On Mortification

I just began teaching an adult Sunday School class on John Owen's classic work The Mortification of Sin in Believers, and this morning we looked at chapter 1 in which Owen lays out some opening remarks about the discourse. The whole treatise is an exposition of Romans 8:13b: "If you mortify the deeds of the body, you will live."

One point that gave rise to some helpful discussion focused on how Owen deals with the conditional nature of this promise. He says that we mustn't take Paul's statement as a condition that bespeaks uncertainty, as if this passage were a universally-applicable formula according to which if a person does Y, X will necessarily follow (but who knows if the person will ever get around to doing X in the first place?). The context rules out such an approach, since the passage is addressed to those for whom "there is no condemnation" because they have been "justified by faith" and "have peace with God" (8:1; 5:1).

Rather, Owen argues, the conditional promise highlights "a certain connection or coherence" between the duty (mortifying the deeds of the body) and the reward (life). Though Owen doesn't say it explicitly, the relationship of eternal life to mortification seems to me to be very much akin to that of faith to justification. Can one be justified without faith? No. But is one's justification earned by his faith? No. The meritorious cause of one's justification is the work of Christ, the benefits of which are received through the instrumental cause of faith. Our mortification, therefore, issues forth in eternal life, but eternal life is in no sense earned by said mortification.

In fact, Owen says that:

The pressing of this duty [of mortification] immediately on any other [than believers] is a notable fruit of that superstition and self-righteousness that the world is full of--the great work and design of devout men ignorant of the gospel.... Mortification from a self-strength, carried on by ways of self-invention, unto the end of self-righteousness, is the soul and substance of all false religion in the world.

I am curious to know your thoughts on Owen's treatment of Paul's conditional promise here, as well as whether or not you agree with his assessment of those who disagree with him (and I think we all know who it is that he has in mind).

N.T. Wright on Romans 3:27-29

There has been an exegetical point that Wright has often made that has been on my mind lately. It concerns Romans 3:27-29, which says:

Then what becomes of our boasting? It is excluded. By what kind of law? By a law of works? No, but by the law of faith. For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law. Or is God the God of Jews only? Is he not the God of Gentiles also? Yes, of Gentiles also.

No one would deny that v. 28 is in some sense a culmination of Paul’s preceding argument concerning justification by faith. On the verses that flank it on either side, Wright writes:

The meaning of the all-important verse Romans 3:28 is held firmly in place by the verses on either side. Romans 3:27 indicates that “the Torah of faith” excludes the “boasting” of Romans 2:17-20.... How then must we read Romans 3:28? [We must read it as] the decisive statement which explains (as the gar, “for,” indicates) the dramatic claim of Romans 3:27, and as the statement whose immediate implication is that God has one family, not two, and that this family consists of faithful Gentiles as well as faithful Jews.

In other words, the boasting that justification by faith eliminates is not a boasting in one’s moral accomplishments, but a boasting on the part of the Jew who takes solace in his status as being from the nation through whom God would save the world. And further, the little word “or” at the beginning of 3:29 serves to show that if the status of “righteous” were manifested by ethnic boundary markers rather than by faith, then the Jews’ boast would be true, and God is, in the end, the father of Abraham’s physical offspring only.

Thoughts?

St. Paul on the Imputation of Christ's Active Obedience

OK, we have given N.T. Wright the floor for our last handful of posts, it is now time to take it back.

For confessional Reformed believers, the biggest obstacle to a “new perspective” reading of Paul is Wright’s denial that Jesus’ life of obedient law-keeping is reckoned to the sinner in justification. Rather, Wright argues, the “obedience” that is so reckoned consist only of the Messiah’s death, and not his life. Wright loves to appeal to Philippians 2:8 at this point, which speaks of Jesus “becoming obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross.”

I would like to offer some points by way of response.

First, regarding Philippians 2:8, Wright would surely agree that his Reformed opponents do not deny that Jesus’ death was an act of obedience to the Father. In other words, no one is denying what this verse says. For Wright to appeal to it in order to refute the imputation of Christ’s active obedience places a much greater burden on the text that it can bear, for in Philippians 2:8 Paul did not say that Jesus’ death alone constitutes the whole of his obedience to the Father, but simply that Christ “became obedient to the point of death.” And moreover, the apostle’s language of “to the point of death” (mexri + thanatos in the genitive case) would seem to indicate that the Messiah’s death was the culmination of his obedience and not just the sole example of it.

Secondly, we have in Romans 5:18-19 one of the most clear Pauline articulations of the doctrine in question:

Therefore as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men. For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one Man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.

A couple points need to be made here in order for these verses to have their full effect. First, although the ESV regrettably follows the NIV in translating di’ henos dikaiomatos as “one act of righteousness,” the context (as well as many commentators) demand that the word henos (one) be rendered in the masculine gender instead of the neuter (though they look identical in the original). In other words, the word “one” should be understood to refer to a masculine subject (“the Man”) rather than to a neuter one (“righteousness”), thus rendering the phrase not “one act of righteousness” but “the righteousness of the one Man” (as it appears in the NKJV). Surprisingly, many who deny the imputation of Jesus’ active obedience cite Romans 5:18 in such a way as to give the impression that it answers the question definitively, thereby demonstrating a complete unawareness of the grammatical debate surrounding it. But as Cranfield says:

Since henos is masculine in its three occurrences in v.17 and also in its two occurrences in v.19, and since the whole subsection is concerned with the relation of the one man Adam and one Man Christ to the many... it is surely better to take henos here as masculine (Romans, 289).

Another grammatical point that is worth mentioning is that here in Romans 5, Paul teaches the substance of the imputation of Christ’s active obedience without ever using the allegedly controversial word logizomai. According to many Federal Visionists, this Greek word that is usually translated as “impute” does not mean to transfer something from one person to another, but only to reckon it to be so. But follow Paul’s logic in vv. 15-19: first, Paul teaches that Christ, like Adam, functions as a federal Head who represents, and acts on behalf of, a people; second, through Christ’s representation his people are given a gift; third, this gift results in justification; fourth, this gift that results in justification consists of righteousness; and fifth, the righteousness that is given is the obedience of Christ, which constitutes us righteous. To summarize, Paul teaches that the obedience of Christ is given as a gift to the sinner resulting in his justification, all without ever using the word logizomai.

Lastly, if Christ’s “righteousness” (both in Romans 5 and elsewhere) refers to his covenant faithfulness, then the question must be asked, “To what, exactly, was Christ faithful?” Remember, Paul makes it clear in Romans 5:18-19 that Jesus’ “righteousness” is his “obedience.” So if Jesus’ obedience is given to the sinner as a gift resulting in justification (which Romans 5 explicitly says), then is Wright correct in saying that Christ’s obedience is his death only? I mean, for all of Wright’s moaning about how supposedly a-historical and non-covenantal Reformed theologians are, one would expect that his understanding of the Messiah’s covenant faithfulness would be defined as faithfulness to Torah, the covenant of law. But if Wright is willing—at precisely this most crucial of points—to surrender his boasted historicity and attention to covenant by removing Torah-keeping from his definition of Christ’s covenant faithfulness, then as far as I am concerned, all bragging right are henceforth null and void.

Please don’t interpret me as being dismissive of Wright as a whole—he makes many important exegetical points throughout his body of work. On this point in particular, though, the confessional Reformed believer must respectfully dig his heels and say with the dying Machen, “So thankful for the active obedience of Christ... no hope without it.”

Is Romans 2 Good or Bad News?

As I pointed out in my post last Wednesday, the standard Catholic position with respect to Paul and James on the relationship of works to justification states that, while man can never bring God into his debt or earn any reward from him, he nonetheless may (and must) perform Spirit-wrought good works in order to be saved. Romans 2:6-13 is often quoted in favor of this view:

He will render to each one according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life; but for those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, there will be wrath and fury. There will be tribulation and distress for every human being who does evil, the Jew first and also the Greek, but glory and honor and peace for everyone who does good, the Jew first and also the Greek. For God shows no partiality.

For all who have sinned without the law will also perish without the law, and all who have sinned under the law will be judged by the law. For it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God, but the doers of the law who will be justified.

Now the traditional Protestant response is that Paul is explaining to his Jewish readers that if they insist on relating to God on the basis of works, then they'll have to go the distance. "Don’t just listen to the law," Paul sarcastically urges, "but go ahead and do it. All of it." Paul then proceeds to demonstrate both the Jews' and Gentiles' failure to perfectly obey the law, showing that God's solution is a "righteousness apart from the law" that has been revealed in Christ.

The Catholic will not relent at this point, however, but will argue that Paul is not pitting perfect law-keeping against faith, but rather, is contrasting the perfect kind of obedience that cannot justify with a less-than-perfect kind that can.

Their argument follows these points: (1) If Paul is speaking in Romans 2 of a covenant-of-works type of righteousness that is unattainable, then he would not have immediately referred his Jewish readers to "Gentiles who by nature do what the law requires" (v. 14). Unless such Gentiles exist, his argument has no force; (2) The whole context of Paul's chiding of his kinsmen is "repentance" and "continuance in well-doing" (vv. 4, 7), which makes no sense under the original Edenic covenant; (3) Every other New Testament reference to final judgment states that it will take place "according to works," and none of them are said to be hypothetical by Protestant exegetes, so why single out this one? (4) Paul describes the entire doing-the-law-to-be-justified and judgment-according-to-works processes as things that happen "according to my gospel" (v. 16), meaning that his message in Romans 2 is not meant to be taken as bad news, but as good news.

Two questions arise. First, how weak or strong are these points? And second, how consistent or inconsistent are they with the confessional Reformed position?

Rome's Reconciliation of Paul and James

I think I’m beginning to get a handle on the Catholic approach to reconciling Paul and James. Unless I’ve totally misunderstood their position, I think it goes something like this:

There are two kinds of faith, and two kinds of works. (1) Dead Faith is a bare intellectual assent akin to that of devils; (2) Living Faith is the genuine kind of faith that produces heartfelt obed-ience; (3) Dead Works are works done without living faith; and (4) Living Works (not the best way of putting it, but I’m trying to keep this simple and consistent) are those acts of obedience that spring from living faith.

How does this apply to the apparent contradiction between Paul and James, with the former saying that Abraham was justified apart from works and the latter saying that the patriarch was justified not by faith alone, but by faith and works?

Well, the Catholic would say that Paul is not concerned with answering the question "What kind of faith justifies?", and likewise, James is not addressing the question "What kind of works do not justify?" In fact, it’s the other way around. Paul’s concern is to dispel the idea that the works done by the Judaizers (and by extension, by faithless Gentiles as well) can garner any favor with God whatsoever. James's concern, on the other hand, is to dismantle the notion that a mere cognitive assent of the mind can justify anyone. But, Rome maintains, what both writers agree on is the idea that a living faith justifies.

So as you can see, both Protestants and Catholics insist that certain words are used equivocally by Paul and James, we just disagree on which words those are. The Catholic maintains that they are using "justification" identically but are using "faith" and "works" differently, while the Protestant says that the interpretive key is the different definitions of "justification" that are in play (Paul's has to do with legal acquittal before God, and James's with demonstrative vindication before men).

To the Scriptures, then.

Avoiding the silly accusations that fault Catholics for not being more Protestant and Protestants for not seeing things like Catholics, which position makes the most sense out of the data? And can either approach be adopted by either side?

When Grace Loses Its Graciousness

Forgive me for the harping, but I just can't figure out the Catholic position with respect to justification in general, and Abraham's in particular.

Paul takes up this point in Romans 4. He begins not by stating that Abraham was not justified by the boastful kind of works, but rather that the reason Abraham did not boast was because he did not work at all, but believed on him who justifies the ungodly.

For if Abraham was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not be-fore God. 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 (vv. 2-5).

Clearly Abraham is not justified by works according to Paul, meaning that whatever James is talking about when he says that the patriarch was justified by works, it must be something different than what Paul is referring to.

Moreover, the apostle makes it clear elsewhere that the fact that salvation is by grace demands that it be by faith, for if works are mingled into the justification equation, the principle of grace has been undermined: "But if it is by grace, it is no longer on the basis of works; otherwise grace would no longer be grace" (Rom. 11:6; cf. 4:14-16).

And lest the reply be offered that it is only Jewish ceremonial "works of the law" that cannot justify, both Paul and Peter state that these ethnic boundary markers, which all good Jews meticulously kept, only serve to bind their adherents with an unbearable yoke and curse them along with all who are in Adam. Why would laws that the Judaizers obeyed serve to curse and not justify, unless the point being made is that Israel is but a microcosm of all people who trust in works of any kind to gain God's gracious acquittal?

It seems to me that the Reformed formula of guilt/grace/gratitude does a much better job of guarding the graciousness of the gospel on the one hand, while still retaining a place for holiness and obedience on the other.

Who are the "Doers of the Law" Who Will be "Justified"?

A favorite passage of all, whether Catholic or Protestant, who affirm some place for the believer's works in the justification equation is Romans 2:13, which reads, "For it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God, but the doers of the law will be justified."

The first thing that must be pointed out is that confessional Protestants actually agree with this statement (remember: we're all about the Bible). The real question is not whether the principle of justification by works is true, but for whom it is applicable.

Reformed theology teaches that:

The first covenant made with man was a covenant of works, wherein life was promised to Adam, and in him to his posterity, upon condition of perfect and personal obedience (Westminster Confession of Faith VII.2).

In the garden, Adam was both able and expected to obey his Creator which, if he had succeeded in doing so, would have brought about his glorification and entrance into eternal Sabbath rest based on that obedience. Now we all know the story, how that he failed and fell, plunging us all into sin and misery. This is why the Confession goes on from the covenant of works and expounds the covenant of grace, according to which sinners receive the life that Adam forfeited, only now through the work of a second Adam, Jesus Christ.

Now if you're wondering where this structure and movement from works to grace comes from, look no further than the book of Romans. The obedience according to which man will be justified in 2:13 is speaking of the just demands of God upon all people by virtue of the original creation covenant which are still incumbent upon the sons and daughters of Adam.

Now if we keep reading in Romans we see, of course, that no man can perform the "works" that we need to be justified: "For we charge that all, both Jews and Greeks, are under sin, as it is written, 'There is none righteous, no, not one'" (3:9-10).

The good news, therefore, is not that God will recognize our works and justify us, but that he will reckon the work of Christ as our own and save us based upon the labor of Another: "But now... the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ [is revealed] for all who believe."

Again it appears that the attempt to couple faith and works for justification fails the exegetical test (especially since Paul will go on to say that justification comes "to him who does not work, but believes").

And yes, we will get to James 2 eventually, so hang in there....

Can Sola Gratia Survive Without Sola Fide?

Paul's argument in Romans 4 is especially germane to our discussion of the doctrine of Sola Fide in general, and of the relationship of faith to works in particular. Some relevant points include:

1. "Works" and "faith" are set in antithesis to one another: "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" (vv. 4-5).

2. The works that Abraham is said not to have done cannot be understood to be "works of the law," for Paul says explicitly that "the promise... did not come through the law but through the righteousness of faith" (v. 13). Plus, Abraham predated Moses by 430 years (cf. Gal. 3:17), meaning that Mosaic "Jewish boundary markers" could not have been in view (vv. 9-12).

3. Paul hints here at what he says explicitly elsewhere: there are two kinds of righteousness, one based on the law, and another based on faith (cf. Phil. 3:9).

4. The word logizomai ("reckon, count, impute") is used 11 times in this chapter.

5. Lastly and perhaps most importantly, according to v. 16 the fact that Abraham's justification was by faith and not works is what ensures the graciousness of the gospel: "That is why it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and be guaranteed to all his offspring...." Please do not miss this point. The gospel is only "by grace" because it is "by faith" and not "by works."

My question for our Catholic readers is this: In the light of Romans 4, how can you affirm Sola Gratia while simultaneously denying Sola Fide?

Isaac to the Altar, Jimmy to the Stove

The second of the "Slogans of Protest" that Catholics re-ject is Sola Fide, the Protestant teaching that the believer is justified by faith alone apart from works. The way the Reformed tradition has expressed this doctrine con-fessionally is as follows:

Those whom God effectually calleth, he also freely justifieth: not by infusing righteousness into them, but by pardoning their sins, and by accounting and accepting their persons as righteous; not for any thing wrought in them, or done by them, but for Christ's sake alone... by [God's] imputing the obedience and satisfaction of Christ unto them, they receiving and resting on him and his righteousness by faith; which faith they have not of themselves, it is the gift of God (Westminster Confession of Faith XI.1).

To this the Catholic responds by pointing out that the only place in the Bible where the phrase "faith alone" is used is in James 2:24, which reads, "You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone." He will further highlight the fact that the issue in James is not, as the Protestant claims, Abraham's justification before men, for the context makes it plain that the question is whether faith alone can "save" (v. 14).

Plus, Abraham's supposed "justification coram hominibus" must have fallen pretty flat since, besides God, there weren't any other people hanging around Mt. Moriah to "ooh" and "aah" at his "demonstration that he had been previously justified" (which, by the way, dikaioutai doesn't even mean).

Can Paul and James be reconciled, or must we "throw Jimmy into the stove"?

It's All Fun and Games Until the Malediction

Building upon my last post in which I began to consider Romans 7:14-25, I would now like to answer the question, "Why, exactly, did the Mosaic law produce such despair in its subjects?"

The answer, I would argue, is found in the works principle that clings to the entire Old Covenant. I realize that it is not uncommon to hear Reformed theologians muse about "the law" and how it functions in a covenant of works versus in a covenant of grace, but since I understand law as being itself covenantal, I can't help but see "Do this and live" as being part and parcel of the law of Moses as a whole. In short, we cannot wrest the kinder, gentler bits of the Mosaic law from their broader covenantal context.

Stephen Westerholm writes:

The Sinaitic legislation was accompanied by promises and sanctions, and Paul includes these when he speaks of the law. Thus the law offers life to those who perform its commands (Rom. 10:5; Gal. 3:12; cf. Rom. 2:13, 25; 7:10), while it pronounces a curse on transgressors (Gal. 3:10, 13). When the law has been transgressed, its curse becomes operative, so that the law of God, like sin and death, can be personified as a hostile power from which people need deliverance (Rom. 4:5; cf. 5:20; 7:6).

If I've said it once I've said it, like, eight times, but there's no better way to kill a person's buzz than by threatening to kill him and his family (which is what the law does).

Given the fact that Moses' commands are always accompanied with God's maledictory oath to curse the transgressor, is it any wonder that the subject of Romans 7 is so defeated?

A Tale of Two Struggles

I just preached on Romans 7:14-25, and it really struck me this past week how different the struggle in this chapter is from the one described in Galatians 5:16-18.

The former is a struggle between who the subject is and who he desires to be. The latter, on the other hand, is a struggle between who the subject is and who he was but is no longer.

In Romans 7, the "wretched man" says the following about himself: he is carnal (v. 14); he is sold as a slave to sin (v. 14); he has been taken captive by indwelling wickedness (v. 23); and he is powerless against temptation (v. 18). In a word, when the war is waged between his will-power to obey the law and his native corruption, the best defense he can muster is the ability to serve God in his head while sinning with his body (v. 25).

The subject of Galatians 5, however, has been "for freedom set free" by Christ (v. 1), is "called to freedom" (v. 13), is "led by the Spirit" and is consequently "not under the law," for he "belongs to Christ Jesus" (v. 24), has "crucified the flesh" (v. 24), "lives by the Spirit" (v. 26), and is therefore called to "walk by the Spirit" (v. 26).

Furthermore, the struggle in Romans 7 is a battle between ego and nomos ("I" and "law"), while the conflict in Galatians 5 is between sarx and pneuma ("flesh" and "Spirit").

And finally, in Romans 6:14 Paul draws the direct connection between being under the Mosaic law and being under sin's dominion. Now if the subject of Romans 7 explicitly claims to be under sin's dominion, we have no choice but to conclude that he is therefore under the Mosaic law. The Galatians, however, are explicitly told that they are not under the law, but rather, they are led by the Spirit.

So yes, two very real struggles are depicted in these texts. But one is from the perspective of a carnal slave who wishes he could be spiritual but can't, while the other is from the standpoint of a Spirit-led son who keeps forgetting who he is, and falling back into what he used to be.

The Scandal of the Gospel

I just began a series of sermons called More Than Conquerors in which I plan to look at Romans 6-8 and focus on the topic of Christian living under the shadow of the cross, and in the power of the Spirit.

This morning I preached from Romans 6:1 and quoted Martyn Lloyd-Jones, who insisted that all faithful preaching must be mistaken for antinomianism, saying, "There is a kind of dangerous element about the true presentation of the doctrine of salvation."

You see, those who see the gospel primarily as a tool for individual or cultural transformation will inevitably be hesitant to give too much attention to something like grace. After all, if not even the law could cure our constant sinning, and then God just accepts us anyway, the conclusion that grace will curb our lusts sounds pretty absurd if you think about it.

"Give 'em an inch," as the fella said.

With all due acknowledgement of the dangers of the etymological fallacy, it is still interesting that the word from which we translate the "offense" that the scribes and Pharisees felt at Jesus' person and message is the Greek verb scandalizomai, from which we derive our English word "scandal."

I don't know about you, but if a person's understanding of the gospel isn't scandalous to my natural way of thinking, if it doesn't call into question everything I think I know, if it doesn't subvert the wisdom of this age, then when you preach it I can barely muster the energy to yawn.

Which is why my response to the idea that the gospel is simply the latest in a long line of self-help methods, or that New Urbanism is "kingdom work," is to wonder why Jesus had to be so attention-seeking as to die to accomplish such tasks.

If the gospel is as "earthy" as many claim, then I will echo the scandal of the scribes and protest alongside them the seeming overkill of the cross and resurrection.

The Right Error to be Wrongly Charged With

After expounding in glorious detail the gospel of justification by faith through the imputation to sinners of an alien righteousness, Paul the apostle begins the sixth chapter of Romans with the question, "What then? Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound?"

It seems to me that one of the key ways whereby we can determine whether we've understood one of Paul's arguments is by whether or not we are tempted to ask the question that he anticipates his readers asking.

So if, after reading the first five chapters of Romans, your first thought is that you can sin as much as you like since God's grace is so abundant, you're on the right track.

I know, I know... Paul's answer to the question is "no," but that doesn't change the fact that it's precisely the right question to ask.

The case can be made, therefore, that if Paul was constantly charged with preaching antinomianism (cf. Rom. 2:8), then this same charge will be made against those who preach a Pauline gospel today.

The question arises, then, concerning those in our circles who are sympathetic to the theology of the Federal Vision: In your zeal to remedy antinomianism, are you in fact undermining justification by faith alone? And if not, why do your critics all seem to think you are?

And what's more, Does it concern you that you are being charged with the exact opposite error with which Paul was charged?

Strict Subscription to the Constitution?

I argued in my last post that the Reformed penchant for limited government, particularly when appeal is made to Romans 13, seems to undermine the two-kingdoms position. For some, of course, this presents no problem whatsoever. But for many two-kingdoms proponents, libertarianism seems to follow as a matter of course. To these, I would ask why the civil and spiritual kingdoms aren't left distinct, but culture is forced to play its game within the confines of a cultic rulebook.

Some two-kingdoms libertarians, however, may respond that Romans 13 has nothing to do with their political persuasion that the government should be limited to a small handful of tasks such as punishing bad guys.

To these I would respond that the claim that Reformed Christians' desire for limited government is a-biblical certainly seems suspicious, given that the Good Book has a chapter in a pretty well-known epistle containing a limited list of functions for the "powers that be" to perform.

Moreover, If I had a nickel for every time Romans 13 was invoked in political discussion with fellow Reformed believers, I'd have a dollar, maybe even more.

Still, the appeal could be made not to the Bible but to the Constitution to substantiate a more limited government. "The Constitution," the argument goes, "only allows the government to do certain things. Going beyond these, therefore, is wrong."

Just as the limited government argument seems to apply the regulative principle of worship to the culture (thus disolving the distinction between the civil and spiritual kingdoms), so the argument from the limited warrant of the Constitution seems to apply the rules of strict confessional subscription to the documents that govern the State as well as the Church.

If we two-kingdoms folks are going to continue to boast in letting the Church be the Church, and the State the State, then whatever our political persuasions, let us justify them by an appeal to their own rules, and not to the rules of another kingdom altogether.

The Regulative Principle of Culture?

The churches of the Reformation differ from their Lutheran, Anglican, and evangelical brethren in that they reject the claim that whatever the Bible does not prohibit in public worship is therefore permitted, but insist that whatever the Bible does not prescribe is therefore prohibited. In a word, God is not interested in our "strange fire" (just ask Nadab and Abihu).

The fact that there are two kingdoms, however, has led us to affirm the opposite with respect to the culture, namely, that what is not forbidden is (all things being equal) allowed.

Enter Ron Paul....

Presidential candidate Ron Paul, who is really a Libertarian in Republican dress, has become quite popular among many Reformed believers, particularly those with a strong two-kingdoms paradigm. The role of government, according to Christians sympathetic to libertarianism, is to be limited to those functions outlined in Romans 13:1-7 (to approve the good, to punish the evil, to bear the sword, and to collect taxes). Other functions such as public education, the postal service, and Social Security are to be turned over to the private sector since the federal government has no business meddling with these services.

Although two-kingdoms proponents rightly insist that the civil and spiritual powers remain in their respective God-ordained corners, it seems to me that limiting government the way Reformed libertarians do actually undermines the two-kingdoms position by forcing culture to play by a cultic rulebook.

If the sacred and secular realms are in fact distinct, and if the Reformed churches are correct in erecting a higher hurdle for what is permissible in the former sphere, then why must we limit the role of government exclusively to those few functions listed in Romans 13?

If culture must play by the church's rules as Christian libertarians insist, then why do you call yourself a two-kingdoms proponent? Or if the church may adopt the playbook of the culture as John Frame argues, then why do you call yourself Reformed?

The Law and the Flesh

According to Paul, the plight of the "wretched man" (Rom. 7:14-25) is said to be coterminous with his living "in the flesh" and serving God "according to the old way of the letter" (7:5-6). Just to make sure you didn't miss that, I'll say it another way: For Paul, living "in the flesh" is connected with life "under the law."

Apparently the NIV is wrong, and being "in the flesh" is not simply acting according to our "sinful natures." Or, just as "under the law" is redemptive-historical rather than existential, so is "in the flesh."

The Hebrew word baśar (flesh) refers to the flesh of bodies (Gen. 2:21, 23). By extension it came to connote humanity, and more specifically, human frailty (Gen. 6:12; Ps. 78:39).

The Pauline appearances of "flesh" (sarx), however, rarely denote flesh in its physical form, but usually carry the extended notion of humanity (hence his use of "Israel" or "Abraham" "according to the flesh," meaning according to human genealogy, I Cor. 10:18; Rom. 4:1). Where Paul’s employment of the flesh/Spirit motif is unique, however, is in its eschatological formulation. For Paul, the work of Christ and the subsequent gift of the Spirit signaled the entrance into this age of the life and dynamic of the age to come. The primary element of heaven is the Spirit, whose proper domain is in glory. Hence the apostle's most commonly used description of holy living as walking "according to the Spirit," or, according to the coming eschatological age. In contrast to this is life lived "according to the flesh," i.e. existence that is in accordance with this present evil age that is passing away. Thus Paul’s use of "flesh" is unique in that it highlights the progression from denoting anthropological creatureliness (humanity) to theological creatureliness (sinful humanity), and finally to eschatological existence (life in keeping with this age).

This means that neither Romans 7:14-25 nor Galatians 5:16-26 are describing a struggle between the "good" and "bad" sides of our personalities. Don't get me wrong, a struggle is surely involved in both passages. The former, however, is between nomos (law) and ego (I), while the latter is between sarx (flesh) and pneuma (Spirit).

And both are eschatological rather than existential.

The Law: Sin's Subtle Accomplice

Paul says in I Corinthians 15:56 that "the sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law." His point, it seems, is that indwelling sin has an accomplice that aids its progress and furthers its agenda. This is why Paul could say in Romans 7:5 that "our sinful passions were aroused by the law" when we were living "in the flesh."

What is it about the law that brings about such seemingly counter-productive results?

For those who insist upon reading Paul's statements about law and grace in purely existential terms (i.e., "under the law" means a state of condemnation, "under grace" means a state of justification), the only way to make sense of Paul's negative statements about the law is to assume that he must be talking not about law as such, but about a Pharisaic legalism that distorts the law into a means to earn God's blessings (see how the NIV renders Phil. 3:6, for example).

But if we say, rightly, that "under the law" and "under grace" in Romans 6:14 mean under the jurisdiction of the Old- and New Covenants respectively, then we must conclude that there was something about the former that engendered bondage in its subjects.

What was it about the Old Covenant that led to the dominion of sin?

I think the only answer that makes sense is the law's works principle ("Do this and live"). As long as Israel was serving God according to the "old way of the letter" (Rom. 7:6), they were "no different than slaves," for while they were heirs to God's blessings, they were eschatologically immature and juvenile (Gal. 3:23 - 4:7). The Mosaic law, then, functioned as a "babysitter" to keeps close tabs on God's people until they reached maturity.

What, then, signals the saints' graduation from adolescence to adulthood?

If comparing Romans 7 and 8 gives us any indication, I'd say the answer is the indwelling Spirit of the risen Christ.

Was Paul a Carnal Christian?

Countless hours and gallons of ink have been spent discussing the "wretched man" of Romans 7:14-25, the debate often centering on whether Paul is describing a regenerate or an unregenerate man.

The answer is no.

Before we get to my position, though, I will address the more popular view, namely, that Paul is speaking of himself and his own battle with the flesh.

If Paul is describing his own personal experience in Romans 7:14ff, this creates a serious contradiction between his statements in 6:14, 7:14, and 8:7. According to this position, the apostle's conversion (his individual shift from being "under the law" to being "under grace") resulted in "sin… not hav[ing] dominion over [him]." But at the same time that Paul was allegedly free from sin's dominion (6:14) he was "sold as a slave to sin" (7:14). In other words, Paul’s so-called autobiographical account in 7:14ff is a perfect description of the condition that his so-called conversion in 6:14 is supposed to have precluded.

Furthermore, when we compare 7:14 and 8:7, the "autobiographical view" would force us to say that Paul's description of himself as "carnal" in 7:14 demands that he is therefore "hostile to God" and "not in submission to God’s law" (8:7). But this description appears inconsistent with his "delight[ing] in the law of God according to the inward man" spoken of in 7:22. These inconsistencies force us to reject the view that the "wretched man" of Romans 7 describes the normal condition of the believer.

Still, there is obviously some difference between the liberated saint in Romans 6:14 and the shackled man of Romans 7:14-25. What accounts for this contrast? Is the former a "victorious Christian" who has received the second blessing of the Spirit while the latter remains a "carnal Christian"? Is the so-called "saint" of Romans 7 even a Christian at all?

I would argue that answer is found, not surprisingly, in the text itself. The contrast is drawn in 7:6 between the person who serves God according to the old way of the letter (i.e., under the [Mosaic] law), and the person who serves God according to the new way of the Spirit (i.e., under grace [of Christ]). The distinction, then, is redemptive-historical rather than existential in nature (though the latter results from the former). The Old Covenant, therefore, produces bondage, condemnation, and death (as Paul argues in II Cor. 3).

This means that when we recognize ourselves in the carnal man of Romans 7, labelling this type of sanctification the result of "a theology of the cross" as Lutheran theologians are wont to do, we are stopping short of espousing the semi-realized eschatology of the New Covenant.

Law, Grace, and the Dominion of Sin

I have been arguing that the New Covenant gift of the Holy Spirit has concrete ramifications for the believer's sanctification, for the heavenly promise, of which the Spirit is the down payment, is no longer merely a part of the "not yet" of future hope, but in some measure participates in the "already" of our present experience.

Consider Romans 6:14 ("For sin shall no longer have dominion over you, for you are not under the law, but under grace"). The traditional approach to this passage has been to interpret the categories "under the law" and "under grace" existentially, as denoting our pre- and post-conversion situation.

Some problems arise from this view. First, "law" in Paul usually refers not to an abstract a-historical principle, but to the law of Moses in particular. In fact, his other uses of "under the law" (hypo nomon) leave us no other option. When Paul spoke to those Galatians who desired to be "under the law," was he talking to people who longed to be under the condemnation of the law? When for the sake of the Jews Paul became as one "under the law," does this mean he became as one condemned by the general principle of law? When Jesus is said to have been born "under the law," does it mean that he was born under the condemnation of the law? Of course not. "Under the law" means under the jurisdiction of the Mosaic covenant.

Secondly, if "under the law" and "under grace" are existential categories describing one's being either condemned or justified, then Paul's argument is a non-sequitur. Justification does not free a person from the power of sin, it frees him from the guilt of sin.

But if Paul's categories of "under the law" and "under grace" are redemptive-historical rather than existential in nature, then it makes perfect sense that the person living under the jurisdiction of the New Covenant would be less susceptible to the dominion of sin that the Old Covenant saint. After all, we have been indwelt by the Spirit of the risen Christ, whose law sets us free from the law of sin and death.

But don't take my word for it. Paul goes on to give us two vivid examples of what life "under the law" and "under grace" look like.

Just read Romans 7 and 8.

Righteousness, Extraordinarily Considered

Having described what he calls "ordinary righteousness" (i.e., righteousness attained by obeying the covenant of works), Westerholm goes on to argue that human sin and inability to obey God's commands neccessitates that righteousness be attained in an extraordinary way: Through faith in Christ (Perspectives Old and New on Paul, pp. 273 – 84).

A comparison of Romans 2:13 and 5:9 demonstrates the necessity of another type of righteousness beyond the "ordinary." In the former verse, one is justified because he is just—he is a "doer of the law." In 5:9, however, the one who is justified is "ungodly" (v. 6) and a "sinner" (v. 8). This is an example of what Westerholm calls "extraordinary righteousness ."

The basis for this extraordinary righteousness is the death of Christ (Rom. 3:24-26), without which it would be unjust for God to justify the wicked (Ex. 23:7). In fact, in order for God to justify in this extraordinary way, he must demonstrate his own righteousness in doing so (Rom. 3:26). This is not the case with "ordinary righteousness" (such as in 2:13, where justification is to be expected).

Moreover, extraordinary righteousness is called a "free gift of righteousness" and "justification by faith" (Rom. 5:17; 3:28), the "works" apart from which extraordinary righteousness is received being acts of moral goodness. The blessedness of being counted righteous "apart from works" consists in having one's lawless deeds forgiven, having one's sins covered, and not having one's sin counted against him (Rom. 4:4-8). And finally, the phenomenon of justified by faith is the divine response to the crisis brought about by man's sin (Rom. 1:18ff).

"When the ones justified are sinners, their righteousness cannot be the 'normal' one based on God's recognition of their deeds as appropriate (righteous). Lacking such deeds themselves, they must 'receive' righteousness 'freely' (3:24), 'without works' (4:2, 5, 6), as a 'gift' (5:17) – none of which can be said of those recognized as righteous because they are doers of the law. The contrast between the righteousness of the law and that of faith amounts to that between the righteousness of those who do the good spelled out in the law and that of sinners" (p. 281, emphasis original).

Though this point falls outside Westerholm's purview, it seems clear that the Federal Vision's most glaring fault is its unwillingness to distinguish between ordinary and extraordinary righteousness (or if you prefer, between the law and the gospel).