Also He spoke this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other men—extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I possess.’ And the tax collector, standing afar off, would not so much as raise his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 18: 9-14).
It is an unfair, gross distortion to hold that Rome teaches justification by works, while we Protestants teach justification by faith. The more accurate distinction recognizes on both sides the necessity of the work of Christ. Rome affirms that His righteousness is necessary for our salvation, that without it we are without hope. That righteousness, however, becomes ours through infusion. Protestants affirm also that His righteousness is necessary for salvation, that we have no hope without it. It, however, becomes ours through imputation.
Some here are quick to affirm that our differences now amount to nothing more than a tempest in a teapot. We are arguing over two, thick, theological terms that are not a part of our ordinary language. Surely such a nuance must be insignificant. But it’s not, as Jesus’ parable illustrates.
Let’s look at these two men, what they have in common and what separates them. First, it is an unfair, gross distortion to hold that the Pharisee believes he justifies himself, all alone. How quickly we pass over the one good part of his prayer, “Lord, I thank you…” The Pharisee knows from whence came the power to make him righteous. He knows that he needed the grace of God, that God had to work in him, that God is due all the glory for his obedience. The publican likewise looks to God and His grace as His only hope. He knows where to turn, even as the Pharisee knows whom to thank.
The difference, however, is here. The Pharisee believes that God’s grace has made him whole, that he is now, albeit by the grace of God, just in himself. God helped him out. God stood him up. But now he is standing on his own two feet. He gives thanks to God that he is better than other men, that he doesn’t commit this sin and that, that he performs this duty and that. God has poured righteousness into him, and there he stands.
The publican, on the other hand, knows what he still is, a sinner. The mercy he cries out for isn’t that he would be made a saint, but that he would be a forgiven sinner. He cannot cooperate. He cannot stand. He can only, and even this is the grace of God, cry out for the mercy of God, which is found in Christ alone.
The bigger difference than the differing approaches of these two men, however, is what it meant for their eternities. Only one of these two men went home justified. Only one of these men was an adopted son of the living God. Only one of these two men will spend eternity walking with God in paradise. The other will spend eternity weeping and gnashing teeth. Teapot tempests have no such eternal consequences.
In our feel-good, dumbed-down, ecumenical age we find distinctions distasteful. In the faithful preaching of our Lord He demonstrates the difference they make. That said, may we Reformed protest against our own propensity to cry out, “I thank you Lord that I am not like other men, Arminians, semi-Pelagians, or even this fundamentalist. I score high on all theology exams and have a library that is the envy of my friends.” Instead let us, consistent with our theology, beat our breasts and cry out, “Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner.”
Tonight we continue our look at the monumental, towering book of Romans. All are welcome to our home at 7 est, or you may join us for dinner at 6:15. We will also stream the study at Facebook, RC-Lisa Sproul. We hope you’ll join us.
Thinking through the current controversy at Project Veritas, the battle between the founder, James O’Keefe and the board of directors, has led me to a prior question- is the practice of using hidden cameras, inviting others into conversation then publishing those conversations something Christians are allowed to do? Before I try to tackle that question, a few points of prolegomena. First, I have enjoyed the work of Project Veritas in the past. That is, those they expose are people I’m glad to see exposed. The causes the organization is fighting for are causes I care about. Second, my concern is moral, not legal. I know enough law to know some states require anyone recording anyone else to let them know. Other states do not have that requirement. I will be looking at the question while assuming the practice is legal. Third, I am not of a mind to believe that in all circumstances lying is sinful. I know there are many Christians who hold that view. My view is that we owe the truth to whom the truth is due. Unpacking to whom the truth is due is no easy task.
Is the truth due to Planned Parenthood, Phizer, the Hillary Clinton campaign? If one takes the view that Rahab’s lie in the book of Joshua, protecting the spies in Jericho, was just, or the Hebrew midwives lie in Exodus was just, one would do so on the basis of the reality of an ongoing war. You can lie to the enemy in war, just as the allies did in sending fake messages to be intercepted by the Nazis giving a false landing point for D-Day. The trouble is, while we are engaged in a culture war, war in this context is more of a metaphor. When one starts stretching the context of “war” to include every kind of disagreement, one opens the floodgates to lying virtually all the time.
I am likewise pulled toward suggesting these tactics are not legitimate by CS Lewis. There is a memorable scene in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader where Lucy comes across a book of spells and avails herself of the opportunity of listening in to a conversation of a friend. That friend displayed little loyalty toward Lucy, hurting her feelings. Aslan gently corrected her and let her know we ought not listen in to conversations we’re not invited to.
At the end of the day I’m coming down with my favorite answer- I don’t know. There are, however, two things I do know. First, this is a question that needs to be asked. Just because something is doable doesn’t mean it ought to be done. Second, sauce, goose, gander. That is, if we’re going to argue that this type of activity is a good thing when lefties are exposed, we’d better be prepared to accept the consequences when our allies end up exposed by the same tactics. In turn, I wonder how such tactics mesh with our call to do unto others. “Harmful to our enemies” is not a sufficient standard to earn the appellation, “A good thing to do.”
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Imagine, if you would, that you are the most powerful person in the world. Now imagine that you are also the richest person in the world. Would your life be fundamentally different? Would everything that is now ordinary about your life become extraordinary? Not according to the wisest man in the world. King Solomon reigned in Israel at the peak of its power. Israel was at that time a world power, her borders swelling. Solomon likewise enjoyed the wealth of Croesus. No one on the planet was as wealthy as Solomon. Better than all this, however, he was gifted by the God of heaven and earth with wisdom. In that wisdom, and in light of experiencing every pleasure, every distraction that the world had to offer, he spoke this heavy nugget: “There is nothing new under the sun” (Eccl. 1:9).
The brave new world, under the flashing lights and tinkling bells, is the same world it has always been. Such does not mean, of course, that we ought not be on our guard amidst swirling cultural change. We are called, after all, to discern the times. That, however, is precisely the point. We can only grasp the winds of change when we are tied to the mast of the permanent things. To walk steady in the midst of shifting sands we do not seek to better understand the sand. Instead we long to have our feet set upon the Rock. Then, and only then, will we sing a new song.
That the brave new world is the timid old world does mean, therefore, that we must hold on to the old truths. No matter how swiftly technology may be changing, it will not change these realities — that we, in ourselves, are sinners at war with God Himself. No matter how slippery the culture’s conception of truth, the truth is He sent His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have eternal life. No matter how dizzying the world becomes, He still has the whole world in His hands. And no matter how overtly the culture rebels against its rightful king, we are to be of good cheer, remembering that He has already overcome the world.
His victory, however, is not merely the cause of our good cheer; it also rightly informs our strategy. If the wheels really were coming off the world, if these dazzling changes really were something new under the sun, then we could understand the temptation to change course, to adapt, to contextualize, to go with the flow. If, however, Jesus reigns now, if He sends His Spirit in power across the globe, if He wields His Word as a two-edged sword, then we can stay with the program. We can continue, for all authority has been given to Him in heaven and on earth. By this authority He has ordered us to go and make disciples of the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that He has commanded us. We can live in faith, remembering that He is with us even as we walk through Vanity Fair — even to the end of the age.
C.S. Lewis was not only a lay theologian but was also a scholar of English literature. During the height of the Second World War, he penned an essay in which he asked why, in the midst of such a titanic struggle between good and evil, anyone would “waste” time studying literature. He then explained that those who refused to think on matters of culture will not end up with no culture but with bad culture. Culture is inevitable, both in war and in peace. No one can set it aside for a time to deal with the important stuff. In like manner, if we believe that the broader culture is so much background noise, we will not steer clear of it but will buy into it. Those who ignore culture are doomed to repeat it.
If we don’t, for the sake of the gospel, adjust for the culture, and we don’t, for the sake of the gospel, ignore the culture, what do we do? We seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. We build a culture around and upon the lordship of Christ over all things. We live our lives, as much as is possible, in peace and quietness with all men, which is, at one and the same time, the very power of His assault on the gates of hell. As we refuse to get frantic and adopt the pace of the broader culture but instead live simple, gospel-infused lives; as we raise our children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; as we hunger and thirst after righteousness; as we meditate day and night on His law and rejoice day and night over His grace; suddenly the world slows down. Our hearts are calmed. We are still, and we know that He is God.
There is nothing new under the sun. But every day, more and new things are being brought under the Son. The mustard seed is growing. The leaven is working through the lump. That Rock, unhewn by human hands, is expanding across the globe, and the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ is covering the earth as water covers the sea.
It is a tiresome truth that those of the world, both inside and outside the church, grumble that some of us inside the church make a big deal over other people’s private lives. The Bible is a big book, chock full of all sorts of things we’re not supposed to do that we do and things we’re supposed to do that we don’t. “Why,” these folks argue, “are you Christians always squawking about drag queens, gay ‘marriage’ and trannies? Why don’t you get your noses out of joint over greed, adultery or gluttony?” While a case could be made that some of these sins are more destructive than others, the key reason is that there are not great bands of the broader culture out marching and boasting about their adultery, insisting that some are just born greedy or hosting Aol You Can Eat Buffet Nights for kids at the public library.
The sexually confused find themselves caught on the horns of a great dilemma. First, they desperately want to be accepted. Second, they desperately want to offend. They want to be seen as mainstream, and they want to shock. The better the first goal is met the worse the second is met; the better the second the worse the first. The first goal is easy to understand, because it’s perfectly normal. We all want to be accepted, to be approved of. This is why the key tool of acceptance of choice for the sexually confused is to shame those of us who know they are confused. We are condemned as homophobes and bigots, as hopelessly out of touch, as close kin of Nazis.
The second goal, however, should not surprise us. The very heart of sexual confusion is the drive to act against that which is natural. It is to shake one’s fist at the very order of God and the very God of order, at the design of the Creator’s creation. Perversion, for the sexually confused, isn’t a bug of the lifestyle, but a feature.
As is so often the case with sin, there are those who struggle against it and those who give in to it. The former group are due our compassion, encouragement and prayer. The latter group are due our compassion, discouragement and prayer. The second group, by virtue of embracing their sin are not only calling evil good but demanding that we do the same. To do so is not only evil, but unkind. Homosexual behavior is not simply sin because God is a kill-joy. It is an intentional spitting in His face.
Why then the compassion and prayer? Because such once were we. It is one thing to recognize that sexual perversity is disgusting. It is another thing to act as though, apart from God’s grace, we are beyond such sin. Compassion is the acknowledgment of “there but for the grace of God go I.” Prayer is the response. Those parading down our streets claiming to be proud, though they hate this truth, are made in God’s image. And they are not beyond His grace.
It is not a difficult thing to discern the nature of someone else’s god. Some people carry their religion on their sleeve, advertising their spiritual commitments on bumper stickers or t-shirts. You can tell the Amish by their clothing, even as you can Hasidic Jews or even Hare Krishnas. When a man throws down a mat, faces Mecca and begins to pray, one need not guess to whom he is praying. On the other hand, the world is full of hypocrites. Self-reports about one’s religious commitments may not be wholly accurate. Sometimes we fool ourselves, and sometimes we are fooled by others. A better test than what we wear, or even what we say may well be this- who is our law-giver? The “Christian” who argues that God wants him to be happy, and therefore sanctions his adultery may say he worships God. Instead he worships himself, for he is a law unto himself.
Of course in our day the most widely held and passionately affirmed creed is this- there is no true and false, no right and wrong. Everyone decides these things for themselves. And so one could argue, rightly so, that the god of this culture is this mythical creature I call “God-to-me.” Relativism means we can each define God for ourselves. We can make up our own religion because in the end we are our own god. As soon as we speak this strange god’s name, God-to-me, we are affirming not that we are God’s creatures, but god’s maker. It matters not what follows in our actual description. (Interesting to note, however, everyone’s personal god is rather similar to everyone else’s. The name usually is followed with these kinds of attributes- “God-to-me is gracious, kind, forgiving, wants us to be happy…” How come no one ever says, “God-to-me is a consuming fire, filled to the brim with His just wrath at every sin and sinner”?)
I’m afraid, however, that we are only beginning to scratch the surface of our culture’s sundry forms of idolatry. For when we begin to challenge the clear, obvious foolishness of relativism, especially as it applies to our theology, we find there is another god ready to step up in God-to-me’s defense. If we challenge this nonsense, “Well, God-to-me says your god is silly, foolish and false, and if you don’t bow down to him you will perish forever” what do we hear next? We are reminded at this point that we are in America, and in America we have freedom of religion. We have the first amendment. The truth is that here in America the first amendment trumps the first commandment.
The broader culture has come to understand the First Amendment to mean not that any and all religions are equally legal in this country but that all religions are equally valid in this country. And that is where our deeper idolatry is made known. We seem to think that the state can not only determine what is legal, but in making this determination, can determine what is right or wrong. Legality is morality. In the absence of any true transcendent source of law or revelation, we will usually find the state filling that vacuum. Because men disagree, man cannot determine right and wrong, true and false. Instead that is determined by the closest we can come to collective man- the state.
The First Amendment, so understood then, creates here in America the same situation that ruled in Rome. The Roman empire, like the American empire, did not particularly care what religion those within its borders practiced. This is why they could get along with the Jewish authorities during the life of Jesus. You could worship Yahweh. You could worship Juno. You could worship your own dog for all Rome cared. They had only one ultimate requirement- that you swear absolute loyalty to Rome. You could indeed have other gods before, in the sense of being in its presence, the god of the Roman state. You just could not have any god before, in the sense of having a higher loyalty, the god of the Roman state. The Christians who went to their deaths under the Caesars went not because they didn’t have the right theology, but because they refused to confess the one great creed of that culture, Caesar is Lord.
In our day the state is not quite so easily identified with its leader. No one, so far, is required to bow before the President. Increasingly, however, we are being told that our highest loyalty must be to the state. We may not fly any flag, including the Christian flag, higher than the federal flag. We may not publicly pray to the Lord Jesus in the government’s schools.
The broader culture hates uncompromised Christians for this very reason. We are condemned as radicals, fundamentalists, extremists precisely because at the end of the day our loyalty is to the Lord of heaven and earth, because we will allow no gods before Him. We are a dangerous breed, not because we don’t share their convictions, but because we don’t share their loyalties. For us the First Commandment trumps the First Amendment. For them it is just the opposite. Two competing Gods are seeking our attention, our devotion, our worship. And the Word of God, through Joshua, and through Elijah calls us to no longer waver between two opinions, to choose this day whom we will serve.
Sorry folks. We hope to be back next week with our Romans study.
