The Sanctification Paradox: Can It Be Solved?
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The NT seems to teach that believers must obey in order to be transformed, yet must be transformed in order to obey. The language of responsibility and action abounds, but so does the language of sovereignty, humility, and dependence. Students of the doctrine of sanctification have long struggled to understand how both can be true and how faithful believers should think and act in response.
I’ve recently suggested that many have embraced what amounts to a theology of giving up when it comes to Christian growth—and that they have done so because what they see in themselves and others seems to fall so far short of “read your Bible, pray every day and you’ll grow, grow, grow.” But even this sense of frustration with self and others tends to arise from—or perhaps fuel—a view of the sanctification paradox.
My aim here is to survey four solutions to the paradox and briefly evaluate their merits.
1. The hole: deny one side of the paradox
One popular solution to the sanctification paradox has two opposite versions, but both end up with the same problem: they fail to fit about 50% of the New Testament teaching on sanctification. They leave a hole.
One version of this solution resolves the paradox by teaching or acting as if there is really no depending on God involved—we pretty much change ourselves by sheer will power. Probably no Christian holds to this view formally, but some convey it by omission. Little attention is given to depending on the power and grace of a merciful God.
The other version makes a similar mistake in the opposite direction: it either openly rejects, or marginalizes, the obedience part of the equation—especially outward obedience. We grow by humbly recognizing our neediness, soaking heart and mind continually in the gospel, and nothing more.
Surely this second version is better than the first! Still, it solves the paradox at the cost of creating a hole. (I don’t know if this is the sort of hole DeYoung has in mind in his book, The Hole in Our Holiness. I suspect the concepts are somewhat similar.)
2. The bundle: accept the paradox
Perhaps a better solution to the sanctification paradox is to just let the mystery remain.
For many of us, this would have to be a “solution” of last resort, because it seems lazy. Rather than wrestle with what God has revealed and prayerfully seek understanding until it all “clicks” in some coherent way, just shrug and say “whatever”? It seems irresponsible as well as lazy.
But we shouldn’t dismiss this option too quickly.
Surely there are some puzzles in God’s dealings with man that we should recognize are unlikely to ever be fully solved. For example, how does a spiritually dead sinner believe without being regenerated—yet how does he become regenerate without first believing?
For many of us, the “working solution” is to bundle the paradox—narrow it down to as small and precise a form as possible, and work with it in that form. Without fully sorting out and understanding what’s in the bundle, it is possible to relate it to other items and bundles in a coherent theology. (I’m only using “bundle” here because the idea of putting anything “in a box” is currently so unfashionable. Everything is apparently supposed to be outside of boxes!)
In the case of sanctification, it is indeed a bit hard to see how our efforts can have real results if we simultaneously claim that sanctification is “God’s work, top to bottom.” Perhaps the problem there is that we’re not using biblical language. Still, a solution that locates the paradox precisely at that point and says “we don’t know exactly how it is that our efforts have a causal relationship in sanctification; we only know that that somehow they do, even though it is God’s work and He will certainly complete it.”
I’m reminded of the Westminster Confession’s solution to the problem of a comprehensively-sovereign God’s relationship to sin. How does God decree all that comes to pass and yet remain holy and in no sense the author of sin? The confession simply bundles the paradox by affirming that God decrees all and affirming at the same time that He is in no sense the author of sin. (Maybe it’s just me, but the Chalcedonian Definition seems to have a similar approach to articulating the two natures of Christ.)
3. The haul: resolve by defining self-reliance
Another solution to the personal-effort vs. humble-dependence paradox is to look at the concept of “dependence” differently. Specifically, this solution reasons that there is really no such thing as doing anything “in our own strength”; we are always and in every way dependent on God’s enabling, whether we realize it or not. In Him “we live, and move, and have our being” (Acts 17:28), and through Him “all things consist” (συνέστηκε, hold together).
In this solution, real dependence is not an option—it’s an attitude.
Consequently, the dynamic of growing in holiness is like hauling freight. If you’re a “big rig” truck driver nowadays, chances are good that you don’t do any of the real work of getting the cargo from point A to point B. That is, forklifts fill the trailer, and 400-600 horses worth of diesel engine does the pulling. There is plenty to do in the cab, certainly—plenty of responsibility. But most of the driver’s “work” is that of accessing what does the real work. Using his “own strength” is not an option.
The driver can do his work humbly and thankfully, recognizing the wonders at his disposal. Or, if he chooses, he can do his work arrogantly, in a spirit of independence, reminiscent of Nebuchadnezzar’s thinking about Babylon: “which I have built by my mighty power.”
But it’s easy to see the folly of this. Nebuchadnezzar couldn’t have placed a single stone of Babylon’s great wall in “his own strength.” A trucker was never born who could carry his freight a single mile “in his own strength.”
In this light, the sanctification paradox seems to dissolve. We are responsible to do all we can, and our actions are indeed effectual in the sense that progress is furthered or hindered, but we are called to engage in obedience in a spirit of humble dependence, recognizing that anything that seems like “our own strength” really isn’t. As Jesus put it, “without Me you can do nothing.”
Jesus’ “abide in me” in the vine-and-branches metaphor of John 15 must also refer to the state of mind and heart that recognizes our dependent condition. According to Romans 6 and many other passages, believers are permanently in union with Christ. Over and over again, Paul short-hands our identity as believers with the phrase “in Christ.” There is apparently no way to not abide in Him other than to fall prey to the illusion of independence.
4. The spiral: resolve by defining dependence
Like the haul, the spiral solution to the paradox focuses on the relationship between our action and God’s enablement, but it is less shy about giving our conduct a strong causal relationship in the process.
The spiral solution is simply this. Yes, a sovereign and gracious act of God is required before we can be obedient in “spirit and soul and body” (1 Thess. 5:23). Further, as we grow in grace, repeated acts of gracious and sovereign enabling are necessary. However, faithful obedience with what we have already been given leads to more transforming work by God and further obedience. The sequence repeats: enablement, obedience, enablement, obedience, enablement, etc.
For some, this solution must be rejected out of hand because no enablement that is contingent on our conduct can be truly gracious. For others, this solution fails because it implies that at various points along the spiral, a believer may not be “mature enough yet” or “divinely enabled yet” to be obedient in one area or another. He has a ready excuse to keep sinning, whether by omission or commission, because he doesn’t yet have what he needs to overcome temptation and obey the Lord. And this situation seems incompatible with the language of passages such as 2 Peter 1:3.
Conclusion
In the end, perhaps some combination of bundle, haul, and spiral is best. Maybe the haul describes our already-sufficient ability—employed with an attitude of humble and thankful dependence—while the spiral describes our increasing skill and faithfulness as we are transformed. As for how our obedience can be causal (as we find in Rom. 12:2, for example) in sanctification, the fact that there is really no such thing as “our own strength” resolves any supposed incompatibility with grace. And for those who don’t find this satisfying, there’s always the bundle.
In any case, we do not need to solve the paradox by creating a hole.
Aaron Blumer 2014 Bio
Aaron Blumer, is a Michigan native and graduate of Bob Jones University and Central Baptist Theological Seminary (Plymouth, MN). He and his family live in small-town western Wisconsin, not far from where he pastored Grace Baptist Church for thirteen years.
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I believe Aaron’s asking for a balance in this situation. Why would we insist that this is an “either/or” proposition. Philosophers have fought over this same idea for a long time:
The 1982 novel “Deadeye Dick” by the popular author Kurt Vonnegut mentioned the following piece of graffiti:
“To be is to do”—Socrates.
“To do is to be”—Jean-Paul Sartre.
“Do be do be do”—Frank Sinatra.
It does seem to be a paradoxical “both/and” teaching in Scripture. 2 Peter 1 seems to show that we do partake of the divine nature through knowing Him (being), but encourages us to add to our faith certain virtues diligently (doing). I would suggest that instead of arguing Socrates or Sartre’s position, we seek to be and do what honors our God!
Lately, I’ve been making a distinction between resisting sin and sanctification. The former is outward action and involves our effort (with God’s help). The latter is internal and is the work of the Holy Spirit. The former is much more difficult without the latter. Resisting sin deals with the manifestations of the flesh, while sanctification deals with the flesh itself. Both are needed, but in terms of sanctification, we need to place all our hope in God’s power.
Sin is like a weed, and our flesh is its roots. Dealing with sin is like cutting the plant down to ground level, which is certainly better than letting it grow. But sin will keep cropping back up as long as the root is still there. The root has to be dealt with. If we pull up the root, bits of it tend to break off and the plant grows back again. Only the Holy Spirit is able to kill the root. (Maybe not a perfect illustration, but that is the way I’m thinking about it at present.)
Andrew Bernhardt
Analogies always fail at some point, but they can certainly help us understand better up to that point. In logic/rhetoric, I used to tell my students to use analogies to explain not to prove. A good rule of thumb because one can always find points of dissimilarity with the analogy—so a counterargument is so easy to construct.
Anyway, God has already given us some analogies with the Vine and Branches, the donning of armor, running the race, athletic training in general. No doubt, I’ve missed a few. It’s interesting that most of the analogies the NT gives us strongly emphasize activity and responsibility. Even the vine and branches analogy, with it’s focus on dependence, is structured as a strong appeal to act by “abiding.” (Though I really do think “abiding” refers to an inward act—an intentional self-reminding of how dependent we really are. Much like the OT’s expression “seek God”/”sought God”)
Views expressed are always my own and not my employer's, my church's, my family's, my neighbors', or my pets'. The house plants have authorized me to speak for them, however, and they always agree with me.
I wonder how many people in the pews stop to think about whether there actually is a paradox? Basically, I think a whole lot of dedicated Christians do it the right way; (1) they discipline themselves to holiness [admittedly, to greater or lesser degrees - but they know they ought to try!] and (2) know they can only succeed by the power of the Spirit. I don’t think a lot of folks stop to ponder the inherent paradox.
Take unconditional election vs. the free offer of the Gospel to everybody. I preached Jn 6:41-59 a few weeks back. I flat out said that the only reason why people repent and believe is because God draws them. Period. End of story. I presented the truth as a series of layers. We have a responsibility to repent and believe. Why does anybody actually do that? Because they’re drawn by the Father. Period. They didn’t see the paradox. They just nodded and said, “Amen.”
I had an illustration ready. I poured water over a large rock, and said, “You see how nothing sinks into that rock? That’s our heart before we’re drawn by God. Hard, unyielding, and the Gospel just bounces off.” I grabbed a sponge and poured water on it. I wrung it out. I said, “You see how water sunk in? That’s the difference between a heart that has been changed by God so that someone will repent and believe. That’s why we have to be drawn.”
This was hard for me to preach. I was brought up from a different theological perspective. I was terrified the people would become fatalistic or the church would blow up, or something. Didn’t happen. They loved the sermon. They “got it.” They didn’t see the paradox.
How much of the paradox in sanctification lies with us, the “professionals?” Do the ordinary people really see the paradox like we do? Perhaps ignorance is bliss in that regard.
Tyler is a pastor in Olympia, WA and works in State government.
Aaron, I’d be blessed by a couple of passages which illustrate this paradox—I can see a shell of the argument in parallel with the basic paradox of divine sovereignty and human responsibility, but if you could flesh this out a touch, I would greatly appreciate it.
Or put gently, I’m sorry, but I’m not completely getting it. Blessings!
Aspiring to be a stick in the mud.
I may have assumed a bit much with this one, so I didn’t give much attention to developing the paradox itself. Might have been a good “part 1” …. but maybe now it can be a part 2.
Or I’ll just post some more here later.
To Tyler: I know it’s not just “professionals” asking… I wrestled with it myself at some length and more than once before I even went off to Bible college. Some stuff just wasn’t changing like I thought it should. So, figuring I needed to do A in order for B to change, I found I couldn’t seem to accomplish A either…. I mean, for example, we know meditation on Scripture is a powerful thing, but what if you can’t seem to get motivated/disciplined to meditate?
So for me, the paradox is a pretty old friend of sorts. And I’ve seen and heard it in so, so many places over the years in one form or another.
Views expressed are always my own and not my employer's, my church's, my family's, my neighbors', or my pets'. The house plants have authorized me to speak for them, however, and they always agree with me.
Here’s a few passages that I think help show the paradox. Ultimately, I don’t believe there really is a paradox. But there certainly is an apparent paradox.
I’m persuaded that Romans 7:15-25 is an example, though many see the chapter in a very different light. To me it’s quite clear.
Philippians 2:11-12 has it in a lovely nutshell:
Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 13 for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. (ESV, Philippians 2:12–13)
But it’s really most evident in comparing separate passages. For example, 2 Peter 1:3 says we already have everything we need, yet Eph. 6:12-18 indicates that we have work to do in order to have the necessary strength to be able to “stand.”
1 Cor. 10:13 indicates every temptation is resistible already when it arrives, yet Paul tells Timothy he should discipline himself (a word for athletic training) for the purpose of godliness because, to paraphrase, it pays off in this life and the next. If every temptation is already resistible, and we already have everything we need, how could discipline possibly pay off?
It may seem that this is not the same paradox as the “law vs. grace” one that is confusing Tullian Tchividjian et. al. so much, but I think it really is just another piece of it. But the “law and grace” debate focuses less the “able but not able” part, and more on the “Christ has done it all yet we must still do” part. As an example of the paradox in that light, compare 1 Cor. 9:27 to Gal. 3:2-3.
Views expressed are always my own and not my employer's, my church's, my family's, my neighbors', or my pets'. The house plants have authorized me to speak for them, however, and they always agree with me.
[Aaron Blumer]Some stuff just wasn’t changing like I thought it should. So, figuring I needed to do A in order for B to change, I found I couldn’t seem to accomplish A either…. I mean, for example, we know meditation on Scripture is a powerful thing, but what if you can’t seem to get motivated/disciplined to meditate?
So for me, the paradox is a pretty old friend of sorts. And I’ve seen and heard it in so, so many places over the years in one form or another.
This was the old timer’s phrase in folks struggling with sanctification. This may be what TT and Mark Galli are saying, but I have not studied their writings fully. It is a good phrase though and reflects what Phil.2.13 says. Also, note the parable of the growing seed in Mk.4.26.
Yes, there is a paradox to growth as well as to salvation but that doesn’t dissolve our responsibility to stay on the altar as Christians(Rom. 12.1-2). Also, Aaron, consider you may be using wrong metrics in your evaluation of your performance. Real spirituality doesn’t look like what many fundamentalists says it looks like. Forget about Mormon-like categories of conduct. Our heart is the greatest condemner (see 1 Jn. 3.19-24). The Apostle John’s writings are very profound yet written simply. It is not basics as many would say, it is some of the deepest truths written. John is like Einstein’s or Euler in his formulations: they take what some scientist would fill a blackboard with and condense it into E=MC squared. So, I recommend John for profound understanding but not only John. Big chunks of the bible systematically is indispensable. Also, learn to follow God alone.
"Our faith itself... is not our saviour. We have but one Saviour; and that one Saviour is Jesus Christ our Lord. B.B. Warfield
Different perspectives! I never even knew the paradox existed until I went to Seminary. Before that, I was teaching teenagers every week and doing expository preaching, and it never even occurred to me.
You asked,
I mean, for example, we know meditation on Scripture is a powerful thing, but what if you can’t seem to get motivated/disciplined to meditate?
I must be very weird. I had that happen a lot. I just tried harder. When I did have a habit of reading, doing it was easier. I know it may seem strange that I just knew I had to try harder to fight against the temptation not to do devotions, but I still believe that. If I would have heard the “let go and let God” argument back then, I would have dismissed it as an excuse for not disciplining myself. None of this takes away from the necessity of the Spirit, but the point is that I’ve always given both sides of the ditch their due weight. I never noticed the paradox before Seminary. Now that I notice it, I still haven’t changed my approach.
I’m getting the feeling that I’m weird to accept the paradox. I just do.
Tyler is a pastor in Olympia, WA and works in State government.
I agree that this is only an apparent paradox. Although it is not an exact parallel, one of my favorite verses to describe this interworking between our effort and God’s sanctifying activity is 1 Cor. 15:10. There we see an amazing example of Paul laboring and God working but Paul ultimately ascribes his success as an apostle to God’s working in him. I am not saying I necessarily can grasp that fully but it is helpful for me to meditate on it.
I think it’s important to recognize the hard questions, but it’s also important not to let them distract us from what is clear.
What’s clear throughout the NT is that “let God, let God” is incorrect. I don’t really want to go over all of that again in this post, but I’ve written a good bit already against LGLG. One of the many lists of passages that do not fit the letting go paradigm below. Note the calls to “strive.”
- “strive together with me in your prayers” (Rom. 15:30)
- “that … you may abound in every good work” (1 Cor. 9:8)
- “strive to excel in building up the church” (1 Cor.14:12)
- “your labor is not in vain” (1 Cor. 15:58)
- “let him labor, doing honest work” (Eph. 4:28)
- “Let your manner of life be worthy … striving side by side for the faith” (Php 1:27)
- “bearing fruit in every good work” (Col. 1:9)
- “do so more and more” (1 Thess. 4:1)
- “To this end we toil and strive because we have our hope set on the living God” (1 Tim. 4:10)
- “Remind them … to be obedient, to be ready for every good work” (Titus 3:1)
- “let your people learn to devote themselves to good works” (Titus 3:14)
- “Strive for … the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.” (Heb. 12:14)
So LGLG is basically a “hole” solution, and any of the other approaches to the paradox is better.
Views expressed are always my own and not my employer's, my church's, my family's, my neighbors', or my pets'. The house plants have authorized me to speak for them, however, and they always agree with me.
You gentlemen have been very generous with your time and input; I am, to a degree at least, “getting” what was said here. But I wouldn’t be offended if Aaron “condensed” his thoughts into another post, of course. :^)
Being a quality engineer by trade, I loved Alex’s comment about metrics—I of course use them every day I work and quite frankly at home to help my wife manage the house—but of course we are NOT to have lists of dos and don’ts like the Mormons or some of our “hyperfundamental” friends—but rather I contemplate Galatians 5:22-23 and realize that the metrics God specifies for our growth are essentially attitudes, hard to measure from outside. Perhaps we obey at times when our heart is not in it, while God works on our hearts so the next time, our heart will be in it?
Aspiring to be a stick in the mud.
[Aaron Blumer]I think it’s important to recognize the hard questions, but it’s also important not to let them distract us from what is clear.
What’s clear throughout the NT is that “let God, let God” is incorrect. I don’t really want to go over all of that again in this post, but I’ve written a good bit already against LGLG. One of the many lists of passages that do not fit the letting go paradigm below. Note the calls to “strive.”
- “strive together with me in your prayers” (Rom. 15:30)
- “that … you may abound in every good work” (1 Cor. 9:8)
- “strive to excel in building up the church” (1 Cor.14:12)
- “your labor is not in vain” (1 Cor. 15:58)
- “let him labor, doing honest work” (Eph. 4:28)
- “Let your manner of life be worthy … striving side by side for the faith” (Php 1:27)
- “bearing fruit in every good work” (Col. 1:9)
- “do so more and more” (1 Thess. 4:1)
- “To this end we toil and strive because we have our hope set on the living God” (1 Tim. 4:10)
- “Remind them … to be obedient, to be ready for every good work” (Titus 3:1)
- “let your people learn to devote themselves to good works” (Titus 3:14)
- “Strive for … the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.” (Heb. 12:14)
So LGLG is basically a “hole” solution, and any of the other approaches to the paradox is better.
You were talking about sanctification (making holy) and persistent sin. LGLG speaks about repentance and or quitting self efforts to be pleasing to God. Every verse you quoted speaks nothing to the concept. You switched in mid-stream. Every passage you listed involves labor in the work or prayer which is of course part of service. LGLG is a good concept if seen in its proper place.
"Our faith itself... is not our saviour. We have but one Saviour; and that one Saviour is Jesus Christ our Lord. B.B. Warfield
I think what we each mean by “obedience” is confusing this conversation.
For years in my Christian life, I believed and assumed that I could obey God’s commands. I think many of us believe this, so we come to this conversation with the assumption that we can achieve obedience, at least in certain areas, etc.
This is really a false belief. And understanding this is one key to understanding the complex of ideas involved here.
In this life, our obedience (aka righteousness, good deeds, sanctification, etc) never meet God’s standards. Only Christ’s obedience/righteousness did this (i.e., met God’s standards).
Now, hearing this, some jump to the “logical” conclusion that this means we “stop trying.” The assumption is something like: sanctification equals perfectly reaching God’s standards.
But, one main question then becomes, what are we really trying to do in sanctification? reach perfection? attain perfect obedience?
this is where being “in Christ” and His disciples comes into play— the more correct idea of sanctification and the goal of Christian living, perhaps.
For example: 1 Cor. 1:30 But by His doing you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God,and righteousness and sanctification, and redemption (nasb)
I will give an example of this. I used to think that reading my Bible daily was the satisfying-God goal of my relationship to the Bible. I mean, this practice is emphasized over and over among Christians I was around— my church, the Wilds, BJ, etc. And it’s a great habit. I’m very thankful for having this habit and having years of Bible reading in my being.
But I also erroneously thought that I was being righteous and pleasing God in the sense that I was meeting His standard for me in this area.
And when I started understanding “grace” in sanctification, I was able to see the heights of God’s standards (because then I was free not to manipulate them down to a reachable-by-man standard). God’s requirements of me towards His Word are so great— I must love it, delight in it, value it more than my life and food, more than my bank account or retirement funds. It must be what I do unfailingly.
And you see, I can’t reach this standard. But Christ did. And now, I look at God’s desires for me towards His Word, and I have two main thoughts: 1) I meditate on how great the requirement is and how Christ so perfectly and completely fulfilled this, and 2) now I follow after Him and I ask the Spirit to lead me into the relationship towards God’s Word that God wants me to have. …. It may look like or involve daily reading (it may not), it may mean reading it 5 times a day. …
But I don’t start by making a list for myself of things I must do in order to fulfill God’s requirements towards His Word— if you see what I mean by the difference in approach.
The first approach requires a lot of *me*— and the result is either a lot of me-glory or me-failure. The second approach focuses on Christ, then the “work” I do in obedience to the Spirit’s leading flows out of our relationship.
[Anne Sokol]Emphasis AddedI think what we each mean by “obedience” is confusing this conversation.
For years in my Christian life, I believed and assumed that I could obey God’s commands. I think many of us believe this, so we come to this conversation with the assumption that we can achieve obedience, at least in certain areas, etc.
This is really a false belief. And understanding this is one key to understanding the complex of ideas involved here.
In this life, our obedience (aka righteousness, good deeds, sanctification, etc) never meet God’s standards. Only Christ’s obedience/righteousness did this (i.e., met God’s standards).
Anne,
I think you set up an unconscious disconnect in your opening premise that follows you all the way through the post. There is a difference between “can” and “do.” You are right that we never “do” meet Gods standards completely. I believe this is true in every area of life. But that does not mean we can’t. As believers, we have been freed from the bondage of sin. We are now in possession of the power of God through the indwelling of the person of the Holy Spirit. Despite the remaining flesh, there is never a reason why any believer, at any particular given moment in time, has to “fall short of the gory of God.” This is why we have verses like Romans 8:4, telling us that the righteous requirements of the law are fulfilled by Christ “in” us (not just for or through us) as we walk in the Spirit instead of the flesh and 2 Timothy 3:17, telling us that God has given us direction in His Word sufficient to prepare us for “every” good work (not some or many but all).
Why is it that my voice always seems to be loudest when I am saying the dumbest things?
Discussion