic and medieval theologians to defend traditional Trinitarianism and Christology.
The problem, then, was not the person of Christ. The problem was the work of Christ. The debate centered on the sacramental system that Rome had constructed, a system in which the grace of Christ was mediated to the people through an elaborate system of priests and sacramental works. Through this sacramental system, the Roman church effectively controlled the Christian’s life from birth (baptism) to death (extreme unction) and even beyond (masses for the dead).
Martin Luther and other Reformers realized that this elaborate system of works obscured the person and work of Christ as it was so clearly taught in Scripture. Luther argued that the papacy, through this sacramental system, had usurped the prerogatives of Christ, making itself the dispenser of God’s grace. Christ alone, and not the church, is our only Mediator (Westminster Larger Catechism Q. 181). As Huldrych Zwingli proclaimed, “Christ is the only way of salvation of all who were, are now, or shall be.” In Article 54 of his Sixty-Seven Articles (1523), Zwingli explicitly contrasts the Roman sacramentalist view with solus Christus: “Christ has borne all our pain and travail. Hence, whoever attributes to works of penance what is Christ’s alone, errs and blasphemes God.” The Westminster Confession of Faith affirms that Christ alone is the object of our faith: “the principal acts of saving faith are accepting, receiving, and resting upon Christ alone for justification, sanctification, and eternal life, by virtue of the covenant of grace” (XIV.2).
The Reformers and their heirs were intent on proclaiming Jesus Christ and Him crucified (1 Cor. 2:2). They recognized that because Christ is the only way of salvation for man, He is central to the message of the Bible (Acts 4:12). Their books were Christ-centered. Their sermons were Christ-centered. Their worship was Christ-centered. All of this was in stark contrast to the man-centered religion of late medieval Roman Catholicism. If we are to see a new Reformation in our day, we too must believe and confess the biblical doctrine of solus Christus.
Soli Deo Gloria
Soli Deo gloria is not precisely parallel to the other four solas because in one sense, it is both the beginning and the end of the other four. The Holy Spirit inspired the Scriptures to the glory of God alone. Christ humbled Himself to the point of death and was raised and exalted to the right hand of the Father to the glory of God alone. Grace and mercy are offered to rebellious sinners to the glory of God alone. Justification is by faith alone to the glory of God alone. Soli Deo gloria, therefore, is central.
It is important to understand that when we talk about God’s glory, we are talking first and foremost about an attribute of God. As the Westminster Confession of Faith explains: “God hath all life, glory, goodness, blessedness, in and of Himself.” He is the God of glory (Acts 7:2). He also manifests His glory in the works of creation and redemption, most significantly in the person and work of Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory (1 Cor. 2:8).
God also glorifies Himself in and through the church. We as believers are called to do whatever we do to the glory of God (1 Cor. 10:31). We are to use our gifts to serve one another “in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 4:10–11). The Psalms are filled from beginning to end with ascriptions of praise to the glory of God, and this demonstrates where the focus of the church’s worship should be. Worship does not exist for our entertainment. Worship exists for the glory of God alone.
A rediscovery of the five solas of the Reformation is an important part of getting back on the right path.
In the New Testament, God established two sacraments (or ordinances) for the Church, namely baptism and the Lord’s Supper. The following is the transcript of a brief excerpt from part 4 of Dr. Robert Godfrey’s newly released series from Ligonier Ministries entitled “The Necessity of Reforming the Church”:
“I think if there is one ‘sacrament’ we have tended to invent in our own time it’s the sacrament of music. In many churches there’s an awful lot of time spent singing to bring us ‘close to God.’ Now I am all in favor of singing. I think music can be very helpful and very powerful. But music is not a sacrament. Its not where God has planted His promise to bring grace to us. Music is not primarily God’s movement to us, which is what sacraments do, but music is our movement to God, bringing our praise, our thanks, our glorification to Him. And again, we have to be careful not to confuse things – not to think that by my singing stuff I really, really like I have a transcendent experience of God – that’s sacramental. No, we sing as an intelligent act of a rational soul to bring praise and glory to the Creator.”