Particular Pitfalls of Independent Baptists: Performance-Based Sanctification

“It just isn’t feasible to categorically reject “man made rules” as having a vital role in genuine Christian living without taking the position that obedience has no vital role.”

Have you thought about how you could state your position more elegantly or in a succinct manner? I am speaking of the above statement.

It seems you are equating “man made rules” with the Laws of God for the observance by Christians.

I have lurked on this site for a while and have read your comments regarding these “man made rules” and it disturbs me quite frankly as something that Christians should adopt.

I will not go back and forth with you though. I only state my position.

Rules to keep order in an assembly of course, but not to be a better or mature Christian.

"Our faith itself... is not our saviour. We have but one Saviour; and that one Saviour is Jesus Christ our Lord. B.B. Warfield

http://beliefspeak2.net

Aaron,

You’re right, I was unclear. Reformed originally included both Zwinglian and Calvinist views. However, in the modern Reformed world, I’d say the Calvinist views have much more pull than the Zwinglian, since Zwinglian views are associated with (non-Reformed) Baptists.

According to some Reformed Baptist friends I have, the 2LBCF on the Lord’s Supper is Calvinist, not Zwinglian. I haven’t really checked it out myself. Even if the 2LBCF is Zwinglian, there are a few other Baptist statements that are Calvinist. Given the historical connection between English Particular Baptists and other generally Reformed nonconformists, the overlap is not entirely surprising.

My Blog: http://dearreaderblog.com

Cor meum tibi offero Domine prompte et sincere. ~ John Calvin

Clarity: from reading Luther’s CCL over and over, I think more the gist of this statement is talking about church decrees like you need to fast on such and such days, you need to pray certain prayers, light little candles, give certain monies, etc., and they call this “good works.” Think Catholicism or Orthodoxy.

I am not positive about this, but I think that’s the idea being talked about here.

I’m not sure if Aaron’s application of it is what they mean or not. Maybe making a rule that you must help up a person who’s fallen on the ice then calling that a “good work” is more the idea? A person may conform to the work but his heart be far from God.

That might be more of what’s in mind here, but I’m not positive.

[alex o.]

[Aaron] It just isn’t feasible to categorically reject “man made rules” as having a vital role in genuine Christian living without taking the position that obedience has no vital role.

Have you thought about how you could state your position more elegantly or in a succinct manner? I am speaking of the above statement.

It seems you are equating “man made rules” with the Laws of God for the observance by Christians.

I have lurked on this site for a while and have read your comments regarding these “man made rules” and it disturbs me quite frankly as something that Christians should adopt.

I will not go back and forth with you though. I only state my position.

Rules to keep order in an assembly of course, but not to be a better or mature Christian.

Appreciate your participation in the discussion, Alex.

The topic of “legalism” and “man made rules” etc. has been bouncing around here for a couple of weeks in several threads. So I’m occasionally just summarizing my view again in light of a new argument or a new (hopefully better) expression of one of the arguments I’ve already used.

So… more elegantly…. well, I probably can’t do more elegant, but I can do more comprehensive (and hopefully more clear).

First, understand that what I’m saying is a reaction to what I’ve been calling broad brush anti-legalism rhetoric. The rhetoric I have in mind has mainly these features.

  • Speaks of “legalism” as a huge problem (maybe the biggest) among Christians today
  • Speaks against “legalism” in terms that tend to also dismiss or undervalue disciplined living or thorough application of Scripture to lifestyle choices (especially things like clothing, language, entertainment forms, reading material)
  • Defines “legalism” vaguely, often suggesting (or stating outright) that all who believe rules are instrumental in sanctification are “legalists.”
  • Often proposes a radical distinction between what God explicitly commands and applications of what God has commanded, terming the latter “man made” and indicating they have no role in sanctification or godly living.

So it is these ideas that I’ve been arguing against. Though I’m getting pretty confused now what I’ve said in which thread, I’m pretty sure I’ve explained above in this thread what I mean by “man made rules,” why it’s impossible to live obediently to Scripture without them and probably also why I believe they have a very important role in sanctification.

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.

Charlie,

There is some language in para 7 (and maybe para 1) of Chapter 30 (The Lord’s Supper) that doesn’t sound very Zwinglian, though you still have this:

Paragraph 2. In this ordinance Christ is not offered up to his Father, nor any real sacrifice made at all for remission of sin of the quick or dead, but only a memorial of that one offering up of himself by himself upon the cross, once for all;3 and a spiritual oblation of all possible praise unto God for the same….

The part that is not usually a Baptist view today is the “spiritual presence” in para 7

Paragraph 7. Worthy receivers, outwardly partaking of the visible elements in this ordinance, do then also inwardly by faith, really and indeed, yet not carnally and corporally, but spiritually receive, and feed upon Christ crucified, and all the benefits of his death; the body and blood of Christ being then not corporally or carnally, but spiritually present to the faith of believers in that ordinance, as the elements themselves are to their outward senses.

I’m not sure if Zwingli was for that particular idea or not. But I’m not seeing anything like Calvin in the section on Baptism or elsewhere on Lord’s Supper. Interestingly the term “sacrament” is not used at all.

Off topic, but got too interested to leave it alone.

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,

As I said, it’s not something I’ve really studied. I have some Reformed Baptist friends who take a Calvinist view of the Lord’s Supper, and they think it has historical roots.

The sections you posted sound Calvinist to me. Paragraph 2 calls the Lord’s Supper a memorial, but that’s appropriate when contrasting the Supper with an ongoing sacrifice. I think even Lutherans would make that distinction.

Paragraph 7 is pretty much textbook Calvin.

My RB friends tell me “sacrament” and “ordinance” language isn’t necessarily an indicator of Eucharistic theology. Both terms were used in the 17th century by both groups. I mean, Zwingli used the term sacramentum all the time. I think modern Zwinglian Baptists have staked out their position by refusing sacrament language in favor of ordinance, but that doesn’t necessarily represent the 17th century usage.

I mean, there are probably more shades of sacramental theology than can be captured in a few labels, but from my quick glance, it looks more Calvinist than Zwinglian. Maybe the baptismal theology is different.

My Blog: http://dearreaderblog.com

Cor meum tibi offero Domine prompte et sincere. ~ John Calvin

[Charlie] However, there is the additional difficulty that it treats the regenerated and at least partially renewed Christian the same way that it treats the unregenerate. If the renewed person needs the Spirit to do good works the same way that the unregenerate needs the Spirit to believe, then what is the actual effect of regeneration? So, I follow you on your skepticism.

It’s not so easy, however, to propose an alternative view… . .

In a Spurgeon sermon I read about sanctification (“Threefold Sanctification”), he discusses the roles of the Father, Son and Spirit, and this type of sanctification that we are discussing is the Spirit’s work in us now.

So maybe that is why it is hard to verbalize. He’s really inside us doing this. And it’s personal, so maybe it is kind of a mystery how to describe it entirely.

Also, I was talking about this point with Vitaliy tonight, and he mentioned that it is illogical to us in this way: Like for the unbeliever, if you don’t believe, you are guilty; but if you do believe, it’s God’s work/doing (not yours). And for our sanctification, if we become more obedient in this life, it’s all God’s glory and work, but if we don’t, we’re guilty for that. It’s not logical in our sense of logic… . I think that’s the gist of what he was saying.

When the sinner believes it is the result of God’s work in him but it the believing itself is not God’s work. It is not work at all. I say this because (a) Paul’s definition of work is pretty much “that which is not faith.” He consistently sets the two in distinction from one another and where justification is concerned, they are mutually exclusive. But (b) The sinner is always the subject of the verb “believe” where a response to the gospel is the topic. The sinner is always and entirely the one who does the believing and repenting.

Luther broke saving faith down to notitia (knowing the facts of the gospel message), assensus (believing these facts are true) and fiducia (trust in Christ for salvation). But in all three, it is the sinner who notes, assents and trusts.

So, while it’s true that the salvation of a soul is God’s work, and the bringing of a sinner to belief is God’s work, the believing is always the sinner’s act (but not work because there is no merit in faith).

The key concept here is instrumentality. Christ’s work on the cross is the ground—the merit—of our justification. Our faith (yes, ours) is the instrument. We usually say we believe in “justification by faith alone,” but what we mean is “justification by Christ alone through faith alone.” Faith is the instrument.

A crude analogy might be how my kids get to church. They don’t walk and they don’t drive. Someone (usually my wife because I get there a lot earlier) brings them there. Their job is to get in the car. Getting in the car is analogous to faith. It does not contribute to their getting to church, it only relates them to what does get them to church. But… nobody gets in the car for them. They do it themselves.

Anyway, I’m increasingly thinking as I read on this here and elsewhere, that the key to clearing up confusion about sanctification is, in many ways, to understand justification precisely first. In particular, understanding the distinctions involved between merit/ground and instrumentality and then also the distinction between justification and sanctification.

They are different things and we should not assume they both work the same way. But I do believe they are very similar. That is, in sanctification—as in justif.—the merit remains all Christ’s (It is really no longer involved… sanctification is not about merit at all). But where justification comes through the instrumentality of our faith alone, sanctification employs the instrumentality of our works. This is possible because of our union with Christ, our new birth and the indwelling of the Spirit. In short, as I’ve said before, our works are instrumental in sanctification because we are not us anymore… not who we were.

There is no diminishing of God’s glory in saying that a creature He has made new He has also enabled to truly “work out [his/her] own salvation [in this case, sanctification in particular] with fear and trembling.”

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.

Anne,

I understand the connection. As I said, it’s not strictly illogical. It’s simply applying the same theology behind monergistic regeneration to sanctification.

But here is my question, and I think Aaron shares it: Why ​should ​we apply the same theory behind monergistic regeneration to sanctification? Is the analogy really appropriate?

If you ask any good Augustinian, they will say that the reason the Spirit must work monergistically in regeneration is that the person is spiritually dead and therefore incapable of in any way assisting and contributing. Ok, that’s fine.

But, the regenerate Christian is NOT spiritually dead. He has been made alive by union with Christ. So, the teaching of the 2LBCF that “besides the graces they have already received, there is necessary an actual influence of the same Holy Spirit, to work in them to will and to do of his good pleasure” seems inappropriate, at least if it is applied to each and every thought, love, and action. This actually undermines progressive sanctification, because there is no room for genuine progress. Either the Spirit is “on” or “off”. Oddly, it’s the Calvinist flipside of Keswick teaching, in which the believer’s surrender is either “on” or “off”.

We have to account for the past acts of God’s regenerating work when we think about the present. We have to acknowledge the work that God’s Spirit has already accomplished.

Take children as an analogy. When your child is a baby, he can do absolutely nothing for himself. He is totally helpless and incapable of doing anything for himself or for others. He is dependent on you for everything. The goal, though, is not to leave your child in that state of absolute dependence, but to enable your child to do things on his own. He will always need you, but the way he needs you will change from 6 months to 6 years to 16 years to 26 years. The 26 year old son both owes everything to the care of his parents and genuinely possesses in himself certain abilities.

So, the question is whether there exists an analogous spiritual maturing process or whether we remain ever as infants vis-a-vis God. Given the New Testament’s fondness for growth analogies, whether as humans or plants, I think there is something to this line of criticism.

Can I say, in a certain situation, that I do not need a special influence of the Holy Spirit to do good? And, that I do not need this additional influence, not because I am a naturally good person, but because the Holy Spirit has already done a certain work in me, the effect of which is evident now.

My Blog: http://dearreaderblog.com

Cor meum tibi offero Domine prompte et sincere. ~ John Calvin

R C Sproul has been very helpful to me on these topics recently… just because his precision of language on justification (and pretty much every topic he talks about) is unsurpassed by anyone I’m aware of. Even when I disagree with him, there is usually zero ambiguity or vagueness about where the disagreement lies.

I don’t have a good written resource to link to on this, but on justification, he’s quite good here in audio…

http://www.sovereigngracestore.com/Product/A2235-06-51/The_Center_of_Ch…

About 26 minutes in, he talks about instrumental causality. … then simul iustus et peccator and imputed alien righteousness

(Where this helps with sanctification is, among other things, it helps us see how different justification is from actual infusion of righteousness… it helps free us from thinking the two have to work the same way)

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.

When the sinner believes it is the result of God’s work in him but it the believing itself is not God’s work. It is not work at all. I say this because (a) Paul’s definition of work is pretty much “that which is not faith.” He consistently sets the two in distinction from one another and where justification is concerned, they are mutually exclusive. But (b) The sinner is always the subject of the verb “believe” where a response to the gospel is the topic. The sinner is always and entirely the one who does the believing and repenting.

1) But I don’t think you can so distinctly separate faith as not a work. “Therefore they said to Him, “What shall we do, so that we may work the works of God?” Jesus answered and said to them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent.”” John 6:28-29

2) ok, I don’t know what monergism means … but, one thing that is very intriguing about how God has arranged all this: He’s done it in a way that it is somehow actually us doing the “good”—Satan cannot accuse God in any way on that account; God has arranged it justly before those who would accuse Him. But the glory of the doing, the power, the initiative, is all of God.

3) the line about needing an actual influence of the Holy Spirit … ok, I’m chuckling. I’m pretty desperate … I’ll take all the actual influence I can by grace open myself up to ;) … . But I see your point. But I’m not sure if it’s correct to assume that salvation imparts … . oh shucks, maybe the Threefold Sanctification sermon touches on this? I mean, is the actual influence of the Spirit something different from abiding in Christ, for example?

[Anne] 1) But I don’t think you can so distinctly separate faith as not a work. “Therefore they said to Him, “What shall we do, so that we may work the works of God?” Jesus answered and said to them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent.”” John 6:28-29

What you have happening there is two individuals using the word “work” differently. Paul is consistent in setting faith in contrast to works in relation to justification. Jesus is also, I believe. His statement in John 6 is a play on words. As I take it, His answer is “Your work is to not work but believe instead.”

But in sanctification, we must believe and work. The two remain distinct, but both have a role.

[Charlie] Can I say, in a certain situation, that I do not need a special influence of the Holy Spirit to do good? And, that I do not need this additional influence, not because I am a naturally good person, but because the Holy Spirit has already done a certain work in me, the effect of which is evident now.

I think the answer to this is yes and no. That is, beginning the moment we are “new creations,” and building from there, we have more and more of the work of the Spirit that is now “us,” and there is no real difference between His resources and our own. They are part of us. But I don’t think we usually know when we’re tapping something in us God has already done vs. something He is doing now or is about to do. So we always have to work in a spirit of humble dependence—though what we actually experience consciously is old fashioned roll the sleeves up and try harder.

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.

Can you give me a few examples of how trying harder has been instrumental in sanctifying you more? I would be interested in understanding it. And what you mean by “trying harder.” And are you saying that trying harder is a pretty universal answer for us in questions of sanctification?

About faith and works: I would like to have this faith that Luther describes here, in his Intro to Romans.

Faith is not what some people think it is… . They think that, when you hear the gospel, you start working, creating by your own strength a thankful heart which says, “I believe.” That is what they think true faith is. But, because this is a human idea, a dream, the heart never learns anything from it, so it does nothing and reform doesn’t come from this `faith,’ either.

Instead, faith is God’s work in us, that changes us and gives new birth from God. (John 1:13). It kills the Old Adam and makes us completely different people. It changes our hearts, our spirits, our thoughts and all our powers. It brings the Holy Spirit with it. Yes, it is a living, creative, active and powerful thing, this faith. Faith cannot help doing good works constantly. It doesn’t stop to ask if good works ought to be done, but before anyone asks, it already has done them and continues to do them without ceasing. Anyone who does not do good works in this manner is an unbeliever. He stumbles around and looks for faith and good works, even though he does not know what faith or good works are… .

Faith is a living, bold trust in God’s grace, so certain of God’s favor that it would risk death a thousand times trusting in it. Such confidence and knowledge of God’s grace makes you happy, joyful and bold in your relationship to God and all creatures. The Holy Spirit makes this happen through faith. Because of it, you freely, willingly and joyfully do good to everyone, serve everyone, suffer all kinds of things, love and praise the God who has shown you such grace. Thus, it is just as impossible to separate faith and works as it is to separate heat and light from fire! … Ask God to work faith in you, or you will remain forever without faith, no matter what you wish, say or can do.

I need to think on this a little more.

I think it might be fair to say that I’m not aware of a single change in my life that didn’t involve trying harder. Really. But I’ll cite a few examples to make that more concrete.

  • During my first couple of years out of college, I had some financial difficulties. As a result, I was not giving to my church as much as I believed the Lord wanted me to. I had to try harder to spend money more wisely and so I could give as I believed was right. Eventually got there.
  • Seeking God and His word at the start of the day was quite inconsistent in my life until trying harder lead to the discovery that having a cup of tea pretty much makes the rest fall into place. (Really, it does… keeps me awake and slows me down at the same time)
  • Several major disappointments over the last decade required me to learn to manage my attitude far better. I was often talking myself into near total despair. What I had do was learn to intentionally think differently about these events… and that took a whole lot of trying harder.

To get really self-incriminating (kidding—I’m intentionally hunting for “safe” examples!), how about a couple examples of things that haven’t changed because I haven’t yet tried hard enough

  • I don’t exercise. Know I should. Know I’d be more effective serving if I did. Truth: nobody to blame for that but me. There is no work of the Spirit in me to wait for. I’ve got what I need. I just haven’t put forth the effort yet. Maybe tomorrow?
  • I still allow stressful situations to get me in fight/flight mode (usually fight—verbally) when that isn’t really called for, which results too often in what we usually call “losing temper.” Trying harder has had a role in this improving a great deal in my life, but I do believe I have a ways to go and that I am obligated to try harder.

Anticipating some objections…

​Some might read these and jump to “You think you changed because you tried harder?!” I’m not saying that I changed only because I tried harder. I’m saying that changes occurred, growth occurred, because God gave me a new birth, put His Spirit in me and provided me with His word and His people, and that—in obedience to Him—I exerted myself.

It’s never been my view that “trying harder” is enough or is the ultimate cause of change, but rather that “trying harder” is required and God uses it.

Secondly, some might think—especially in response to the “haven’t yet tried hard enough” examples: “You poor, joyless, frustrated Christian! God intended for you to know the joy of resting in Him!” I’m smiling as I write because I’ve heard and read this so many times! (And because so many of them have been utterly transparent efforts to rationalize passivity). But there is a false dichotomy, a false choice, behind this way of thinking: either I rest in Christ and what He has done for me or I try harder.

It’s false because while I try harder, I do so rejoicing that (a) the end of my story has already been written and in a word, it’s “glorified.” (Rom. 8:30 or so). (b) When “I” try harder, I do so has a person whom God has provided with all things necessary for life and godliness and I’m already not really “me” anymore. (c) When I fail, my standing is still in grace and there is no condemnation (though there is certainly disapproval), no loss of love, no reduction in my status as an adopted child. (d) Well, I better quit. This is becoming a tome…. OK, one more: though sometimes I am bitterly disappointed with myself, I can rejoice that this too is part of the process because I’m humbled by that and challenged to return to the gospel that tells me I will be like Christ​, that nothing can prevent that, and that I am not myself the ultimate cause of that transformation. God will bring it pass.

I’m often surprised that Reformed folks have trouble with this. Reformed theology has no problem understanding that though no human being has the power to persuade a dead sinner to become alive, yet we “persuade men” because we’re commanded to so and God uses that effort.

This is the better parallel with sanctification (better than paralleling it with justification): our trying harder is not really the cause of our transformation, but we are commanded to do so and God does use it. So it is accurate to say that growth results from trying harder as an instrument God uses.

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.