What kind of salvation did we get?

So what did Jesus do to secure our salvation?

If you answer, “He died on the cross,” I would say that I think you’re maybe about one-fifth right.

Jesus died a sacrificial death. He took the penalty for my sins, changing my destination when I look to Him in faith. This is the part that even the smallest child in a Christian family can repeat.  But in order for me to live a life of complete salvation, I would say that four other accomplishments are equally crucial.

Jesus lived a sinless life. That means He kept ALL the Law completely for me. When I am in Him, I no longer need to look to law-keeping (or even principle-following) to live a Christian life that is pleasing to God. Instead, in faith I look to Christ.

He rose from the dead. Not only to gain victory over death for Himself at that time, which is what we all know. But just as crucial, to gain victory over the night of the living dead for me, here and now. To insure my own resurrection in Him today, so that when I look to Him in faith, I will walk in newness of life by the power of His Spirit in me, right here on this earth.

He ascended back to heaven. Though some branches of Christianity celebrate Ascension Sunday, in the evangelical churches His victorious ascension seems to get far less press than it deserves. Jesus wasn’t just going back where He came from in order to get home. He was ascending the flight of stairs, as it were, like a Crown Prince, in order to receive His crown and His rightful place as King. And when He ascended on high, as Ephesians 4:8 tells us, He led captivity captive—the sin and death that He conquered in more than just theory—and gave gifts unto those that look to Him in faith, the greatest of which was the Holy Spirit, Christ in us.

He sat down at the right hand of God the Father. This was more than just because He was all done with His job. It was because He was reigning. How well I remember studying Hebrews and thinking, “Why in the world does the author keep talking about Jesus sitting down? This must be important.” It was probably years before I finally understood that the sitting down Jesus did is the same as the sitting down I have by faith done in Ephesians 2:6, in the heavenly places. Is that only theoretical Christianity? Does it have no practical application in my life now?

Understanding these truths—I would even say believing these truths—makes a powerful difference, moment by moment, in my life on this earth. Not only is my destination changed. But my desires, my delights, my duties, my direction, my determinations, my day to day.

“You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you” (Romans 8:9). A powerful truth to help those spirit-oriented New Year’s Resolutions be accomplished through something beyond teeth-gritting dogged will power.

But rather, through the Spirit-empowered life of Resurrection in Christ.

“Pronoun Trouble” in Galatians 5:16-17

One of the most important principles of Biblical interpretation that I ever learned had to do with pronoun trouble. (If you right-click that link and start watching at second :25, you’ll see what I mean.)

The way I had learned, by osmosis and example, was: “If a passage of Scripture has a pronoun in it (you or I or he or we or pretty much any of them), then you can and even should apply it to yourself.” Unless of course it’s ludicrous to do it, like that holy kiss stuff.

But one day when I was researching something unrelated, I stumbled across an explanation that seems obvious now, but was revolutionary to me at the time. The writer said, essentially, “The pronouns in Scripture refer to certain people of that time. They may or may not refer to us.” For example, when Paul says “we,” he’s referring to himself and maybe Timothy or maybe the people he’s writing to or maybe the Jewish nation or maybe someone else. Is he talking about me? Well, maybe and maybe not. That takes prayerful Holy Spirit discernment to figure out, in the context of the writing.

What about when Paul says “you,” like, say . . . in Galatians 5:16-17? “The flesh lusts against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh, and these things are contrary to one another, so that you cannot do what you wish.”

He is definitely referring to the Galatians, because that’s who he’s writing to. But is he referring to all Christians? This is the way I’ve always heard it presented.

But oh really? Is he also referring to all Christians in chapter 3 when he says, “Who has bewitched you, that you should not obey the truth?”  It’s the same “you,” isn’t it? But I’ve never heard this passage applied to all Christians. Probably because it’s preceded by “foolish Galatians.” However, the context of Galatians makes it clear that the “foolish Galatians” are also the “you” of chapter 5 verse 16-17.

If Paul’s original recipients are no longer living, though, that doesn’t mean there aren’t any “foolish Galatians” in the world today. Anybody who fits the shoe he describes in this epistle should wear it. Is there a Christian who, after coming to Christ initially by faith alone, is now trying to live by the efforts of the flesh? Is there a Christian who is going back to the Old Testament Law after the Law has been completely fulfilled in Christ? Then he is a foolish Galatian, and he had better take heed to the prophecy of inevitable warring of the flesh and the spirit that will inevitably result in failure.

Do all Christians live continuously in this realm of constant defeat? No. Some, like Paul, have by the power of the Resurrection found their way out of Romans 7 into Romans 8. Some, as he states in Galatians 5:18, are not under the Law, because they are led by the Spirit. Some have seen Jesus Christ as the Complete Fulfilment of their Complete Righteousness, and have found freedom and joy in this complete salvation. For them, the works of the flesh will not be made evident, as Galatians 5:19 says they were for those people.

Instead, life will be more like II Corinthians 2:14: “Thanks to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumph, and by us makes evident everywhere the aroma of His knowledge.”

So who’s the “us” in that verse? Is it all Christians? What do you think?

The magnifying glass of God

Recently my publisher asked me to contribute to a book to be published in 2011 with a theme of “What the Bible means to me.” (Update: You can see the cover here.) This is what I wrote:

“One of the great reasons that so many Christians never come out of the Old Covenant, never even know that they are in it, and have to come out of it, is that there is so much head knowledge, without the power of the Spirit in the heart being waited for.” ~Andrew Murray, The Believer’s New Covenant

I was studying through the Psalms, taking copious notes. If this was God’s message to me, then you’d better believe that with all the determination I could muster, I was going to understand it. I wanted the Word of God to be my greatest delight. So I kept getting up early and studying, studying. Learning, learning. And even glad to be learning.

Honestly, though, it never even crossed my mind to ask God to open my understanding. He had given me a brain, and that’s what I was using. After all, didn’t somebody say that I shouldn’t ask God to do for me what He had already given me the ability to do for myself?

Then I came to Psalm 22, the one all about Jesus dying on the cross. And the sad fact is that I wasn’t interested in studying it. I knew why. I knew exactly why. It was because it wasn’t about me. Almost every other psalm so far had been, in my mind, about me. But I knew this one was important, and I knew it wasn’t about me, and I knew that I wasn’t excited about reading it.

I wrote in the margin of my wide-margin Bible, “12-2-1993: I’m struggling with the fact that I don’t appreciate a psalm as much when it’s about Jesus instead of me, and what selfishness and immaturity that reveals. Now I’m faced with a psalm that can’t possibly be appreciated properly unless it’s applied to Jesus. God, grant me the grace to rejoice in Your holy Word!”

To look at it now, it seems ridiculous not to appreciate a passage about Jesus. But this was one of the first times in my life—if not the first time—that I actually asked God to open my understanding.

And I almost tremble to recall the results. Psalm 22 opened to me like Aladdin’s cave. I came to tears again and again at the beauty and grace and outpouring of love I saw in my Savior. Beyond seeing Him as simply my great Example (that’s how I kept referring to Him in the first few days of my study), I began to see Him more clearly as the ultimate Sacrifice, His sweat poured out, His blood poured out. As the ultimate Victor, singing the praise of God in the great congregation. As the ultimate Feast of His meek ones, the all-satisfying Living Bread. As the Great Accomplisher of the greatest Work. It is Finished.

This experience marked a turning point in my Christian life.

Through the years, I had thought of the Bible in a number of different metaphorical terms. A friend told me that too many Christians read it as if they’re looking for a Daily Vitamin Pill. When I began reading for actual understanding, I thought of it as my Map from God, giving directions to Him. I thought of it as my greatest Treasure.

But this experience with Psalm 22 began the process of removing the written Word from my heart’s pedestal and placing the Living Word there instead. Though it was years before I began to consistently cry out for the opening of my understanding every time I opened the Word, I began more and more to see the Bible as my great Magnifying Glass.

May my heart ever resound with unending praise to the Savior, the one to whom this Magnifying Glass points like a laser beam, the one who alone is worthy of all blessing and honor and praise and glory and power.

Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His Name together!