“What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound?” (Rom. 6:1). Paul pressed the wonderful truth of grace to the edge of heresy. If our intent is to preach orthodox, gospel grace, we must go just that far. Are you teaching salvation ordained by God alone, wrought by Jesus Christ, and proclaimed in the power of the Holy Spirit? Then your hearers should be asking the question that was asked of Paul, “Should I not sin all the more so that grace may flourish?” Many of us “tame” the radical nature of God’s grace to the point that we would never have that question asked of us.
The cosmic criminal (each one of us) stands guilty and condemned before God. The holy and omniscient Judge has vindicated the righteousness of His verdict by exposing the sin accumulated by the transgressor minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, week by week, and year by year. The sinner stands knowing the truth of the verdict. In desperation he drops to his knees and cries in a flow of tears, “O God, have mercy on me a sinner.” He falls on his face. All is quiet. Nothing can be heard except his sobbing plea over and over. Then he hears what cannot be true. The court declares his innocence. Can this be? Is the Judge unjust, or has He found some worth in the vile man? Then he hears the explanation: “Arise. My Son has taken all your evil to Himself and suffered the punishment that should have fallen on you.”
This is not a vignette taken from the final judgment. Such scenes have been repeated through the centuries as God has worked in the hearts and minds of sinners, revealing to them the heinous nature of their sins, the certainty of His judgment, and the incredible grace of justification through faith in the atoning death and resurrection of His Son. This is a grace that leaves angels and mankind in astonishment and wonder.
Does the reprobate whom we saw sobbing over his sin and guilt at the foot of the cross rise and return to his former life of rebellion and degeneracy, rejoicing that he can now sin without inhibition? Such a thought is alien to the gospel. There is a vast difference between grace and permissiveness. The grace of justification and regeneration brings an objective change to the hearts and minds of sinners. There is a negative attitude toward sin and a love of God hat was not previously present. In other words, as Thomas Brooks wrote, “Just as heat is opposed to cold, and light to darkness, so grace is opposed to sin.”
Why do we then see church members who speak of the grace and love of God and yet sin with abandon? The grace they have learned from their pulpits is counterfeit. It is a not a grace freely given by a holy and just God who has sworn a righteous judgment on all sin. Rather, it is a permissive leniency of a god who winks at sin. It is a grace that knows nothing of God’s hatred of sin, the awful justice of Calvary, and the sinner’s redemption from the righteous wrath of God. Thus, the recipient of this pseudo-grace regards his mediocre salvation with a levity that allows him to “enjoy” God and continue his selfish, materialistic, immoral life unchanged. We must ask the church: “Where is the preaching and teaching of the fearsome holiness and justice of God, the odious nature and wages of sin, and the terrible price that was paid at Calvary for the redemption of sinners?” Without such truth, there will be no understanding of true gospel grace.
The genuine, amazing grace of God gives birth to a life consistent with that grace and remarkably different from the previous life centered on self-gratification. It is not a rote obedience to a law code. It is a behavior of supernatural love, joy, and peace demonstrated and bestowed by Christ and empowered by the Holy Spirit living in us. In Roman 6:14-15 we read that we are not under the law but under grace. The motivation of grace is far more powerful than the motivation of the law. +
- Rev. John P. Sartelle is senior minister of Tates Creek Presbyterian Church in Lexington, Kentucky.
- From September 2010 Tabletalk Magazine
Pilate was a weak, wicked man. Thus the account in Luke 13:1–5 is entirely credible. The details may be obscure, but the general picture is clear enough. Some Galileans had offered sacrifices: if they were Jews, they must have done so at the temple in Jerusalem. Perhaps they were involved, or were perceived to be involved, in some wing of the nationalistic Zealot movement, and Pilate saw them as a threat. He had them slaughtered, and their blood mingled with the blood of the sacrificial animals they themselves had brought. If the mingling of blood is literal, this means that Pilate had them slaughtered in the temple courts—sacrilege mingling with slaughter.
It has been said that in the New Testament doctrine is grace, and ethics is gratitude; and something is wrong with any form of Christianity in which, experimentally and practically, this saying is not being verified. Those who suppose that the doctrine of God’s grace tends to encourage moral laxity (“final salvation is certain anyway, no matter what we do; therefore our conduct doesn’t matter”) are simply showing that, in the most literal sense, they do not know what they are talking about. For love awakens love in return; and love, once awakened, desires to give pleasure. And the revealed will of God is that those who have received grace should henceforth give themselves to “good works” (Eph 2:10; Tit 2:11-12); and gratitude will move anyone who has truly received grace to do as God requires, and daily to cry out thus:
As I’ve already said, I don’t think I have answers for all my intellectual questions about suffering and pain. I guess I could write another book on all the stuff I don’t know about suffering. But what I learnt as an 18-year-old, as I was wondering what God understood of my loss, has changed my perspective forever. In the great work of art we call the universe, I cannot always follow the hand of the Artist: some of his work just eludes me. But what the biblical narrative tells me—and, in particular, the account of Christ’s passion—is that while I may not be able to trace the Artist’s hand at all times, I can always trust his motives. The God who is in control of all things, who acts behind the scenes in all things, is also the God who willingly suffers. He is the one I can shout at, cry with and find comfort in. His heart, if not all his ways, is clear to me because on the cross he wore it on his sleeve for all to see. This God is able to sympathise with those who suffer not simply because he is `all-knowing’—an attribute ascribed to any version of divinity—but because he has experienced pain firsthand. . . .Having said this, God’s wounds speak to more than just our wounds, they address something even more fundamental. . . Christ’s death is more than an identification with us. The Bible makes clear it is a substitution for us. 
ROMANS 3:21-31 “But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law… the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe”.
“Preach the cross” (as in Gal 3:1) is to preach salvation by God’s grace alone. Such a message is a stumbling block (1 Cor 1:23) because it is grievously offensive to human pride; it therefore exposes us to persecution.
