I remember a time a few years ago when I was speaking with a friend who was relating to me some difficulties in her life. I asked her, "What does the resurrection mean in this situation?" She answered, "I know it should mean something, but I don't know what."  Most of us are there. We know that the resurrection is important but we haven't connected it with our daily lives.

    Sometimes the chapter breaks in the Bible get in the way of our understanding truth. Here's the last two verses from Romans 4 and the first verse of Romans 5: 

"But the words 'it was counted to him' were not written for his [Abraham's] sake alone, but for ours also. It [righteousness] will be counted to us who believe in him who raised from the dead Jesus our Lord, who was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification. Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."

     The death of Jesus Christ was the ultimate expression of God's hatred of and wrath against sin. He slaughtered His own Son, pouring out upon Him all of the wrath for all of the sins of all of the elect that would have been their's for all of eternity -- in three short hours. Only the wrath of God could kill the Son of God. Christ's death signals God's wrath against sin. 

    So what does the resurrection signal? Simply  this: that Christ had paid the penalty and was now, once again, completely pleasing in the Father's sight. Jesus was back to being, "My Beloved Son, in Whom I am well-pleased." God raised Him up and declared Him, "Not guilty."

    Okay, that's all well and good as an interaction between the Father and the Son...but what about us? Here's the mind-blowing truth: When the Father punished the Son, he punished him for all the sin you ever have and ever will commit. All God's wrath for all your sin has been propitiated!  So, where does that leave you and I who believe that this substitution was for us? Here: We are His beloved children, with whom He is well-pleased.  Yes, we are not guilty -- but not simply not guilty. We are righteous and pleasing to Him. We are beloved sons and daughters -- with whom He is very pleased!

    How should this truth of expiated sin and complete acceptance and righteousness affect you today? All the personal sin you struggle with today has been taken care of. The enslaving power of it has been broken because you are now completely accepted and no longer guilty. Walking through suffering is transformed by the realities of His suffering for you and His guaranteed promise of future glory. He is completely at peace with you -- if you will believe that He is that good. 

    All the wrath is gone. You're completely pleasing to Him. All you have to do is believe. 

    For some of you, you may be thinking:" yeah, but what about confession ...repentance ...doing good...???"
To which I respond, "Of course!" All these things will be the natural outgrowth of true faith in Him and in what the resurrection says about Him, about you. But don't let the focus be on you and what you need to do. Let it be on Him and on what He's done. Then confess, obey, repent, do good. But don't do it because you feel guilty. Do it because you have been loved and welcomed. Do it because you're ALREADY very pleasing to Him and you love to serve Him.

    How important is the resurrection? It means everything."Wrath" is completely spent, "very pleasing" has come to stay.

    I woke up this morning troubled by yesterday’s failures. In fact, I spent most of the night last night, trying to drown out the voice of my inner slave driver who incessantly told me that I’m still the same and that I might as well give it up. More confessions: The truth is that I wasn’t primarily troubled this morning about my sin before God. Yes, of course, there was that, but I was mostly concerned about my reputation before others. The question, “Why did I say that?” led as it always does to, “I might as well give up.” It was this refrain that had repeated in my head all night long. “Nothing ever changes. Everything will always be the same. You’re no different now then you were decades ago…Just give up.” 

    Of course, I knew that the ways that I had sinned by not loving my neighbor, by trying to impress others, was ultimately tied to the gospel but I was having trouble getting there. The first impulse of my heart was to “get my act together.” I determined what I needed to do to demonstrate that I really was going to be different today. Honestly, I wasn’t drawn to prayer and Bible reading. I felt agitated and was drawn to list making. But God in His kindness inclined my heart to start my day back where I needed to. In my reading through Romans, this was my portion for the day; this was how God spoke to me:

In hope he believed against hope, that he should become the father of many nations, as he had been told, "So shall your offspring be." He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was as good as dead (since he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah's womb. No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised. That is why his faith was "counted to him as righteousness" (Rom 4:18-22 ESV). 

    God made a promise to Abraham that he would become the father of many nations, that his children would number as many as the stars in the heavens. The promise had been given twenty-five years before but still he had no children. He considered his own body and the barrenness of Sarah’s womb – their inability to fulfill their part of God’s promise should have crushed his faith. But Paul tells us that he “grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God.” 

    I know that you’re familiar with this story and that you know that its ultimate fulfillment is in the promised Messiah. But this morning this story spoke to my heart in this way: I could look at the weakness and barrenness of my life. Those were, indeed, true realities. In response, I could get out my list, my sticky-notes, and devise ways of feeling better about myself. To switch back to our patriarch’s story, I could go visit Hagar. Or I could give glory to God knowing that even though I am still so very weak, so very barren of true love for my neighbor, God had already promised me that I would be fruitful and that my life would somehow count. How? Only through faith in the righteousness of another. It was in this process of rehearsing God’s promises to me, of giving Him glory for His wonderful mercy, grace and kindness, that my heart was changed and I walked out into faith again.
 
    Every morning…every moment of every day…I have a choice to make. I can trust in my heart’s default position: Work it out, work harder, prove I’m better, show that I do love my neighbor, engage with Hagar and my sticky-notes. Or, I can rest in His promise that even though I look at myself and realize that for me it’s been nearly forty years since I first believed the promise, the One who is able to speak into existence things that don’t exist, has declared that I am righteous now and that this faith is enough now. It must be enough or I can’t breathe. That was the choice for me today and it’s the choice we all face every day.
 
    Don’t get nervous. I’m not saying that now I’ll cavalierly spend my day being rude and popping bon-bons. No, this transformation means that I have faith to fight the war again – this time with a smile. I have the courage to get up again and seek to love my neighbor and love my Father because I know that for Him…it’s enough. My belief in His grace is enough for Him. May it be enough for me today, Lord.

 

 

I’ve always felt like I’m the odd one out…like everyone else is on the inside and I’m standing there, tapping on the window pleading in a whiney-sounding voice, “Hey, guys…I’m out here…can I come in, too, pleeeaaase?”

When I was a child I had a terrifying recurring dream, especially when I was fevered. In it I was standing on a dark stage and I was completely alone. I was aware of the fact that I was alone and had no place to hide. The isolation was horrifying. Five decades later, that dream still impacts me.

Then, when I was a teen, Petula Clark recorded a song entitled, “The In Crowd.” In the song she boasted, “ I’m in with the in crowd, I go where the in crowd goes…I know what the in crowd knows.” Well, needless to say, most of us never really hung out with the “in crowd”. Most of us relate more to tapping on the window, hoping to be let in. But, even if you’re one of those popular people who always found yourself “in”, you know that sense of belonging doesn’t last for very long because there is always another group that’s more in than yours. We weren’t meant to find our identity in the “in crowd” or the cool, loser “out crowd”, or in the “isolated, I-don’t-give-a-rip” crowd. We are meant to find our identity in Christ.

Adam and Eve never experienced this awareness of alienation before the Fall. In fact, wasn’t their sin and subsequent exile from Eden the genesis of our sense that we “just don’t belong”? Ashamed, banished from their true home, we’ve all been wandering ever since…seeking and never really finding that one place where we know we’re loved, welcomed, accepted for who we are: Home. None of us really fit in here because we’re not meant to find our primary identity in family or friends. We’re meant to find our identity in Christ.

Why is there such alienation? Why do we feel so alone? Our problem is that we are sinners. Our sin separates us from each other. Others sin against us and we turn from them in disappointment or disgust. We sin against others and they turn away from us, too. We see their sin and feel self-righteous and wary of relationship with them – as if their sin might contaminate us. We see our sin and feel guilty and self-condemned so we hide, hoping that the “good face” we put on will be enough to fool them and open the door to relationship, to home. And, worst of all, at the bottom of all this separation, we feel alienated from God. “How can God love and welcome me?” is the question that’s at the heart of, “How can you love me? How can I love you?” These questions plague us, so we continue to hide, tap on the window, hope that we’ll be let in and all the while fearing that we will be. We think that we’re different from everyone else when, in fact, we’re all the same. That’s the secret that our enemy keeps trying to hide from us all. We all feel alienated. No one is ever assured that they’re really in the “in crowd”, no matter what Petula Clark says.

The Bible tells us that Jesus Christ, the High Priest who became one of us, was tempted in every way, just as we are, yet without sin (Hebrews 4:15). He became part of the “loser” crowd. What this means is that he was tempted to experience sinful self-consciousness, self-protection, self-pity, isolation, comparison and judging. He was tempted to disassociate Himself from the sinners around Him; He was tempted to idolize the love and support of friends; He was tempted to worship the opinions of others rather than the opinion of His Father. He was tempted to love popularity with people more than He loved people. He was tempted to find His identity apart from His Father.

The gospel tells us that because of the incarnation, we are not alone in our temptations. But his identification with us is not the only good news he brings. He has gone before us, yet without sin, so His perfect record is ours: He took up the towel, He laid down His life, He prayed in anguish alone, He was crucified outside the city, He was forsaken by His Father. Remember that in all this, He never sinned. Justification means (in part) that His perfect record is now ours. His servant-love, His self-sacrifice, His faith in the midst of abandonment is now how our record reads before the Father who isn’t fooled by our outward appearances. Amazing grace! When the Father sees us He sees loving, generous, servants who find their identity in Him. We’ve been let in because he was alone (amazing!) and sinless (more amazing!) and that’s our record (shockingly amazing!).

The blessing of justification is that it not only makes us welcome before the Father, it also frees us to love and welcome others. Because everything that we’re vainly trying to hide has already been publically declared about us (we’re so sinful we deserve to die!), we don’t need to fear relationship. We don’t need to hide. Because we’ve been forgiven and declared righteous: welcomed and loved by God, we don’t need to fear rejection either. He was righteous and rejected for us. We can forgive, love and serve because we’ve been forgiven, loved and served. Isn’t that the message of 1 John?

When you step off into eternity and wonder if you’ll be tapping on the window of heaven, hoping to be let in, or if you’ll be on that blacked out stage, standing completely isolated on your own, your Husband, Jesus Christ will come to you, take your arm and say, “She’s (he’s) with me.” Then, when our faith becomes sight we’ll know that we’re part of the only “in crowd” that will ever matter…and all because of what He’s done for us.

 

        The workers were an hour and a half late arriving at my home. Now that they had finally come, I struggled to get my dogs outside, necessitating my dragging them out of the house by their collars. I had been working on an article on my laptop in the kitchen, getting ready to eat lunch and I now, too, needed to get out of the way. So I decided to stack a plate, a boxed salad, two phones and a nice big cup of coffee on a tray and try to navigate my way out the sliding door onto my patio. Strange thing, though…that tray? It was actually the keyboard of my laptop. I’m sure you can guess what happened next. The coffee went flying and my computer fried.

        I confess that I had been impatient with the tardy workers and stubborn dogs. I responded to this situation in a sinfully foolish manner. While I was cleaning up the mess, I knew a fried computer was what I deserved. I hadn’t loved my neighbor nor the Lord as I should have. I had quickly fallen into self-righteousness and pride: “I’m never late!” “These dogs should obey!” “Stacking all this stuff on my computer might be foolish for some people, but I can handle it!” A fried computer was undoubtedly what I had earned.

        Don’t misunderstand. As I walked through the next few hours and the real possibility of having ruined my computer, I didn’t question whether God had stopped loving me. I thought that He was lovingly using my sin to teach me a lesson. I knew that I deserved a slap on the hand and I thought He had given me one. It was time for me to pay the price for my sin – not the ultimate price, of course, no, not the atonement.  Just a little hand slapping from a loving God who knew what I needed.

        But then, something amazing happened. I received unexpected news of answered prayer.  I was delighted and stunned. I had assumed that this day would be a day of hand slapping. I thought I knew what I needed: a lesson about the follies of impatience and pride. But this surprising answered prayer wasn’t a slap. No, it was a kiss on the cheek. And then, the next morning…another kiss. My computer was limping back to life. I didn’t lose all my data. What did I deserve? A slap. What did I get? A kiss.

        For most of my Christian life I would have been very comfortable with saying that the Lord disciplines me for my sin (a slap on the hand), but would have struggled terribly with thinking the Lord blesses me in the face of my sin (a kiss on the cheek). Is there room in our very-serious-about-the-sinfulness-of-sin theology to say that sometimes, (many times?), the Lord woos us into obedience through kisses rather than slaps?

        Although I know and love the gospel, I frequently find myself functioning in that quid-pro-quo, “God as Vending Machine,” world. I fight sin and fulfill my spiritual duties and expect God’s blessing or at least protection from fried computers. Conversely, when I don’t fight sin or when I neglect prayer, I assume God will discipline me. Don’t misunderstand -- I recognize that both blessings and discipline are functions of His Fatherly love for me. It’s just that I think I know how He should motivate me to obey. But He uses both slaps and kisses.

        Now, here’s where the gospel turns everything we know about how we grow in obedience on its head. It speaks of kisses of betrayal given to our Faithful Friend (Luke 22:48). It tells me that He was slapped for me and punished for my rebellion. I read that “…the guards received Him with blows” (Mark 14:6). He got kisses and slaps…for me. And because He has endured all that, He’s free to bless me and woo me and speak tenderly to me and surprise me with little kisses on the cheek when I least expect it..when I’m expecting the slap. His kindness is meant to lead me to repentance. His kisses draw me near. And now, instead of thinking about my guilt and punishment, I’m spending my day thinking of His kindness and it frees me to love him in return.

        Am I saying that’s all He ever does? No, of course not. Discipline, as Hebrews tells us, is painful rather than pleasant. But, then again, haven’t there been times when you know you deserve a slap and suddenly He dazzles you with a sweet kiss on the cheek?  Is there room in our theology for a God who kisses His dear foolish children and draws them with cords of love? Do we really believe that it is the “grace of God” that saves us and trains us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions and makes us zealous for good works? (Titus 2:11-14)

         

         

         

        I live in Southern California and now that it’s summer, a familiar problem has returned.  The problem is immodesty and now that the temperature is rising, the problem is becoming more and more obvious…again. But summer or not, modesty has been a topic of concern for me during my whole life. For instance, back in the days when I was in Catholic school, modesty was demanded. At any point during the day a nun could check to see if I was obeying the rules about skirt length. I had to kneel on the floor and if my skirt didn’t touch the ground, I was given demerits. (Of course, as soon as the nun turned the corner, we all hiked up our skirts again!)

Taking a cue from my parochial education, perhaps now that it is summer, I’m tempted to think that we should install immodesty checkpoints at the doors of the sanctuary. Perhaps we should make up rules about inappropriate clothing and station a deaconess or two at the doors to be sure that the rules are being enforced…better also station one ‘around the corner’ for when the young girls hike their skirts up again!

        On the other hand, perhaps we should just ignore the whole immodesty problem all together because after all, “God looks on the heart…” And our pastors and brothers will just have to learn to look only at a woman’s face.

Rules? No rules? Is there a better way? Is it found in the gospel?


      Hebrews 4:15 informs me that my Savior has been tempted in “every respect” as I have, yet without sin. Could this possibly mean that Jesus was tempted to immodesty but didn’t sin? Because we don’t usually think in these terms about Jesus, perhaps at this juncture it might be helpful for me to define what I mean by “modesty.” Christian modesty is simply a refusal to show off out of love for God and one’s neighbor. Jesus refused to show off His power. For instance, when tempted by Satan, He refused to show off His ability to turn stones into bread or cast Himself off a high tower (Matt 4:1f). When attacked by His accusers, He “opened not His mouth” (Isa 53:7). When facing the humiliation and excruciating pain of the cross, He refrained from appealing to His Father for legions of angels who were waiting to bring Him deliverance (Matt 26:53). Jesus didn’t show off His power or authority because He loved His neighbor, His bride. Jesus was modest because He loved the church.

     Conversely, immodesty flows out of the heart of a show off. Maybe we’ve worked hard at the gym or purchased an expensive new pair of jeans. Maybe we want to prove how free we are to dress in any way we choose, no matter how scandalous. When we show-off we’re failing to love our brother (and sisters) who may be tempted to lust or covetousness or sinful imitation. Showing off is a fruit of pride and love of self. Immodesty demonstrates a cold unconcern for the church.

        The beauty of the gospel, however, is that it informs us about who we are and what Jesus has already done. While it convicts us that we’re all unloving show-offs (in some way), it also assures us that we’ve been loved and that we no longer need to show off to get other people’s approval because  (here’s the best news of all!) the record of our Modest Redeemer is ours! Our identity isn’t wrapped up in the approval or envy or lust of others. Our identity is found in Christ’s life, death and resurrection. Christ is our life. He loved us and refrained from showing off so that we could be His and freed from the need to prove that we’ve got a great body or wardrobe or…because we’ve been lavished with His love instead.

        Of course, in this promiscuous culture women (and men) might need to be taught what modest attire looks like and there’s nothing wrong with doing so. It’s just that the transforming power that changes a show off into a servant doesn’t come from rules about blouses or skirts. It comes from remembering the gospel and seeking to show Him off instead. So, let’s spend this summer talking about modesty…mostly His.

 

 

There is simply nothing like God's love. God's love is so high above ours, so powerful and transformational, there's really no comparison. I suppose that living in the veritable "light" of that love is what will make heaven as wonderful as it will be.

Here's thesis 28: The love of God does not first discover but creates what is pleasing to it. The love of man comes into being through attraction to what is pleasing to it.

J C Ryle echoed Luther when he wrote, "Our love is excited by the extraordinary charms of worth and grace... Who ever loved that which was altogether hateful? Such is the manner of man." The manner of our God is entirely different. "God loves us before one particle of grace enters our soul, when we are a loathsome mass of vice and iniquity. God loves that which is altogether unlovely." (Holiness)

God "loves sinners, evil persons, fools, and weaklings in order to make them righteous, good, wise and strong. Rather than seeking its own good, the love of God flows forth and bestows good." (113)

Look it, here's the truth about me and my "love". I have problems loving even those I find lovable. That's not to say that the Lord hasn't worked in my heart, but the longer I bask in God's love for me in Christ, the more I understand that I don't really love like this at all. In fact, I think it's kind of funny when people make fools of themselves on WipeOut and bounce off those big balls or get smashed in the gut with the sweeper. Oh, for the day when I can look into the face of my brothers and sisters and really love them...freely, genuinely, generously.  But in the meantime, my love is "awakened by attraction to what pleases it. It must search to find its object and, one might add, will likely toss it aside when it tires of it." (113) So, won't you please sign up for WipeOut so I can laugh at you?

Christ did not come to call the righteous (lovable). He came to call unlovable sinners. "This is the love of the cross, born of the cross, which turns in the direction where it does not find good that it may enjoy, but where it may confer good upon the bad and needy person. 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'" (Go figure. Did you ever understand that verse in that context? I sure didn't.)

"God is not, as in the theology of glory, one who waits to approve of those who have improved themselves, made themselves acceptable, or merited approval [through believing!], but [he is] one who bestows good on the bad and needy." (113)

And so we come to the end of our disputation. We began talking about our utter poverty and inability to obey the law. We must die. "The sinner must be reduced to nothing." (114) We must suffer the humiliation of knowing we bring nothing but debt. But we can face this destruction of our "ego" because we've been loved. We haven't been loved because of anything lovable within us. We've been loved because He chose to love us and in that very act of choosing us and loving us into His kingdom, he's made us perfectly righteous. It's from this position of having been loved like this that experiential heart change takes place. We begin to love others -- not in any effort to earn or merit -- but simply in response to what he's done in loving us. God looks over the whole earth of our hearts, sees that they are formless and void, sends the Spirit to brood over us, and creates that which he can look upon and call "very good." He creates ex nihilo -- out of nothing. From the "nothing" of our souls he creates beauty that pleases him.  

In Christ we have true goodness because God's love is powerfully transformative and makes us, by the very act of loving us, worthy of love. Yippee?!

************************************************************************

I've enjoyed doing this study with you all. Thanks to all of you, particularly those of you who posted. Thanks for the lively discussions and pushing me to think more deeply.

I'll be back to this in a few days with some thoughts on how we might proceed from here. Oh, BTW, if you're interested you might check out my store at www.shop.elysefitzpatrick.com. I'm trying to help fund our son Joel's seminary education, so if you want to buy any of my resources, please check us out and Joel will be glad to serve you.

Why don't you write back with your fav Luther/Forde quote? Thanks for dropping by.

Lovely. Here's one of the most beautiful theses in the whole disputation and one which, if we but believe, will enable and "arouse" us to good works.

For those of you who don't have the book in front of you here it is: "Rightly speaking, therefore, the work of Christ should be called the operative power, and our work, the operation: so our operation is pleasing to God by the grace of the operative power."
 
Yes, yes I know that's a bit confusing, but don't succumb to lazy Summer Brain. It's summer and today it's supposed to be 95...although "they" keep saying that the weather is cooling...it's still going to be 95 today. I know all about lazy Summer Brain. I'm tired of it being hot and, yes, I know I'm a weather-pansy and this hot weather gives me lazy brain...or perhaps it's just an excuse for me to not push through and really think. Maybe it's the same for you. I'll try to help and hope that my poor old-lazy really-gray cells will come alive and that I don't have a hot-flash in the meantime.

Here's what Luther means in a nutshell: "The real operative power in all works that can be called "good" is the work of Christ, that outrageous assertion that in Christ all that God demands has been fulfilled and that this Christ dwells in us by faith. The believer is "aroused" to work through living faith in Christ's work, to be "imitators" of God..."drawn" after Christ." (111)

So it is this very knowledge...come on...track with me...the very knowledge that everything, yes really everything!!! has already been done for us AND that Christ dwells within us in power and love. Here are the two sides of this truth: Christ has done everything that needs to be done by us AND he indwells us giving us his mind and his Spirit and his desires. I think that deserves a "wow." Wow.

I found myself sinfully angry at ineptitude yesterday. This happened in a number of areas too boring to discuss. I awakened this morning to the realization that my life and love yesterday wasn't anywhere near what I think it should be -- again. How do I fight to try to believe that today will be different? Where is the joy and peace and faith that will overlook the small trifles of others and rest contentedly in God's providence? Simply here: Everything that I should have done yesterday was done by Him in my place. Everything I shouldn't have done (but did, nevertheless) was atoned for by Him in my place. This alone is my record today. And this is the motivation to try again. Yes, I'm sinful and impatient and short-sighted and crabby (a nice word). But he isn't and His record is mine! Not only that, but He's indwelling me by His Spirit, so my union with Him assures me TODAY that I have unhindered access and full acceptance before Him and that I can fight this sin again.

So now this is what I understand from Luther/Forde and Thesis 27: "The impetus to do good works comes entirely from being moved, aroused, and motivated by the completed work of Christ, who dwells in the believer through faith." (111) He has loved me like this! He has atoned for it all! He has completed it all! He's placed himself, as a good husband in union with me. That's love and it's that sort of motivation or operation that God has accomplished that draws me to good works. God pleases himself by completing all the work for me, saying "It is good" and then loves, woos, draws, impels and motivates me to get up off my sinful...ness and fight the war again today, even though it's hot and I'm a pansy. Only love motivates us to continue to fight. The law fails. Our pride wains. Our good intentions fade in the heat of idolatrous desires for ease and comfort and a cool day. Only his love for us motivates or as William Romaine wrote -- we need the power of a new affection -- affections that have been warmed and enlivened by such a love as this.

Okay...there you've got it. Back to the iced tea and Lazy Summer Brain. You're loved and welcomed even when you're sitting in a pool of sweat and your faith is wilted and you couldn't care less and you wished people had their act together (like you). And..if you live in Phoenix, I don't want to hear about how hot it is there. It's supposed to be hot in the desert. It's not supposed to be hot in San Diego. .

How on earth I'm going to encapsulate in a few short paragraphs the depth of the riches and wisdom and grace and mercy of God as distilled by Luther/Forde on pages 107-110, I don't know. When practically the entire passage has been underlined (more than once) and I've got my personal notes scribbled in margins and exclamation points everywhere...how can I distill this for you?  I feel what Forde must have felt as he wrestled and finally gave up and said,

"The language has to break out into preaching. Never mind that when we look to ourselves we find no sign of good works. Never mind our fears and anxieties. We are looking in the wrong place. Look to Christ! He has done it all. Nothing will be gained by trying to shore up the OId Adam. Christ leaves nothing for the Old Adam and Eve to do. The old can only be killed by the law, not given artificial respiration by recourse to it. That is the point of the language here and its exuberance. To the theologian of the cross the language of grace and faith must be pushed absolutely to this length -- until it kills the old and raises the new. We will only fall back into law where the demand continues endlessly and nothing is ever finally done. So we can only let the language of grace sound forth. Grace says, "believe it" and everything -- EVERYTHING! -- is already done. It is the creative Word of God. If that doesn't work then nothing will." (110)

I'm having to control myself now. I want to dance! I'm remembering that lovely scene from the movie Babe when the staid old farmer is alone with his pig and the music starts and he dances with abandon for joy. That's what I'm feeling right now. I'm getting a feeling that that's what I'll feel like for eternity in heaven. EVERYTHING! has already been done! Yippee! I'm in love! I'm filled with joy! I'm at peace! I am coming to "know and believe the love that God has for me." This is a Dancing-Shoe-Mandatory Zone. Don't be afraid that this kind of talk will make you apathetic, lazy, cavalier. Just the opposite will happen.  Don't be afraid of being loved like this.

I don't know how to proceed. I'm stuck trying to decide how to summarize what Lewis called "the language of heaven" (joy). I'll just write out the thesis and a few of my favorite quotes and let them work on you till your feet start twitching and you've got to jump up and burst forth with hallelujahs and thank you's:

Thesis 26: The law says, "do this," and it is NEVER done. Grace says, "believe in this," and EVERYTHING IS ALREADY DONE.

"In commanding love law can only point helplessly to that which it cannot produce...What the Law requires is freedom from the law." (108)

"...grace, instead of demanding love, simply gives it unconditionally. It is simply the "I love you."

"Faith justifies. Faith is the righteousness God wants and aims to get...Faith obtains what the law commands. Through faith Christ is in us. We fulfill everything through him since he was made ours through faith."

"The insistence that only those works are truly good that are done spontaneously and joyously out of faith, hope, and love belongs to the very heart of Luther's Reformation. That is why he can make the claim that faith doesn't have to be prompted to do good works because the Christ who fulfilled all things dwells within the person of faith, EVERYTHING! has already been done! There is simply nothing to do!...The Christ of the cross takes away the possibility of doing something."

And now to the truth that this entire discussion has been heading: The point is precisely that the power to do good comes only out of this wild claim that EVERYTHING! has already been done. (110) 

Oh, my sister, my brother: be done with the law! Embrace this faith, this wild, illogical, incomprehensible reality. EVERYTHING! has already been done! Wholly lean on Jesus' Name! I'm singing now...On Christ the solid Rock I stand...All other ground (my own works, abilities, goodnesses) is SINKING SAND! ALL OTHER GROUND IS SINKING SAND.  Flee the sinking sand. Get up now. Lift up your hands. Dance and believe. Really. Now.

With this discussion we begin the final section of our book. Since there are only 4 theses and they're each so very yummy, I think I'll write a bit on each one. Here's the first:

Thesis 28: He is not righteous who works much, but he who, without work, believes much in Christ.

As Forde writes, this doctrine of justification by faith alone, is always "a polemical doctrine and a permanent offense to the Old Adam and Eve." (104) Yes, it is, once again insulting to think that I have nothing to bring. Honestly, when I read that thesis, I begin to wonder if I'm doing enough believing -- you know, if I'm working hard enough at it? Ah, my heart.

Then Forde writes what I think is one of the most pointed and profound sentences in the whole book: "What is asserted here is precisely that God simply is not interested in works issuing out of the self's concern for its own righteousness." (104) I'm reminded of Tim Keller's parable of the man who gives a horse to the king believing that he'll be richly rewarded for it. When he doesn't receive anything honoring his gift and asks why, the king's paraphrased response is, "You were giving that horse to yourself and you have your reward." If we are doing good so that we receive God's approbation, we are doing it for ourselves not God.

What it means to die and be raised to newness of life in Christ is simply believing in Christ and dying to everything I would bring to assure myself and earn credit from the Lord. "Works performed on the premise that one was going to become righteous thereby are not good to begin with. They defend us against the goodness of God. They are not done for the neighbor but for the glory of the self."  (105) This has been the theme of our discussions throughout this entire book, hasn't it?

Then Forde brings us to the wonderful reality that there are works that come from us, but they "flow from righteousness as from an overflowing vessel...It is not like accomplishing something but like dying and coming to life. It is not like earning something but more like falling in love..Once it is clear and actually believed that only we who 'without works' believe much in Christ are righteous before God, once that preposterous joy actually hits us, a new day dawns. It is like the joy and ecstasy of love...[So that now] the way is cleared for good works.

I love those words. I love preposterous joy and the ecstasy of love. I'm thrilled that my works, because they are his and have already been done are like falling in love. Of course I want to work when I think in this way. I'm in love! I've got zeal to work and pray and witness because I've been fully convinced that he loves me this much, he's this good, his grace is this great. Now...I can rest and while I rest I can work. Freely, joyfully, zealously, lovingly. Why? Because "Good works are God's work" in me. He's already done everything that needed to be done and so, in response to that and because of the work of the Spirit in my heart, I can joyously serve. 

If service has become onerous to you, don't decide to buckle down, make a list and try harder. No, you need to fall in love. And how will that happen? Think about what he's already done for you and believe.

Let's discuss the second half of our section, "The Great Divide: The Way of Glory versus the Way of the Cross" now. I'm going to collapse this entire section into one entry, even though there are so many wonderful thoughts here.

Forde begins his discussion of thesis 21 by pointing out our tendency to want to blame our "theology" [something outside of us] for our love of the glory story. Of course, this is just another way we try to dodge our inner fallenness.  He writes, "Our temptation is always to change the subject. In this case the blame is switched from us to theology...[The truth is that] [t]he theologian is ALWAYS the culprit here, not the theology as such." (81)

I can see this very clearly in my own thinking. I frequently militate against the theology of glory without remembering that it is the theologian of glory who is the problem. We construct these faulty theologies, as Forde writes, because we "must". "Faulty seeing leads inexorably to false speaking." So let's have an end to believing that if we could just straighten out everyone's theology we'd all be fine. No, the problem is that our man-centered theologies have their genesis in our man-centered hearts. We'll never get completely over this. At least not in the here-and-now.

A theologian of the cross, then, learns to see and speak plainly. She [he] learns to talk honestly and openly about what we do and what happens to us. We see this most clearly in the ways we respond to suffering. The suffering that Forde/Luther is referring to here is the good suffering of knowing that you are "worthless and that [your] works are not [yours] but God's." This is the great suffering that the theologian of glory refuses to admit. Instead he "prefers works to suffering, glory to the cross, strength to weakness, wisdom to folly, and, in general, good to evil." (82)  

It's only through the good of the suffering of the cross that we can see and know good and truth as it is. "Direct, plain, entirely unsentimental, but for that reason difficult and offensive words" are the result of seeing the suffering of the cross and embracing it. 
What seems evil is actually good. What seems good is actually evil. "Good" Friday seems evil. What can be "good" about a stripped, humiliated, bloodied, dying man stretched out on a Roman cross, receiving insults? What can be good about God's plan seeming to have gone awry? Good question. What's good about railing against Whitney Houston's lyrics deifying children..."Show them all the beauty they possess inside, Give them a sense of pride..."? Should we give children a "sense of pride"? Don't they already have it? I'm pretty sure that's something I passed on to my kids without any help from Whitney. Good for me.

So, here we are again, "We are inveterate theologians of glory We are tempted and bound to be so. We invest all our capital in works...We depend upon and glory in our works and we call these self-serving deeds good. Suffering [primarily in admitting that what the cross says about us is true, but also admitting our struggle with sin in the midst of difficulty] is bad." (83)

"The suffering that Luther has in mind first and foremost is the result of God's operation on the sinner...We suffer this unilateral action of God. We suffer because we don't like it. We don't like being put out of control. It means that we are rendered totally passive by the divine operation through the cross and resurrection of Jesus...". (87)

Narratives like the Book of Job mystify and terrify us so we make up excuses about why Job suffered. I've heard it said that Job suffered because he was afraid so what he "feared came upon him." This is again a perfect example of the defenses we must erect against seeing the cross and God's view of suffering as it is: good. Forde writes that we're like "Job's friends, [who] try to make excuses for God. We adjust our doctrine of God to fit our glory projects. If God doesn't 'play fair', how can our works count? Thus we render God innocuous by our flattery. Instead of being brought to the praise of God, we bend our efforts to justify him." (89) Yipes.

"God can be known and had only through the divine deed of the cross. The cross...attacks and afflicts. Knowledge of God comes when God happens to us, when God does himself to us. We are crucified with Christ (Gal 2:19). There is no cure for the theology of glory." (90) The only cure is death. Our only hope is that we have been crucified with Christ! 

Let me draw one more point from this section and leave you to meditate on these truths. We love the law (and rules and charts and lists and...) because we think it will help us be better people. We think that God is the "pot of gold at the end of our rainbow of merit." (85) Aside from our Christian lists, the world bombards us continually to trust in ourselves. For instance, I've decided that I'm not going to buy any product that advertises itself as helping me "feel good" about myself. This is such...um...garbage. These advertisers are appealing to our sinful desire for self-righteousness to sell their products by telling us we can "save the planet." Whatever. Want to be good? Feel good? Simply buy our product. Being green, eating organic is where it's at. At the end of the day how many people assure their souls that they are good because they recycled or ate free-range eggs? No wonder our kids starve themselves. I'm pretty confident that at the end of time when I stand before God he won't be asking me, "What did you do with my chickens? Did you recycle your plastics?" May God have mercy on us!

Here's Forde and then I'll be done:

"Religiously we like to look on ourselves as potential spiritual athletes desperately trying to make God's team, having perhaps just a little problem or two with the training rules. We have a thirst for glory...We are always tempted to return to the safety and assurance of doing something anyway. Generally, it is to be suspected, that is all we planned to do, a little something. But to surrender the "wisdom" of law and works, or better, to have it taken away, is the first indication of what it means to be crucified with Christ."(92-93) God must "extinguish" the desire for glory by merit through the suffering of the cross. 

Why is Good Friday called good? Because true good was accomplished there: a good we could never conceive, a good that seems evil, a good that strikes and crushes our sense of pride and a good that ultimately frees us to die, to be resurrected and to live freely. This is the good that God alone will accomplish in all his children.