In last week’s article, we considered an absurd doctrine popularly known as, “once saved, always saved.”  There are passages in the Bible that are sometimes interpreted to mean that there is no responsibility “to keep oneself unstained from the world” (Ja 1.27), if one has already been saved.  But in order to believe that, you have to ignore what the rest of the book says.

It’s a curious fact, then, that some of this false teaching’s harshest critics hold to an unspoken and barely disguised version of the very same doctrine!

Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practice the very same things. We know that the judgment of God rightly falls on those who practice such things. Do you suppose, O man—you who judge those who practice such things and yet do them yourself—that you will escape the judgment of God?

(Romans 2.1-3)

Later in the same chapter, Paul comes back to this point, and gives a few illustrations, including this one, in verse 22: “You who abhor idols, do you rob temples?”  In the other examples, the prohibition and practice line up perfectly, one to one.  This, however, is different.  When the person who preaches against idolatry nevertheless himself “rob[s] temples”—whether Paul means this literally or figuratively—he commits an offense that looks different on the outside, but amounts to the very same sin. 

This disguised false teaching is wrapped up in the oft-repeated question, “have you obeyed the gospel?”  What does the question mean?  Is it found in the Scriptures?  There are three passages that discuss obeying the gospel; let’s look at them.

For it is time for judgment to begin at the household of God; and if it begins with us, what will be the outcome for those who do not obey the gospel of God?

(1 Peter 4.17)

What tense is the verb obey in that sentence?  Whereas we earlier asked, “have you obeyed the gospel?” the Apostle says punishment is on its way for those who do not obey it.  We were inclined to put it in the present perfect tense, but in the Scripture it stands in the simple present—an ongoing activity, rather than a completed action.  Is this esoteric and nerdy?  Yes.  But does it matter?  Absolutely!

The Scriptures themselves are full of examples that demonstrate the importance of precision in interpreting them (e.g. Mt 22.31-32, Ga 3.16, He 4.8-10).  It’s obvious that this meticulousness can be taken too far, but it’s even more obvious that a refusal to give due attention to precisely what God has said, is very dangerous indeed.

There are some things in them that are hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other Scriptures.

(2 Peter 3.16)

The phrase in question appears basically the same, in 2 Thessalonians 1.8, referring to an ongoing activity, obedience to the gospel.  Perhaps one would suggest that what Paul and Peter both meant to imply was that judgment is coming for those who “do not obey the gospel” before the day of judgment arrives; but the Greek language would require a different tense for that.  In fact, Paul used this other option, in the remaining passage: “But they have not all obeyed the gospel” (Ro 10.16).  So, there it is.  We can talk about having obeyed the gospel, in the present perfect tense, and that’s a load off the minds the three or so people who were worried about it.  But it’s not that simple, is it?

We’ve been dancing around the problem.  Let’s address it head-on.  When someone asks whether you have obeyed the gospel, or tells you when he obeyed the gospel, he’s not using the phrase in the 1 Peter or 2 Thessalonians sense; he’s using it in the Romans sense.  He’s talking about when he believed and was baptized.  And that’s perfectly appropriate, in and of itself.  The problem is that, by ignoring the first two Scriptures in favor of a narrow interpretation of just the third, we brush aside the Christian’s ongoing responsibility to continue obeying!  Of course, no one ever seriously says out loud that he can do what he wants with impunity, regardless of God’s plain instructions in some dusty old book, because he was once dunked in the water by someone who said the proper words; but neither does anyone seriously present the once saved, always saved position along similar lines!  Instead, the clear thinker must resort to impressive mental gymnastics in order to square that obviously absurd doctrine with his own observations of the world, never mind what the Bible says!  But in preaching once saved, always saved, he misleads the simple into a false sense of security, encouraging them to profess faith in Jesus, and then disregard any of Jesus’ commandments they don’t much like.  It is no different, to make an idol out of baptism and give little attention to the lifelong obedience to the gospel that Jesus demands of us.

But what, then, does it mean, to obey the gospel?  We’ll examine that in greater detail, in next week’s article.  For now, consider how the author of Hebrews exhorted Christians:

Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience. For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account.

(Hebrews 4.11-13)

Jeremy Nettles

There’s a false doctrine often bandied about, that’s sometimes labeled, “once saved, always saved.”  This isn’t the most charitable label to assign to the argument, but it does sum up the premise well.  Supporters have a list of Scriptures to cite.  For example:

“All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out.”

(John 6.37)

Never is a strong word!  And this same concept is reflected in Paul’s writing.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

(Romans 8.1)

For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

(Romans 8.38-39)

These are all uplifting, and encourage Christians to feel an great sense of spiritual security, regardless of material circumstances.  Yet, while Jesus said he would not cast out those who come to him, he also said later that Judas, one of his closest friends and followers, whom his Father had given to him, was now “lost” (Jn 17.12).  Nevertheless, what Jesus said was true—he didn’t cast Judas out; instead, Judas himself chose to leave Jesus’ side.

Similarly, if we choose to leave his side, the shelter from condemnation we once enjoyed, will not follow us into the realm of darkness.  Nothing has the power to get between the Christian and his God; but God does not force the unwilling to abide in his love.  If he did, could it be called genuine, mutual love?  This is why Paul, who made it so clear that in Christ is found great security, also made continual efforts to restore erring Christians, telling some, “You are severed from Christ, you who would be justified by the law; you have fallen away from grace” (Ga 3.4).  In another case, Paul worried about the Christians of Thessalonica, whom he had been forced to leave prematurely.  “I sent to learn about your faith, for fear that somehow the tempter had tempted you and our labor would be in vain” (1Th 3.5).  And in perhaps the clearest of his testimonies to this effect, Paul wrote, “Now the Spirit expressly says that in later times some will depart from the faith” (1Ti 4.1). 

As is often the case, the false teaching grows from a kernel of truth.  Not all who claim to be Christians, really are what they say.

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.”

(Matthew 7.21)

Plenty of people profess to believe in Jesus, but he himself tells us, that profession means nothing, if it’s not consistent with your actions!  Sometimes it takes a while for this sort of person to be found out, but eventually, he will show his true colors.

They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us. But they went out, that it might become plain that they all are not of us.

(1 John 2.19)

Proponents of the “once saved, always saved” doctrine might point to these verses and others, and explain apparent cases of apostasy by asserting that these people were never really Christians in the first place, despite all earthly appearances.  This does, of course, happen.  But in the cases we already considered—the Galatians, Thessalonians, and the foretold apostates of “later times”—the Scriptures all attribute genuine faith to those who later turned against Jesus!

We could suppose that the Galatian Christians, for example, had never really believed or obeyed, and while they might have fooled each other, themselves, and even Paul, God knew they weren’t saved!  Does this hold up?  No, not really.  In the same letter, Paul asks,

Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?

(Galatians 3.2-3)

To borrow the language of an earlier episode, we could say God himself “bore witness to them, by giving them the Holy Spirit just as he did to” the Apostles at the start (Ac 15.8).  Yet, when Paul wrote, they were “severed from Christ” (Ga 5.4)

Ok, so it’s a wrong interpretation.  What’s the big deal?  People get confused about interpreting the Bible all the time, and it doesn’t mean they’re always destined for hell due to every honest misunderstanding.  But ideas have consequences.  This is why John wrote in such severe terms to stamp out the budding gnostic doctrines in the late 1^st century, and why, for that matter, Paul was so intent on keeping the Galatian Christians from putting their faith in observance of the Law of Moses.  Many serious proponents of the “once saved, always saved” teaching don’t overtly use it to justify a sinful lifestyle, but the unserious ones do, and end up becoming those who call on Jesus as Lord, yet do not do what he tells them (Lk 6.46). 

All the more reason to teach what the Bible says, without omission, and without adding  man’s ideas.  Let’s give the last word to Jesus:

“But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember therefore from where you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first. If not, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place, unless you repent.”

(Revelation 2.4-5)

Jeremy Nettles

Accordingly, though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do what is required, yet for love’s sake I prefer to appeal to you…

(Philemon 8-9)

There are many differences between the Law of Moses and the New Covenant with Christ.  We could consider the importance of physical lineage, or the undying connection to a rather minuscule plot of land, or the dietary restrictions, or the pattern of animal sacrifices, or the earthly place of worship; and we’d be far from exhausting our options!  But perhaps the greatest distinction between the Old and the New is less easily pinned down.  We can get a glimpse of it by considering God’s method of enforcing his instructions in each one.  “Anyone who has set aside the law of Moses dies without mercy on the evidence of two or three witnesses” (He 10.28).  This was not, of course, the penalty for every infraction, but it represents the end, or extreme, of its foundational principles.  What about “the new and living way” (v20)?  The author of Hebrews doesn’t give a straightforward answer on that, but instead poses a rhetorical question:

How much worse punishment, do you think, will be deserved by the one who has trampled underfoot the Son of God, and has profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and has outraged the Spirit of grace?

(Hebrews 10.29)

After leaving us to contemplate the seriousness of rejecting God’s grace, he gives us a final hint, before moving on: “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (v31).  He’s talking about being sent to hell—an eternal punishment.

Of course, both we and the author of Hebrews recognize that death was not the end of the line for the Jews of old.  But the point is that God didn’t tell them much about what lay beyond the grave; their system was centered on their perception of the physical realm.  Despite living in the same physical world, we are entrusted with much more information, enabling us to look beyond and see glimpses of its spiritual  underpinnings. 

This shift, from a physical outlook to a spiritual one, is among the major distinctions between the Old and New ways; but as it pertains to our eternal destiny, whether each one of us will rest in God’s house forever, or be banished to the outer darkness, the difference is less obvious.  Moses and Elijah faced the same options as we do.  And yet, while this physical life continues, God uses a very different tactic to effect our obedience to his will, today.

Many—in fact, most, of God’s basic, moral expectations of us are unchanged from those of the ancient Israelites, not to mention their Gentile neighbors.  But for his chosen, special people, God instituted a system that would enforce his rules ruthlessly, punishing many infractions by death, and requiring the governing authorities to enforce the rest, with the implicit threat of violence standing back in the shadows, as an offense might escalate from a property dispute between neighbors, to open rebellion against the powers instituted by God.  The idea was that, if you have the threat of death looming over you at every moment, you’ll behave.  It seems like it would work, but it really didn’t.  The best that one could hope, under the Law of Moses, was to avoid being convicted of a grave sin and executed.  And yet, despite the bar being set so low, transgressions abounded.  Even if the rate of conviction was low, most sins deserving swift and harsh punishment went unnoticed or ignored.

In contrast to this, Jesus introduced a different set of assumptions.  The best you can hope to do, having been freed from the yoke of sin, is to go above and beyond any reasonable expectation.  “And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles” (Mt 5.41).  This idea is revolutionary, but we often fail to grasp its full extent.  Jesus is not merely replacing one unreasonable requirement with another.  The Romans graciously granted themselves the privilege of compelling their conquered subjects to drop whatever petty and meaningless tasks occupied them—like gathering food for their hungry families, for instance—and press them into service, albeit briefly, to carry any burden required, up to a distance of one mile.  This was legal, inasmuch as the rulers decreed it; but the question whether it was just is entirely different.  It’s easy to imagine how anyone thus drafted into service would resent the Roman oppressors, and only grudgingly obey.  Rather than giving hatred a home in your heart, Jesus says, instead, to volunteer additional service in such circumstances! 

But there’s a hitch.  The Roman soldier compelled you to go one mile; but Jesus’ commandment means he’s actually forcing you to go two!  But if you’re forced to go two miles, shouldn’t you then go four?  Or eight?  Or sixteen?  You can see how quickly this becomes absurd.  Is Jesus’ instruction incoherent?  No; but we’re reading it wrong, by making it into just another form of compulsion.  The point is to go beyond what is expected, and not to impose that as a new, rigid benchmark.  Under the Law of Moses, the best one could hope was to live up to the standard.  Jesus encourages you to exceed it, instead.  This is why Paul, although he could have given Philemon a direct instruction as an Apostle, chose instead to persuade him.  It’s so much more meaningful, when good deeds well up from a loving heart, rather than fear.  While a day of judgment is coming, Jesus prefers to appeal to you, rather than compel you into his service, “in order that your goodness might not be by compulsion but of your own accord” (Phm 14).

Jeremy Nettles

“So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.”

(Matthew 7.12)

Serving as the conclusion to Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, this surprisingly straightforward summary of God’s commandments, both under the Law of Moses and in our new covenant with Christ, has been called “the golden rule” since at least the 17^th century.  Jesus here makes it explicit that this principle underpins the rest of the Law—at least, the portions that dealt with the Israelites’ behavior toward others.  We could appeal instead to another foundational principle for their conduct toward God: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might” (De 6.5)  Since this golden rule is just a restating of Leviticus 19.18, “you shall love your neighbor as yourself,” we can say that between the golden rule and the commandment to love God, everything is covered—as Jesus himself said, in Matthew 22.40. 

And yet, you may have noticed that the celebrated golden rule is usually worded a little differently: “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  It doesn’t appear in exactly those words, in any of the major translations of the Bible; but it is an accurate retelling of what Jesus said?  Yes; however, the emphasis strikes us differently, when we stop to consider both versions; and this forms a good exercise for us to explore the facets of what is, by all appearance, a very simple and straightforward rule from the mouth of God’s own Son.

Do unto others…

When we read these words first, it gets us thinking about what, exactly, we are doing to other people.  It’s as if our conscience has stumbled upon a story that’s already in progress, and now it must judge our present behavior.  What exactly am I doing?

Considering the rule from this angle, we ask ourselves, would I want this person to treat me as I am currently treating him?  That’s a good question to ask!  We’re supposed to “examine” and “test” ourselves (2Co 13.5), and a quick confirmation of this sort can confirm to us that we are pleasing God, when we affirm that we would, indeed, appreciate being on the receiving end of our own behavior.

Of course, the answer isn’t always affirmative!  We must also consider the negative.  If we discover that our behavior is out of line, we must cease and desist!  This is the prohibitive side of the rule, and is neatly summed up in the words every parent has spoken to his child, “would you like it if he did that to you?  Then don’t do it to him!” 

Of course, these two ways of looking at the rule amount to the same thing; but we must consider both the positive and negative application of the rule, in order to have the whole picture, and abide by Jesus’ word.  Already, this twofold approach is helpful; but we still have to consider the un-simplified version of the rule, as Jesus himself stated it.

As you would have them do unto you…

Jesus didn’t begin with a consideration of our own deeds; rather, he first pointed us to consider the actions of others.  This isn’t supposed to be merely a way to sort our actions into those which we ought to stifle, and those we may continue.  The golden rule does tell us to stop and consider what we’re already doing; but it also tells us to weigh our impulses, and make a decision before we act.

Perhaps someone mistreats you, saying hurtful things to you—or worse, about you.  Perhaps you’ve been the victim of theft, or just have a cantankerous neighbor who makes life difficult.  Your natural impulse is to choose a course of action that’s likely to make that person stop behaving in this way.  Sometimes that means you want to hide and just hope the problem goes away; it rarely does.  Next, you’re inclined to find a way to hurt whoever is hurting you.  Perhaps this involves direct confrontation; or perhaps it instead comes in the form of manipulation behind the scenes.  You could try give the sinner an equal dose of his own medicine; or you could deliberately escalate the conflict to make sure he will never, ever do something to hurt you again.  Unless, of course, he does; and what comes, next?  Rather than following these lower impulses, you should stop and consider the golden rule—regardless of how you actually are being treated, do you want to be treated that way?  If not, then you shouldn’t do it to someone else—even someone who has harmed you.  “Do not repay evil for evil” (1Pe 3.9).

But we still haven’t arrived at the highest application of Jesus’ instruction.  The golden rule isn’t just supposed to keep you from harming others, or else provide you with positive reinforcement when you treat them well.  It’s supposed to plant seeds of love, that will sprout and blossom into deeds you otherwise would not have done.  What sort of actions did Jesus tell you to take?  He first told you to contemplate “whatever you wish that others would do to you,” even when they don’t do it.  Perhaps we should say, especially when they don’t.  This is what it means to love your neighbor. 

“But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same?”

(Matthew 5.44-46)

Jeremy Nettles

“For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”

(Matthew 6.14-15)

We like to keep things simple, but we are endlessly bombarded with an immense amount of sensory information.  This includes current states of being like pain or pleasure; as well as memories of previous experience, like the appearance of your seventh-grade English teacher, which some words on a screen were able to call to your mind; and also our imagination, which makes use of the same faculties to consider unrealized ideas.

Let’s focus on our sense of sight.  Roughly half of your brain is used in processing visual information.  In fact, when your eyes are open, almost two-thirds of the neural activity in your brain is devoted to vision.  We see a constant barrage of information, and most of it is utterly irrelevant.  Test it out.  Without the aid of a mirror, you can still see the tip of your nose, can’t you?  Now consider your horizontal field of view—without moving your head or eyes, you can see roughly 210º, out of a 360º circle.  Your visual acuity drops the farther you get from the center of the field, but you’re still collecting a mind-bogglingly huge amount of information, and your brain updates it constantly—a gross oversimplification would be to say that your brain processes, at the very least, about 30 “frames” each second, and perhaps many more.  This is a staggering amount of information.  We have to sort the things that matter from the things that can be ignored, just as you ignore that you can see your nose.

When we introduce other people into the mix, life gets even more complicated, because they’re all acting in ways that we have to sort out and categorize in our minds.  When they hurt us, or behave in ways of which we disapprove, the simplest thing for us to do, is to move that person from one mental category to another—from “benign” to “dangerous”—and then treat that person accordingly.  This is incredibly useful to us.  We don’t have the time or resources to give each person a fair assessment at every moment, and then decide again whether to tolerate interaction with that person, during which we might end up on the receiving end of his bad behavior.  If your brother steals from you, why should you allow him to do so again?  Sure, you could reason that perhaps there are extenuating circumstances, or contrition, and that your relationship with your brother is valuable enough to accept the risk of a repeat offense, signing up to have to scrutinize his demeanor and actions more closely, for the remainder of your lives.  But it’s easier to move your brother from the mental category of “trustworthy and helpful,” to that of “too dangerous,” sever the relationship, and move on with your life.

There is great utility in writing sinners off.  It keeps life relatively simple, and frees you up to devote your attention to other matters, like where your next meal is coming from, or how to achieve a long-term goal, or whether a different, as yet uncategorized person presents a mortal threat to you, or is just a helpful grocery story bagger.  But God isn’t primarily concerned with what’s useful in our fleshly pursuits, is he?  Each human being is made in God’s image, and each immortal soul carries incalculable value.  Paul tells us,

we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil.

(2 Corinthians 5.10)

As we dole out little judgments in this life, categorizing the people around us as “good” or “bad,” the prospect of our own day in God’s court may not frighten us, until we realize that we, too, have done evil deeds, as it is written, “Surely there is not a righteous man on earth who does good and never sins” (Ec 7.20).  What’s to stop God from treating us in exactly the same fashion as we have treated others, putting us with the goats, rather than the sheep (Mt 25.32), and sending us into the outer darkness forever? 

Praise the Lord!  He sent his Son as a sacrifice, to bear the penalty for our sins, and give his own sinless life in exchange for ours!  Despite the evil we’ve done, God is willing to forgive us!  What will we do with that forgiveness? 

“So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt. But when that same servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him, he began to choke him, saying, ‘Pay what you owe.’ So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ He refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the debt.”

(Matthew 18.26-30)

It’s easy to find yourself behaving like the man in this parable, holding sin over the head of someone who demonstrates the same repentance and contrition as you have shown before God.  What became of the unforgiving servant in Jesus’ parable?

“And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt. So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart.”

(Matthew 18.34-35)

We must forgive, or we forfeit our own forgiveness.  But when?  What is a sufficient display of penitence?  That part is simple:

“If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him, and if he sins against you seven times in the day, and turns to you seven times, saying, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive him.”

(Luke 17.3-4)

Jeremy Nettles