“Unless you know yourself to be the lowest of sinners you will not see the greatness of your Savior. It is the one who is forgiven of much that loves much in response (Luke 7:41-49).”

This and other excellent insights from Joe Thorn can be found in an article if not inappropriate. So let me tell you up front that I am convinced the answer to this question, when posed to a Christian, ought to always be, “Yes. I am the worst sinner I know.” Many balk at this idea–pointing to people who are constantly overwhelmed by guilt and find no relief. Such theology can seem cruel. Yet when properly understood this leads to deliverance rather than to despair. Knowing ourselves and knowing our Savior highlights our transgressions and Christ’s glories in such a way that we are both humbled and made happy by the grace of God in Christ.

The Apostle Paul wrote of himself in a way that demonstrates what he believed about himself. First he said he was “least of the Apostles” (1 Cor. 15:9), then “least of all the saints” (Eph. 3:8), and, at the end of his life, he saw himself as the “foremost” of sinners (1 Tim 1:15). This, combined with Paul’s ongoing struggle with sin described in Romans 7:13-25, gives a picture of the Apostle’s self-image. Though now a saint he remained, in his own eyes, the worst sinner he knew due to his wicked past and even his present corruption. Note what the Second London Confession has to say about the sin nature in believers:

The corruption of nature, during this life, does remain in those that are regenerated; and although it be through Christ pardoned and mortified, yet both itself, and the first motions thereof, are truly and properly sin. – Second London Confession, VI.5

To say that you are the worst sinner you know is not to compare yourself to others. It is a confession of one’s own weakness and transgressions. What enables us to make such a judgment is that we know our sins better than we know anyone else’s. We know (at least in part) our motives, thoughts, and desires. We know not only those visible sins that others may take notice of, but also those that go unnoticed. We do not merely sense this as sinners, but we sense it primarily as saints. We feel our sins, and know the greatness of their heinousness in light of God’s patience toward us, and Christ’s sacrifice for us. In this we find deep humility. Continue reading →

In this article, Kevin DeYoung addresses question of whether sanctification is a monergistic or synergistic work – original source in a leadership training class at our church, a spirited discussion broke out on whether sanctification is monergistic or synergisitic. No, this is not what every class is like at University Reformed Church. But this one was. I wasn’t there, but I was told the discussion was energetic, intelligent, and respectful. I’m glad to serve at a church where people know and care about this level of theological precision.

The terms monergism and synergism refer to the working of God in regeneration. Monergism teaches that we are born again by only one working (mono is Greek for “one,” erg is from the Greek word for “work”). Synergism teaches that we are born again by human cooperation with the grace of God (the syn prefix means “with” in Greek). The Protestant Reformers strongly opposed all synergistic understandings of the new birth. They believed that given the spiritual deadness and moral inability of man, our regeneration is owing entirely to the sovereign work of God. We do not cooperate and we do not contribute to our being born again. Three cheers for monergism.

But what should we say about sanctification? On the one hand, Reformed Christians are loathe to use the word synergistic. We certainly don’t want to suggest that God’s grace is somehow negligible in sanctification. Nor do we want to suggest that the hard work of growing in godliness is not a supernatural gift from God. On the other hand, we are on dangerous ground if we imply that we are passive in sanctification in the same way we are passive in regeneration. We don’t want to suggest God is the only active agent in our progressive sanctification. So which is it: is sanctification monergistic or synergistic?

I think it’s best to stay away from both terms. The distinction is very helpful (and very important) when talking about regeneration, but these particular theological terms muddy the waters when talking about sanctification. Synergism sounds like a swear word to Reformed folks, so no one wants to say it. And yet, monergism is not the right word either. To make it the right word we have to provide a different definition than we give it when discussing the new birth. What does it mean to say regeneration and sanctification are both monergistic if we are entirely passive in one and active in the other?

Those who say sanctification is monergistic want to protect the gracious, supernatural character of sanctification. Those who say sanctification is synergistic want to emphasize that we must actively cooperated with the grace in sanctification. These emphases are both correct. And yet, I believe it is better to defend both of these points with careful explanation rather than with terms that have normally been employed in a different theological controversy. Sanctification is both a gracious gift of God and it requires our active cooperation. I’ve tried to show in previous posts that these two truths are biblical. In this post I want to show these two truths are also eminently Reformed.

Let me give a few brief examples.

John Calvin (1509-64)

Commenting on 2 Peter 1:5 (“make every effort to add to your faith…”), Calvin says:

As it is an arduous work and of immense labour, to put off the corruption which is in us, he bids us to strive and make every effort for this purpose. He intimates that no place is to be given in this case to sloth, and that we ought to obey God calling us, not slowly or carelessly, but that there is need of alacrity; as though he had said, “Put forth every effort, and make your exertions manifest to all.” Continue reading →

Any would-be pilot engages in intense, rigorous training and testing before he is ever allowed to fly a commercial airplane, and rightly so. People’s lives depend on a wise and safe operator of the plane in all weather conditions.

Early on in the training, a pilot learns the difference between visual flight rules (VFR) and instrument flight rules (IFR). As the words might suggest, one refers to the rules of flight when visibility is good, the other, when visibility is hampered in some way. I am told that a licensed pilot can fly when there are good visibility conditions but only IFR certified pilots can fly when there is cloud cover of any kind.

The instrument panel in the cockpit is a highly expensive part of the plane, if not the most expensive. It is absolutely vital that the gage readings are accurate, allowing the pilot to determine the pitch, altitude and speed of the aircraft. The pilot learns to trust the instruments more than his own feelings and perceptions.

The instruments are right, even when he might feel that they are wrong. He may feel he is not flying so fast, but if his instruments indicate otherwise, he must slow down before landing. He may feel a whole number of things in fact, and many times, what he feels might indeed be true, but his training reaffirms to him, over and over again, and then over and over again… that feelings are not safe; they cannot be trusted; the instruments alone are the final guide in all things.

I think it is fairly easy to see how pilot training illustrates the Christian life. Our senses are not dependable guides when it comes to knowing our standing before God. Like the instruments of the cockpit, the Bible is the only infallible rule of faith for the people of God. By it, we determine our doctrine of God, and of His gospel. The Bible is right when our feelings might well suggest other conclusions. God has spoken with clarity in His word. In fact, it is more accurate than any instrument that man can build. The Bible alone is the infallible, inerrant word of God, because God Himself is its author.

In the storms of life, what a safe refuge the word of God is. The Scripture says “for we walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Cor. 5:7) We walk by the instrument of God’s word rather than by our senses.

When condemnation tries to raise its ugly head, how wonderful it is to know that “having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, and that there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 5:1; 8:1). When we feel we just can’t take anything more that the world might throw at us, how great it is to know that “nothing can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” On and on we can go, checking our instrument (so to speak), to know with total assurance, the word of God is the sure guide for all of life and ministry – not merely necessary, but totally sufficient.

Make your own application…