The Church Fathers on Justification

Four quotes:

Tertullian (c. 155-230): God will “impute righteousness to those who believe in him, and make the just live through him, and declare the Gentiles to be his children through faith.”

Basil of Caesarea (330-379): “The is perfect and pure boasting in God, when one is not proud on account of his own righteousness but knows that he is indeed unworthy of the true righteousness and is justified soley by faith in Christ.”

Marius Victorinus: “We know that a man is not justified by the works of the law but through faith and the faith of Jesus Christ… It is faith alone that gives justification and sanctification.”

John Chrysostom (c. 347-407): God’s grace “has allowed Him that did no wrong to be punished for those who had done wrong… Him that was righteousness itself, ‘He made sin,’ that is allowed Him to be condemned as a sinner, as one cursed to die, so that we might be, not just ‘righteous’ but ‘righteousness,’ indeed the righteousness of God.”

Sola Fide & Sola Gratia

Dr. R. C. Sproul, from the book, ‘Willing to Believe’, pages 24-26:

“Evangelicals are so called because of their commitment to the biblical and historical doctrine of justification by faith alone. Because the Reformers saw SOLA FIDE as central and essential to the biblical gospel, the term evangelical was applied to them. Modern evangelicals in great numbers embrace the SOLA FIDE of the Reformation, but have jettisoned the SOLA GRATIA that undergirded it. Packer and Johnston assert:

‘Justification by faith only’ is a truth that needs interpretation. The principle of SOLA FIDE is not rightly understood till it is seen as anchored in the broader principle of SOLA GRATIA. What is the source and status of faith? Is it the God-given means whereby the God-given justification is received, or is it a condition of justification which is left to man to fulfill? Is it a part of God’s gift of salvation, or is it man’s own contribution to salvation? Is our salvation wholly of God, or does it ultimately depend on something that we do for ourselves? Those who say the latter (as the Arminians later did) thereby deny man’s utter helplessness in sin, and affirm that a form of semi-Pelagianism is true after all. It is no wonder, then, that later Reformed theology condemned Arminianism as being in principle a return to Rome (because in effect it turned faith into a meritorious work) and a betrayal of the Reformation (because it denied the sovereignty of God in saving sinners, which was the deepest religious and theological principle of the Reformers’ thought). Arminianism was, indeed, in Reformed eyes a renunciation of New Testament Christianity in favour of New Testament Judaism; for to rely on oneself for faith is no different in principle from relying on oneself for works, and the one is as un-Christian and anti-Christian as the other. In the light of what Luther says to Erasmus, there is no doubt that he would have endorsed this judgment.

I must confess that the first time I read this paragraph, I blinked. On the surface it seems to be a severe indictment of Arminianism. Indeed it could hardly be more severe than to speak of it as ‘un-Christian’ or ‘anti-Christian.’

Does this mean that Packer and Johnston believe Arminians are not Christians?

Not necessarily. Every Christian has errors of some sort in his thinking. Our theological views are fallible. Any distortion in our thought, any deviation from pure, biblical categories may be loosely deemed ‘un-Christian’ or ‘anti-Christian.’ The fact that our thought contains un-Christian elements does not demand the inference that we are therefore not Christians at all. I agree with Packer and Johnston that Arminianism contains un-Christian elements in it and that their view of the relationship between faith and regeneration is fundamentally un-Christian.

Is this error so egregious that it is fatal to salvation? People often ask if I believe Arminians are Christians? I usually answer, ‘Yes, barely.’ They are Christians by what we call A FELICITOUS INCONSISTENCY. What is this inconsistency? Arminians affirm the doctrine of justification by faith alone. They agree that we have no meritorious work that counts toward our justification, that our justification rests solely on the righteousness and merit of Christ, that sola fide means justification is by Christ alone, and that we must trust not in our own works, but in Christ’s work for our salvation. In all this they differ from Rome on crucial points. Packer and Johnston note that later Reformed theology, however, condemned Arminianism as a betrayal of the Reformation and in principle as a return to Rome. They point out that Arminianism ‘in effect turned faith into a meritorious work.’ We notice that this charge is qualified by the words ‘in effect.’

Usually Arminians deny that their faith is a meritorious work. If they were to insist that faith is a meritorious work, they would be explicitly denying justification by faith alone. The Arminian acknowledges that faith is something a person does. It is a work, though not a meritorious one. Is it a good work? Certainly it is not a bad work. It is good for a person to trust in Christ and in Christ alone for his or her salvation. Since God commands us to trust in Christ, when we do so we are obeying this command.

But all Christians agree that faith is something we do. God does not do the believing for us. We also agree that our justification is by faith insofar as faith is the instrumental cause of our justification. All the Arminian wants and intends to assert is that man has the ability to exercise the instrumental cause of faith without first being regenerated. This position clearly negates SOLA GRATIA, but not necessarily SOLA FIDE.

Then why say that Arminianism ‘in effect’ makes faith a meritorious work? Because the good response people make to the gospel becomes the ultimate determining factor in salvation. I often ask my Arminian friends why they are Christians and other people are not. They say it is because they believe in Christ while others do not. Then I inquire why they believe and others do not? ‘Is it because you are more righteous than the person who abides in unbelief?’

They are quick to say no.

‘Is it because you are more intelligent?’

Again the reply is negative.

They say that God is gracious enough to offer salvation to all who believe and that one cannot be saved without that grace. But this grace is cooperative grace. Man in his fallen state must reach out and grasp this grace by an act of the will, which is free to accept or reject this grace. Some exercise the will rightly (or righteously), while others do not. When pressed on this point, the Arminian finds it difficult to escape the conclusion that ultimately his salvation rests on some righteous act of the will he has performed. He has ‘in effect’ merited the merit of Christ, which differs only slightly from the view of Rome.”

Faith Is Not The Saviour

“Faith is not our physician. It only brings us to the Physician. It is not even our medicine; it only administers the medicine, divinely prepared by Him who ‘healeth all our diseases.’ In all our believing, let us remember God’s word to Israel: ‘I am Jehovah, that healeth thee’ (Exod. 14:26). Our faith is but our touching Jesus; and what is even this, in reality, but His touching us?

“Faith is not our saviour. It was not faith that was born at Bethlehem and died on Golgotha for us. It was not faith that loved us, and gave itself for us; that bore our sins in its own body on the tree; that died and rose again for our sins. Faith is one thing, the Saviour is another. Faith is one thing, and the cross is another. Let us not confound them, nor ascribe to a poor, imperfect act of man, that which belongs exclusively to the Son of the Living God.

“Faith is not perfection. Yet only by perfection can we be saved; either our own or another’s. That which is imperfect cannot justify, and an imperfect faith could not in any sense be a righteousness. If it is to justify, it must be perfect. It must be like ‘the Lamb, without blemish and without spot.’ An imperfect faith may connect us with the perfection of another; but it cannot of itself do aught for us, either in protecting us from wrath or securing the divine acquittal.

“All faith here is imperfect; and our security is this, that it matters not how poor or weak our faith may be: if it touches the perfect One, all is well. The touch draws out the virtue that is in Him, and we are saved.

“The slightest imperfection in our faith, if faith were our righteousness, would be fatal to every hope. But the imperfection of our faith, however great, if faith be but the approximation or contact between us and the fulness of the Substitute, is no hindrance to our participation of His righteousness. God has asked and provided a perfect righteousness; He nowhere asks nor expects a perfect faith. An earthenware pitcher can convey water to a traveller’s thirsty lips as well as one of gold; nay, a broken vessel, even if there be but ‘a sherd to take water from the pit’ (Isa 30:14), will suffice. So a feeble, very feeble faith, will connect us with the righteousness of the Son of God; the faith, perhaps, that can only cry, ‘Lord, I believe; help mine unbelief.’

“Faith is not satisfaction to God. In no sense and in no aspect can faith be said to satisfy God, or to satisfy the law. Yet if it is to be our righteousness, it must satisfy. Being imperfect, it cannot satisfy; being human, it cannot satisfy, even though it were perfect. That which satisfies must be capable of bearing our guilt; and that which bears our guilt must be not only perfect, but divine. It is a sin-bearer that we need, and our faith cannot be a sin-bearer. Faith can expiate no guilt; can accomplish no propitiation; can pay no penalty; can wash away no stain; can provide no righteousness. It brings us to the cross, where there is expiation, and propitiation, and payment, and cleansing, and righteousness; but in itself it has no merit and no virtue.

“Faith is not Christ, nor the cross of Christ. Faith is not the blood, nor the sacrifice; it is not the altar, nor the laver, nor the mercy-seat, nor the incense. It does not work, but accepts a work done ages ago; it does not wash, but leads us to the fountain opened for sin and uncleanness. It does not create; it merely links us to that new thing which was created when the ‘everlasting righteousness’ was brought in (Dan 9:24).

“And as faith goes on, so it continues; always the beggar’s outstretched hand, never the rich man’s gold; always the cable, never the anchor, the knocker, not the door, or the palace, or the table; the handmaid, not the mistress; the lattice which lets in the light, not the sun.”

— Horatius Bonar

HT: Mike Riccardi

Conversion – Repentance and Faith

Conversion: Repentance toward God and Faith toward Christ

Taken from Great Doctrines of the Bible by Martyn Lloyd-Jones

We come now to a kind of turning point in our consideration of the work of the Holy Spirit in the application of redemption. So far we have been looking at His work as He does various things to us, in the depths and recesses of our being. All that we have considered so far in terms of the effectual call and regeneration and our union with Christ can be described in that way. It is something that the Spirit does and of which, at the time, one may not be actively conscious, or at least our consciousness is not essential to the work being done.

Now we come to what we may describe as the manifestations and the results of that work. But though I put it like that, we must again be very careful in the use of chronological sequence. So many of these things really cannot be divided up in terms of time like this. We must keep them clear in our minds, we must keep them clear as ideas, but so many seem to happen at almost exactly the same moment. It has been argued by some of the greatest teachers of the Church that a person may be regenerate for a number of years without its manifesting itself. I find it very difficult to subscribe to that, but I hesitate to pit my opinion against such great authorities. Again, I say that simply to show the kind of distinction that I am drawing.

So we must now consider the manifestations of all that we have considered together and here, too, the question of the order of these doctrines is most interesting. Once more, people disagree as to which doctrine should be put next, but for myself, the next is the biblical doctrine concerning conversion. Here is the regenerate person, the regenerate soul. Now that person is going to do something, and that action marks the moment of conversion.

What do we mean by conversion? It is the first exercise of the new nature in ceasing from old forms of life and starting a new life. It is the first action of the regenerate soul in moving from something to something else. The very term suggests that: conversion means turning from one thing to another. The term is not used very frequently in the Scriptures but the truth which the word connotes and represents appears constantly.

You will find that in the Scriptures the term itself is sometime used in a more general way for any turning. For instance, it is sometimes used even of a believer. Our Lord rebuked Peter on one occasion and said, `When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren’ (Luke 22:32). He meant: When you come back again, when you have turned back. Here the word does not refer to Peter original coming into the Christian life, he was already in it, but he was going to backslide, he was going to go astray and then come back. That is described as conversion, but in the consideration of biblical doctrines, it is well to confine the word `conversion‘ to the sense which is normally given to it when we talk together about these things, that is, it is the initial step in the conscious history of the soul in its relationship to God, it is the first exercise, the first manifestation, of the new life that has been received in regeneration.

This, of course, is something which is essential and there at many statements to that effect. It is stated specifically in Matthew, 18:3: `Verily I say unto you,’ says our Lord, `Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.’ But all the texts which we have already considered in dealing with the doctrine of regeneration are equally applicable here, texts such as, `The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God’ (1 Corinthians 2:14), and, `the carnal mind is enmity against God’ (Romans 8:7). Men and women must come from that before they can be Christians; they must turn from that to this other condition. So conversion is essential. Nobody is born a Christian. We were born in sin, ‘shapen in iniquity’ (Psalm 51:5); we were all `the children of wrath, even as others’ (Ephesians 2:3), we are all subjects of original sin and original guilt, so we must all undergo conversion; and the Bible is quite explicit about this.

The next question, therefore, to ask is: How does it take place? What is the agency in conversion? And here the answer is quite simple. It is first of all and primarily the work of the Holy Spirit and the Holy Spirit does it through the effectual call. We have considered that doctrine and that is how this process of conversion takes place. The call becomes effectual and it is that which leads to the next step—what you and I do. You notice that we are mentioning this for the first time, but in any definition of conversion you must bring in the human as well as the divine activity. The call comes effectually and because it comes effectually we do something about it. That is conversion: the two sides, the call—the response. We have seen how all this becomes possible, but in dealing with conversion, of necessity we must give equal emphasis to the activity of human beings. Now in regeneration and in the union, we are absolutely passive; we play no part at all; it is entirely the work of the Spirit of God in the heart. But in conversion we act, we move, we are called and we do it.

We come, then, to consider the characteristics of conversion and this, I sometimes think, is one of the most important topics that Christian people can consider together. Why is that? Well, it is vital that we should consider the biblical teaching about conversion because there is such a thing as a `temporary conversion’. Have you noticed how often that is dealt with by our Lord Himself in His own teaching, how at times He almost seems to discourage people from going after Him? There was a man who said, `I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest,’ and our Lord, instead of saying, `Marvellous!’ said, Wait a minute. `The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head’ (Matthew 8:19-20). `Do you realise what you’re doing?’ he said in effect. `It’s a very foolish man who goes to war without making sure of his resources. It’s an equally foolish man who starts building a tower without making certain that he’s got sufficient material to finish it.’

Our Lord, because He knew the danger of a `temporary something’ happening, was constantly dealing with it, and seemed to be repelling people. Indeed, they charged Him with making discipleship impossible. Take that great sixth chapter of John where the people were running after Him and hanging on to His words because of the miracle of the feeding of the 5000, and our Lord seemed to be trying deliberately to repel them. So a large number, who thought they were disciples, went back, we are told, and walked no longer with Him. It is quite clear that our Lord was giving that teaching quite deliberately because He was drawing a distinction between the spirit and the flesh. He knew that they were carnal and He was anxious to stress the vital importance of grasping the spiritual.

Take also the parable in Matthew 13—the parable of the sower—and our Lord’s own exposition of it. Notice particularly verses 20 and 21: ‘But he that received the seed into stony places, the same is he that heareth the word, and anon with joy receiveth it; yet hath he not root in himself, but dureth for a while: for when tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the word, by and by he is offended.’ But notice what our Lord says about this same man: he, `anon with joy receiveth it [the word]’. That is what I mean by a temporary conversion. He seems to have received the word, he is full of joy but he has no root in him and that is why he ends up with nothing at all. Now that is our Lord’s own teaching; there is the possibility of this very joyful conversion and yet there is nothing there in a vital, living sense, and it proves temporary.

There is also further teaching in the Scriptures about this same thing. Take Simon the sorcerer in Acts 8. We are told in verse 13, ‘Simon himself believed also: and … was baptised.’ And yet look at the end of that man’s story. He was `in the gall of bitterness’ (v. 23), and Peter simply said to him that he had better ask God to have mercy and grant him repentance.He seemed to be a true believer, but was he?

Then Paul speaks, in 1 Timothy 1:19-20, of `Holding faith, and a good conscience; which some having put away concerning faith have made shipwreck.’ Now that is very serious teaching and he says the same thing in 2 Timothy 2. Here Paul is writing to Timothy about certain people who seemed to have been believers but were now denying the resurrection, as a result of which some frightened Christians thought that the whole Church was collapsing. It is all right, says Paul: `Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are his’ (v. 19). God knows; He is not deceived or deluded. There is such a thing as temporary conversions, temporary believers, but they are not true believers. That is why it is so vital that we should know the biblical teaching as to what conversion really is.

What about the case of Demas, I wonder? There are many who would say that Demas was never a believer at all. I would not like to go so far. He may have been backsliding: ‘Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present world’ (2 Tim. 4:10). But at any rate he is a doubtful case. And then you come to that great classic passage in this connection in Hebrews 6, with a similar passage in the tenth chapter of that epistle. `It is impossible for those who were once enlightened . . . if they shall fall away, to renew them again unto repentance’ (Hebrew 6:4,6).

Therefore I deliberately use this heading of `temporary conversion’. There is obviously something wrong with these people, so we must ask questions. We must consider, we must have definitions, because `All that glisters is not gold.‘ All that appears to be conversion is most certainly not conversion according to our Lord’s own teaching and the teaching of the inspired apostles. So I know nothing that is so dangerous, reprehensible and unscriptural as to say, `But you mustn’t ask these questions.’ No, no, let them come. Always ask: Does the Scripture entitle us to say that? If we are to be true teachers of the word, and helpers of others, and concerned about the glory of God, we must realise that there is such a thing as a temporary conversion which is based upon misunderstanding.

My second reason for being concerned about precise definitions is that there are not only temporary conversions but even counterfeit conversions. Now I draw a distinction, you will notice, between the two and the difference is that in the case of a temporary conversion, conversion is something that has happened as the result of the presentation of the biblical truth. In the case of a counterfeit conversion, it is a phenomenon which, though closely resembling and simulating Christian conversion, has been produced by some other agency that is not the truth. So we must draw the distinction.

This was never more necessary than today, because there are so many people who seem to think that as long as there is a great change in the person’s life, it must be a true conversion. If a man gives up sins and lives a good life and does good, that, they say, is Christian. But it may not be. It is possible for a man to undergo a great, profound, climactic change in his life and way of living and experience which has nothing to do with Christianity. People may even come out of the world and join a church, and their whole life from the outside may apparently be different, but it may be a counterfeit conversion. It is a conversion in the sense that they have left one thing and have come to another, have given up sins and are now doing good but it is counterfeit because they lack the necessary essential relationship to truth. If you are only interested in phenomena, if you are only interested in someone who can get up and say, `My whole life is absolutely changed,’ then you need only go to books on psychology. Psychology has been very popular now for many years, and it makes a most powerful attack upon the Christian faith—that is why I am so concerned about it. I heard a man say that if his Christian faith were attacked, it would not worry him. He would simply reply, `I don’t care what you people say; I don’t care what science says, I know because of what’s happening to me.’

Now my response to that was, `Yes, and every psychologist in your audience would smile. They would say, “We agree that you have had a psychological change and experience. But, of course, many things can do that.” And they would continue to dismiss the whole of Christianity.’

No, the defence of the Christian faith must never rely simply upon some experience that you and I have had. The defence of the Christian faith is objective truth. So unless we are careful at this point in defining conversion the danger is that we shall have nothing to say to those who have undergone one of these counterfeit experiences.

Then there is one other thing—and here we leave the counterfeit and the temporary and come to something which is more immediately practical. There are variable elements in connection with conversion, and because of these we must be very careful that we know what the essential elements are. Let me illustrate what I mean. Take the time element, the time factor in conversion. Must it be sudden? Is it impossible for it to be gradual? Well, I would say that the Scripture does not teach that it must of necessity be sudden. The great thing is that it has happened, whether sudden or gradual. The time element is not one of the absolute essentials; it may have its importance, but it is not vital.

Secondly, must one’s conversion of necessity be dramatic? We all tend to emphasise these, do we not? They have human interest, we say, and we must be interesting. But must conversion be dramatic? Now if you read just one chapter in the Scriptures—Acts 16—you will see that you have no right to say that. Of course, if you only read the story of the Philippian jailer, then you will say conversion must be full of drama. But I am equally interested in the story of Lydia and there is nothing to suggest that about her conversion. Not at all! It may have been quite quiet, but it was equally a conversion. So here we have another variable element. Dramatic quality may be there, but it may not be. It is not essential.

Then there is the old vexed question of the place of feelings. Of course, they must be there, but there are feelings and feelings. They may be very intense, or they may not be, but they are still feelings. We all differ by nature and temperament, and in this matter of feelings we differ very much indeed. The most demonstrative person is not always the one who feels most.

To me the meanest flower that blows can give 

Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 

W. Wordsworth

So it is not the one who is weeping the most copiously who is of necessity the most intensely feeling. Another person may be feeling so deeply that his feelings are down beyond the very possibility of tears, as it were. Feelings are variable and express themselves variously in different people. They must be present, but God forbid that we should insist upon a particular intensity or display of feelings.

And then there is the whole question of age. Some have said that unless you are converted when you are an adolescent, you will never be converted at all, because the requisite psychological factors can never be there again. What utter rubbish! How unscriptural! I have never seen a more striking conversion than I once saw in a man aged seventy-seven: thank God for that! No, there is no age limit; age does not make the slightest difference. We are talking about something the Holy Spirit produces. There is as much hope for the man who is shivering on the brink of the grave and of hell as for the adolescent—if you are interested in true conversion, that is. If you are interested in psychological experiences, then I agree, adolescence is the right time for it. Everything is very explosive at that point; you merely strike a match and there it is. But we are not interested in psychological changes; we are talking about true, Christian, spiritual conversion. And there age, thank God, is a complete irrelevance.

Now we have considered these things because there is always a tendency to standardise the variable aspect of conversion. Sometimes it works out in the evangelist, in his desiring everybody to become a Christian in the same way, and he is doubtful of the converts unless they are all the same. But it may happen in us, too, we all desire to be the same. That is always one of the dangerous things about reading of somebody else’s experiences; consciously or unconsciously we tend to reproduce them. It is a part of our makeup and of our nature, we are imitators, and if we like a thing that we see in someone else, then we wish that to be true of us, too.

Then we also tend to concentrate on particular manifestations of conversion. The feelings, for instance, are only one aspect, yet we put all our emphasis on them. This can be extremely dangerous because feelings, as I have indicated, are one of a number of variables, and this way may lead to tragedy. Some people are always insisting upon the presence of a variable quality, which is not essential. Thinking it was essential, and not having experienced it, they say that they have never been converted. And this can lead to untold and unnecessary unhappiness. In a way, the great instance of that is John Wesley who thought, immediately after his experience in Aldersgate Street, that that was his conversion, that he had never been a Christian until that moment. Years later he said that he had been quite wrong about that and that he was a Christian already but was `more like a servant than a son’. All that happened to him there, he said, was that he realised his faith.

Well, Wesley may have been right or not; we do not know. But all I am indicating is that if we postulate something that is variable, and insist upon it, we may do ourselves or somebody else great harm. We may tell other people that they are not converted because they do not conform to our particular standard. So we must be very careful that we do not go beyond Scripture and say things which the Bible does not say. Therefore, how vital, how essential it is, that we should have clear definitions in our mind.

What, then, are the permanent and essential elements in conversion? Now these are made quite plain in Scripture, but not only there. We know that what we shall now be considering must be true because of the previous doctrines. This is something that really thrills me! There is such a consistency in the scriptural teaching. These doctrines are all consistent with one another, and if we allow ourselves to be led by the Bible, we shall not be denying at one point what we have said at another. And the doctrines we have already considered make the truth of these permanent and essential elements in conversion inevitable and clear.

Another argument—and I do want to emphasise this—is that what the Scriptures tell us about the permanent and essential elements in conversion has always been repeated in all great revivals in the long history of the Christian Church.That is most important. If you start saying that, because this is the late twentieth century, we can expect something different or that things need not be the same, you are being unscriptural. If this is the work of God, I do not care what century it happens in, it will have the same marks upon it, the same stamp. Read the history of revivals and you will find that they have always reproduced similar characteristics. It has often been said that every revival is nothing but a return to the book of Acts. Every true sign of religion is first-century religion coming up again. Always! There is a standard pattern, and all the histories show that the revivals conform to these great essential elements.

It is not only true in the history of revival. It is equally true in the history of persons, individuals, the saints who have been converted. Men and women of God are always the same. I do not care where they are, from what country, what century, or what time—it makes no difference. The fact is that they are men and women of God, and it is their relationship to God that determines what they must be. And that does not change throughout the centuries because God does not change. There is no special type of man or woman of God for the twentieth century, and do not believe it if anybody tells you there is. They must be the same, they always have been. You can read of them in the early centuries, in the Middle Ages, at the time of the Reformation, in the period of the Puritans, the evangelicals of the eighteenth century—they are always the same. And each one reminds you of the others.

What, then, are these permanent elements? There are two essential elements in conversion, and these are emphasised everywhere in the Scripture, in the Gospels, in the book of Acts and in the epistles. Paul, fortunately, has put it all in a phrase for us, in Acts 20:21, on that moving occasion when he said farewell to the elders of the church at Ephesus. I have sometimes thought that if there was one scene in history more than any other at which I should like to have been present, it was just that. `I’m going,’ Paul says, in effect, to the elders, `you’ll never see me again, and I want you to hold on to the things I’ve told you, and to remember what I did when I was with you.’ What was this? `Testifying both to the Jews, and also to the Greeks, repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ.‘ That is conversion. Those are the essential and the only essential elements in conversion. Repentance and faith. Sudden or gradual, it does not matter. Repentance must be there; faith must be there. If one is missing it is not conversion. Both are essential.

At this point, let me ask a question. In which order do they come? Which comes first, repentance or faith? Now that is a fascinating question. There is a sense in which faith is bound to come before repentance, and yet I shall not put it like that, and for this reason: when I am talking about faith, I mean it in the sense that the apostle Paul used it—faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, not faith in general. There must be faith in general before you can repent, because if you do not believe certain things about God, you do not act upon it and there is no repentance. But I am referring to faith in the special sense of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. In that case, repentance comes before faith and Paul puts them in that order: `Testifying both to the Jews, and also to the Greeks, repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ.’

Why must repentance come first? Well, you will find that it always comes first in Scripture. Who was the first preacher in the New Testament? The answer is John the Baptist. What did he preach? The `baptism of repentance for the remission of sins’ (Mark 1:4). This was the message of the forerunner and the forerunner always comes first. Then the second preacher was the Lord Jesus Christ and if you turn to the Gospels and observe the first thing He ever said you will find that He again exhorted the people to repent and to believe the gospel (Mark 1:15). So, exactly like John the Baptist, the first thing He taught was repentance.

Then what did Peter preach? Take the great sermon on the day of Pentecost in Acts 2. Peter preached and the people cried out saying, `Men and brethren, what shall we do?’ This was the reply: `Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost’ (Acts 2:37-38). Repent. And, as I have already quoted to you, repentance was the message of the apostle Paul. He started with repentance. He did it in Athens: God ‘. . . . commandeth all men every where to repent’ (Acts 17:30).

Repentance is of necessity the first message, and it surely must be. It is scriptural, yes, but Scripture also enables us to reason. Let me put it to you like this: Why should men and women believe on the Lord Jesus Christ? It is no use just asking them to believe in Christ. They are entitled to ask, `Why should I believe in Him?’ That is a perfectly fair question. And people do not see any need or necessity for believing in the Lord Jesus Christ if they do not know what repentance is. Of course you may be inviting them to Christ as a helper, or as a friend, or as a healer of the body, but that is not Christian conversion. No, no, people must know why they must believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. The law is our schoolmaster (Galatians 3:24) to bring us there and the law works repentance.

In other words, the primary point about conversion, the primary thing in the whole of Christian salvation, is to bring us into the right relationship with God. Why did Christ come? Why did He die? The answer is that He did it all to bring us to God. And if we think about these things in any way except in terms of being reconciled to God, our view is entirely false. I say it hesitatingly because I know the danger of being misunderstood, but there is far too much Christianity today, it seems to me, that stops at the Lord Jesus Christ and does not realise that He came and did everything in order to reconcile us to God. Indeed, it was God who was `in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself’ (2 Corinthians 5:19). I think the greatest weakness in evangelical Christianity today is that it forgets God. We are interested in experiences, we are interested in happiness, we are interested in subjective states. But the first need of every soul, as we shall see, is to be right with God. Nothing matters but that. The gospel starts with God, because what is wrong with everybody is that they are in a wrong relationship to Him.

So we must put repentance first; it is the original trouble, the main consequence of the fall and original sin. God is orderly in His working, and He starts with the big thing, the first thing. Therefore, in the next lecture, we shall go on to deal with repentance.

Twin Graces – Repentance & Faith

An article by Dr. Sinclair Ferguson entitled “Which Comes First: Repentance or Faith?” ( https://www.ligonier.org/blog/faith-repentance/ )

When the gospel is proclaimed, it seems at first sight that two different, even alternative, responses are called for. Sometimes the summons is, “Repent!” Thus, “John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness of Judea, ‘Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand’” (Matt. 3:1–2). Again, Peter urged the hearers whose consciences had been ripped open on the day of Pentecost, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ” (Acts 2:38). Later, Paul urged the Athenians to “repent” in response to the message of the risen Christ (Acts 17:30).

Yet, on other occasions, the appropriate response to the gospel is, “Believe!” When the Philippian jailer asked Paul what he must do to be saved, the Apostle told him, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved” (Acts 16:31).

But there is no mystery or contradiction here. Further on in Acts 17, we discover that precisely where the response of repentance was required, those who were converted are described as believing (Acts 17:3034).

Any confusion is surely resolved by the fact that when Jesus preached “the gospel of God” in Galilee, He urged His hearers, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:14–15). Here repentance and faith belong together. They denote two aspects in conversion that are equally essential to it. Thus, either term implies the presence of the other because each reality (repentance or faith) is the sine qua non of the other.

In grammatical terms, then, the words repent and believe both function as a synecdoche—the figure of speech in which a part is used for the whole. Thus, repentance implies faith and faith implies repentance. One cannot exist without the other.

But which comes first, logically? Is it repentance? Is it faith? Or does neither have an absolute priority? There has been prolonged debates in Reformed thought about this. Each of three possible answers has had advocates:

First, W. G. T. Shedd insisted that faith must precede repentance in the order of nature: “Though faith and repentance are inseparable and simultaneous, yet in the order of nature, faith precedes repentance” (Dogmatic Theology, 2.536). Shedd argued this on the grounds that the motivating power for repentance lies in faith’s grasp of the mercy of God. If repentance were to precede faith, both repentance and faith would be legal in character, and they would become prerequisites for grace.

Second, Louis Berkhof appears to have taken the reverse position: “There is no doubt that, logically, repentance and the knowledge of sin precede the faith that yields to Christ in trusting love” (Systematic Theology, p. 492).

Third, John Murray insisted that this issue raises

an unnecessary question and the insistence that one is prior to the other is futile. There is no priority. The faith that is unto salvation is a penitent faith and the repentance that is unto life is a believing repentance … saving faith is permeated with repentance and repentance is permeated with saving faith. (Redemption—Accomplished and Applied, p. 113).

This is, surely, the more biblical perspective. We cannot separate turning from sin in repentance and coming to Christ in faith. They describe the same person in the same action, but from different perspectives. In one instance (repentance), the person is viewed in relation to sin; in the other (faith), the person is viewed in relation to the Lord Jesus. But the individual who trusts in Christ simultaneously turns away from sin. In believing he repents and in repenting believes. Perhaps R. L. Dabney expressed it best when he insisted that repentance and faith are “twin” graces (perhaps we might say “conjoined twins”).

But having said this, we have by no means said everything there is to say. Entwined within any theology of conversion lies a psychology of conversion. In any particular individual, at the level of consciousness, a sense of either repentance or trust may predominate. What is unified theologically may be diverse psychologically. Thus, an individual deeply convicted of the guilt and bondage of sin may experience turning from it (repentance) as the dominant note in his or her conversion. Others (whose experience of conviction deepens after their conversion) may have a dominant sense of the wonder of Christ’s love, with less agony of soul at the psychological level. Here the individual is more conscious of trusting in Christ than of repentance from sin. But in true conversion, neither can exist without the other.

The psychological accompaniments of conversion thus vary, sometimes depending on the dominant gospel emphasis that is set before the sinner (the sinfulness of sin or the greatness of grace). This is quite consistent with the shrewd comment of the Westminster Divines to the effect that faith (that is, the trusting response of the individual to the word of the gospel) “acteth differently upon that which each particular passage thereof [of Scripture] containeth” (WCF 16.2).

In no case, however, can real conversion take place apart from the presence of both repentance and faith, and therefore both joy and sorrow. A “conversion” that lacks all sorrow for sin, that receives the word with only joy, will be temporary.

Jesus’ parable of the sower is instructive here. In one type of soil, the seed sprouts quickly but dies suddenly. This represents “converts” who receive the word with joy—but with no sense of fallow ground being broken up by conviction of sin or any pain in turning from it (Mark 4:5–616–17). On the other hand, a conversion that is only sorrow for sin without any joy in pardon will prove to have been only “worldly grief” that “produces death” (2 Cor. 7:10). In the end, it will come to nothing.

This, however, raises a final question: Does the necessity of repentance in conversion constitute a kind of work that detracts from the empty-handedness of faith? Does it compromise grace?

In a word, no. Sinners must always come empty-handed. But this is precisely the point. By nature, my hands are full (of sin, self, and my own “good deeds”). However, hands that are full cannot hold on to Christ in faith. Instead, as they take hold of Him, they are emptied. That which has prevented us from trusting Him falls inevitably to the ground. The old way of life cannot be retained in hands that are taking hold of the Savior.

Yes, repentance and faith are two essential elements in conversion. They constitute twin graces that can never be separated. As John Calvin well reminds us, this is true not only of the beginning but of the whole of our Christian lives. We are believing penitents and penitent believers all the way to glory.

Saving Faith

Chapter 17 of my book “Twelve What Abouts”

The Apostle Paul’s main theme in the book of Romans is that of the Gospel itself, as he answers the question, “How can an unjust person ever be acceptable to a just and holy God?” In passages such as Chapter 3:20 to 4:8, he makes it abundantly clear that we are justified (God declaring us right with Him) on the basis of faith alone and not by anything that we do. Other passages where Paul states this are Titus 3:5; Gal. 2:16; Eph. 2:8,9; Phil 3:9; to name just a few. 

Romans 3:28; 4:3-8 declares, “For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law… For what does the Scripture say? ‘Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness.’ Now to the one who works, his wages are not counted as a gift but as his due. And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness, just as David also speaks of the blessing of the one to whom God counts righteousness apart from works: ‘Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven, and whose sins are covered; blessed is the man against whom the Lord will not count his sin.’”

Having established the case biblically that we are justified by faith apart from works, we then need to ask the question, “What kind of faith is it that justifies?” In other words, what does genuine, saving faith look like?

A CLAIM IS NOT ENOUGH

This is precisely the issue that James is addressing in chapter 2 of his epistle. He writes in verse 14, “What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him?”

The obvious answer to James’ rhetorical question is “No, that is not the kind of faith that saves. True faith will produce works.” It is never enough to merely make a claim to have faith. No one is ever saved by a mere empty profession of faith. What is professed, must actually be possessed for justification to exist.

James teaches us clearly that if genuine faith is present, it necessarily produces the fruit of works. That’s the nature of true faith. In fact, if works do not follow from “faith,” then it is proof positive that the “faith” is not in fact genuine, but a mere claim to it.

There is no discord between what James writes and what we find in Romans and the rest of Paul’s writings. Faith without works is dead, and a dead faith never saved anyone. True faith is a living faith, and will inevitably show itself with accompanying action or works. Yet even if all these good works do come from genuine faith, these works still have no part in the ground of our justification. Our works add no merit to us, removing all grounds for boasting. “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Eph 2:8, 9)

The only work that contributes to our justification is the work of Jesus; not the work of Jesus in us, but the work of Jesus for us. His merit is the only merit that counts for us. Paul tells us that it we are justified by faith apart from works, and James tells us that that kind of faith that actually saves is a faith that will of necessity produce works.

The Reformers of the 16th Century were very clear about all this. They described true, saving faith as having three components, which were described by three Latin words: notitia, assensus and fiducia.

1. CONTENT OR INFORMATION (notitia) – Like our modern day word “notice”, notitia concerns information or knowledge of the truth of the gospel. We need to understand the facts of the Gospel.

What exactly must be believed?

Certainly, a person does not need to be a highly trained theologian to be saved. The Holy Spirit draws both adults and young children to a saving knowledge of Christ. Yet when children are converted to Christ, they may not know every nuance of the faith, or even a detailed understanding of the atonement – merely that Christ died for our sins. However, I believe it would be true to say that a truly saved person, although they may not be able to articulate the content of the Gospel at length, will not reject it when they do hear it. I believe that’s a very important point to make. Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish.” (John 10: 27, 28) Christ’s true sheep instinctively know the Shepherd’s voice and follow Him. The regenerate person humbly submits to the faithful teaching of Scripture when hearing it (Scripture being the Shepherd’s voice), unlike those who are still in the flesh who remain completely incapable of doing so (Romans 8:7, 8).

This noticia includes belief in one God, in the full humanity (1 John 4:3) and deity of Christ (John 8:24), and His death for sinners on the cross (1 Cor. 15:3), as well as His physical resurrection from the dead. Romans 10:9 tells us, “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

I believe the noticia would also include some understanding of God’s grace in salvation – that is, God saves us because of Christ’s work on behalf of sinners, not the sinner’s work on behalf of God. Dr. James White writes: God’s grace is powerful, and it brings full salvation to the soul of the person who despairs of anything other than free, unmerited grace. Grace cannot clasp the hand that carries within it ideas of merit, or good works, or any other kind of human addition to grace. “But if it is by grace, it is no longer on the basis of works, otherwise grace is no longer grace” (Romans 11:6). God’s wondrous grace cannot be mixed with human merit. The hand that holds onto its own alleged goodness, or attempts to sneak in a merit here, a good work there, will not find the open hand of God’s grace. Only the empty hand fits into the powerful hand of grace. Only the person who finds in Christ his all-in-all will, in so finding, be made right with God. This is why the Scriptures say it is by faith so that it might be in accordance with grace: in God’s wisdom, he excludes man’s boasting by making salvation all of grace. (The Empty Hand of Faith, tract)

2. BELIEF (assensus) – It is entirely possible to understand something (the notitia) and yet not believe it personally (assensus). Therefore, we need to be able to say, “I both understand and believe the content of the gospel.”

3. COMMITMENT (fiducia) – The third component of saving faith is a full trust in and commitment to the One who loved us and died for us. This is of critical importance because it is possible to understand these truths, believe they are true, and yet pull back from the necessary personal commitment that will actually enlist us as one of Christ’s followers. To possess only the first two parts (notitia and assensus), without the third part (fiducia), merely qualifies us to be demons! James 2:19 declares, “You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder!” Even demons understand and believe, but that does not mean that they have any share in redemption.

True saving faith will always produce the fruit of good works. That is its nature. Though our works play no part at all in justifying us before God, they justify or vindicate our claim to faith before a watching world. Our lives should demonstrate that the faith professed was, and is, also possessed.

As you consider your own standing before God, would you say that yours is based completely upon what the Lord Jesus Christ has done in your place (rather than what you do for Him)? Can you honestly say you trust Him with your eternal destiny, and fully believe He carried your sins on the cross, that He rose again from the dead, and that He indeed is your personal Savior and Lord? Do you believe He has forgiven your sins and given His righteousness to you, so that you can stand justified (declared right in His sight) both now and on the Day of Judgment?

If at the present time you are not able to answer these questions in the affirmative, I pray that God will indeed give you the gift of true repentance and faith, turning away from all attempts at self-righteousness and self-justification and instead transfer all your personal trust to the perfect Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. Call upon the Name of the Lord and be saved.

Faith and Repentance by Sinclair Ferguson

Article: Faith and Repentance by Dr. Sinclair Ferguson (original source here)

When the gospel is proclaimed, it seems at first sight that two different, even alternative, responses are called for. Sometimes the summons is, “Repent!” Thus, “John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness of Judea, ‘Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand’” (Matt. 3:1–2). Again, Peter urged the hearers whose consciences had been ripped open on the day of Pentecost, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ” (Acts 2:38). Later, Paul urged the Athenians to “repent” in response to the message of the risen Christ (Acts 17:30).

Yet, on other occasions, the appropriate response to the gospel is, “Believe!” When the Philippian jailer asked Paul what he must do to be saved, the Apostle told him, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved” (Acts 16:31).

But there is no mystery or contradiction here. Further on in Acts 17, we discover that precisely where the response of repentance was required, those who were converted are described as believing (Acts 17:30, 34).

Any confusion is surely resolved by the fact that when Jesus preached “the gospel of God” in Galilee, He urged His hearers, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:14–15). Here repentance and faith belong together. They denote two aspects in conversion that are equally essential to it. Thus, either term implies the presence of the other because each reality (repentance or faith) is the sine qua non of the other.

In grammatical terms, then, the words repent and believe both function as a synecdoche—the figure of speech in which a part is used for the whole. Thus, repentance implies faith and faith implies repentance. One cannot exist without the other.

But which comes first, logically? Is it repentance? Is it faith? Or does neither have an absolute priority? There has been prolonged debates in Reformed thought about this. Each of three possible answers has had advocates:

First, W. G. T. Shedd insisted that faith must precede repentance in the order of nature: “Though faith and repentance are inseparable and simultaneous, yet in the order of nature, faith precedes repentance” (Dogmatic Theology, 2.536). Shedd argued this on the grounds that the motivating power for repentance lies in faith’s grasp of the mercy of God. If repentance were to precede faith, both repentance and faith would be legal in character, and they would become prerequisites for grace.

Second, Louis Berkhof appears to have taken the reverse position:

“There is no doubt that, logically, repentance and the knowledge of sin precede the faith that yields to Christ in trusting love” (Systematic Theology, p. 492).

Third, John Murray insisted that this issue raises

an unnecessary question and the insistence that one is prior to the other is futile. There is no priority. The faith that is unto salvation is a penitent faith and the repentance that is unto life is a believing repentance … saving faith is permeated with repentance and repentance is permeated with saving faith. (Redemption—Accomplished and Applied, p. 113).

This is, surely, the more biblical perspective. We cannot separate turning from sin in repentance and coming to Christ in faith. They describe the same person in the same action, but from different perspectives. In one instance (repentance), the person is viewed in relation to sin; in the other (faith), the person is viewed in relation to the Lord Jesus. But the individual who trusts in Christ simultaneously turns away from sin. In believing he repents and in repenting believes. Perhaps R. L. Dabney expressed it best when he insisted that repentance and faith are “twin” graces (perhaps we might say “conjoined twins”).

But having said this, we have by no means said everything there is to say. Entwined within any theology of conversion lies a psychology of conversion. In any particular individual, at the level of consciousness, a sense of either repentance or trust may predominate. What is unified theologically may be diverse psychologically. Thus, an individual deeply convicted of the guilt and bondage of sin may experience turning from it (repentance) as the dominant note in his or her conversion. Others (whose experience of conviction deepens after their conversion) may have a dominant sense of the wonder of Christ’s love, with less agony of soul at the psychological level. Here the individual is more conscious of trusting in Christ than of repentance from sin. But in true conversion, neither can exist without the other.

The psychological accompaniments of conversion thus vary, sometimes depending on the dominant gospel emphasis that is set before the sinner (the sinfulness of sin or the greatness of grace). This is quite consistent with the shrewd comment of the Westminster Divines to the effect that faith (that is, the trusting response of the individual to the word of the gospel) “acteth differently upon that which each particular passage thereof [of Scripture] containeth” (WCF 16.2).

In no case, however, can real conversion take place apart from the presence of both repentance and faith, and therefore both joy and sorrow. A “conversion” that lacks all sorrow for sin, that receives the word with only joy, will be temporary.

Jesus’ parable of the sower is instructive here. In one type of soil, the seed sprouts quickly but dies suddenly. This represents “converts” who receive the word with joy—but with no sense of fallow ground being broken up by conviction of sin or any pain in turning from it (Mark 4:5–6, 16–17). On the other hand, a conversion that is only sorrow for sin without any joy in pardon will prove to have been only “worldly grief” that “produces death” (2 Cor. 7:10). In the end, it will come to nothing.

This, however, raises a final question: Does the necessity of repentance in conversion constitute a kind of work that detracts from the empty-handedness of faith? Does it compromise grace?

In a word, no. Sinners must always come empty-handed. But this is precisely the point. By nature, my hands are full (of sin, self, and my own “good deeds”). However, hands that are full cannot hold on to Christ in faith. Instead, as they take hold of Him, they are emptied. That which has prevented us from trusting Him falls inevitably to the ground. The old way of life cannot be retained in hands that are taking hold of the Savior.

Yes, repentance and faith are two essential elements in conversion. They constitute twin graces that can never be separated. As John Calvin well reminds us, this is true not only of the beginning but of the whole of our Christian lives. We are believing penitents and penitent believers all the way to glory.