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.
When this incident is brought up to Jesus for his comment, he launches out in a direction that must have astonished his interlocutors. Perhaps some expected him to denounce Pilate; perhaps others wanted him to comment on the Zealot movement; a few may have hoped he would offer a few waggish denunciations about these rebels getting what they deserved. Jesus opts for none of those paths. “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (13:2–3).
The point he was making might well been lost in the political sensitivities of this tragedy, so Jesus promptly refers to another disaster, this one stripped of Galileans, Pilate, the temple, sacrifices, and mingled blood. Eighteen people died when a tower collapsed. Jesus insists that they were no more wicked than anyone else in Jerusalem. Rather, the same lesson is to be learned: “unless you repent, you too will all perish” (13:5).
Jesus’ surprising analysis makes sense only if three things are true: (a) All of us deserve to perish. If we are spared, that is an act of grace. What should surprise us is that so many of us are spared so long. (b) Death comes to all of us. Our world often argues that the worst disaster is for someone to die young. Not so. The real disaster is that we all stand under this sentence of death, and we all die. The age at which we die is only relatively better or worse. (c) Death has the last word for all of us—unless we repent, which alone leads us beyond death to the life of the consummated kingdom.
Have you heard of the millions massacred under Pol Pot? Have you heard of the savage butchery in southern Sudan? Have you seen the massed graves in Bosnia? Or the pictures of the Florida swamp where Valujet Flight 592 crashed? I tell you the truth: unless you repent, you too will all perish.
Carson, D. A. (1998). For the love of God : A daily companion for discovering the riches of God’s Word. Volume 1. Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway Books.
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:
Oh! to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be; Let that grace now, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee! Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it; Prone to leave the God I love—
Take my heart, oh, take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above!
Do you claim to know the love and grace of God in your own life? Prove your claim, then, by going and praying likewise.
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.On the cross God not only stands alongside us, he stands in our place. Here we arrive at perhaps the most liberating dimension of biblical faith: in that god-forsaken moment on the cross Jesus bore the god-forsakenness I deserve for rejecting my Maker and mistreating my neighbour, or in biblical shorthand, for my ’sin’. Jesus’ death, therefore, is God’s invitation to experience not just his comfort but his mercy as well.
From If I Were God, I’d End All the Painby John Dickson
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”.
Lutheran theology is well-known for the sharp antithesis it draws between law and gospel. This finds its root to some degree in the teaching of Luther who emphasized what is often called the “pedagogical” use of the Mosaic law, its use as a schoolmaster to accuse us of sin that we might look to Jesus to save us. Christians in the Reformed tradition typically see more continuity between the covenants, but this use of the Law is biblical and a major part of the Reformed heritage.
Often this use is based on Galatians 3:19-29. This use of the Law can certainly be derived from this passage, although it is more of a secondary application when it comes to the Law’s use among Gentiles, since the apostle is talking chiefly about Israel’s experience with the oracles of God. Perhaps a better place to go are the first few chapters of Romans wherein Paul discusses the role of natural law in condemning Gentiles alongside Jews who face the same condemnation at the hands of the Mosaic law (1:18-3:20). In any case, the Lord’s commandments serve both to make the non-Christian aware of his sin that he might trust in Jesus and to convict the Christian of his remaining sin that he might return to the cross repeatedly for cleansing, reaffirming his utter inability to save himself. That such a use of the old covenant law is defensible is found in Paul’s statement in Romans 3:21-31 that the only way the sinner convicted by God’s law can be justified is through the imputation of the righteousness of Christ. Consequently, the proclamation of God’s law should be a regular part of the preaching, for by hearing the Law the believer will be reminded of his need for the gospel, and any non-Christian present for the sermon will learn that he is under the righteous judgment of the Creator and must therefore trust in Jesus.
But God’s law must never be preached apart from the gospel. If this is done, we end up reducing Christianity to moralism, giving the message that people can by their own efforts do the right thing. We must never forget that the grace of God sets us free to love and serve him (Gal. 5:1), and so this grace must always be preached as well. Without the gospel, the Law is an impossible burden.
Our relativistic age does not like to hear that there is an eternal, unchangeable law that convicts all people. But the central message of the gospel is that we have broken this law and need to be reconciled to God, the great Lawgiver. If we do not know His law, however, we cannot tell people the bad news that they are estranged from God, and if we cannot preach the bad news, how can we preach the good news of salvation?
“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.
To preach salvation by good works is to flatter people and so avoid opposition. To preach salvation by grace is to offend people and so invite opposition. This may seem to some to pose the alternative too starkly. But I do not think so. All Christian preachers have to face this issue. Either we preach that human beings are rebels against God, under his just judgment and (if left to themselves) lost, and that Christ crucified who bore their sin and curse is the only available Savior. Or we emphasize human potential and human ability, with Christ brought in only to boost them, and with no necessity for the cross except to exhibit God’s love and so inspire us to greater endeavor.
The former is the way to be faithful, the latter the way to be popular. It is not possible to be faithful and popular simultaneously. We need to hear again the warning of Jesus: “Woe to you when all men speak well of you” (Lk 6:26). By contrast, if we preach the cross, we may find that we are ourselves hounded to the cross.
And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— 3 among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the bodyand the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. 4 ButGod, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, 5 even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— 6 and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, 7 so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. 8 For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, 9 not a result of works, so that no one may boast. 10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.
ESV study notes: Just when things look the most desolate, Paul utters the greatest short phrase in the history of human speech: “But God!”
My Lord, I want desperately to come away, but I am held among the thorns and cannot escape from them as I wish. I would, if it were possible, close my eyes and ears and heart to sin. You call me to Yourself by saying, “Come away,” and this is indeed a melodious call. To come to You is to come home from exile, to reach the shore out of the raging storm, to finally rest after hard labor, to reach the goal of my desires and the summit of my wishes. But, Lord, how can a stone rise; how can a lump of clay come away from the horrible pit? Please raise me; draw me by Your grace. Send Your Holy Spirit to kindle sacred flames of love in my heart, and I will continue to rise until one day I will leave life and time behind me and come away indeed.
He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added affliction He addeth His mercy;
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.
When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.
Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.
His love has no limit; His grace has no measure.
His pow’r has no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!
From Renewing your mind with Dr. R.C. Sproul Regional Conference Q and A 2008
God’s grace is distributed according to His sovereignty
Man in has fallen condition does have the power to make choices, however, humans do not have an indifferent will – the bible says our wills are in bondage to sin
Romans 4:16 That is why it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and l be guaranteed to all his offspring—not only to the adherent of the law but also to the one who shares the faith of Abraham, who is the father of us all, “That is why” points to the special relationship between faith and grace: Faith means trusting in another, not in one’s own efforts. Faith therefore corresponds exactly to grace, which involves trusting God’s gift of unmerited favor. The adherent of the law refers to the Jewish believer in Christ.
Justification does not include our actions, only the work of Christ
It is all in what Christ has done
It is faith alone which saves, but the faith which save is not alone because the faith is accompanied by actions, but those actions do not contribute to our acceptance to God
Undeserved acceptance and love received from another
Although the biblical words for”grace” are used in a variety of ways, the most characteristic us is to refer to an undeserved favor granted by a superior to an inferior
When used of divine grace toward mankind, it refers to the undeserved favor of God in providing salvation for those deserving condemnation
In the more specific Christian sense it speaks of the saving activity of God which is manifested in the gift of His Son to die in the place of sinners
“Ultimately what sent Christ there (to the cross) was neither the greed of Judas, nor the envy of the priests, nor the vacillating cowardice of Pilate, but our own greed, envy, cowardice, and other sins, and Christ’s resolve in love and mercy to beat their judgement and so put them away.”
Grace = love to the undeserving
Pg 86
Christ purchased our salvation with His own blood
There is nothing more we can contribute
We must only fall before the cross, confess our sin, and thank him
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.