Grace
Nicolas Simon
Table of Contents
Abounding Grace
In Paul’s epistle to the Romans, the Apostle first considers justification from our offences. Grace has delivered me from the penalty of my sins, but what about my sin nature? We have a nature with a will contrary to the will of God. At the twelfth verse of the fifth chapter the subject changes, and Paul takes up this all-important question.
We are born with a sin nature as members of Adam’s race; it is called the flesh. Adam’s disobedience, and the resulting entrance of sin into the world, was devastating. It not only affected man but the “Whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now” (Rom. 8:22). Death has reigned because of one man’s disobedience. “By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin” (Rom. 5:12). Death characterizes the flesh; it is not the consequence of a transgressed law—death existed without law. The law confirmed man’s condition. It convicted; it did not win back to God. It made every action of sin a positive offence. “For until the law sin was in the world: but sin is not imputed when there is no law” (Rom. 5:13). “Sin, that it might appear sin, working death to me by that which is good; in order that sin by the commandment might become exceeding sinful” (Rom. 7:13 JnD).
The devastating effects of Adam’s disobedience can only be undone through grace—the sovereign, divine intervention of God in love. One man’s sin brought death, but now one Man’s death (Christ) has brought life. “For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of One shall many be made righteous” (Rom. 5:19). Law demands from man; grace, on the other hand, flows out from God—furthermore, it is an abounding grace, overabounding the effects of sin. “The gift by grace, which is by one man, Jesus Christ, hath abounded unto many” (Rom. 5:15). Its efficacy, as to man, is limited to those who will receive it. “If by one man's offence death reigned by one; much more they which receive abundance of grace and of the gift of righteousness shall reign in life by One, Jesus Christ” (Rom. 5:17).
The law judged and condemned without remedy. It sets me in jail and throws away the key. “For as many as are of the works of the law are under the curse” (Gal. 3:10). There is no remedy for my sin nature—there is no cure. Death is its due, and this is where law, in effect, places me (Gal. 2:19). I died under it; once dead, law has nothing more to say to me. We cannot kill the jailer (the law)—we are the ones who must die. As a Christian, what is my life now? It is that life I have in Christ. “I, through law, have died to law, that I may live to God. I am crucified with Christ, and no longer live, I, but Christ lives in me” (Gal. 2:19 JND). The death sentenced to me in my conscience has fallen on another—Christ. But He now lives, and I live through Him. By grace I am united to Christ. In figure I learn that the death and resurrection of Christ was for me. If He died, I died. If He is risen, I am risen. I must accept death, as the judgment of God upon man. It is an altogether different life, not a renewal of the old life I had in Adam. This is the justification of life, and this is what grace has accomplished in me (Rom. 5:18). The law condemned and led only to death. Grace justifies and brings life. “The law entered, that the offence might abound. But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound: that as sin hath reigned unto death, even so might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Rom. 5:20). Grace super-abounds, rising over all and magnifying God. Grace now reigns through righteousness—God’s righteousness is preserved intact, without compromise.
It is essential to recognize that grace does not reconcile God to man, and certainly not God to sin—we are the ones that must be reconciled to God. Peace is made through the blood of the cross; it forms the basis of reconciliation. Creation—things on earth and in heaven—will ultimately be reconciled to God; they await God’s coming in power (Col. 1:20; Rom. 8:19). They were not subjected to vanity as a result of their own will (Rom. 8:20). Infernal beings (things under the earth), although they must bow to the name of Jesus (Phil. 2:10), will never be reconciled. As for guilty man, “If, being enemies, we have been reconciled to God through the death of His Son, much rather, having been reconciled, we shall be saved in the power of His life” (Rom. 5:10). We are reconciled through the death of Christ; God views us as dead in Christ. The life we now possess is that same resurrection life found in Christ. It is true that grace picked us up when we were enemies, but, through death, we are taken entirely out of our former position and presented before God in Christ, holy, unblameable, and irreproachable. “You, that were sometime alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now hath He reconciled in the body of His flesh through death, to present you holy and unblameable and unreproveable in His sight” (Col. 1:21-22 JnD). The Father has “made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light” (Col. 1:12). The prodigal was not fit to go in until he had the best robe on. But reconciliation goes further; we have a new mindset, and we enjoy a present reconciliation in the perfect love of the Father.
Closing Remarks
The Lord Jesus was condemned for meeting the needs of the poor, sick, and outcasts. The scribes and Pharisees found fault with Him for eating with publicans and sinners, and for healing on the Sabbath (Mark 2-3). Grace that blesses the sinner is offensive to religious pride. Consider Jonah—he made himself a little booth (Jonah 4:5) so that he might sit and observe the fruits of his preaching, the destruction of Nineveh! God had other plans; the people of Nineveh had repented—marvelous grace (Jonah 3). The kingdom of God had come in the person of Christ; its power could not be constrained. “No man also seweth a piece of new cloth on an old garment: else the new piece that filled it up taketh away from the old, and the rent is made worse. And no man putteth new wine into old bottles: else the new wine doth burst the bottles, and the wine is spilled, and the bottles will be marred: but new wine must be put into new bottles” (Mark 2:21-22). The first saying shows that grace cannot be attached to law; they are separate and distinct principles. A union will not work without one destroying the other. The old garment must be discarded altogether. The second shows that grace is expansive and cannot be contained by law. We have an example in the story of the Syrophoenician woman. She first approached the Lord on the basis of God’s covenant relationship with Israel: “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Thou Son of David” (Matt. 15:22). But this would never do; she was shutout from the commonwealth of Israel. When she comes without warrant, as the little dog under the table, then the out-pouring of grace must reach even this woman of Canaan: “O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt” (Matt. 15:28). When our thoughts begin with self, our hearts are going to be constrained. “Master, we saw one casting out devils in Thy name; and we forbad him, because he followeth not with us” (Luke 9:49). Religious pride is not limited to the Jew. We all too easily fall into the trap of self-satisfaction. In the presence of God there is no room for self at all, and it is only there that we will find the divine source of all grace and blessing. “God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work” (2 Cor. 9:8).
All will ultimately prove to be “To the praise of the glory of His grace, wherein He hath made us accepted in the Beloved” (Eph. 1:6). The excellencies of God’s grace will be on full display in the church. It is notable that the word accepted (χαριτοω) has the same root as grace and means highly favored. One feels his inadequacy in presenting this subject. There is much left for personal meditation—the one who takes this up will be richly rewarded.
Grace taught our wandering feet
To tread the heavenly road;
And new supplies each hour we meet
While traveling home to God.
’Twas grace that wrote each name
In God's eternal book;
'Twas grace that gave us to the Lamb,
Who all our burdens took.
Grace saved us from the foe,
Grace taught us how to pray;
And God will ne'er His grace forego,
Till we have won the day.
May grace, free grace, inspire
Our souls with strength divine;
May every thought to God aspire,
And grace in service shine.
Grace all the work shall crown
Through everlasting days;
It lays in heaven the topmost stone,
And well deserves the praise.
The God of all Grace
“The God of all grace, who hath called us unto His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you” (1 Pet. 5:10). Peter, in both of his epistles, addresses the believers among the Jewish diaspora (1 Pet. 1:1; 2 Pet. 3:1). Christians of the time experienced persecution from both Jew and Gentile, with some of the fiercest opposition (especially for the Christian Jew) coming from the former. Paul, writing to the Thessalonians, says: “Ye, brethren, became followers of the churches of God which in Judaea are in Christ Jesus: for ye also have suffered like things of your own countrymen, even as they have of the Jews: Who both killed the Lord Jesus, and their own prophets, and have persecuted us; and they please not God, and are contrary to all men” (1 Thess. 2:14-15). Those epistles which specifically address Jewish believers—Hebrews, Peter, and James—all touch on the subject of trials. This was a difficult thing for a saved Jew to understand. They understood earthly blessing to be a sign of God’s approbation, whereas suffering signaled His disapproval. Certainly, as a nation, they had experienced the chastening hand of Jehovah many times—drought, conflict, division, captivity, and subjugation. For a Christian, however, whether from among the Jew or Gentile, earthly blessing is not our hope; we have no promised land here. We have a better hope and a heavenly one (Heb. 10:34; 11:16). Suffering is our present lot (Rom. 8:18). “All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution” (2 Tim. 3:12; see also John 15:19-20, etc.).
God has not, however, left us without resource. The activity of God’s grace does not end with salvation. It is our privilege to come “boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16). There we find a sympathetic High Priest—a high priest like no descendant of Aaron ever was or ever could be. “For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). The Man, Jesus, experienced the wilderness with its depravations and trials (Matt. 4:1-11; etc.). There is not a trial or difficulty that Christ has not passed through before me and found His resources in God the Father. He will supply the needed grace to my heart. Many, no doubt, will recall the penultimate verse of Revelation: “Yea, I come quickly. Amen; come, Lord Jesus” (Rev. 22:20 JND). To escape this scene of confusion and creature complaints will surely be a mercy—the sooner the better! Indeed, Jude presents the rapture in this way: “Awaiting the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life” (Jude 21). But do we remember the final verse of Revelation? “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with all the saints” (Rev. 22:21). His supply of grace will sustain us throughout life’s dreary plain until the very end.
It is quite wrong to suppose that only the weak and helpless need grace, or that it is just for a time of trouble. It is when we are strong that we are in the greatest danger, for it is then that the enemy’s darts find the chinks in the armor. Our own strength will always prove to be our greatest weakness; and in our greatest weakness, God’s grace will manifest its greatest power. “My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore, I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong” (2 Cor. 12:9-10).
In his second letter to Timothy, the Apostle Paul encourages a faithful, yet disheartened servant of God. He speaks of tears, of rekindling the gift of God, a spirit of cowardice, of not being ashamed, enduring hardness—not that all these characterized Timothy; nevertheless, there was that danger. Discouragement has ever been the bane of the saint of God—consider Elijah, David, or Hezekiah. When things do not turn out as we hope, or when we stumble in our own strength, the door is opened for discouragement to set in. What is the remedy? “Thou, therefore, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus” (2 Tim. 2:1). We do not have strength within ourselves; we should never be surprised when we discover (or rediscover) this truth. This is the very state where the grace of God is unhindered to act. Grace cannot be stored up—this would only lead to independence from God. We must avail ourselves of it daily. Just as the children of Israel had to collect the manna fresh each morning, so do we. Returning to the verse that we began with, “The God of all grace” (1 Pet. 5:10), we note that Peter’s epistle is a wilderness epistle—our inheritance remains a future thing (1 Pet. 1:4). God sustained Israel in the wilderness, and He will also sustain us (Deut. 8:2-4).
Grace and Truth
The giving of the law was a remarkable thing. It was a direct word from God, through Moses, to His people. God’s word was no longer hidden. “This commandment which I command thee this day, it is not hidden from thee, neither is it far off” (Deut. 30:11). There was a majesty and glory connected with the law. That being said, it proved, for poor sinful man, a ministration of death. “The ministration of death, written and engraven in stones, was glorious” (2 Cor. 3:7). Although there was a promise of life and blessing, there was also a curse if one did not continue in it (Gal. 3:10). We cannot have one without the other—the blessing while dismissing the curse. “The commandment, which was ordained to life, I found to be unto death” (Rom. 7:10). When we come to the New Testament, however, we find something far superior in glory. “If the ministration of condemnation be glory, much more doth the ministration of righteousness exceed in glory” (2 Cor. 3:9).
The expression ten commandments (which occurs just three times in the word of God) could be translated literally as ten words—it uses the Hebrew דברים (devarim), meaning words. When we come to the New Testament, however, we read: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1). Word is here the Greek λογος—logos. This was a term familiar to the Greek philosophers. It was, for them, the reason pervading and underlying the universe. In Christianity, the Word, the Logos, is elevated to something even higher; something that transcends the reason of man. The Word is a distinct person of the Godhead, eternal and divine. It is the very expression of the Godhead. John takes us further and writes: “The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). That the Logos, who uttered the universe into existence, and now upholds it by the word of His power (John 1:3; Heb. 1:3), should become flesh is incomprehensible. The eternal and divine One becoming human, born of a woman, made flesh—this is beyond astonishing. And if that were not enough, John adds: “Of His fulness we all have received, and grace upon grace” (John 1:16). Grace upon grace in overflowing abundance.
“The law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ” (John 1:17). The law demanded righteousness from man. Grace and truth, on the other hand, make known God. Grace is what God is towards man—His activity of love in the midst of evil. Whereas truth tells us what God and man are. If the verse had simply said “truth came by Jesus Christ”—and indeed, Jesus could say, “I am ... the truth” (John 14:6)—it would have been over for man. The truth would have condemned without remedy. Also, it is grace and truth and not truth and grace. Grace enables souls to receive the truth and to bear it, although, as sinners, we are judged by it. Grace and truth are intimately connected with the Son coming in flesh and the revelation of the Father. Grace and truth came into the world in the person of the Son. In the Son we have a full revelation of the Father (Matt. 11:27). The law revealed aspects of God’s nature, and the things it foreshadowed we can now reflect upon with delight; but it was not a revelation of God. The righteousness that the law looked for in man, but did not find, Christ displayed in His life; in His death we have something more—the righteousness of God manifested through grace.
Grace in the Old Testament
For many—sadly, for both saint and sinner alike—the God of the Old Testament is perceived to be a harsh, exacting God with whom is no grace. The natural feeling of our hearts is “I feared thee, because Thou art an austere man” (Luke 19:21). We know little of the heart of God. “How often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!” (Matt. 23:37). God’s ways with man have always involved grace—indeed, if it were not so, mankind must have been destroyed long ago. God provided Adam and Eve with a covering in the garden of Eden (Gen. 3:21). Man’s attempt to cover his shame was wholly inadequate (Gen. 3:7). God’s covering came at a cost—the shed blood of an animal. Grace does not diminish the significance of sin—in fact, quite to the contrary. This is something we will see throughout this brief study on grace. The seed of the woman, God’s promise to Satan, has given hope to faith throughout man’s sad history—and it will do so until the very end; it is the everlasting gospel (Rev. 14:6). “I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise His heel” (Gen. 3:15). Abel’s burnt offering from the firstlings of the flock was God’s provision in grace. On the other hand, it is man who rejects the grace of God and seeks acceptance based on his own merits. Cain’s offering was costly—he labored to bring the fruit of the earth to God. Cain supposed that he could produce something pleasing to God through the sweat of his face—the very consequence of Adam’s sin. The earth had been cursed, and yet it was by the fruit of that very ground that Cain sought acceptance before a Holy God (Gen. 3:17). How quickly man forgets sin and tries to make something respectable of his circumstances.
It was grace which bore Israel on eagles’ wings, delivering them from the bondage of Egypt, and bringing them through the Red Sea (Exod. 19:4). It was grace that met their thirst and provided food for them in the wilderness (Exod. 15:24-27; Exod. 16). From Egypt until Sinai, God’s ways with Israel were pure grace. Did Israel merit such favor? No, God acted in faithfulness to His own promises that He had made to the patriarchs. “The Lord did not set His love upon you, nor choose you, because ye were more in number than any people; for ye were the fewest of all peoples; but because Jehovah loved you, and because He would keep the oath which He had sworn unto your fathers, hath Jehovah brought you out with a powerful hand, and redeemed you out of the house of bondage, from the hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt” (Deut. 7:7-8). In the book of Ezekiel, we read: “When I passed by thee, and saw thee polluted in thine own blood, I said unto thee when thou wast in thy blood, Live” (Ezek. 16:5-9). The Apostle Paul reminds Israel that theirs was a sovereign election, not based on works: “For the children being not yet born, neither having done any good or evil, that the purpose of God according to election might stand, not of works, but of Him that calleth” (Rom. 9:11).
At Sinai, however, everything changed—not with God, but as to His ordered relationship with His people. “If ye will obey My voice indeed, and keep My covenant, then ye shall be a peculiar treasure unto Me above all people: ... And all the people answered together, and said, All that the Lord hath spoken we will do. And Moses returned the words of the people unto the Lord. And the Lord said unto Moses, Lo, I come unto thee in a thick cloud” (Exod. 19:5,8-9). Jehovah now takes up with Israel on the principle of law. The law is holy, just, and good (Rom. 7:12); it represents righteous conduct in an earthly people. God sought righteousness in man and Israel readily responded: “All that the Lord hath spoken we will do.” They, and we also, must learn our utter depravity. Mankind, like Cain, thinks that he can produce something acceptable to God. Israel’s inability to keep the law was not a failure on the part of the law, but, rather, of the flesh—that sin nature within each one of us. The law probes the heart of man and shows him incapable of meeting God’s holy and righteous standard. “I had not known sin, but by the law: for I had not known lust, except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet ... The commandment, which was ordained to life, I found to be unto death.” (Rom. 7:7,10). This singling out of the tenth commandment is deliberate. An unregenerate man recognizes murder, adultery, and even theft, as evil, but tell him he must not covet, and it touches who he is—his very nature.
Even after Sinai, God did not deal with Israel according to pure law. The first two tablets of testimony were broken, else Israel must have been destroyed (Ex. 32:9-19). When Moses appeared before Jehovah the second time, God’s name is proclaimed: “Jehovah God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy unto thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but by no means clearing the guilty” (Exod. 34:6-7). The covenant was reestablished upon the mediation of Moses and this revelation of Jehovah God. Furthermore, the new tablets, with the ten commandments engraved upon them, were placed within the Ark of the Covenant, and there they lay beneath the mercy seat (Deut. 10:2). God did not overlook Israel’s sin, but there was a refuge for faith. The blood on the mercy seat (Lev. 16:14-15), a prefiguring of the shed blood of Christ, allowed God to extend mercy to Israel. “Whom God has set forth a mercy-seat, through faith in His blood, for the shewing forth of His righteousness, in respect of the passing by the sins that had taken place before, through the forbearance of God” (Rom. 3:25 JND). That simple wooden box, overlayed with gold and sprinkled with blood, is a vivid picture to us of Christ. He alone met the holy and righteous requirements of the law, manifesting divine righteousness in all that He did, and that never more so than at the cross.
Outwardly, the children of Israel were a sanctified people, but they were not in a condition to stand before a Holy God. Sinai was “all aglow with fire”; it was a place of “obscurity and gloom and tempest” (Heb. 12:18 WK); the terrors of God’s majesty kept Israel at a distance. The sacrifices provided a covering but did not make the offerer perfect (Heb. 10:1). The blood on the mercy seat allowed God to dwell among His people; nevertheless, only the high priest could go beyond the veil into the most holy place where the ark stood. Furthermore, that access was limited to once a year, and it was “not without blood, which he offered for himself, and for the errors of the people” (Heb. 9:7). Everything was anticipatory and looked forward to the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ. They were “a shadow of things to come; but the body [substance] is of Christ” (Col. 2:17). The God of the Old Testament was, by and large, hidden, and what revelation He made of Himself was necessarily incomplete. God’s display of glory before Moses illustrates this: “The Lord said, Behold, there is a place by Me, and thou shalt stand upon a rock: And it shall come to pass, while My glory passeth by, that I will put thee in a clift of the rock, and will cover thee with My hand while I pass by: And I will take away Mine hand, and thou shalt see My back parts: but My face shall not be seen” (Exod. 33:21-23 JnD). A full revelation had to wait for the coming of the Son of God. Such a revelation necessitated Christ’s work at Calvary. Without it, we never could have received the revelation, let alone stand before it. The way into the holiest has now been made open, and we have boldness to enter through the blood of Jesus (Heb. 10:19). The veil of the temple being rent from top to bottom, I see the holiness of God: but the very stroke which has thus unveiled the holiness of God has put away the sin that would have hindered my standing in the presence of that holiness.
God’s principle of blessing has always been connected with promise, grace, and faith. “The just shall live by his faith” (Hab. 2:4) was as true in the Old Testament as it is in the New. It could not have been said, however, that grace reigned (Rom. 5:21). It is essential to recognize that God’s dealings with His people in the Old Testament differ substantively from what we find in the New. God took up Israel on the principle of law; He now takes up His people on the principle of grace. The cross of Christ is the great dividing point. There “Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other” (Psa. 85:10). These aren’t opposing principles; they are divine virtues. In the cross we see them resolved, working together like two perfectly engineered and precisely meshed gears. Israel never enjoyed the privileges that are now ours in Christ. It is a serious error, therefore, to suppose that the church has been taken up on the same ground as Israel, albeit enhanced.
The law was brought in until Christ (Gal. 3:24). Christ is now “the end of the law for righteousness to everyone that believeth” (Rom. 10:4). The law does not bring us to Christ, as the King James translation suggests—the law doesn't do anything; it demands from man supposing that the power to do is present with him. The law, instead of manifesting righteousness with man, put sin to his account (Rom. 5:13). It didn’t make man a sinner; he was that before law ever appeared (death is the proof of it), but law made him a transgressor. I may drive down the road going well over the speed limit, but without any indication of that limit my conscience may be clear. To be sure, I am speeding—my ignorance doesn’t change that. However, once a speed-sign comes into view my guilt is established and I am without excuse. The law tested a chosen people under ideal circumstances and proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that righteousness was not to be found with them (Rom. 3:10). The law showed man to be hopelessly guilty. “We know that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them who are under the law: that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God” (Rom. 3:19). The Apostle Paul, in the first three chapters of his Epistle to the Romans, sets both Gentile and Jew in the court of God. After cross-examination the verdict is declared: “There is none righteous, no, not one: There is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God. They are all gone out of the way, they are together become unprofitable; there is none that doeth good, no, not one.” (Rom. 3:10-12).
Grace Teaches
“Hereby perceive we the love of God, because He laid down His life for us: and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren” (1 John 3:16). The law did not require this of Christ, rather, the law said: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself” (Lev. 19:18; Matt. 22:39; etc.). This is quite a different thing. Many teach that our justification rests upon Christ’s obedience to the law; thankfully it does not. The law knows nothing of the love that led our Savior to the cross. There has been no greater display of love, acting in the midst of evil, than at the cross. This is grace and this is our example. Jesus laid down His life for us and we are to follow in His footsteps.
Paul sent Titus to the Isle of Crete to put the things in order that were lacking. The Cretians had a reputation of being “liars, evil wild beasts, lazy gluttons” (Titus 1:12 JnD). This was quite the indictment! The Christian, however, was not to appear so before the world. God gave the dearest object of His love, His only begotten Son, and delivered Him up for us all so that we might be saved. For His part, the Lord Jesus Christ “gave Himself for our sins, that He might deliver us from this present evil world, according to the will of God and our Father” (Gal. 1:4). As we consider the great cost of our salvation, and all that we have been delivered from, any thought of returning to those habits, or national characteristics, will be offensive to our new sensibilities. Grace, therefore, teaches us. “For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world” (Titus 2:11-12). Grace shows me that I am to live soberly—with personal self-control; righteously—interacting with others with integrity; godly—holy and reverent before God. This isn’t merely an external thing set before our intellect. Grace teaches us, by that work God has accomplished in us, what is abhorrent and what is acceptable to Him.
All of this is in view of that day when Christ shall appear in His glory. “Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Savior Jesus Christ; Who gave Himself for us, that He might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto Himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works” (Titus 2:11-14). The saints of God will appear with Christ. Paul told the Thessalonian saints: “For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at His coming?” (1 Thess. 2:19). If this was recompense for the Apostle’s labors, how much more so for Christ, when we are displayed with Him as the trophies of His grace. This motivates us in our life and walk.
The saints in Corinth were wealthy, but they were not generous. The Corinthians were puffed up in their own self-importance, glorying in their spiritual gifts, reigning as kings, and, as a result, they were indifferent to evil. Self-sufficiency and pride shut out the grace of God—although, they owed everything to it: “I thank my God always on your behalf, for the grace of God which is given you by Jesus Christ; that in everything ye are enriched by Him, in all utterance, and in all knowledge” (1 Cor. 1:4-5). The second epistle was written in response to the report Paul had received from Titus. The Corinthians had responded favorably to the rebuke of his first letter, having been rightly grieved by it. The word grace occurs eighteen times in the second letter—it is the restorative grace of God at work. In the eighth and ninth chapters, the Apostle exhorts them to be generous, provoking them by the gift he had received from the impoverished assemblies of Macedonia—not for his benefit, but for the poor (2 Cor. 8:19-20; Rom. 15:26). Throughout these two chapters the word grace appears many times; sometimes in the sense of gift, sometimes meaning thanks, but it is always grace punctuating the chapter. It is here amidst this prosaic, but necessary exhortation, that we find this wonderful treasure: “Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that ye through His poverty might be rich” (2 Cor. 8:9). It is the grace of God working in us, and teaching us, as to practical ministry. Earlier in this epistle, Paul had to write: “O ye Corinthians, our mouth is open unto you, our heart is enlarged. Ye are not straitened in us, but ye are straitened in your own bowels” (2 Cor. 6:11-12). The effect of grace is to enlarge our affections; legality has quite the opposite effect (Gal. 4:15-16).
Grace with our Spirit
If we have a true sense of God’s grace in our hearts, then we will live with a generosity and graciousness of spirit. “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom; teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord” (Col. 3:16). Grace may not be synonymous with graciousness; but graciousness is certainly a fruit of grace. Grace has been expressed toward us in the kindness of God through Christ Jesus (Eph. 2:7). For our part, therefore, we are to be “kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you” (Eph. 4:32). The spirit of grace is not judgmental nor destructive—it is kind and builds up.
Christ has atoned for my sins, but, more than this, He is the propitiation for the whole world. “He is the propitiation for our sins; but not for ours alone, but also for the whole world” (1 John 2:2 JnD). Because of propitiation, God can extend mercy to lost man. We are Christ’s ambassadors during this time of His rejection. We are to take up His mantle in the fullness of His work at Calvary. “God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself, not reckoning to them their offences; and putting in us the word of that reconciliation. We are ambassadors therefore for Christ, God as it were beseeching by us, we entreat for Christ, Be reconciled to God” (2 Cor. 5:19-20 JND). To call down fire upon the heads of our enemies is inconsistent with the character of this day of grace. “Turning He rebuked them and said, Ye know not of what spirit ye are” (Luke 9:55 JND). Rather, we are to “Pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you” (Matt. 5:44). “If therefore thine enemy should hunger, feed him; if he should thirst, give him drink; for, so doing, thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head. Be not overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Rom. 12:20-21). This is love working in the midst of evil.
Grace, on the other hand, is not what is popularly called tolerance—it is neither noble nor righteous to be tolerant of evil. “Woe unto them who call evil good, and good evil” (Isa. 5:20). The world sees it as a virtue to be accepting of all people without regard to their associations or manner of life. A day is coming when this contrary world will be set right-side up. “The vile person shall be no more called liberal, nor the churl said to be bountiful” (Isa. 32:5). Our speech is to be with grace, seasoned with salt (Col. 4:6). Salt purifies and preserves; it has rightly been said: salt is the consecrating principle of grace. It doesn’t indulge sin or folly (Eph. 5:4).
Love, as preached by the world, makes light of sin. Grace does not—God has delivered us from this world, the law, the flesh, and Satan (Gal. 1:4; 2:20; 5:24; Heb. 2:14). Christian love must, when necessary, confront sin—it would not be loving or kind to let it continue. Distinctions, however, must be made. “Some who dispute, correct; and some save, snatching them out of the fire; and some pity with fear, hating even the garment spotted by the flesh” (Jude 22-23 JnD margin). A garment would speak of a person’s manner of life—some lifestyles are abhorrent to God, and we must be careful lest we are defiled by them. “If a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted” (Gal. 6:1).
Four of Paul’s letters end in a similar fashion—a prayer that the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ might be with the spirit of the recipient. Each situation is unique—each calls for grace for a different reason. Two of the epistles are addressed to assemblies, whereas the other two are pastoral letters to individuals.
The various assemblies in Galatia had been turned aside by a Judaizing teacher. “He that troubleth you shall bear his judgment, whosoever he be” (Gal. 5:10). These Gentiles, having been saved by grace, had allowed themselves to come under the spell of this persuasive teacher. They were told that the law needed to be maintained for righteousness. This was a serious fall. “If righteousness come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain” (Gal. 2:21). Paul, the self-righteous Jew, had counted all this as loss (Phil. 3:4-9). He was aghast at what had befallen the Galatian saints. “Are ye so senseless? Having begun in Spirit, are ye going to be made perfect in flesh?” (Gal. 3:3 JnD). Had they even stopped for a moment and considered what the law required of them, or what it taught? “Tell me, ye who are desirous of being under law, do ye not listen to the law?” (Gal. 4:21 JnD). Peter, elsewhere, expresses similar sentiments. “Why tempt ye God, by putting a yoke upon the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear?” (Acts 15:10). This Judaizing of Christianity made it more palatable to the Jew. It also made it more appealing to the flesh (Gal. 6:12-13). Not only were they observing days and months and times and years, but they were also submitting to circumcision (Gal. 4:10; 5:2; 6:12-13). Paul, who had suffered so much at the hands of His own kin, bore in his body the scars he had received for preaching Jesus (2 Cor. 11:24). “Let no one trouble me, for I bear in my body the brands of the Lord Jesus” (Gal. 6:17 JND). It was an affront to all that he stood for that these Gentiles should be circumcised. They had fallen from grace. “For I testify again to every man that is circumcised, that he is a debtor to do the whole law. Christ is become of no effect unto you, whosoever of you are justified by the law; ye are fallen from grace” (Gal. 5:3-4). Sadly, the he who introduced the error, quickly became they (Gal. 5:12). A little leaven leavens the whole lump (Gal. 5:9). This false teaching—no doubt sold as a path to superior spirituality—resulted in their biting and devouring one another (Gal. 5:15). The last word in the Greek text of the epistle to the Galatians is brothers—αδελφοι. Grace makes brothers whereas the law divides. “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28). The Apostle concludes this corrective epistle, concerning the misuse of law, with: “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit” (Gal. 6:18).
Circumstances could not have been more different at Philippi. Here was an assembly which Paul could think upon with joy. They had participated in his work through practical gifts of fellowship. “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making request with joy, for your fellowship in the gospel from the first day until now” (Phil. 1:3-5 JND; see also 4:10). Theirs was a genuine affection for the Apostle. Philippi was a poor assembly and yet they willingly shared what they had (2 Cor. 8:1-2). There are no doctrinal errors addressed in the epistle, nor moral failures, nor does it present teaching as do other epistles. Nevertheless, as a normal assembly, Philippi had its share of practical difficulties, especially interpersonal contention. Each chapter touches on this subject (Phil. 1:27; 2:3; 3:16; 4:2). Paul also gives the solution: they were to be of one mind; to act in lowliness; mind the same thing; to be of the same mind in the Lord—all of which may be summed up by the verse: “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 2:5). We need His mind—not just as to things, but, more importantly, in us. To be of one mind does not mean coming together to hash things out—this is the flesh at work and the stronger mind will prevail; these sessions invariably descend into the very striving the epistle decries. The assembly, on the other hand, is not to sit idly by. They weren’t to be ignorant of the enemy’s efforts—there will always be evil workmen, enemies of the cross of Christ, and those who mind earthly things (Phil. 3:2; 3:18-19). Pastoral care is to be shown: “I intreat thee also, true yokefellow, help those women which labored with me in the gospel” (Phil. 4:3). The four chapters of the epistle present Christ for the Christian in four ways: Christ as our life—“For to me to live is Christ” (Phil. 1:21); Christ as our pattern—“Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 2:5); Christ as our object—“I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:14); Christ as our strength—“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Phil. 4:13). The grace which characterized the life of our Lord Jesus Christ, who walked through a scene marred by strife and jealous strivings, is to be with our spirit. When we arrive at the last verse of the letter, we are not surprised by the exhortation: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. Amen” (Phil. 4:23 JnD).
We have already discussed Timothy’s situation. Paul’s second letter to Timothy was at a time when things were not going well. Paul was in prison and the church of God had been influenced by profane and empty speculations which advanced impiety—the house of God had become a great house giving admittance to things dishonoring to God (2 Tim. 2:16,20). Timothy was to separate himself, not merely from these influences, but also those individuals connected with this sin. He was to “follow righteousness, faith, charity, peace, with them that call on the Lord out of a pure heart” (2 Tim. 2:22). Timothy was not to be swayed by the novel teachings of the day, rather, Paul instructs him to: “Continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them” (2 Tim. 3:14). Most of all, Timothy was not to give up his labors. He was to “proclaim the word; be urgent in season and out of season, convict, rebuke, encourage, with all longsuffering and doctrine” (2 Tim. 4:2 JnD). That work of grace in the midst of evil was to continue. Paul’s closing words of encouragement were needful for a dispirited Timothy. “The Lord Jesus Christ be with thy spirit. Grace be with you” (2 Tim. 4:22).
Philemon’s situation differs as much from the previous three as they do from each other. Philemon was a believer, saved, it would appear, through the preaching of the Apostle (vs. 19). Paul counted him a fellow workman (vs. 1). Philemon owned a slave, Onesimus, who had run away; he had also, it would seem, robbed his master (vs. 18). This less-than-profitable servant had fled to Rome, trusting, no doubt, to fade from view in the hustle-and-bustle of that great city. God, however, in His mercy had other plans. In Rome, Onesimus encounters Paul, the prisoner, and through him he is saved (vs. 10). How this came about we are not told. Perhaps God had brought him to the end of himself through the law of the land—once a thief, always a thief, is a well-known proverb. What was the now saved Onesimus to do? Grace does not ignore the offences of the miscreant. Onesimus must return to Philemon. One can imagine the emotion, perhaps anger, that Philemon might have felt when he opened the door to the one who had wronged him. Paul’s letter is full of tender beseeching. He does not write as an Apostle, but, rather, as the “prisoner of Christ Jesus” (vs. 1 JnD). There is pathos in that; the cost Paul paid for preaching Christ was not one Philemon could have easily dismissed. Paul exhorts Philemon to receive Onesimus now as a brother—one above a slave (vs. 16). If he had done him material harm, Paul would repay it—although, Philemon owed his life to the Apostle (vs. 19). Onesimus was now useful, and Paul would have retained him, but he would not do so without Philemon’s permission (vs. 13-14). He could have commanded, but he would not. Whatever Philemon did, it must not be “of necessity but of willingness” (vs. 14). This would take the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ. “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit” (vs. 25).
Great Grace
“With great power gave the apostles witness of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus: and great grace was upon them all” (Acts 4:33). The apostles and the early church faced immediate opposition and hostility. Nevertheless, their preaching and testimony to a risen, exalted Christ was unstoppable. “Beholding the man which was healed standing with them, they could say nothing against it” (Acts 4:13-14). Christ had ascended and the Holy Spirit had been given. The Spirit’s activity could not be denied. “God also bearing them witness, both with signs and wonders, and with divers miracles, and gifts of the Holy Ghost, according to His own will” (Heb. 2:4). It was very evident that the favor of God rested upon this growing company of believers. Later, the Christians were accused of having “turned the world upside down” (Acts 17:6). These were early days and that sweet communion with the Lord had not been disrupted. “They continued stedfastly in the apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers. And fear came upon every soul: and many wonders and signs were done by the apostles” (Acts 2:42-43). The great grace of God was upon them all and it displayed itself, not just in their testimony for Christ, but also practically in their lives. “Neither was there any among them that lacked: ... and distribution was made unto every man according as he had need” (Acts. 4:34-35).
We can identify similar times throughout the history of Christianity. The Protestant Reformation freed God’s Word from Rome’s imprisonment and its light swept through Europe like the rising sun of a new dawn. Martin Luther could have been martyred, as Jan Hus had been a hundred years earlier, but he was not. God allowed the Ottomans to divert the attention of Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor. Again, in the nineteenth century, the light of the Word of God was brought to bear upon the true character of the Church causing many to leave the independent, non-conformist churches of the day to be gathered to the Lord’s name alone. Many other truths were brought to light at that time also—the righteousness of God, justification, the present ministry of the Holy Spirit, our heavenly calling, prophecy, the true hope of the church—these are just some of the doctrines restored to their proper footing. We ask the question: Why at these times? Faithful men have labored throughout Christendom’s sad history, many in quiet obscurity; some even giving the ultimate sacrifice, their lives. In many instances the work was preparatory—it was God working in grace. Nevertheless, in His perfect timing, God can also act with great grace and the results are unstoppable.
Growing in Grace
It is all too easy to lose the sense of grace in our hearts. Peter begins his second epistle with: “Grace and peace be multiplied unto you through the knowledge of God, and of Jesus our Lord” (2 Pet. 1:2). We stand before God in perfect peace in His present acceptance and favor. Peter desires that our apprehension of this might be multiplied in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord. Grace will not occupy us so much with the blessings it bestows, but, rather, with the loving God who has bestowed them, and with the Lord Jesus through whom we first tasted those sweet waters of grace (Exod. 15:25). At the close of the same epistle, Peter instructs us to “grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Pet. 3:18). Peter links growing in grace with the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We grow spiritually when we allow God’s grace and a deeper knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ into our lives. We grow in that warm light of His favor (it is the only environment where such growth is possible), and we grow in the practical knowledge of what His favor is.
When decline begins to set in, and the sense of grace is lost, then the zeal of the religious flesh takes its place. Works triumph over communion and our walk begins to stray. The remedy we invariably impose is based on the principle of law. It is not a return to grace, and yet, legality will only further stunt spiritual growth. When the sense of grace is diminished, we decline in practice. Our motives must be in God. Sometimes, effort is made to press conduct, works, and practice; because (it is said) full grace was preached before; now, that there is decline in practice, you must preach practice. That which is the rather to be pressed, is grace—the first grace. It is grace, not legalism, that will restore the soul. Where the sense of grace is diminished, the conscience may be, at the same time, uncommonly active, and then it condemns the pressing of grace, and legalism is the result. When conscience has been put in action through the claims of grace, that is not legalism; and there will be holy practice in detail. There should be weeping as to the decline within Christendom. Paul was mindful of Timothy’s tears. Grace is not letting go—we are to “earnestly contend for the faith once delivered unto the saints” (Jude 3). Nevertheless, contending in fleshly energy is not the work of grace and will invariably produce a form of legalism and drive away the lambs. On the other hand, to allow looseness, and to adopt worldly principles, is not grace either.
One who has a narrow interpretation of the truth is often said to be legal, whereas one who generously interprets the truth is called liberal. While these may be partial truths, they are bad definitions. Truth is exclusive and, by its very nature, divides right from wrong. At the core of Christianity there are many immutable truths. Simply because one takes exclusive ground as to these, this does not make them legal. Submission and obedience to the Word of God is not legality. Contrariwise, one who rejects a rigid view of certain scriptures isn’t automatically liberal. At the root of both legality and liberalism is the flesh. Whenever we take up the things of God in the flesh, it must result in either legality or liberalism. Self and not God is the center of both views. Moreover, it is important to recognize that the right path is not some happy medium between the two. Such a path is as much guided by self-will as the two extremes. What then motivates the believer? “The love of Christ constraineth us” (2 Cor. 5:14). This is the source of our motivation.
Legality and liberalism will always assert their supremacy. Speak to a liberal, and they will assure you that their view is right. Likewise, the legal conservative. With both, however, man seeks to establish his own superior worthiness apart from God. Grace can never be appreciated until we recognize our utter unworthiness and our inability to attain any degree of worthiness before God. To be truly happy, we must know ourselves for what we are, and we are to be done with all questions as to self; conversely, we must know who God is in the fulness of His grace. My worthiness rests upon God’s view of my position in Christ. God gives grace to the lowly, but He must resist the proud. Does the Spirit which has taken His abode in us desire enviously? But He gives more grace. Wherefore He says, God sets Himself against the proud, but gives grace to the lowly (James 4:5-6 JND). When the heart knows the grace of God, it rests in that superabounding goodness. Self, along with all its jealous strivings, must necessarily vanish from view.
Introduction
Grace is a word we hear often—and so we should; the present dispensation is characterized by the reign of grace (Rom. 5:21). But what does it mean? I think, perhaps, that grace gets confused with graciousness—the two words are obviously linked, and the connection must not be severed, but grace isn’t simply God being gracious. We may have heard grace described as getting something good we do not deserve, whereas mercy is not getting something bad we do deserve! I’m a naughty boy, but I still get a gift—grace. I’m a naughty boy, but I don’t get that spanking—mercy. Although this is a helpful distinction, it only reflects one aspect of grace. Furthermore, the focus is on me, the recipient; it overlooks God’s part and the cost He bears. We may also have heard grace described as unmerited favor. For us, at least, this is true. We do not merit God’s favor; He didn’t save us because He saw something deserving in us. The grace of God is not connected with an obligation on His part. However, grace is still something more.
It is well to distinguish mercy from grace for we often confuse the two. Mercy is occupied with my great need; it meets me in my weakness. Grace, on the other hand, is that favor which flows from God in His sovereignty and reflects the character and greatness of the giver. Another has written: Grace refers more to the source and character of the sentiment, mercy to the state of the person who is its object. Grace may give me glory, but mercy contemplates some need in me. Mercy is great in the greatness of the need, grace in the thought of the person exercising it. A better understanding of the grace of God leads to a fuller comprehension of His ways and character. Grace’s beauty lies not in the one who receives it but in the One who dispenses it.
In the New Testament, the word appears well over a hundred times. The expression “grace of God” occurs more than twenty times, and “the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ,” or variants thereof, is to be found in a similar number—the Lord Jesus Christ is the one through whom grace has come to us. “For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ” (John 1:17). A familiar acronym explains grace as God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense. Grace is so intimately connected with our salvation that we often forget that, although it starts there, it certainly doesn’t end there. Paul encourages Timothy to be “Strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus” (2 Tim. 2:1). The Apostle is not speaking now of saving grace. Grace is that divine enablement which sustains us on our wilderness journey. William Kelly describes grace as the activity of divine love in the midst of evil. Andrew Miller, in a similar vein, writes: The term grace evidently conveys the idea of free gift, favor; without obligation on God's part, without claim on ours: or without raising the question of the condition of the one so favored; it may be called the indulgence of love. And it isn’t just that incomprehensible love manifested in the cross of Christ (1 John 3:16); it is that love which continues to act in the midst of all our circumstances. “If God be for us, who can be against us?” (Rom. 8:31).
The word grace occurs so many times in the New Testament that we may be tempted to treat it as a throw-away line. Men use expressions in this way but nothing in the Word of God is cliché or a mere literary ornament. Grace is a subject of great importance. As we consider God’s ways in grace, we are reminded that in spiritual matters we learn the truth of the thing before we learn its meaning. This is very true of grace. Every child of God, young or old, is the beneficiary of the grace of God. And yet, what grace truly entails is something we only begin to understand with time and experience. The more we meditate upon the grace of God the less we are occupied with the blessing it has bestowed, and the more with the heart of the God who has bestowed it. He is indeed the God of all grace (1 Pet. 5:10).
The Manifold Grace of God
Grace seems to defy definition—and yet, we don’t want to make it so abstract that it becomes devoid of all concrete meaning. Peter speaks of the manifold grace of God. “As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God” (1 Pet. 4:10). Manifold is not a word we use often; nevertheless, it gives an accurate sense to the underlying Greek. It refers to the all-various character, or, we might say, the multi-faceted character, of the grace of God. In that, I suppose, lies the difficulty with definition. Again, if we wish to understand and appreciate grace, we must turn to its source.
During Christ’s absence, He has poured out gifts upon the church. “Having ascended up on high, He has led captivity captive, and has given gifts to men” (Eph. 4:8). God did not leave the Church without resource, and, in His grace, He makes divine provision for the perfecting of the saints and the edifying of the body. Peter does not enumerate those gifts; elsewhere, the Apostle Paul shows us something of their diversity (Eph. 4; 1 Cor. 12; Rom. 12). Some gifts are public and are for the edifying of the body of Christ as a whole; many are local and are not so prominent; all are essential for the proper functioning of the assembly (1 Cor. 12:15-24). Peter’s emphasis is on the using of them—we are to be good stewards of the gift that we have received. Gifts, of course, can be misused. Indeed, the prideful tendencies of the human heart, and the abuse of gift, are to blame for many of the divisions within the church of God. God in His grace has given us gifts; He also gives the necessary grace to use them. “Unto every one of us is given grace according to the measure of the gift of Christ” (Eph. 4:7). “Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, whether prophecy, let us prophesy according to the proportion of faith; ... ” (Rom. 12:6).
The tendency, however, is to let those with a prominent gift exercise theirs, while we sit back at our ease. Indeed, the clerical system says: Let us pay those with ability to lead and teach and we will reap the benefit of their labors. Sadly, it exalts a clergy at the expense of a laity. It also rewards pride and complacency, two natural tendencies destructive to the assembly. A clerical system is quite contrary to God’s intent; we find nothing like it in the New Testament. The parable of the talents is, no doubt, a familiar one (Matt. 25:15-30). Not all receive the same gift, and not all gifts have the same manifestation in power, but we are to use the gift God has given us to the full, to the glory of God. God has not changed, His grace has not changed, and the Holy Spirit remains the same. We have no excuse—neither our own weakness, nor the weakness and character of the day—God’s grace is sufficient still.
When it comes to the exercise of gift, a further point must be made. Our ministry will be damaged by a walk inconsistent with this grace. The gift will have been received in vain. “We then, as workers together with Him, beseech you also that ye receive not the grace of God in vain. ... Giving no offence in anything, that the ministry be not blamed” (2 Cor. 6:1,3). This could be a result of sin, but just as equally lethargy, indifference, pride, or worldliness—the Corinthians were carnal Christians (1 Cor. 3:1). Many things can detract from our service for the Lord. Lot’s testimony was destroyed by the position of importance he had gained in the city of Sodom—who was he now to judge them? (Gen. 19:1,9). “Lot went out, and spake unto his sons in law, which married his daughters, and said, Up, get you out of this place; for the Lord will destroy this city. But he seemed as one that mocked unto his sons in law” (Gen. 19:14).
In Paul’s first letter to Timothy, he encouraged a timid young man to use his gift: “Let no man despise thy youth ... neglect not the gift that is in thee” (1 Tim. 4:12, 14). But when we come to Paul’s second letter—when Paul was imprisoned and many had abandoned, not only his teaching, but him personally—Timothy needed stronger encouragement. It is all too easy to throw up one’s hands and ask: What is the point? Paul encouraged Timothy: “to rekindle the gift of God which is in thee by the putting on of my hands” (2 Tim. 1:6 JND). The glowing embers which had once burned brightly were not to go out. Asia Minor may have abandoned Paul (2 Tim. 1:15), but Paul had not abandoned Asia Minor: “Tychicus have I sent to Ephesus” (2 Tim. 4:12). Timothy was to press on, exercising the gift which he had received. The fruit of our labors may not be evident in our lifetime, but the One who gathers in the harvest will not forget. “The husbandman must labor before partaking of the fruits” (2 Tim. 2:6 JND).
Not Under Law but Under Grace
“What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound?” (Rom. 6:1). The answer is clear and forthright: “God forbid. How shall we, that are dead to sin, live any longer therein?” (Rom. 6:1-2). All the doings of the natural man are governed by his sin nature. “They that are after the flesh do mind the things of the flesh” (Rom. 8:5). He is a slave to sin and is “free from righteousness” (Rom. 6:20). For the believer, this is no longer true. We have been delivered from the power of sin through death—quite removed from its dominion. God sees us as dead in Christ. It is important that we know this objectively. “Knowing this, that our old man has been crucified with Him, that the body of sin might be annulled, that we should no longer serve sin. For he that has died is justified from sin” (Rom. 6:6-7 JND). These verses speak of sin, our nature, and not sins—there is no sacrifice for sin; death is its due. A dead man has no perverse will or evil lusts. Knowing this, we are to take stock of this truth and to account it so in our lives. “Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom. 6:11). I owe no allegiance to a ruler who has been deposed—they no longer have lordship over me. “Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal body, that ye should obey it in the lusts thereof” (Rom. 6:12). The power of sin has been broken; it need not be our master any longer. We owe the flesh nothing whatsoever. “Therefore, brethren, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live after the flesh” (Rom. 8:12).
A second question is raised: “What then? Shall we sin, because we are not under the law, but under grace?” (Rom. 6:15). This differs from the earlier question—there it was a matter of continuing in sin (Rom. 6:1); that is to say, as to our state. The question now is, “shall we sin”? It speaks of action. The expression could be paraphrased: shall we continue to sin? Rather strikingly, Paul writes: “Sin shall not have dominion over you: for ye are not under the law, but under grace” (Rom. 6:14). This answer could not have been given without the first question having been addressed. Law addresses itself to the flesh, demonstrating and judging it for what it is (1 Tim. 1:9). If we walk after the flesh, the law still condemns us; but it will not change the flesh nor give us power for the Christian walk. The law will not produce righteousness, despite the best efforts of the flesh. My righteousness is found in Christ. “Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption” (1 Cor. 1:30). The flesh was judged at the cross and I am to reckon myself dead unto sin (Rom. 6:11). It is Christ who now lives in me (Gal. 2:20). Christ is my life, and it is my responsibility to show forth the life of Christ practically in my walk. God has given us, according to His divine power, all that pertains unto life and godliness (1 Pet. 1:3). We have been blessed with every spiritual blessing. “The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ” (Eph. 1:3). We have a new life animated by the power of the Holy Spirit, and the righteous requirement of the law will be fulfilled in us when we walk by the Spirit and not the flesh. “In order that the righteous requirement of the law should be fulfilled in us, who do not walk according to flesh but according to Spirit” (Rom. 8:4 JND). This is not a question of our righteous standing; that we have in Christ—rather, it speaks of the fruit of our walk in the Spirit.
Grace liberates us from the bondage of sin, but it does not turn liberty into an opportunity for the flesh (Gal. 5:13). Grace is not for the flesh. If grace is taken up in the flesh it will be turned into lasciviousness (Jude 4). We are a slave to whom we yield ourselves: “Know ye not, that to whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey; whether of sin unto death, or of obedience unto righteousness?” (Rom. 6:16). The bondage of sin is cruel and leads to death. The new nature, on the other hand, delights to do the will of God; there is no burden connected with it. “For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments: and His commandments are not grievous” (1 John 5:3). The Christian now acts, not because something is right, but because it is the will of God. For the Christian it is not now do but yield. We have a new master—righteousness. We are a slave to the one to whom we yield—whether slaves to righteousness unto holiness, or slaves to uncleanness unto lawlessness (Rom. 6:19).
We also find these principles borne out in Paul’s epistle to the Galatians: “I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless, I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me. I do not frustrate the grace of God: for if righteousness come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain.” (Gal. 2:19-21 JnD). The first part of this verse summarizes what we have been speaking of. We have the life of Christ within, and that life is to govern the activity of my person. The last part of the verse, however, gives us the motivation for Paul’s writing. The Galatians had been turned aside by Judaizing teachers and were attempting to maintain righteousness before God through the law. The Apostle rebukes them very sharply; he calls them senseless: “Have ye received the Spirit on the principle of works of law, or of the report of faith? Are ye so senseless? having begun in Spirit, are ye going to be made perfect in flesh?” (Gal. 3:2-3 JnD). We are not saved by grace so that we might walk according to law. If we attempt to walk according to law, we have fallen from grace. We have taken ourselves off the ground of grace. “Christ is become of no effect unto you, whosoever of you are justified by the law; ye are fallen from grace” (Gal. 5:4). No one was saved by the law, and no one can maintain righteousness before God by the law. Law forbids sin; grace, on the other hand, gives us power over sin. God has acted in grace so that we can be above sin and outside its dominion. One must expect shipwreck if they abandon the grace of God; it is a most serious and dangerous position to be in.
Restoring Grace
“Brethren, I commend you to God, and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified” (Acts 20:32). We are kept by the word of His grace, but what about our failures? Does that fountain dry up? The Lord intercedes for us without our even asking. We do not gain Him, to intercede for us, because of our repentance or prayers. He did not intercede for Peter when he repented, but before he sinned; He interceded for Peter because he needed it. “If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father” (1 John 2:1). It does not say, If any man repent of his sin, but “If any man sin.” That is, He wants it. It is the exercise of grace in His own heart towards us to restore our souls. It is a mistake to suppose that we invoke the advocacy of Christ—call upon Him, as we might a lawyer—to extricate us from a scrape that we may have gotten into. This is quite wrong and not the thought at all. He acts before we even think of acting; repentance is the fruit of Christ’s advocacy, not the start. “The Lord turned and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how He had said unto him, Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny Me thrice. And Peter went out and wept bitterly” (Luke 22:61). Peter may have abandoned the Lord in denying Him, but the Lord did not, and could not, abandon Peter. Peter’s weeping was not the end of his restoration; no, it was only the beginning. After the resurrection, Peter saw the Lord before the rest of the twelve disciples (1 Cor. 15:5). What transpired in that private meeting we are not told. Finally, Peter was restored publicly before his brethren (John 21:15-19). It is Peter who writes from personal experience: “Ye were as sheep going astray; but are now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop [Overseer] of your souls” (1 Peter 2:25).
Grace is invariably viewed as all pleasantries with no rebuke or hardship. Does the story of Job bring before us the grace of God? Yes, indeed! God would not leave Job satisfied with his own righteousness. The trials God allows have a need be, whether corrective or for spiritual growth. “Now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations [trials]” (1 Pet. 1:6). It is the goodness of God that leads man to repentance (Rom. 2:4), and that same goodness continues its work after salvation. Repentance is the judgment we have passed upon ourselves, as to all that we have done and been, in God’s presence under grace. God desires not only a perfect walk, but He also wants us to be happy in a known relationship with Himself. When the heart is broken down with sorrow, faith is forced to rest upon Him in complete dependence. It is then that God comes with grace. By the revelation of Himself, in patient goodness and in strengthening power, He lifts the heart above and beyond all the sorrow. In spite of circumstances the soul is happy in the gifts of His kindness. Rest and comfort are to be found in God alone. Happiness springs from sources entirely outside of our circumstances; it can only be found in the understanding and enjoyment of our true place before God, and in receiving everything from His hand as the expression of His perfect goodness.
There is a danger, however, that we may fail of the grace of God. “Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby many be defiled” (Heb. 12:15). Chastening is not pleasant, and we may become despondent, even bitter—the hands hang down and the knees fail (Heb. 12:12). We lose our confidence in God. Satan loves for us to question God’s goodness: Is He really for you? Faith is a citadel that Satan cannot breach; but when we take things into our own hands, then he has gained a foothold.
Saving Grace
Having established that there is no righteousness with man, God acts in His sovereignty according to His own righteousness. “Now the righteousness of God without the law is manifested, ... Even the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe ... For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; Being justified freely by His grace through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus; whom God has set forth a mercy-seat, through faith in His blood” (Rom. 3:21-24). God’s righteousness is declared in the cross of Christ. He is now free to justify us (judicially declare righteous) according to His acceptance of Christ. It is indeed freely—God’s grace is unmerited; it is entirely undeserved. But it was not free—an important distinction. It may not cost me, but it cost God the utmost. He “spared not His own Son but delivered Him up for us all” (Rom. 8:32). Redemption carries with it the thought of purchase—the price to set free. Consequently, it is according to the riches of His grace. “In whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace” (Eph. 1:7). We do well to pause and meditate upon the riches of His grace! There is no alternative outside of grace; it is our only hope of salvation—we could not pay, or even partially pay, that price. The Father sent His only begotten Son into the world so that the world through Him might be saved (John 3:17). To reject this gift must necessarily be an afront of the worst possible kind. “Of how much worse punishment, think ye, shall he be judged worthy who has trodden underfoot the Son of God, and esteemed the blood of the covenant, whereby he has been sanctified, common, and has insulted the Spirit of grace?” (Heb. 10:29 JND).
It is the blood of Christ that satisfies God’s righteous requirements. God can look upon the blood, as He looked upon the mercy seat of old (Lev. 16:14-16), and in perfect righteousness extend mercy to man. The mercy seat in the tabernacle, indeed the tabernacle itself and all connected with it, were mere shadows of what was to come. For the believer, the blood is the ground of our justification: “Justified by His blood” (Rom. 5:9). God’s righteousness is not compromised by grace; He doesn’t overlook sin, nor does He cover it. This would be unrighteous on God’s part. A judge of this world may look at my history and say, “You have a good record; I will overlook this infraction.” God, however, is a righteous judge; He cannot countenance sin—any sin (Hab. 1:13). Moreover, my record is far from clean. If justification came by any means other than grace—His full provision—it would require compromise with God.
If man merited salvation, even in some small measure, it would represent an obligation on God’s part. “Now to him that worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt [obligation]” (Rom. 4:4). With grace, there is no obligation—God sovereignly gives from the storehouse of His own riches. Grace and God’s sovereignty go hand-in-hand; undermine one and you diminish the other. Faith lays hold of God’s provision and receives it as true. “He that hath received His testimony hath set to his seal that God is true” (John 3:33). Faith necessarily precludes all boasting: “Where is boasting then? It is excluded. By what law? of works? Nay: but by the law of faith. Therefore, we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law” (Rom. 3:27-28). It is on the principle of faith—faith resting upon the finished work of Christ—that God declares us to be righteous in Christ. “Therefore, having been justified on the principle of faith, we have peace towards God through our Lord Jesus Christ; by whom we have also access by faith into this favor in which we stand” (Rom. 5:1-2 JnD). Faith answers to grace as do works to law. Faith and works are opposing principles, as are law and grace.
The world talks about faith as if it is a quality worthy of merit. Faith is not a virtue that merits God’s grace. Even our faith is part of God’s provision in grace. “By grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:8). Grace itself is not the gift—the word grace means gift; faith is the gift. Faith’s value lies not in the thing itself but upon that which it rests. One might hear in a crisis: “Well, I’m glad you have your faith”. Faith in what? In 1696, Henry Winstanley began construction on the first Eddystone lighthouse. It was completed two years later. Winstanley is recorded as having great faith in his construction and expressed a desire to be in it during the greatest storm there ever was. He got his wish. The Great Storm of 1703 (an extratropical cyclone) destroyed the lighthouse. None of the six occupants, including Henry Winstanley, were ever seen again. The only thing that gives value to faith is what it rests upon. Faith that rests upon Christ’s work at Calvary and receives God’s assessment of it, not its own, is saving faith.
God is satisfied with Jesus,
We are satisfied as well.
Various theological systems teach prevenient grace—this expression, which is not found in the Word of God, refers to the grace of God which supposedly precedes and prepares a person for conversion. The teaching takes various forms, but we will consider that which is called resistible grace. It says that grace works with the will of man, enabling him to believe; such grace, it is said, may be resisted. Prevenient grace is said to precede new birth. While this doctrine may be palatable to man there is no hint of it in the Word of God. Verses supposedly in support of it do not speak of it at all. If God’s offer of salvation is unto all (Rom. 3:22) then, the argument goes, He is unrighteous unless He provides grace to all, so all might have the opportunity to believe. God, in sending His Son, has truly done everything possible in presenting opportunity to the heart of man, but Jesus Christ was rejected. The flesh is flesh, and no amount of grace changes that. “That which is born of the flesh is flesh” (John 3:6). We do not believe to be quickened; rather, we are first quickened by God so that we might believe. “Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die” (John 11:26). One who is dead is incapable of believing. “You hath He quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins” (Eph. 2:1). The doctrine of prevenient grace insists that we are, by God’s grace, momentarily awakened from our moribund state to receive or reject salvation. But what life have we at that moment? The old nature, incapable of submitting to God’s will? Or a new nature, born of God, that cannot commit sin (1 John 3:9)? If the latter, then we are quickened; we are born again—and “He which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6). This is a life which we cannot lose. Prevenient grace is a false teaching that leaves room for boasting on man’s part; God and man are seen acting together—God giving opportunity to man to act. Grace entirely removes this opening. “Not of works, lest any man should boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works” (Eph. 2:9-10). Rather than solving anything, the doctrine of prevenient grace simply creates more difficulties.