Monday, May 19, 2008

Living Sola Gratia

“I hope I’ll make it to heaven. I really do. But… I need to keep living a good life,” a relative told me. His eyes were misty. “I just hope it's good enough.”

“But it's impossible to earn God’s favor. That’s why we need the Cross so desperately! Ephesians 2:7-8 says that we’re saved by grace, through faith—not from ourselves, because it’s a gift of God, and not by works, so that we have no ground for boasting. Our acceptance with God isn’t dependant upon our good deeds. If it were, we would have no hope, because we’re all guilty!”

The words ran off my tongue easily. When it comes to talking about sin, forgiveness, and grace, the ground is natural and familiar.

And yet, it’s strangely ironic. When I articulated the gospel to my relative, he wasn’t the only one within earshot who needed to hear it. There was one other person in the immediate vicinity who needed to hear the same message. Me.

I’m a Christian. I’m a staunch proponent of “saved by grace, through faith, not by works”. I don’t doubt the authenticity of my salvation. And yet, my need for the gospel is still genuinely desperate on a daily basis—not because I'm afraid of losing my salvation, but because Christians must always remember.

I needed to dwell on the fact that God’s favor can’t be earned. I needed to linger on the unchanging truth that my acceptance with God—not only my salvation, but my day-to-day acceptance—is not contingent upon what I do, but upon what Christ has already accomplished on the Cross for me.

As I talked with my relative, the greatness of the gospel pierced my own heart once again.

Sola Gratia

“This, not of yourselves, but the gift of God.” Ephesians 2:8-9

Sola gratia is a Latin term from a by-gone age, but don't discard it as irrelevant; the words mean "grace alone". The Reformed doctrine teaches that we are rescued from eternal damnation only by God's free gift, not personal merit.

Sola gratia is the heartbeat of Christianity. Its indispensable importance is not restricted to the unsaved; the doctrine of sola gratia is a message of equally indispensable importance for every believer, on a day-to-day, moment-by-moment basis.

Why? Because I’ve observed that human beings tend to have the spiritual memory span of goldfish with Alzheimer’s. We readily forget to live out the very truths we claim to hold the closest.

Combine that fact with this one, and we have a serious conundrum on our hands: The cry of sola gratia happens to be a message that revolts against every fiber of our sinful nature.

On the other hand, it’s as easy as breathing to pursue good works with self-righteous alacrity. Do you see the potentials for legalism beginning to spring up?

I do, because my struggle with the issue runs deep. Remove my heart but a short distance from Calvary, and before you can say “legalism”, that’s exactly where I am.

With clock-like infallibility, my motive for holiness makes an immediate, dangerous switch when the Cross ceases to be my sole focus. I start to look down my nose at people who hold to less stringent standards than I do. I compare my spirituality to that of my fellow believers’. I frown inwardly at the Christians who don’t share all my convictions on guy-girl relationships. In short, I'm fully capable of effectually reducing the glory of the gospel to an uppity, me-centered religion.

Even within the secure bounds of theological accuracy, our natural inclination is to behave as though we can gain God’s approval through top-notch, sparkling performances. We’re quick to fall back on ourselves, but slow to fall on grace.

C. J. Mahaney clarifies and cautions,

"A lot of us wrongly stereotype a legalistic person as one who doesn’t go to the movies, or who thinks that any music with a beat is evil. Legalism is much more subtle and serious than that. At its heart legalism is self-atonement for the purpose of self-glorification and ultimately self-worship."
Rather than flinging ourselves completely upon God’s grace, legalism belittles the Cross and diminishes God’s glory. It shifts the focal point from God to man.

Mahaney goes on:

"I can assure you that in the next 24 hours you and I will face the temptation of legalism — we will once again be challenged and confronted by the legalist within. In order to combat this sinful tendency in our own hearts, it's critical for us to stay planted in the good of the gospel — to continue in the message we began with."
Legalism is in direct opposition to the very heart of the gospel. And as Mahaney aptly put it: "We each have a legalist lurking within."

Good Works… For The Praise of His—Sorry, My Glory

Hinduism, Confucianism, Mormonism, Islam, Sikhism. They’re all major world religions, and they're apples and oranges from each other. Notably, however, in spite of their many differences, at least one belief is shared in common among them all: Acceptance with God is something to be achieved. So, as with any other achievement, the credit goes to…you.

Christianity promulgates a radically different, mind-bending, life-altering truth: We cannot earn God’s love, forgiveness, or acceptance. Apart from grace, not even our greatest efforts are capable of making Him smile at us in approbation. "Vile and wretched sinners" is no exaggeration; Isaiah 64:6 says that even our best efforts, tainted with our depravity, are like disgusting, putrid rags to God.

Humbling? Definitely. I can’t claim credit for anything of value that I’ve ever done. I can’t even claim an ounce of credit for a single pure, righteous, God-honoring thought that has ever passed through my mind. The only thing that I can honestly take credit for is my sin—and that’s the last thing I like to own up to. No wonder grace runs contrary to our sinful nature; news like sola gratia doesn’t exactly tickle the ear.

And yet, when we live in a constant remembrance of the gospel, good works take on an entirely different hue. Instead of providing a basis for self-exaltation or incrimination, they become yet another platform to extol the riches of God's free, undeserved, mind-boggling gift. He gets all the glory. And that's what it's all about, anyway, isn't it?

1. Mahaney, C. J., The Cross-Centered Life, and Interrogating the Legalist Within