Should we affirm sola fide?

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Note: This essay on the nature of faith and salvation was originally posted as part of a much longer series. Because it was buried in that series, like a chapter of a book, it did not as much attention as I would wish. So I am now re-posting it, and will continue posting other answers to questions in the “The Denominational Distinctives” individually, so that people will have a better place to comment on them. I will also make a point of interacting more with commenters (this takes time, of course), as part of an effort to better educate myself about the issues. Similar reposts: -1-

The Penitent Saint Peter by Jusepe de Ribera (1591–1652)

This is among the most complex and disputed questions on this list. I have begun writing a very long analysis, but it will take a while to finish. In lieu of that, here is a briefer analysis, of which I am fairly confident for now. The key question here is the one that is central to soteriology, the theory of salvation: What saves us? Or, in virtue of what are we saved? There are many other, related questions, but we will focus on this (or these, if they are different). The best way to develop my answer to this question is to follow a certain definite exploration of Bible verses.

We begin by observing those many verses that indicate that we are saved by faith; we immediately contrast these by those verses—also many—that indicate that we are saved by righteousness. Next, we add the further complexity of those verses, found especially in the apostle Paul, that we are not saved by works; and, finally, we must consider the notion, found in James 2, that faith without works is dead. The solution to this tension may be found in the insight that faith, in the core, operative sense, means faith in a person, not propositions, and that we while faithfulness to a person is, in itself, something entirely spiritual or a matter of trust, it is shown to be bogus if it does not produce good effects in behavior (called “fruit” in the standard biblical metaphor). If we are to show we actually have faith in God, we must act in earnest, not in “bad faith.” Thus, we are saved by faith, but it must be genuine faith that produces good works (or “fruit”). We are not saved by these good works, which are simply inadequate to cover our sins. We are indeed saved only by our loyalty to the Lord.

This, by the way, is simply not to address the role that the atonement of our sins by Jesus Christ plays in our salvation, which is a distinct theological question. Nor is it directly to address the means of grace (whether external objects or rites are, or can be, involved in our salvation). Nor does it say much about repentance as a necessary condition of genuine faith. I do not go into these topics because they are not essential to the questions over which Protestantism separates from Catholicism and Orthodoxy.

Should we affirm sola fide, i.e., that we are saved by faith alone, or do our good works also contribute to our salvation?

1. We are said to be saved by faith.

Let us begin with a small selection of basic verses, first from the Old Testament. Some who are unfamiliar with the Old Testament and soteriology might be surprised that the Old Testament prophets say we are saved by our faith. But they do, and often. The first instance I will mention is important but indirect:

Genesis 6:9
These are the generations of Noah: Noah was a just man and perfect in his generations, and Noah walked with God.

To “walk with God,” as other patriarchs and prophets are said to do, is to adhere to him, to be faithful to him. It is no coincidence that Noah’s life (and those of his sons, and their wives) was saved, while the rest of humanity was wiped out.

Deuteronomy 6:5
And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might.

The most fundamental law, which is also implied by the first two commandments, is the love of God. This both requires and results in faithfulness to God, or so it can be cogently argued (although I will not bother now). If there is one law that we must follow above all, and which certainly was not set aside under the new covenant, it is this one.

1 Samuel 26:23
The Lord render to every man his righteousness and his faithfulness: for the Lord delivered thee [Saul] into my [David’s] hand to day, but I would not stretch forth mine hand against the Lord’s anointed.

The operative concepts here concern our righteous treatment of each other; this is an image of what God expects from us toward himself. In other words, it was righteous for David to spare Saul’s life, because Saul was anointed king by the Lord, and thus Saul’s life was not his to dispose of. David’s point is that he expected to be rewarded by the Lord for his own righteousness (presumably, with his own life, and so it came to pass: Saul never did manage to kill him).

Psalm 31:1, 5–6
In thee, O Lord, do I put my trust; let me never be ashamed: deliver me in thy righteousness.
…Into thine hand I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth.
I have hated them that regard lying vanities: but I trust in the Lord.

The Psalms are filled with verses connecting trust in the Lord to our salvation. If, like Jesus (Luke 23:46), we will “commit our spirit” into the hands of the Lord, we will be saved, delivered in our resurrection to a new life, as Jesus first demonstrated.

Isaiah 12:2
Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and not be afraid: for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song; he also is become my salvation.

This makes it quite explicit: we have our salvation through our trust in the Lord.

Isaiah 50:10
Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God.

The fear of the Lord—however we characterize it—is closely tied to trusting in God. By this fear and trust we walk in his light, unafraid.

Habakkuk 2:4
Behold, his soul which is lifted up is not upright in him: but the just shall live by his faith

Here is one of the few OT verses that explicitly tie salvation (or, life) to faith (Heb. emunah, also rendered “faithfulness”).

The point in rehearsing this variety of OT verses is that it is profoundly wrong-headed to suppose the theme of salvation by faith cannot be found in the OT. It is everywhere in the OT, it is one of the best reasons to read the OT, and, as we will see, its doctrine is ultimately the same as in the NT. Of course, what the NT adds is the revelation of “the mystery which hath been hid from ages and from generations, but now is made manifest to his saints” (Col 1:26), namely, it is owing to the work of Jesus Christ on the cross that our sins are forgiven, so that it is possible for us to be ultimately saved for eternal life with him.

Here then are some classic NT verses saying we are saved by faith:

John 3:16
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Note that in this famous verse we are called to believe in him—not that he exists, not that he died for our sins (that hadn’t happened yet when Jesus said this), not any proposition—but in him.

John 5:24
Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.

Here, the object of faith is not the Son but the Father who sent him. How can this be? Curiouser and curiouser!

Next, I will give the full length of a quotation (a whole pericope, a self-contained passage), in order to consider a point in its full context. I could have done so with other texts, but this one achieves an important purpose:

Luke 7:44–50
And he [Jesus] turned to the woman [described as a “sinner”], and said unto Simon [his Pharisee host], Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine [Simon’s] house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint [apply fragrant oil]: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven. And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.

The woman is described simply as “a sinner” who is looked down upon by the Pharisee at whose house Jesus ate. She used expensive ointment on his feet and wiped them with her hair, showing her faith that Jesus was worthy of such honor. In the end, Jesus honors her in return, saying she “loved much” and that it is her faith that has saved her—and not her good works, for she was a sinner, nor her gesture, which was an expression of her faith. In other words, her greatly loving faith, expressed by works, in spite of her sins, saved her.

It is common for some to conclude, on the above basis, that what is necessary is to declare, in a prayer, “I believe that Jesus Christ is my savior. Amen.” Some such expression of belief, they seem to think, is what saves us. But the next set of verses tends to leave such people filled with confusion and consternation. Let us turn to them next.

2. We are also said to be saved by our righteousness.

It is widely regarded as an exclusively Old Testament doctrine that we are saved by our righteousness. For example:

Ezekiel 18:5–9
But if a man be just, and do that which is lawful and right… He shall surely live, saith the Lord God.

Psalm 37:39–40
But the salvation of the righteous is of the Lord: he is their strength in the time of trouble.
And the Lord shall help them, and deliver them: he shall deliver them from the wicked, and save them, because they trust in him.

These are representative samples of the prophets and the Psalms, which assert that salvation and life are a result of righteousness and obedience to God’s law. Now, some read such verses and conclude, “Well, it is a good thing that we live under a new covenant and that we are no longer under the law!” Indeed—and we will soon return to this point. Yet such people tend to be filled with “confusion and consternation” when Jesus and Paul speak just like the OT prophets:

Matthew 5:20, 48
For I say unto you, That except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven. …
(v. 48) Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.

This, in the first chapter of the famous Sermon on the Mount, has caused no end of confusion. Must we be perfectly righteous? Must we really be perfect? Is that what saving faith requires? “Who then can be saved” indeed!

Toward the end of the sermon, Jesus doubles down:

Matthew 7:21–23
Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven. Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.

This, some worry, sounds like “works salvation.” Some people will have done “many wonderful works” (on their own telling), but Jesus will reject them because they “work iniquity” and have not done “the will of my Father which is in heaven”? Is he contradicting himself (in John 3:16) and the OT prophets?

Paul is the great champion of sola fide, often saying we are saved by faith. Yet in some places, he sounds just like Jesus in this way:

Romans 2:6–7, 13
Who will render to every man according to his deeds: To them who by patient continuance in well doing seek for glory and honour and immortality, eternal life…
(v.13) For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified.

What? Render to us according to our deeds—not our faith? The “doers of the law shall be justified,” and not the faithful?

I am deliberately presenting this in such a way as to express the common confusion; but we will not be confused for too long. Let us turn next to the classic texts that express we are not saved by our works.

3. Yet, we are said to be saved by faith and not by our works.

The locus classicus of sola fide is this clear pronouncement by Paul:

Ephesians 2:8–9
For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.

“Grace” is a gift, unearned, and not in exchange for any work; we who are saved cannot boast of our salvation, because it is the gift of God. Paul gives Abraham as the classic example:

Romans 4:2–5
For if Abraham were justified by works, he hath whereof to glory; but not before God. For what saith the scripture? Abraham believed God, and it was counted unto him for righteousness. Now to him that worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt. But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.

This—as sola fide Protestants never tire of explaining—provides the solution of how it can be that Jesus demands righteousness, even perfection. Abraham’s belief in God “was counted unto him for righteousness”; this was unmerited, but, again, a gift from God.

It is not only Paul who says God gives us grace in spite of our sins. Think again of what Jesus said to the sinner woman who washed his feet with expensive ointment. And consider what he says about another sinner:

Luke 18:10–14
Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican [tax collector]. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess. And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner. [Jesus now speaks:] I tell you, this man [the publican] went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.

The man who humbles himself in faith before God, insisting on his own sinfulness, is the one that—paradoxically?—will be saved. If we are saved, it is by our faith, not by our works.

So far, we have presented the discussion of that whereby we are saved as a kind of dialogue. Let us trace the path of this dialogue. We began by saying that the Bible is full of pronouncements that we are saved by faith in God. But it also says, quite sternly, that we are saved by our righteousness. This is not a theological interpretation, but a straightforward summary of biblical assertions (some are quoted above, such as Mt 5:20 and Rom 2:6–7). Yet it also denies that we are saved by our works. This is looking like a contradiction, and now I will make it even worse, by discussing James.

4. Yet again, James says that faith without works is dead.

In a famous passage in chapter 2 of his epistle, James begins with two rhetorical questions:

James 2:14-17
What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath faith, and have not works? can faith save him? If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, And one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit? Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.

The puzzle James confronts us with is whether a person can be saved if he “hath faith, and not have works? Can faith save him?” James’ answer is very clear: absolutely not. This might look like a contradiction of the passages quoted in section 3 above, but it is not. As James explains, “faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.” In other words, the cases we are considering are those who pretend (perhaps even to themselves) to have faith, but do not really have it. Only if faith really does “have works” is it alive, or genuine. It is perhaps best to say that it is not really faith at all.

James is responding—perhaps, so say some commentators—to those who read the words of Paul, and concluded that they can do whatever they like. The error here is called antinomianism, and it was a problem of many morally self-indulgent Greeks, whose culture made broad excuses for all sorts of bad behavior. So, James was not criticizing or correcting Paul; rather, he was correcting those who had misinterpreted Paul. He goes on to explain in a little dialogue (Jas 2:18) how he would respond to such an antinomian, which can be explained with interpretive interpolations: “Yea, a man may [rightly] say [to an antinomian], Thou hast faith, and I have works”—very well then—”shew me thy faith without thy works”, and good luck with that. You will not be able to do so. But, James goes on, “I will shew thee my faith by my works.” In other words, it is hardly as if James denies having faith and claims only works. Rather, he is saying that his works demonstrate the reality of his faith.

Still, the apparent contradiction between the verses found in sections 1 and 3, on the one hand, and section 2, on the other, remains. What does save us—our faith, or our works (or righteousness)?

5. The resolution of the tension: the object of faith is a person.

One insight remains to be put on the table, and it makes all the difference.

Thus far, we have not discussed what the object of faith is. We can say it is Jesus, or God, but often we say we have faith that God exists, or that Jesus is Lord, or that our sins are forgiven due to the blood of Christ on the cross, or some other such proposition.

Maybe it will help some to make a short detour into the branch of philosophy called epistemology (the theory of knowledge). Epistemologists distinguish between two different kinds of knowledge: we can know who and we can know that.1 A similar distinction can be drawn with regard to belief. We can believe that God exists, or we can believe in God himself, personally. Believing that takes a proposition (a statement like “God exists”) as its object; believing in takes a person as its object.

Now, as it happens, there is a similar distinction in the Greek word that we translate with “belief” and “faith”: πιστεύω or pisteuo. This can be used to speak of our belief that a statement is true, but it can also mean to have faith (or belief, if you prefer) in a person.

Now, why does this matter? It matters because most pastors teach the doctrine of salvation by faith as belief in certain propositions, again, such as God exists or Jesus is Lord or Jesus died on the cross for our sins. Now, if you remind them, they will say, “Yes, in fact there is a threefold distinction of faith, notitia, assensus, and fiducia. The knowledge component is notitia. We must not only have the information, though, we must assent to it: assensus. But in addition, we must trust Christ (or God): fiducia.” Now, I am very sorry to have to criticize distinguished old medieval distinctions that have done service to the Church for centuries, but I do not find exactly this in the text. I think that most of the time what is meant is, indeed, fiducia, or personal faith in God. And, regardless, the pastors seem to forget all this and most often speak of faith as simple assensus. But, as James said elsewhere in the passage we discussed, “Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble.” (Jas 2:19) In other words, their mere belief that there is one God hardly saves them; what they lack is fiducia, or belief in God. They are damned because they are in rebellion.

If you will go back over the texts above, you will see that fiducia is generally what is meant. In John 3:16, “whosever believeth in him” is pointing to a personal faith or trust. Jesus calls on his listeners to “believeth on him that sent me,” referring to faith in God. This use of “belief in” and “belief on” is to be distinguished from “belief that.” Now, since Father and Son are united in being or substance, for a Christian (who accepts this doctrine) to believe in one is to believe in the other. Thus, it does not really matter whether we say that the object of saving faith is God, or Jesus, or even the Holy Ghost: all are God, and united in the Godhead, and this is the God in whom we repose our trust. When Paul writes, “Abraham believed God, and it was counted unto him for righteousness” (Rom 4:3 again), he is not saying that Abraham believed merely that God would give him an heir; rather, he is saying that Abraham believed in the faithfulness of God, or in other words, that Abraham trusted God. It was clearly that broader sort of trust that was “counted for righteousness.”

Finally, we may go back to the various OT discourses about how we are saved. Throughout, the object of faith is certainly the Lord God, and over and over, especially but not only in the Psalms, we find his trustworthiness praised. For example: “And they that know thy name will put their trust in thee: for thou, Lord, hast not forsaken them that seek thee.” (Ps 9:10) Or consider this, from Isaiah: “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee. Trust ye in the Lord for ever: for in the Lord JEHOVAH is everlasting strength.” (Isa 26:3–4) There is, I maintain, a close connection between the way to salvation in both testaments; it is the same God, and thus the same way to salvation. This is also why it was never in any doubt whether the Old Testament saints saw eternal life, so that Jesus could say, “But as touching the resurrection of the dead, have ye not read that which was spoken unto you by God, saying, I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? God is not the God of the dead, but of the living.” (Mt 22:31–32)

It matters profoundly that the object of our faith is God, because this helps make good sense of all the doctrines discussed here. We are saved by faithfulness toward the Lord, because he adopts us into his family. We are saved by righteousness—not by our own, though our fidelity is shown through our paltry attempts at it—but by that of Jesus. We take him as our Lord and Master, and his perfection covers our imperfection. Again, we may agree with Paul, when he says we are saved by faith, not our works, which are only “loss” and even “dung.” Yet we may (indeed, must) also agree with James, when he says that faith without works is dead, for what sort of loyalty are we demonstrating to our Lord if our supposed faith makes no difference in our life?

6. “Believe the Gospel”

So I do maintain that we are saved by faith alone, and it helps, in clarifying this, to say that the object of our faith is not a proposition but God. Nevertheless, I am not disagreeing with those who say they are saved by their sincere faith that Jesus is their Lord. They are correct, but this is because of the particular features of that proposition. If you take Jesus to be your Lord, consider what this means. If Jesus is Lord, then he is Immanuel, or God With Us; and if he is also the King of Israel, consider what follows. (The following is summarized from an earlier blog post.)

The original Gospel proclamation, as Jesus preached it, was the announcement of the Kingdom of God and the arrival of its King. This is what Jesus meant when he said, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent ye, and believe the gospel” (Mark 1:15). All Jews who heard this understood exactly what was being claimed: this was the long-awaited restored kingdom of Israel, prophesied in Scripture, and the time was now. To declare allegiance to the King was to enter into that Kingdom. Hence, when Jesus told his disciples, “follow me,” or, “If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother… he cannot be my disciple,” this was not some new or secondary teaching. It was the natural consequence of the royal announcement: personal loyalty to and love of the Sovereign of the Kingdom was demanded.

And if this King is Immanuel, or God With Us, then allegiance to him is—again—trust in God.

The announcement of the Kingdom remained the core of the Gospel even after the resurrection. The news became fuller, of course, as the King revealed more of himself through his suffering, death, and resurrection. Paul declares that Christ “died for our sins … was buried … and rose again” (1 Cor 15:1–4)—and this, too, is part of “the gospel.” But these events do not constitute a new Gospel; rather, they are the great climactic acts of the same King who had already called for our loyalty. To share the Gospel is not simply to preach a set of theological doctrines about the atonement. It is to proclaim the story of the arrival of the Kingdom, the enthronement of the King, and the proper response: trust, love, obedience, and loyalty to the one who has defeated death and now reigns. To believe that Gospel, if sincere, is to be genuinely loyal to God With Us. That loyalty is what saves us.

7. What then is the answer?

This, then, is how I understand sola fide. To sum up: The Bible indeed proclaims throughout the salvation of the Lord to those who are faithful to him. But it also warns that we are saved by our righteousness, and that we must strive for righteousness. Yet it also denies that we are saved by our works, but only by faith. This sounds like a contradiction, so—how is the paradox resolved? Part of the answer is given by James: faith without works is dead. If we are genuinely faithful, our lives will bear fruit. Those whose lives are unchanged may claim to believe in Jesus, but to them he will say, “I never knew ye.” Now, the key to the solution of the “faith versus works” paradox may be found in the fact that the object of faith is a person, not a proposition. It is our faithfulness in the person of the Lord that saves us, even as the faith of the sinner woman, who sat adoringly at the feet of Christ, saved her despite her sins. In the context of this basic truth, the tangled propositions each turn out to be true, plausible, and profound. We may even find a way to agree with those who say they are saved because they believe that Jesus is Lord. At least, if there is a sincere belief of that sort, it entails that we are genuinely loyal to our King, who is God With Us, and it is that loyalty that saves us.

In this way, it seems we may affirm the Protestant doctrine of sola fide. But I can imagine some disagreeing, on the following grounds:

If you are saying that you must “bear fruit” in order to be saved, then for that very reason you are disagreeing with sola fide. You are saved, in part, by your works. Your works are not enough by themselves for your salvation, as Paul said, and yes, they must flow from faith; but if salvation requires genuine fruit of repentance, then sola fide is mistaken.

There are two ways to respond to this:

The Protestant response. One is to hold fast to sola fide by insisting that, while works are a necessary condition of salvation, they are not constitutive of what saves us, “lest any man should boast.” We are saved, as Paul says, only by the grace of God and by our faith. If our works are a condition of salvation, they are so only in a secondary sense; we are not saved by our works but by our faith, with good fruit being only evidence of faith. These might sound like fine distinctions, but they are important. Scripture (reflected in sections 1 and 3 above) makes it very clear that we are saved by faith alone.

The Orthodox response. The other is to embrace a joint condition, or what Orthodoxy calls a synergy between our active works and our faithful acceptance of God and his grace. (I will come back to the Catholic position later.) Such a position can admit that we are saved primarily by personal faith, but that there is no point in denying that our salvation is conditioned upon good works, or even that the sacraments can have some role to play. We will discuss the latter later on. This is not to insist that we are saved by our works; it is only to describe our works as part of a unified condition (a synergistic state) of salvation, which is all indeed due to God’s grace, so again, we have no grounds on which to boast.

The Protestant position is both more familiar and easier for me to defend. But I concede that the difference between this and the Orthodox position strikes me as being surprisingly slight and little more than a semantic dispute. In other words, I could retreat to a simpler, traditional sola fide formulation, but then in my view we are not doing full justice to all the Scripture on these issues. At the same time, I see no specific advantage to insisting on the Orthodox position over the Protestant one. It is not somehow more correct to say that works are part of salvation, instead of saying they are evidence of faith, without being in themselves salvific.

I have set aside Catholicism for purposes of this discussion, because it goes beyond mere synergy, more legalistically requiring specific sacramental works in the form of Baptism and the Eucharist. This seems to directly contradict the clear statements in sections 1 and 3 above—and in any case, I currently doubt these legalistic requirements are required by Scripture for salvation. That remains to be proven (in a question we will take up later).

At this point, I see no strong theological reasons to insist on one formulation over another, for purposes of committing myself to a denominational position. A choice will have to come down to other issues, it seems.

Footnotes

  1. This is introduced with various terminology. Bertrand Russell introduced the distinction of knowledge by acquaintance and knowledge by description. Others speak of personal versus declarative knowledge.[]

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Please do dive in (politely). I want your reactions!

15 responses to “Should we affirm sola fide?”

  1. David File

    “…your faith being more precious that gold, that burns in the fire.” 1 Peter 1:7
    Faith is an evidence and an object.
    Consider Pilgrim’s Progress, where Christian found himself at a door, the Wicket Gate, after a perilous journey, where he knocks repeatedly, pleading for entry. The gatekeeper, Goodwill, responds with the promise: “An open door is set before thee, and no man can shut it.”
    In John 3, Jesus says, “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
    The Father draws us and the Spirit rescues us. While the Reformation pulled us away from Works, it would take many others along with George Whitefield, to re-enlist the work of The Spirit. The Spirit is the seal of our redemption.
    https://www.gotquestions.org/born-of-the-spirit.html

  2. Micah Smith

    Larry, Your blog is important for many reasons, but here I appreciate your humble appeal for restrained theology: affirm what Scripture explicitly teaches, and avoid dogmatic pronouncements on matters it leaves unclear or silent. One thing to add: these debates aren’t just about the big historical splits between Catholics, Orthodox, and Protestants. In my experience, lively disagreements happen inside every group, denomination, and fellowship that comes from those three branches. Our debates often stem from our human tendency to over-systematize, react defensively, or demand uniformity where Scripture allows diversity. What I hear you suggesting is a better way: focus on the essentials, live out our faith day by day, and let love cover everything else.

  3. Harry Lewis

    I have found Mathew Bate’s “Salvation by Allegiance Alone” very helpful on this subject. This discussion has also been clarifying. Thank you/

  4. Gerald A. White

    I would like to submit the question: “Whose faith is it?” I believe Galatians 2:20 answers that question decisively.
    “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and delivered Himself up for me.” (NASB)
    If it is by His life I now live, then it follows that it is by His faith that I am enabled to trust, love and obey Him. It all finally comes back to the Person, the King with whom we have to do. Thank God.

    1. With respect, I am not convinced. I would like to see more consideration of the relevant texts. One proof text cannot do the trick. There is simply far too much in the way of Scripture that ascribes faith to individuals or to the people of God (“As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord,” Josh 24:15; “thy faith hath saved thee,” Luke 7:50); and there is a great deal that encourages and commands faith or that presents faith as an option (“trust in the Lord,” Prov 3:5; “believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,” Acts 16:31). Some are even praised by God for their faith (“my servant Caleb…hath followed me fully,” Num 14:24; “I have not found so great faith,” Luke 7:9). Gal 2:20 could mean that the Spirit has faith in God as he dwells in us, but it could just as well mean that the Spirit strengthens our faith (“strengthened with might by his Spirit,” Eph 3:16; “the LORD shall strengthen thee,” Ps 138:3).

      1. Gerald A. White

        Why can it not be both? Surely the prime mover is always God.

        1. Let’s just get clear what the question is. Here are two statements:

          (1) “The meaning of ‘I have faith in God’ is exhausted by saying, ‘God has faith in himself, in me’—however that is to be understood.”
          (2) “My faith in God is my own, but it is caused (either partly or wholly) by God.”

          These are two very different statements. Which one are you asserting (or is it something else)?

  5. Scott

    How much consideration do you give to the historical path dependence of theology? My understanding is that theology is quite often “negative” in the sense that it tells what *is not* instead of what *is*. I would have expected direct reference to indulgences in an article of this topic. Perhaps I’m mistaken, my historical knowledge is somewhat shallow.

    1. Scott, this is a rich and interesting question. I wrote a long answer, then thought better of it, and asked ChatGPT to rewrite your question for clarity. This is what it said. Is this what you meant?—

      ChatGPT: “How much weight do you give to the fact that doctrines are often articulated in response to specific historical controversies, so that their formulation reflects those polemical contexts? Since theology frequently develops by saying what is not the case, I expected an explicit discussion of indulgences, given their role in shaping the Reformation-era understanding of justification. Am I missing a reason why that historical background is not methodologically central to your treatment of sola fide?”

      Or more briefly, you seem to be assuming a broad historical relativism about theological questions, and asking why I don’t answer the question in light of such an assumption myself (e.g., by mentioning how the Protestant commitment to sola fide emerged as a reaction to indulgences). Let me answer this, but correct me if I have misunderstood you. By the way, if you think there is a distinction to be drawn between historical conditioning and historical determination, I would ask you to draw it explicitly.

      If I were Catholic or Orthodox, then the answer to your question would definitely be “we should consult sacred tradition for the answer.” For them, the truth about theological questions is indeed relative to their own traditions rather than to Scripture (alone). Of course, they think those traditions have been guided by the Holy Spirit. Precisely that is rejected by Protestants, however: If the Church could be trusted to reveal the doctrines of the Holy Spirit, then whoever in the Church was responsible for such doctrines ought to be called a prophet. Scripture provides for no method whereby an entire institution becomes, as it were, a corporate or collective prophet. The idea that there is such a method is a later introduction of the Church itself, hundreds of years after the Apostles.

      My approach in the essay is classically Protestant: To determine the correct answer, one simply reads the text and reasons about it. This is not to say that Protestants can (and anyone in any sort of ministry should) also be aware of the history of thought on the subject. But coming to grips with what Scripture has to say about the question is a necessary condition, I think, to properly reading and evaluating that very history, and is a sound place to start.

      All that admitted, I do not concede that theological questions are historically dependent. To say so is to say that they depend on the outcomes of human history. Yet the reason we have any Christian religion at all, according to actual believers like myself, is that God revealed himself first to his prophets, then later through his incarnate Son, and finally through that which was written or reported by the Apostles. That is the only revelatory source of our doctrine.

      You might say that such revelation underdetermines (i.e., fails to provide enough data to settle) theological questions, and I would agree with you. That is a kind of broader skeptical via negativa about theology that I generally recommend: Where Scripture speaks clearly, we should speak clearly; on theological questions on which it does not speak, neither should we speak.

      On the questions of faith, works, and salvation, we do not have a lack of data. Rather, we have an enormous amount of data that appears to be in some tension. Thus applying as skeptical “negative way” to these questions is not really appropriate. We are obligated, I think, to work through the issues and determine the best resolution of the tensions. As far as I can tell (I am open to correction), I have given that resolution. Other attempts to resolve them can be shown to be objectively poor—including, then, those that would permit salvation through indulgences. Only Scripture, reporting the revelation of prophets and Apostles, may determine which doctrines are true; later historical developments may help clarify and systematize that truth, but they do not constitute it.

      1. Scott

        Hey Larry. Thanks for the response. Yes! That paraphrase is what I meant. And I do draw a distinction between dependence and conditioning although I haven’t thought of it in those words before. A way I would say this… The destination of Bethlehem doesn’t depend on if you start in Jerusalem or Rome, but the roads you take to get there do.

        Wanted to first clarify the questions you had. I’ll respond more fully, but not sure if you want to say more in your initial reply or not.

      2. Scott

        Ok. There’s a lot here. I’ll see what I can say.

        “…you seem to be assuming a broad historical relativism about theological questions”

        Yes. But not an arbitrariness. And these map to the conditioning versus determination distinction you offer. Perhaps the word ‘relative’ is beyond redemption at this point. I can sense the blood pressure of so many rise at its mere utterance. Although the entire cloud of words around this sense are probably sufficient to trigger an immune response. I like the spatial approach here as it is so tangible. To get to where we are going, we must start from where we are.

        “Of course, they think those traditions have been guided by the Holy Spirit. Precisely that is rejected by Protestants…”

        I wouldn’t be so sure here. And I think a good example is how we (Protestants) believe that the Holy Spirit guided the canonization process of the Bible. The emphasis on the Church becoming the body of Christ in the New Testament also comes to mind for me here.

        “Where Scripture speaks clearly, we should speak clearly; on theological questions on which it does not speak, neither should we speak.”

        Strongly agree with this. And opportune time to emphasize that I am sure that scripture is special in revealing God to us.

        A playful image to close… Say the church is a bowling ball going down a foggy lane with the gutter bumpers up. Each time the ball hits a bumper it gives new insight into where the pins are. And one might try and summarize and systemize all these insights. Which may be very valuable. But it would be a little odd to not also mention where the bumpers were discovered to be. As they played such an important role in the whole process to begin with.

  6. Larry Newman

    The duscussion is hampered by the framing of it as being saved by our this or that. God is the one who justifies (Rm 8)

    1. That God is the one who justifies us is not inconsistent with anything I have said, though. If you think the discussion is wrong, somehow, which part do you disagree with?

      1. Larry Newman

        (After posting this earlier, I read in another of your very inspiring blog posts, your affirmation of that part of Rm 8, the 8:33 verse I alluded to!) Let me backtrack … look at the first paragraph … why do you (or any of us) look for “what saves us” , and conclude “we are only saved by our loyalty to the Lord?” What happened to God doing the saving? I hope this clarifies my bringing Rm 8 up.

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