By the Law No Flesh is Justified

Before continuing with the Gospel of John, I wanted to first make some comments on Lehi’s words to his son Jacob, because I believe they’re very relevant here.

“And the way is prepared from the fall of man,” Lehi tells his son, “And salvation is free.”

What does he mean by salvation is free? And what is salvation, anyway? What does that require, if anything, on my part?

He explains:

“And men are instructed sufficiently that they know good from evil. And the law is given unto men. And by the law no flesh is justified; or, by the law men are cut off. Yea, by the temporal law they were cut off; and also, by the spiritual law they perish from that which is good, and become miserable forever."

Hence, salvation is free. For if we cannot be justified by the works of the law, then there is nothing we can offer in exchange for our salvation. There is no merit in our works, neither partial nor entire. The law, which is the only basis upon which our works could have merit, only condemns us. By the temporal law, because of the Fall, we are cut off. And by the spiritual law we are all sinners. Sure, some people are taught right from wrong better than others. But simply having the law doesn’t offer us any advantage. In fact, it condemns us all the more.

Lehi continues:

"Wherefore, redemption cometh in and through the Holy Messiah; for he is full of grace and truth."

Is this just poetry, or is there a reason to say both in and through?

One way of looking at it is that to be in Christ is to be, as Alma puts it, encircled “in the arms of safety.” While otherwise we are “exposed to the whole law of the demands of justice.” It also conveys a sense of being stationary and unmovable. Like the words of Luther's hymn, “A mighty fortress is our God.”

On the other hand, being saved through Christ conveys something more dynamic. It suggests forward motion, progression, or transformation. Thus, in these three words is captured both the static and dynamic nature of Christ’s redeeming influence. There is another aspect to it, as well, which we will see in a moment.

This redemption is made possible because he is "full of grace and truth." A description also used by John. Through him we receive both enabling power and instruction. Though instruction probably isn't the best word to use here. Tutorial, or tutelage, might be better. That still falls short of describing it, but I’ll come back to this in a moment. Both of these are ministered to us through the same medium by which the Father and Son themselves are bound together in perfect oneness. That is, through the Holy Spirit or third personage of the Godhead.

As Jesus promised his disciples, “Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth.”

We need both grace and truth to be saved. We cannot, in a sense, be saved by grace alone. For even grace requires participation on our part. Likewise, truth is of no effect without the power to understand it. Without the enabling power of grace it’s just information, and it affects no change within us. In fact, as Paul tells us, it would appear as mere foolishness to us.

But we, having received the “mind of Christ” through grace, are enabled to understand “the things that are freely given to us of God.” (There’s that word free again) And so it is by the power of his grace, and the infusion of his truth into our beings, that we are saved. The two are interdependent. Without this infusion, we would be unable to exercise faith. In fact, in a sense, this infusion is faith.

We often get the idea, I think, that faith is just something we do. It’s our part in this whole salvation thing, and we chose to have it or not to have it. To believe or not to believe. In reality, however, faith is a gift from God born out of desire. Our desire, or will, being the only thing we can truly offer to God. Just as physical life arises out of the union of two things, so spiritual life arises out of the union of human desire with divine truth. The lesser in the likeness of the greater.

In both instances, there is one who selflessly offers themself as the medium through which this life-giving process can take place. In human gestation and birth we find blood, water and spirit all dramatically present, as well as a very literal realization of this idea of “in and through.” And this ought to open our minds to the rich meaning in that phrase.

In the case of the greater, Lehi has this to say:

“Behold, he offereth himself a sacrifice for sin, to answer the ends of the law, unto all those who have a broken heart and a contrite spirit [there’s that human desire]; and unto none else can the ends of the law be answered.”

Then he sums it all up in these words:

“Wherefore, how great the importance to make these things known unto the inhabitants of the earth, that they may know that there is no flesh that can dwell in the presence of God, save it be through the merits, and mercy, and grace of the Holy Messiah, who layeth down his life according to the flesh, and taketh it again by the power of the Spirit, that he may bring to pass the resurrection of the dead, being the first that should rise.”

Thus Christ has a superabundance of both grace and truth. He is able to satisfy the deficit both for those who have sinned ignorantly without the law, and those who have sinned knowingly possessing it. So long as we are truly penitent - so long as our desire for righteousness is sincere - no one is beyond his reach. His truth is able to dispel all darkness. To sweep away the clouds of ignorance and regret, and fill us with the light of hope. To replace fear and confusion with understanding. Even if we can do no more than desire the strength to believe, his grace can heal us.

As Christian author John Piper has put it, “Grace is not simply leniency when we have sinned. Grace is the enabling gift and power of God not to sin. Grace is power, not just pardon.”

This is John’s message. And Lehi’s message, as well.

Of His Fullness Have all We Received - Part 1

 “And of his fullness have all we received, and grace for grace. For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ.” (John 1: 16 - 17)

When I first read this (though not actually the first time) it struck me as immediately odd. How could they have already received of God’s fullness at the time John’s Gospel was written? Didn’t he still have much more to give them? But then I realized that subtle differences in how we interpret one or two words in a sentence can dramatically change its meaning.

The Greek word ex, translated here as of, can actually be translated as from or out from. In fact, it most often is. And so, what I believe John is actually saying here isn’t that they had received a fullness of all he has to offer, but rather that they had received from his fullness. That is, from his abundant supply. For as he had just told us, he is “full of grace and truth.”

The Greek word pleroma, translated here as fullness, carries the idea of filling something up or completing it. Not that we are yet complete, or that the saints of John’s day were complete, but that Christ is complete. He is lacking nothing. He is mighty to save. His arm, as Isaiah tells us, is not shortened at all that he cannot redeem. 

Also that he has held nothing back from us. That the cup of wrath was filled to overflowing, and he drained it to the dregs, satisfying all the demands of God’s eternal justice. Swallowing up all the badness of a fallen creation into his own being. 

Consider these words from Isaiah 51:

Awake, awake, clothe yourself in power,

Awake O arm of Yahweh,

As in former days,

In generations of ages,

Are not you he, the hewer of Rahab?

The piercer of the dragon?

Are you not the dryer-up of the sea?

The waters of the great deep?

The maker of the sea’s depths,

A way for the redeemed to pass through?

Rahab is thought to be a poetic name for Egypt. Other possible meanings are storm, sea-monster, or spacious place (as in the abyss). The passage carries the sense of one able to drain that which is unfathomably deep and extensive. To pierce the heart of an immeasurable monster and cut it to pieces. A divine hero to far surpass anything in the mythologies of men.

Another translation of pleroma that appears often in the New Testament is fulfillment. He is the fulfillment of the Law. The hope of the ages. The eternal Word and fullness of all God’s promises materialized in living flesh. He who has carried to completion all the Father’s will concerning him. And we are the recipients of the power that flows from that fulfillment.

Thus this fullness isn't so much something that we have already received or attained to, but what he possesses and is able to offer us. In this single word is expressed Christ's super-abundance, and the perfection of his grace.

John tells us that we receive from this abundant supply “grace for grace.” Note, however, that he doesn’t say grace to grace, or grace upon grace. But grace for grace. The Greek anti meaning over against, instead of, in exchange for, or on account of. Thus, not grace in exchange for merit, or grace in exchange for effort, but grace in exchange for grace.

And so every blessing that we receive from God, in the context of our salvation, is predicated upon us returning back to him that which he gives us freely.

He gives us the gift of faith, and for our faith we receive all things through his grace. He gives us the gift of righteousness, and for our righteousness the gifts of his grace are multiplied. Not that we are actually righteous, but we are made partakers of what C.S. Lewis calls the "Christ-life," as a foretaste of "good things to come." Thus as we render to him all wherewith his mercy endows us, we are thereby able to abound in him.

It is the parable of the talents. “Whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath.” Of ourselves we can merit nothing, and yet he grants to us freely that by which we are able to merit all things.

Or, put another way, he grants us free access to his own infinite supply of merit, and all that he requires is that we make earnest use of it. He promises that whatsoever we ask the Father in his name - truly in his name - will be given to us.

“Ask and ye shall receive,” he commands us, “That your joy may be full.”

There’s so much more that could be said on this, but unfortunately that’s all I have time for right now. In the next post, I plan to continue with some thoughts on the second part of John’s statement, found in John 1: 17.

Blessedness

 If asked to cite a passage of scripture that talks about blessings, there’s a good chance you’d think of the first part of the Sermon on the Mount, known as the Beatitudes. Here the Greek word makarios, translated into English as blessed, means to be in a fortunate or enviable position. In other words, to receive a greater share of God’s favor than others.

However, what Jesus describes here aren’t the sort of people we would naturally think of as enviable. The poor. The meek. The hungry. The mournful. The merciful. The persecuted. And yet all of these he puts in the context of recognizing our reliance on God, and his enabling and sanctifying grace.

He promises that we will be comforted, forgiven, purified, filled with righteousness, see God, and as his children, inherit his heavenly kingdom when it is come upon the earth.

What he is promising us here is the gift of transformation. Of being made new creatures in Christ. While there is no guarantee of the earthly blessedness and protection we may desire, he promises that he will cause all things to work together for the good of those who love him. Even our deepest sorrows will become the instruments of his grace.

Ask yourself, what is this transformation worth to me? Do I hunger and thirst after righteousness? His righteousness. Do I yearn to be freed from sin? To be pure as he is pure. To see his face and know that I have become like him.

Even if I don’t always feel this way, do I turn to him each day, and seek for him to renew this desire within me?