Article” Grace: What Does God Give us? by Dr. Michael Reeves (original source by Michael Reeves and Tim Chester, Inter-Varsity Press London, England, 2016 (available here)

Years before the Reformation, in his days as a monk, Martin Luther had begun lecturing on the Bible at the university in Wittenberg. There he taught his students that salvation is by grace. ‘Not because of our merits,’ he explained; salvation is ‘given out of the pure mercy of the promising God’.[1] No alarms went off; not a single eyebrow was raised among all the inquisitors in Rome. And why not? Because Martin Luther the monk was still then upholding Rome’s own theology. He was loyally teaching standard medieval Roman Catholicism, that salvation is by grace.

Eyebrows might not have arched in Rome, but perhaps yours did just then. For was not the whole point of the Reformation that medieval Roman Catholicism falsely taught salvation by works? That, certainly, is how many see it. Yet that idea actually fails to grasp quite how things really were. More importantly, it fails to grasp the true wonder and acuteness of the Reformers’ message.

Grace in medieval Roman Catholicism

What, then, did Luther the monk (before the Reformation) mean when he taught salvation by grace? He could state that salvation ‘is not on the basis of our merits but on the pure promise of a merciful God’. Which sounds all very Reformational – until he goes on to explain:

Hence the teachers correctly say that to a man who does what is in him God gives grace without fail . . . [God] bestows everything gratis and only on the basis of the promise of his mercy, although he wants us to be prepared for this as much as lies in us. [2]

So, according to this, God does save by grace, but that grace is given to those who are ‘prepared’ for it, who do ‘what is in them’ to be fit for grace. Or as others (‘the teachers’) of the day liked to put it, ‘God will not deny grace to those who do their best.’

Romans 5:5 is perhaps the single most helpful verse for under- standing this view of salvation by grace. ‘God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us,’ writes the apostle Paul. Instead of being read as a verse about the transformative work of the Spirit in those who ‘have been justified by faith’ (Romans 5:1), as the context proves, Romans 5:5 was taken as an account of salvation, meaning that God pours his love and grace into our hearts, transforming us and making us holy – holy enough, ultimately, for heaven. Continue reading →

Jeremy Treat is a pastor at Reality LA and an adjunct professor at Biola University. He holds a PhD in theology from Wheaton College and is the author of The Crucified King: Atonement and Kingdom in Biblical and Systematic Theology. “I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn’t work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.” Pacino’s statement taps into a tension that we all sense intuitively but maybe have not expressed explicitly. If God is forgiving, then why strive for a holy life? If the penalty has been paid, then why must progress be made?

I believe the tension felt here ultimately comes from a confused view of grace.

What Is Grace?

I used to think of grace as a spiritual substance that God stores in piles behind his heavenly throne and dispenses to his people below. In other words, grace is stuff that God gives apart from himself.

How wrong I was! Grace is not a thing. Grace is not stuff that God gives us apart from himself. He doesn’t run out of it. God gives us himself when we don’t deserve it; that is grace. The oft-repeated definition of grace as an undeserved gift is right but does not go far enough when referring to the grace of God. Grace is a gift, but God is not only the giver, he himself is the gift. God graces us with himself.

But if that’s what grace is, then what does grace do? How does grace work? I’ll tell you this much—grace is not a flowery bow that you wrap around your already tidy religious system. It’s not the cherry on top of your morality pie.

Grace changes everything

Grace saves and sanctifies. At least that’s the way it is supposed to be. But so often grace is something we look back to rather than move forward by. Confusion results because we don’t get grace; meaning, we receive it but we’re not transformed by it because we don’t understand it. In order to move forward in grace, we need to debunk five misconceptions of grace and defeat three enemies of grace.

Five Misconceptions about Grace

Grace is permission to sin. If God graciously forgives sin, then why struggle for a sin-free life? “I’m good at sinning, God is good at forgiving; it’s a match made in heaven, right?” This common mindset presumes that it’s God’s job to forgive our sin. He’s God—that’s just what he does. But the minute we presume upon grace, it is no longer grace. Grace is not permission to sin, it is the power to overcome sin. By grace God forgives sin and transforms sinners into saints. Holiness is not a prerequisite for grace; it is a product of grace.

Grace fills the gaps. “Do your best and God will do the rest.” According to this understanding, we do most of the heavy lifting on our own, and then God spots us on the last few reps when we’re tired. How nice of God to finish off what we start. The problem with the “grace fills the gaps” thinking is that it vastly underestimates the extent of sin. The Bible does not say we are people who need help crossing the finish line. It says we are spiritual corpses who need to be given life. When you align with the biblical teaching that sin touches every aspect of our being, then you also realize that grace isn’t just needed to polish off your moral achievements; grace is the beginning, middle, and end of the Christian life. The more honest you are about sin, the more your heart will rejoice in grace.

Grace is God letting up on his standards. Most people think that in the Old Testament God was obsessed with holiness and upheld an almost unrealistic standard for his people. “Keep the rules” was the banner of heaven. But then in the New Testament, God must have woken up on the right side of the cloud and finally decided to lower his standards and just love people for who they are. Right? Wrong. Grace is not God letting up on his law but sending his Son to fulfill it. Jesus lived a perfect life, keeping the covenant and fulfilling the law where God’s people had previously failed. By the renewing effects of the gospel and the power of the Holy Spirit the Christian can live a life of love that begins to align with the holy standards of God’s law.

Grace opposes effort. If it’s “all about grace” then clearly it’s not about effort. Or so it seems. But, as Dallas Willard once said, “Grace is not opposed to effort, it is opposed to earning.” Christians therefore, should work hard, strive, and toil—but we do so not for grace but from grace. Because of the gospel we are motivated not by guilt but by gratitude. And the gospel is the greatest motivating power in the world, propelling followers of Christ to love their neighbor, do justice, and share the gospel. Philippians 2:12-13 describes this type of grace-driven effort: “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”

Grace is for godly people. As much as people may not say this explicitly, many believe it deep down. It results from the simple misconception that God loves good people rather than that God’s love makes people good. But the Bible is not a story of God looking for good people, but one of God redeeming sinful people. And that should come as good news. Grace is for ungodly people, but it transforms them into godly people. We must understand this, because a decision for Christ apart from devotion to Christ is more about fleeting emotions than lifelong commitment.

Three Enemies of Grace

Pride. Why would anyone turn down a free gift? Because if I don’t earn it, then I can’t take credit for it. This is why grace is a difficult concept for accomplishment-driven people. But the greatest enemy of grace is the idea that I don’t need it. This is apparent in the notion that religion is a “crutch” for weak people. But grace is not a crutch for the weak, it is a foundation for the honest. And if I am honest with myself, I know I need far more than a crutch, I need a new heart. Grace doesn’t prop me up, it transforms me from the inside out. We resist grace because we want the glory.

Entitlement. Entitlement is a three-step process: (1) receive a gift with gratefulness, (2) get used to a gift with routine, and (3) demand a gift as a right. This is a blind spot for many American Christians, and one with dangerous consequences. The minute you think you deserve grace you dissolve its power. Grace makes people grateful, but entitlement strangles out grace.

Self-Pity. If pride says “I don’t need grace” and entitlement claims “I deserve grace,” then this last view is the self-pitying plea that “I’m not good enough for grace.” This sentiment is often expressed by saying something like, “I know God can forgive me, but I just can’t forgive myself.” This sounds humble and self-effacing, but it’s actually quite pretentious. Either (a) you have a higher moral standard than God, or (b) you doubt the sufficiency of Christ’s atoning death. God is a greater savior than you are a sinner. Trust that his grace is sufficient.

A Kingdom Full of Prostitutes

Okay, myths debunked and enemies defeated, how does this play out in life? Let’s take the example of prostitutes. In Matthew 21:31, Jesus tells the religious leaders that “prostitutes go into the kingdom of God before you.” How is this possible? How can a holy God have a kingdom full of unholy prostitutes? There are two ways: either God overlooks sin or God transforms sinners.

God could have a kingdom full of prostitutes by simply changing his standards and allowing prostitution. This, of course, means that God would then be okay with sexual sin, injustice, the strong oppressing the weak, and so on. But the God of the gospel remains holy, and so he doesn’t merely dismiss sin, he deals with it through sacrifice. The idea of letting everyone into the kingdom without changing them may sound appealing at first, but when you really think it through, this type of kingdom turns out not to be heaven, but hell.

God will have a kingdom full of prostitutes not because he overlooks sin but because he forgives and transforms sinners. Yes, God’s love meets us where we are, but it refuses to let us stay there. This is because when the grace of God takes root in your heart then it produces fruit in your life. God’s grace is not a matter of lowering his standards, it’s a matter of transforming his people.

Dr. R. C. Sproul:

In 1966, I was teaching a freshman college course of 250 students and assigned three 5–8 page papers that would be due over the course of the semester on October 1, November 1, and December 1.
I told the students that unless there is a death or they were are in the infirmary, then they would get an F if not turned in on time. When the first paper was due, 225 students turned in the paper and twenty-five did not have them ready.

The twenty-five begged for leniency because they said they were unprepared for college life.

I gave it and said, “’Don’t do it again.”

On the next due date, November 1, fifty students came without their papers and begged for grace because of homecoming.

I said, “Okay,” and gave them an extension.

That made me very popular until December 1.

One hundred students did not have their papers and said, “Don’t worry Professor Sproul, we’ll have them to you in a few days.”

I began marking those students down. Suddenly, they all said, “That’s not fair.”

I pointed to one student who had a late paper in November and December and I said, “Oh Johnson, it is justice that is what you want. Your paper was late in November, I’ll go and mark it an F.”
Complaints about fairness stopped immediately.

When we first receive grace, we are overwhelmed. The second time we get grace, we take it for granted. The third time we fail, we demand grace. The first time we demand grace, a bell should go off in our heads. God never owes me grace, and He never owes you grace.

Jeremy Treat is a pastor at Reality LA and an adjunct professor at Biola University. He is the author of The Crucified King: Atonement and Kingdom in Biblical and Systematic Theology. He “I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn’t work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.” Pacino’s statement taps into a tension that we all sense intuitively but maybe have not expressed explicitly. If God is forgiving, then why strive for a holy life? If the penalty has been paid, then why must progress be made?

I believe the tension felt here ultimately comes from a confused view of grace.

What Is Grace?

I used to think of grace as a spiritual substance that God stores in piles behind his heavenly throne and dispenses to his people below. In other words, grace is stuff that God gives apart from himself.

How wrong I was! Grace is not a thing. Grace is not stuff that God gives us apart from himself. He doesn’t run out of it. God gives us himself when we don’t deserve it; that is grace. The oft-repeated definition of grace as an undeserved gift is right but does not go far enough when referring to the grace of God. Grace is a gift, but God is not only the giver, he himself is the gift. God graces us with himself.

But if that’s what grace is, then what does grace do? How does grace work? I’ll tell you this much—grace is not a flowery bow that you wrap around your already tidy religious system. It’s not the cherry on top of your morality pie. Continue reading →

This is just brilliant! I so wish Christians could understand this.

In an article entitled, “We Don’t Find Grace, Grace Finds Us” Tullian Tchividjian writes:

I love the introduction to Sally Lloyd-Jones’ Jesus Storybook Bible. A piece of it goes like this:

“Other people think the Bible is a book of heroes, showing you people you should copy. The Bible does have some heroes in it, but…most of the people in the Bible aren’t heroes at all. They make some big mistakes (sometimes on purpose). They get afraid and run away. At times they are downright mean. No, the Bible isn’t a book of rules, or a book of heroes. The Bible is most of all a story. It’s an adventure story about a young Hero who comes from a far country to win back his lost treasure. It’s a love story about a brave Prince who leaves his palace, his throne – everything – to rescue the one he loves.”

She’s right. I think that most people, when they read the Bible (and especially when they read the Old Testament), read it as a catalog of heroes (on the one hand) and cautionary tales (on the other). For instance, don’t be like Cain — he killed his brother in a fit of jealousy – but do be like Noah: God asked him to do something crazy, and he had the faith to follow through.

Running counter to this idea of Bible-as-hero-catalog, I find that some of the best news in the Bible is that God incessantly comes to the down-trodden, broken, and non-heroic characters. It’s good news because it means he comes to people like me — and like you. It’s very interesting to note that even the characters we think have spotless records (like Noah) need the direct intervention of the true “lamb without blemish.”

Noah is often presented to us as the first character in the Bible really worthy of emulation. Adam? Sinner. Eve? Sinner. Cain? Big sinner! But Noah? Finally, someone we can set our sights on, someone we can shape our lives after, right? This is why so many Sunday School lessons handle the story of Noah like this: “Remember, you can believe what God says! Just like Noah! You too can stand up to unrighteousness and wickedness in our world like Noah did. Don’t be like the bad people who mocked Noah. Be like Noah.”

I understand why many would read this account in this way. After all, doesn’t the Bible say that Noah “was a righteous man, blameless among the people of his time, and he walked faithfully with God” (Genesis 6:9)? Pretty incontrovertible, right?

Not so fast. Continue reading →

Tullian Tchividjian writes:

J. Gresham Machen counterintutively noted that “A low view of law always produces legalism; a high view of law makes a person a seeker after grace.” The reason this seems so counter-intuitive is because most people think that those who talk a lot about grace have a low view of God’s law (hence, the goals are reachable, the demands are doable.

I love this illustration from Max Lucado’s book, In the Grip of Grace, on how judgmental instincts are anchored in a low view of God’s law:

Judging others is the quick and easy way to feel good about ourselves. A convenience-store-ego-boost. Standing next to all the Mussolinis and Hitlers and Dahmers of the world, we boast, “Look God, compared to them I’m not that bad.”

But that’s the problem. God doesn’t compare us to them. They aren’t the standard. God is. And compared to him, Paul will argue, “There is no one who does anything good” (Rom. 3:12).

Suppose God simplified matters and reduced the Bible to one command: “Thou must jump so high in the air that you touch the moon.” No need to love your neighbor or pray or follow Jesus; just touch the moon by virtue of a jump, and you’ll be saved.

We’d never make it. There may be a few who jump three or four feet, even fewer who jump five or six; but compared to the distance we have to go, no one gets very far. Though you may jump six inches higher than I do, it’s scarcely reason to boast.

Now, God hasn’t called us to touch the moon, but he might as well have. He said, “You must be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Matt. 5:48). None of us can meet God’s standard. As a result, none of us deserves to don the robe and stand behind the bench and judge others. Why? We aren’t good enough. Dahmer may jump six inches and you may jump six feet, but compared to the 230,000 miles that remain, who can boast?

The thought of it is almost comical. We who jump three feet look at the fellow who jumped one inch and say, “What a lousy jump.” Why do we engage in such accusations? It’s a ploy. As long as I am thinking of your weaknesses, then I don’t have to think about my own. As long as I am looking at your puny jump, then I don’t have to be honest about my own. I’m like the man who went to see the psychiatrist with a turtle on his head and a strip of bacon dangling from each ear and said, “I’m here to talk to you about my brother.”