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““We endeavor to produce specialists in the Bible. . .to proclaim the whole counsel
of God.”— J. GRESHAM MACHEN, 1929
Introduction
Covenantal Apologetics The Irrationality of Unbelief by K. Scott Oliphint
Biblical Counseling A Biblical Counseling View by David Powlison
Redemptive-Historical Hermeneutics The Damascus Road Christophany by G. K. Beale
Biblico-Systematic Theology Union with Christ and Justification by Lane G. Tipton
Church History Why Christians Need Confessions by Carl Trueman
Christ-Centered Preaching Preaching Christ by Iain Duguid
Further Reading
TABLE of CONTENTS
02
05
17
25
39
53
65
79
– 2 –
Rigorous Training for a Rigorous Calling
To choose Westminster Theological Seminary is to choose a cur-
riculum that since 1929 has been devoted to applying the highest
quality of reformed scholarship to the task of ministry. Several
fundamental principles underlie the curriculum:
Your studies at Westminster will be thoroughly exegetical. Nearly
every degree requires students to work in the uniqueness of the
original biblical languages. This requirement is necessary, not only
for New Testament and Old Testament classes, but also for the other
disciplines: apologetics, systematic theology, preaching, and the rest.
We aim to equip you in such a way that your entire ministry will
be shaped by careful exegesis of God’s Word.
Your studies at Westminster will be thoroughly integrated. The the-
ology of each of our departments depends on the others. Because
each discipline derives its content and methodology from Scripture,
each discipline necessarily draws on, as well as informs, all the
others. The content and character of your apologetics courses will
shape your counseling courses. You will become a better preacher
while in your church history courses. You will become a better Old
Testament exegete in your systematic theology courses. Our goal is
for the whole counsel of God to shape your whole education—and
therefore your whole ministry.
INTRODUCTIONThe Westminster Choice
– 3 –
Your studies at Westminster will be thoroughly practical. Scholarship
exists to serve the church. Every class is designed to strengthen your
ministry. Although classes often will be rigorous as they engage
numerous, important topics, they all have far-reaching impact for
ministry. The further you engage the depth of God’s Word, the
more prepared you will be to lead God’s flock through that Word.
A Single Choice for a Lifetime of Ministry
Over the course of only a few years, your seminary studies have the
potential to impact the rest of your life and ministry. The faculty, the
lectures, the reading lists, the study groups, the internships—every-
thing will dramatically shape your understanding of the gospel and
your effectiveness in ministry. A theological education is not only
a profound opportunity, but also a critical choice. The character of
your ministry will follow the character of your seminary education.
One of the most important decisions, then, that you can make for
your ministry is to challenge yourself with a seminary education
that aspires to the quality and goals that the Bible requires. Scripture
commends to us the “noble task” of ministry (1 Tim 3:1). Scripture
cautions us with the high responsibilities of the calling (James 3:1;
Acts 20:27–28) and the critical role of right theology for the sake of
effective ministry (1 Tim 4:6–7, 16).
Many factors matter in committing to seminary. Location matters.
Cost matters. Time matters. Westminster offers convincing value
in each of these. But more than these, content matters, because
content is what you will take to your flock. The content you receive
from the quality of faculty and theological training matters most,
because it will shape your teaching, preaching, counseling, study,
and ministry for all of the decades that follow. The following pages
are intended to offer a taste of the training that students receive
while at Westminster.
“Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God. And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who
are spiritual.”
1 Corinthians 2:12–13
– 6 – – 7 –
pologetics is not the foundation for Scripture;
Scripture is the foundation for apologetics.
A true apologetic is one that is built upon a
philosophy according to Christ, rather than
human tradition. Any defense of the Christian faith that
is built upon Aristotle, Plato, Descartes, Kant, or any other
philosopher is not a Christian apologetic. The power to
convict us of our sin and give true understanding resides
in the gospel alone. Therefore, no matter how articulately
unbelief is presented, thorough knowledge of God’s Word
is the best preparation to demonstrate the deceitfulness
of human wisdom.
Covenantal apologetics is not a formula that is merely
rehearsed when someone questions the truth of God’s
existence. A covenantal apologetic brings the manifold
wisdom of God to the many ways people suppress the
truth in unrighteousness. It seeks to display how our
suppression of the truth always reveals itself in both our
words and deeds. Covenantal apologetics presents true
wisdom—which is rooted in Christ. The following pages
demonstrate Westminster’s unique approach to apologetics.
A
– 7 –
THE IRRATIONALITY OF UNBELIEF
by K. Scott Oliphint
Every single individual, universally and eschatologically, either
remains covenantally bound to Adam or is, by faith, covenantally
bound to Christ.
In the latter half of Romans 1 and into Romans 2, Paul has one
overarching concern, which is to explain just how the wrath of
God is made manifest among those who are outside of Christ,
those who remain in Adam. In order to make clear the effects of
God’s wrath as it is now revealed, Paul directs us both backward,
to the beginning of creation itself, and forward, to the outwork-
ing of God’s wrath for those who are covenant-breakers in Adam.
There are a number of helpful and enlightening projects that could
be pursued with great benefit, both theologically and apologeti-
cally, in this passage. Given the limitations of space, however, we
will confine ourselves in this brief study to those aspects of Paul’s
analysis that will help us understand how unbelief is inherently
irrational. In order to do that, we should begin with the cause of
God’s wrath in the lives of those who remain in Adam, and then
show the effects of that cause.
As noted, when Paul begins his discussion of the revelation of
God’s wrath from heaven, he has two primary aspects of that
– 8 – – 9 –
wrath in view: the cause and the effects. He gives the universal
scope of the cause itself in Romans 1:18. God’s wrath is revealed
from heaven “against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men,
who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth.” It is ungodliness
(asebeian/ἀσέβειαν) and unrighteousness (adikian/ἀδικίαν) against
which God’s wrath is revealed. But Paul goes on to define in a
striking way what motivates God’s wrath toward all who are in
Adam, all who are covenant-breakers. He introduces a specificity
to this unrighteousness; it is an unrighteousness that is defined
essentially as a suppression of the truth.1
Verse 18, then, is a general announcement of the fact that God’s
wrath is revealed, and of the reason for that wrath. The cause of
God’s wrath toward us is our unrighteous suppression of the truth.
In other words, God’s wrath is revealed from heaven because, in
our wickedness and unrighteousness (in Adam), we hold down (in
our souls) that which we know to be the case. Within the context
of this general announcement, however, Paul knows that he has
introduced two concepts, suppression and truth, that will neces-
sarily need clarification. In verses 19–23 (and, to some extent, v. 25
as well), Paul develops and amplifies the notions of “suppression”
and of “truth.”
If we take verses 18–32 as a unit, we can see how Paul puts flesh
on his (so far skeletal) notion of “truth” as he reiterates what he
means by truth in verses 19, 20, 23, and 32 (with v. 25 simply repeat-
ing the notion of “the truth of God”). In each of these verses, Paul
gives more specificity to the concept of truth mentioned in verse
18. We shall take these verses together in order to understand what
Paul means by “the truth” that is suppressed.
In verse 19, Paul tells us that by “truth” he means that which is
“known about God.” The truth that is suppressed, therefore, is spe-
cifically truth about God. The way in which we come to know this
– 9 –
truth is twofold. We come to know it, in the first place, because
it is evident (phaneron/φανερόν) among us. Paul will expand
this idea in the next verse. Before that, however, he wants us to
understand just how this truth, this knowledge of God, is evident
or clear among us.
This is vitally important for Paul. It is vitally important, as we will
see, both because Paul is concerned with God’s activity in reveal-
ing himself (more specifically, his wrath) and, in tandem with that,
because Paul wants to highlight the contrast between what God is
doing in this revelation, on the one hand, and what we (in Adam)
do with it, on the other.
So, Paul says immediately (even before he explains the sweeping
scope of what is evident among us) that the reason that God’s
revelation is evident among us is that God has made it evident to us.
We should be clear here about Paul’s emphasis. What Paul is con-
cerned to deny in this context is that we, in our sins, as covenant-
breakers in Adam, would ever, or could ever, produce or properly
infer this truth that we have, this knowledge of God, in and of
ourselves. Paul wants to make sure that we are not tempted to think
that the truth of God, as evident among us, is evident because we
have marshaled the right arguments or have set our minds in the
proper direction. His point, at least in part, in this entire section,
is to remind us of the devastating effects sin continues to have on
our thinking (in Adam). The truth that we know—that we retain,
possess, and suppress—therefore, is truth that is, fundamentally
and essentially, given by God to us. God is the one who ensures
that this truth will get through to us. It is his action, not ours, that
guarantees our possession of this truth.
The truth that we all, as creatures in Adam, know and suppress is
a truth about God. Even more specifically (v. 20), it is a truth con-
– 10 – – 11 –
cerning the “invisible” things of God, his eternal power and deity.
What might Paul mean by this description? While it is perhaps not
possible to be absolutely definitive, it seems that Charles Hodge is
right in his assertion that what Paul has in mind here are “all the
divine perfections.” 2 Had Paul wanted to limit his description, he
would more likely have delineated exactly what characteristics of
God were known through creation.
This truth that we all know, then, is the truth of God’s existence,
infinity, eternity, immutability, glory, wisdom, and so forth. As Paul
is developing this thought in verse 23, he speaks of this knowledge
of the truth as “the glory of the incorruptible God.” It is this that
we all know as creatures of God. It is this that God gives, and that
we necessarily “take” as knowledge, which comes to us by virtue
of his natural revelation.
Two important aspects of this knowledge of God are crucial to
see. First, we should be clear about the context for this knowledge.
It is not knowledge in the abstract of which Paul speaks. He is
speaking here of a knowledge that ensues on the basis of a real
relationship. It is not the kind of knowledge we might get through
reading about someone or something in a book or in the news-
paper. This is relational, covenantal, knowledge. It is knowledge
that comes to us because, as creatures of God, we are always and
everywhere confronted with God himself. We are, even as we live
in God’s world every day, set squarely before the face of the God
who made us and in whom we live, move, and exist. This, then,
is decidedly personal knowledge. It is knowledge of a person, of
the Person, whom we have come to know by virtue of his constant
and consistent revealing of himself to us.
This personal aspect of the knowledge we have is made all the
more prominent in verse 32. This verse serves as a transition
between Paul’s exposition of God’s wrath revealed in chapter 1,
– 11 –
and the revelation of God’s law in chapter 2. Notice that Paul can
affirm that those who are in Adam “know the ordinance of God.”
This knowledge of the ordinance (to dikaiōma/τὸ δικαίωμα) of God
is coterminous with our knowledge of God. To know God, in the
way that Paul is affirming here, is to know (at least something of)
God’s requirements. Along with the knowledge of God, in other
words, comes the knowledge “that those who practice such things
are worthy of death.” Instead of repenting, however, we, in Adam,
rejoice in our disobedience and attempt to gather others who share
in our rebellion. Therefore, because this knowledge is a relational
knowledge, and because the relationship is between God and the
sinner, God ensures that we all know that the violations of his law
in which we willingly and happily participate are capital offenses;
they place us under the penalty of death. Our knowledge of God
is a responsible, covenantal knowledge that brings with it certain
demands of obedience.
Second, Paul is emphatic that this knowledge of God, as given to
us, is abundantly clear and is understood. There is no obscurity in
God’s revelation. It is not as though God masks himself in order
to keep himself hidden from his human creatures. The problem
with the natural revelation of God—and on this we need to be as
clear as possible—is not from God’s side, but from ours.
With the preceding discussion in mind and in the background, we
can move to the material in Romans 1 that bears more directly
on our announced topic, the irrationality of unbelief. In clarifying
what is meant by ‘‘truth’’ in verse 18, Paul at the same time begins
to clarify what he means when he says that, in Adam, we suppress
that truth. It is this suppression, we will begin to see, that is the
cause of, and the impetus behind, the irrationality that is our sin.
As Paul is explaining what he means by truth, he is also pouring
content into the notion of suppression that he introduced in verse
– 12 – – 13 –
18. It is in verses 22, 23, and 26 that we see Paul explaining what
suppression is. What we immediately notice in these verses is that
the notion of suppression is characterized by what Paul calls an
exchange. The suppression, which is part and parcel of our own
sinfulness, is worked out, says Paul, by the fact that we take this
glory of God (which is the truth we have from him) and exchange
it for an image.
This, then, begins to explain the utter irrationality of creatures who
remain in Adam. We have, as creatures made in God’s image, the
truth of God. To use Paul’s strong and decisive terminology, we
know God. We have this knowledge of the truth by virtue of his
(merciful) revelation to us. This knowledge of God comes to us
through everything that God has made (which is as universal as
one can imagine, since it includes everything but God himself). Yet,
instead of acknowledging God’s revelation (and repenting on the
basis of it), we twist and pervert it, turning it into (exchanging it
for) something false, something of our own imaginings, something
that we ourselves have invented. We take this truth, which should
cause us to bow down and worship God, and to be thankful (v.
21), and we fashion it into an idol. All of us, in Adam, are experts
at inventing idols.
We should remember here that our idolatry stems not from igno-
rance, not from a futile attempt to fill a void in our lives. It results
always from a perversion of the truth, a twisting of reality. It stems
from denying the way things are and attempting to create a world
of our own making. It is idolatry, therefore, that lies at the root
of our sin, and thus at the root of our irrationality. In Adam, we
convince ourselves that what we know to be the case is unten-
able. What we necessarily understand, we sinfully attempt to hold
down. We sinfully exchange our true knowledge of God, which
he graciously gives, for false gods and images.
– 13 –
These images, Paul wants us to remember, are not simply things
that we make and leave behind. Images, as idols, are not decora-
tive mantel pieces or innocuous statues. Paul makes clear, in strong
religious language, that, as a matter of fact, these images are made
in order that we might worship (sebazomai/σεβάζομαι) and serve
(latreuō/λατρεύω) them (v. 25). We should see, then, that the activity
in which we are engaged as sinners apart from Christ is an activity
that is rooted and grounded in an illusion. Instead of worshiping
God, we make other things that we can worship. We bow down
to those things as if they were the true God, and thus we create
for ourselves a complex web of self-deception.
This is why Paul notes, in verse 25, that our suppression involves
an exchange of the truth of God for a lie. However much we might
want to retain certain elements of the truth we have been given,
we only retain that which will serve our own idolatrous purposes.
The whole of our lives, in sin, is seen to be a running away from
the obvious, a holding down of what is in front of us always and
everywhere, in order to build a world based on lies and deception.
If we think, therefore, of irrationality as a disjunction between
ourselves and the world as it really is, this pattern of exchange
and illusion is a quintessential expression of such a disjunction. It
is what robs us of being truly human—it is what is always at work
to dehumanize us.3
Lest there be any questions about the irrationality of this idolatry,
Paul turns us to the effects of God’s wrath on those who persist in
it. In his discussion of God’s-wrath-as-a-result-of-suppression, Paul
outlines the general parameters of the effects of this suppression
in the lives of those who are covenant-breakers in Adam. In this
discussion, a general pattern emerges. The pattern looks some-
thing like this: suppression (katechō/κατέχω, v. 18) is essentially an
exchange (allassō/ἀλλάσσω, v. 23; metallassō/μεταλλάσσω, vv. 25, 26),
– 14 – – 15 –
which brings about God’s giving over (paredōken/παρέδωκεν, vv. 24,
26, 28) those who are in Adam to more and more sinful behavior.
But Paul does not want us to think that only the most obvious
of perversions qualify as irrational. He gives us an impressive list
of all kinds of sins, so that we might see, as Jesus himself said,
that it is out of the heart (of suppression and exchange) that evil
thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness,
slander, and other sins come (see Matt 15:18f.). All sin, as sin, is
rooted in an irrationality that seeks in earnest to deny what is
obvious and to create a world that is nothing more than a figment
of a sinful imagination.
The apologetic implications of this passage are deep and wide.
Among the most important is the fact that every person on the
face of the earth is, by virtue of being created in God’s image, a
God-knower. No person operates in a religious vacuum. No person
is outside the bounds of God’s covenant relationship. Those who
are in Adam are, nevertheless, in a covenant-breaking relationship
with the God who made and who sustains them.
In our defense of Christianity, therefore, we may be confident in
the fact that, even before we begin our defense, God has been
there, dynamically and perpetually making himself known through
every single fact of the unbeliever’s existence. Our apologetic is,
then, in a very real sense, a reminder to the unbeliever of what
he already knows to be the case.
Much more needs to be pursued, but space constraints draw this
to a close. We should note, however, in conclusion, that the end
result of God’s revelation to his human creatures is that they are
rendered, centrally and essentially, without excuse. The word Paul
uses here (used here alone in the New Testament) can be rendered,
literally, “without an apologetic” (anapologētous/ἀναπολογήτους, Rom
– 15 –
1:20). If we think of what it means to have no excuse, no defense,
we realize that there is, as a matter of fact, no reason to be given
for a particular offense or violation. This is Paul’s meaning here.
In spite of any attempt to explain or give a rational account of sin,
those outside of Christ will never be able to find a reason for the
rejection of the obvious. The irrationality of unbelief, as Paul will
go on to explain in the book of Romans, finds its only terminus
in its own demise. That demise is met at the cross and becomes
ours through faith in Christ.
The mysterium iniquitatis, as the suppression and grotesque
exchange of the knowledge of God, is only defeated in the Great
Exchange of the gospel, the mysterium Christi (Col 1:27).
Dr. Scott Oliphint is professor of apologetics and systematic theology at Westminster Theological Seminary. BS, West Texas State University, 1978; MAR, Westminster Theological Seminary, 1983; ThM, Westminster Theological Seminary, 1984; PhD, Westminster Theological Seminary, 1994.
1 We are taking the prepositional phrase en adikia to be instrumental rather than adverbial. See John Murray, The Epistle to the Romans: The English Text with Introduction, Exposition, and Notes, The Epistle to the Romans: The English Text with Introduction, Exposition, and Notes (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997).
2 Charles Hodge, Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1994), 37.
3 So, says Ridderbos, “as communion and life with God imply true manhood, so alienation from God means the corruption, indeed the destruction of human existence.” Herman N. Ridderbos, Paul: An Outline of His Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997), 112.
– 16 – – 17 –
“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sym-pathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
Hebrews 4:15–16
– 18 – – 19 –
cripture knows man better than man knows
himself. The Word of God speaks to every form
of human sin and suffering. It accurately
reveals our true problem: guilt before a holy
God. And it accurately reveals the only solution: faith in
the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. No secular
theory crafted by man—whether by Freud, or Skinner,
or Frankl, or anyone else—has the piercing, diagnostic
insight of Jesus Christ. Christ and his Word alone can
pierce the depths of the human psyche. No matter how
simple or complex the situation, confidence that we truly
move toward people with wisdom comes only when we
move toward them with Scripture and the gospel.
Biblical counseling is not the application of a step-by-step
formula aimed at behavior modification, or a positive
reinforcement model hoping to boost self-esteem. Biblical
counseling is the application of a Person to the details
of someone’s life. It is based on a relationship aimed at
heart modification, in humility and esteem toward God.
This relationship offers true sanity—that which dwells in
Christ alone. The following pages demonstrate our unique
approach to counseling.
S
– 19 –
Christian faith is a psychology. A coherent, comprehensive under-
standing of how people work is intrinsic to thinking Christianly.
The revelation of Jesus Christ offers a distinctive interpretation of
the “thoughts and intentions of the heart,” those schemata and
motivations that structure and animate human behavior. Scripture
offers a distinctive interpretation of “nature” (i.e., constraints and
potentials of the body) and of “nurture” (i.e., enculturating voices
and interpersonal experiences). God reveals a distinct image of
human flourishing toward which counseling aspires, and a distinctive
change process by which we move toward that ideal. A Christian
understanding systematically differs from how other psychologies
explain the same phenomena.
Christian ministry is a psychotherapy. Intentional, constructive con-
versation is indispensable to practicing Christianly. The revelation
of Jesus Christ creates a distinctive understanding of methodology,
a distinctive social location for counseling practice to flourish. This
care and cure for the soul systematically differs from how other
psychotherapies deal with the same problems in living.
This is not to say that a Christian psychology and psychotherapy
come ready-made in the pages of the Bible. Nothing comes ready-
made. Biblical counseling wisdom is an ongoing construction project,
A BIBLICAL COUNSELING VIEW
by David Powlison
– 20 – – 21 –
like all practical theological work. It is one outworking of biblical
faith into the particulars of our time, place, problems, and persons.
Our call to do this work raises the question of how Christian faith
and practice relate to other psychologies and psychotherapies that
inhabit our sociocultural surroundings. What are the similarities
and differences between other psychologies and Christian faith,
between other psychotherapies and Christian practice? How do other
psychologies and psychotherapies challenge us? What helpful things
can we learn from them? (Christians ask these questions.) What
should they learn from us? How do we challenge them? (To their
detriment, non-Christian psychologists don’t ask these questions.)
We share all things in common regarding subject matter. We share
a desire to help make right what goes so wrong in personal and
interpersonal life. Yet we see with different eyes and proceed with
different intentions. The similarities, analogies, and commonalities
create reasons for extensive interaction, expecting to learn from
each other. The differences, disparities, and antinomies create rea-
sons for thoughtful disagreement, seeking to persuade each other.
This article will mention several underlying assumptions of a
Christian point of view and indicate orienting implications for how
we understand and help people.
“Believe so that you may understand,” as Augustine put it. Disbelieve,
and you discard the key to true knowledge. Misbelieve, and you
systematically deviate from reality. Unbelieve, and you forfeit even
“the beginning of wisdom.” Believe so that you may understand,
or Jesus’ words will bite: “Can a blind man lead a blind man?
Will they not both fall into a pit?” (Luke 6:39). Wisdom keeps
the true God consciously in view when considering humankind.
You may accumulate an infinitude of psychological facts, ency-
clopedic information about people, but without keeping God in
view, T. S. Eliot’s (1963) words will bite: “Where is the wisdom
– 21 –
we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have
lost in information?” Wisdom is the crown jewel: “nothing you
desire can compare” (Prov 3:15).
Believe so that you may understand. This is obviously the case when
it comes to knowing God. But it equally applies to understanding
persons who intrinsically are image of God, accountable to God,
deviant from God, and renewable by God. The psyche’s dynamics
operate Godwardly—whether we know it or not, whether a theory
reckons with it or not, whether a therapy addresses it or not.
Let’s briefly orient to underlying assumptions of this Christian
point of view, noting a few psychological implications. We’ll start
by considering three strands of the Nicene Creed.
First, we believe that God is the maker of all that is. By implication,
we have been handmade by a Person, down to the idiosyncrasies
of personal history and social location; of genetic code, hormone
levels, disease process, and dying; of individual quirk, character,
and bent of heart. Every person exists as a dependent and oper-
ates vis-à-vis this Person of persons to whom we owe our lives.
To be fully human is to know and love this Person to whom we
owe our lives. To be fully human is to know and love this Maker
by name. Such knowing is the pervasive psychological reality in a
sane human being: heart, soul, mind, and might. Such sanity fully
takes to heart the interests and welfare of other persons besides
oneself. Christian faith understands psychology and psychotherapy
as implications and outworkings of this God-centered point of
view. We are told about God and we realize the God-referential
psychodynamic running through every human heart. When other
psychologies abstract people out of this true context, they theorize
about an abstraction, never quite seeing the person. They will
manufacture, research, and counsel a humanoid, while the essential
humanity slips through their fingers.
– 22 – – 23 –
Second, we believe that the Lord is judge of the living and the
dead. By implication, we are thoroughly known and evaluated: the
innermost thoughts and intentions; the cries of anguish, confusion,
outrage, fear, or joy; every casual word or habitual choice—always
amid the threats, pains, and constraints, the hopes, felicities, and
opportunities of physical and social circumstance. The one who
searches all hearts and understands every plan and thought, the
one to whom we must give account, misses nothing and consid-
ers everything (1 Chr 28:9; Heb 4:13). Actual psyches love either
God or something else. A fierce Christlessness is the universal,
obsessional neurosis. God is jealous for our loyalty, and he notices
whenever other choices condition current psychological reality. He
finds us wanting, fatally flawed by self-serving bias as the pervading
psychological reality. Life and death hang on what happens next.
Third, most wonderfully, we believe that Christ came down for us
and for our salvation. By implication, we’ve not been left to ourselves
and our fate. God pursues us in person. All that goes wrong—our
sins and miseries, a body breaking down, a social world breaking
down, the madness in our hearts (Eccl 9:3)—can and will be made
right by Christ. “He restores my soul” (Psalm 23:3). The restora-
tion of our humanity involves restoring our primary relationship.
The restoration of our humanity is a psychological reality, among
other things, engaging every aspect of psychological functioning:
sense of identity, operations of conscience, thought, feeling, choice,
memory, anticipation, attitudes, relationships. Psychotherapy ought
to restore your soul. It ought to cure you of your variant on the
universal, obsessional neurosis and make you sane.
Maker, Judge, and Savior orient us as we seek to make sense of the
psychological functioning of creatures who are made, judged, and
redeemable. The implications hold true down to the microscopic
individual details of human psychology. Of course, this credo
supplies none of the myriad psychological facts and details—far
– 23 –
from it. There’s work to do and much to learn from many sources.
But the credo orients, teaching us to see facts in their true context.
Dr. David Powlison is executive director and professor of biblical counseling at CCEF and adjunct professor of practical theology at Westminster Theological Seminary. AB, Harvard College, 1971; MDiv, Westminster Theological Seminary, 1980; MA, University of Pennsylvania, 1986; PhD, University of Pennsylvania, 1996.
– 24 – – 25 –
“You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness
about me.”
John 5:39
– 26 – – 27 –
ow do we interpret the account of David and
Goliath? Is it only information about the history
of Israel? Is it just a picture of how God was
gracious to David? Is it merely meant to stir
up bravery for the underdog in us all? No. It is first and
foremost a historical demonstration of a shepherd-king
who delivers a deathblow to a worldly champion threat-
ening the people of God, a mortal wound promised in
Genesis 3:15 and now blossoming in this picture of David.
This story points to Christ—the true shepherd-king—who
delivers the final deathblow to the prince of this world. It
is Christ who disarms the rulers and authorities of this
age (Col 2). It is Christ to whom David looked forward
(Acts 2:31). And it is only by faith in Christ that David
did these things (Heb 11:33). The account of David and
Goliath bears witness to Jesus Christ.
The Bible does not gradually become a Christian docu-
ment from the Old Testament to the New Testament. The
Bible is not two different plans for two different peoples
of God (i.e., Jews and Christians). The Bible is not a
reimagined myth dreamed up around the life of Christ.
Redemptive-historical hermeneutics recognizes that the
Bible throughout is Christian Scripture. All of Scripture,
whether it is in the Old or New Testament, not only points
to but also reveals and applies Jesus Christ. Just as the full
tree is present in the acorn, so also is the gospel present
in the Old Testament in embryonic form. Without this
assumption, our understanding of any text in any part
of the canon will be, at root, a misunderstanding (2 Cor
2:14). The following pages demonstrate this method of
biblical interpretation rooted in rigorous exegesis.
H
– 27 –
THE DAMASCUS ROAD CHRISTOPHANY
by G. K. Beale
The most stunning reference to resurrection in all of Acts is the
threefold reference to Christ’s resurrection appearance to Paul on
the Damascus Road (Acts 9; 22; 26). Although the Greek words
for resurrection are not used in the accounts of chapters 9 and
22, the actual words are used to introduce and summarize the
chapter 26 narrative (vv. 8, 22–23). Paul’s narrated explanation in
Acts 26 of Christ’s appearance to him cannot be fully understood
without observing and evaluating his use of the Old Testament
there (see table 1).
Why does Luke describe Paul’s experience through allusion to the
calling of the Old Testament prophets Jeremiah and Ezekiel and
through the calling of the prophetic Servant of Yahweh in Isaiah?
There appear to be at least three reasons. First, Luke wants to
portray Christ as speaking as the Lord of the Old Testament, who
gave the prophets their vocation (note in this respect that Jesus
is called “Lord”). Second, Luke wants to emphasize the prophetic
authority of Paul and that his authority is equal to that of the Old
Testament prophets; that is, he is also a divine spokesman. Note that
all the major prophets of the Old Testament begin their prophetic
careers by being commissioned by God through a theophanic
vision and verbal communication (although God does not appear
in Jeremiah’s vision or in the call of the Isaianic Servant). Third,
– 28 – – 29 –
Table 1
ACTS 26 OLD TESTAMENT (LXX)
Acts 26:16a “stand on your feet” Ezek 2:1 “stand on your feet”
Acts 26:16–17 “To appoint you”; “delivering you”; “I am sending you”
(see also Gal 1)
Jer 1 “I send you”; (v. 7) “to deliver you” (vv. 8, 19); see also vv. 5, 10
(see also Gal 1:15:“But when God, who had set me apart even from my mother’s womb,” allud-ing to Jer 1:15 in application to Paul’s Damascus Road experi-ence)
Acts 26:18 “to open their eyes so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the dominion of Satan to God”
Isa 42:6b–7 “for a light of the Gentiles to open the eyes of the blind, to bring the bound and them that sit in darkness out of bonds and the prison-house”
Isa 42:16 “I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not, and I will cause them to tread paths which they have not known: I will turn darkness into light for them.”
Acts 26:23 “to proclaim light both to the Jewish people and to the Gentiles”
Isa 49:6 “for the covenant of a race, for a light of the Gentiles, that you should be for salvation to the end of the earth”
Acts 26:16a “a minister and a witness”
Isa 43:10 “witness … servant” (referring to Israel)
– 29 –
just like these Old Testament prophets, Paul’s prophetic function
was to preach salvation and, especially, judgment (above all here,
note Jeremiah and Ezekiel).
In light of the above parallels, it is probable that in Acts 26:13 (“On
the way I saw from heaven, greater than the brightness of the sun
[lamprotēta tou hēliou], a light [phōs] shining [perilampsan]”) is
an allusion to Isaiah 60:1–3, where there is an emphasis on God’s
light not only for the “sons” of Jerusalem, but also for kings and
gentiles (cf. Acts 9:15). In Isaiah 60:1–3 we find the language of
“give light” (phōtizou [2x]), “light” (phōs [2x], “glory of the Lord”
(doxa kyriou [2x]), and “brightness” (lamprotēti [1x]). Perhaps, we
may also add the parallel from Isaiah 42:1 (“elect” [eklektos]) with
Acts 9:15 (“elect vessel” [skeuos eklogēs]).
Thus, against the background of Isaiah 42; 43; 49, Paul is seen as
carrying on the task of the prophesied Isaianic Servant begun by
Christ, with whom Paul is corporately identified and by whom
Paul is represented (of course, in doing so, Paul is a ministering
assistant of the Servant). Like Christ, Paul “opens eyes to turn from
darkness” and “shines light to the Gentiles” (cf. esp. Acts 26:23
with 26:18). Christ and Paul are leading the second, new exodus
and return from exile prophesied in Isaiah 40–66.
This identification with Isaiah’s prophesied Servant is also brought
out by comparing Luke 2:30–32; Acts 13:47; 26:18, 23 with the
most relevant Isaiah passages (see table 2).
This also means that Christ and the apostles were the beginning
of the new Israel, since Isaiah 49:3 affirms explicitly of the Servant
in 49:6 that “you are My Servant, Israel.” Even the identification of
Christ with “glory” in Luke 2:32 may well arise from Isaiah 49:3b
(“in whom I will show My glory”). In Acts 26:13–18 Jesus is so
identified with “light” that “light” probably stands for him. Against
– 30 – – 31 –
the background of Isaiah 60:1–3, Jesus is seen as Yahweh, whose
light and glory now sets on the new Israel, through which light
will be shone to the gentiles:
Isaiah 60:1–3
Arise, shine; for your light has come,
And the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
For behold, darkness will cover the earth,
And deep darkness the peoples;
But the Lord will rise upon you,
And His glory will appear upon you.
Nations will come to your light,
And kings to the brightness of your rising.
Consequently, the Luke-Acts passages about Jesus and Paul indi-
cate inaugurated fulfillment of the Isaianic prophecies. But why is
light underscored in Isaiah? The Isaiah 60 passage may represent
what is in mind in the other Isaiah prophecies about light. The
reference that “darkness will cover the earth, and the deep dark-
ness the peoples,” likely alludes to Genesis 1:2–4: “And darkness
was over the surface of the deep. … Then God said, ‘Let there be
light’; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good;
and God separated the light from the darkness.” Isaiah 60:1–3 is
depicting the coming restoration and redemption of Israel against
the background of Genesis 1:2–4. The reason for doing this is that
Isaiah understands the future blessing on Israel and the world to be
a recapitulation of the first creation, so that Israel’s and the nations’
salvation is painted as a new creation and emergence from spiritual
darkness. The same notion of new-creational light presumably is
also in mind in the New Testament allusions to these Isaiah verses.
That the idea of new creation is conveyed in the New Testament
uses is also indicated by Paul’s statement in 2 Corinthians 4:6: “For
God, who said, ‘Light shall shine out of darkness,’ is the One who
has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the
– 31 –
Table 2
Isa 42:6b–7 “for a light of the Gentiles to open the eyes of the blind, to bring the bound and them that sit in darkness out of bonds and the prison-house”
Isa 42:16 “I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not, and I will cause them to tread paths which they have not known: I will turn darkness into light for them.”
Isa 49:6 “for the covenant of a race, for a light of the nations, that you should be salvation to the end of the earth”
Luke 2:30–32 “For my eyes have seen Your salvation [i.e., Christ], which You have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light of revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of Your people.”
Acts 13:47 “For so the Lord has commanded us, ‘I have placed you as a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring salvation to the end of the earth.’”
Acts 26:18 “to open their eyes so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the dominion of Satan to God”
Acts 26:23 “that the Christ was … to proclaim light both to the Jewish people and to the Gentiles”
glory of God in the face of Christ.” I contend elsewhere that in 2
Corinthians 4:4–6 Paul is reflecting partly on Acts 26:18, 23, as
well as the closely connected idea of “glory” in Isaiah 49:3; 60:1–3
– 32 – – 33 –
(alluded to also in Luke 2:32), and also Isaiah 9:1–2, the only other
place where the Greek phrase “light will shine” is used. And, as
we have seen and will see again in Paul’s writings, Isaiah 40–66
combines prophecies of new creation with prophecies of return
from exile because the restoration was also to be a new creation.
Gerhard Lohfink sees a pattern in a number of Old Testament visions
that is common to the Damascus Road accounts. He detects the
following pattern in Genesis 46:1–4 (cf. esp. Acts 9:4–6); Genesis
31:11–13 (Acts 26:14–16); Genesis 22:1–2, 11–12; Exodus 3:2–13;
1 Samuel 3:4–14:1
1. the double vocative,
2. the question of the man, or the man’s response,
3. the self-presentation of the one appearing, and
4. the mission.
For example, the pattern is easily observable in Exodus 2:2–10:
1. the double vocative: “Moses, Moses” (v. 4);
2. the response from the man: “Here I am” (v. 4) and “Now they
[Israel] may say to me, ‘What is His name?’ What shall I say to
them?” (v. 13);
3. the self-presentation of the one appearing: “I am the God
of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the
God of Jacob” (v. 6);
4. the commission: “Therefore, come now, and I will send you
to Pharaoh, so that you may bring My people, the sons of Israel,
out of Egypt” (v. 10 [see also vv. 14–22]).
The same pattern is narrated in Christ’s appearance to Paul in Acts 26:
1. the double vocative: “Saul, Saul” (v. 14);
2. the response or question of the man: “Who are you, Lord?”
(v. 15a);
– 33 –
3. the self-presentation of the one appearing: “I am Jesus whom
you are persecuting” (v. 15b);
4. the commission: “But get up and stand on your feet; for this
purpose I have appeared to you, to appoint you a minister and
a witness not only to the things which you have seen, but also
to the things in which I will appear to you; rescuing you from
the Jewish people and from the Gentiles, to whom I am sending
you, to open their eyes so that they may turn from darkness to
light and from the dominion of Satan to God, in order that they
may receive forgiveness of sins and an inheritance among those
who have been sanctified by faith in Me” (vv. 16–18).
The significance of this observable pattern is that Paul is being
commissioned as a prophet. Indeed, in the past thirty years or so
of Pauline scholarship, the commissioning typically has been the
focus, and there has been a rejection of the formerly held view
that Paul had a conversion experience on the Damascus Road. But
why cannot Paul have been both converted and commissioned as
a prophet at the same time? Indeed, the Old Testament prophetic
commissioning patterns may also include both notions. For example,
it is possible that Moses was converted and commissioned by the
theophanic experience at the burning bush (there is no defini-
tive evidence that he was a believer in Yahweh before that time).
Likewise, it is even more likely that the prophetic commissioning
of Isaiah was executed at the time of his conversion. In Isaiah 6
Isaiah says, “Woe is me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of
unclean lips … for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts”
(v. 5). An angelic being then touches his mouth with a burning
coal taken from the altar and announces, “Your sin is forgiven” (vv.
6–7). Then Isaiah receives his prophetic commission (vv. 8–10).
This language points strongly to conversion.
Another important part of the pattern in the repeated Old Testament
theophanic-prophetic commissioning narratives is that the one who
– 34 – – 35 –
appears is always the Lord or the angel of the Lord. In Acts 26
the name of Jesus is substituted for God in the “self-presentation”
part of the pattern (“I am the God of …” [cf. esp. Genesis 31:13;
46:3; Exodus 3:6]): “And the Lord said, ‘I am Jesus whom you are
persecuting’” (v. 15b). This highlights the deity of Jesus and his
divine authority in calling Paul as a prophet.
In Acts there are three references to the heavenly source of the
revelation to Paul on the Damascus Road: “light from heaven” (phōs ek tou ouranou [9:3]); “from heaven a very bright light flashed all
around me” (ek tou ouranou periastrapsai phōs hikanon peri eme
[22:6]); “a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, shining all around
me” (ouranothen hyper tēn lamprotēta tou hēliou perilampsan me
phōs [26:13]). “Heaven” in Acts refers to the sphere of Jesus’ inau-
gurated eschatological reign (cf. 2:30–36; 7:55–56 with 1:8–11). In
1:9 Jesus “was lifted up … and a cloud received him” in association
with the heavenly angels explaining to the onlookers why this was
happening. This appears to be a reflection of Daniel 7:10, 13–14
where the prophetic vision foresees a time when “with the clouds
of heaven one like a Son of Man was coming, and he came up to
the Ancient of Days.” That Daniel 7 is the background in Acts 1:9
is further indicated by the references in Acts, chapters 2 and 7 to
heaven in conjunction with Jesus’ residence there. Jesus’ “ascent
to heaven” has resulted in him “having been exalted to the right
hand of God” and “seated upon his throne” to reign as “Messiah”
(2:30–36). The references in Acts 1:9; 2 are then developed further
in 7:55–56:
But being full of the Holy Spirit, he gazed intently into
heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at
the right hand of God; and he said, “Behold, I see the
heavens opened up and the Son of Man standing at the
right hand of God.”
– 35 –
The combined mention of “heaven,” “glory,” and “Son of Man,” are
further telltale reflections of the famous Daniel 7 prophecy of the
Son of Man’s kingship, which has been inaugurated by Christ’s
resurrection and ascension and has its eschatological center of
gravity in the heavenly dimension.2
The Acts references to Christ being in heaven and Paul’s own
experience of Christ’s revelation to him from that heaven perhaps
led Paul to hold not only that Christ had become heavenly through
his resurrection (1 Cor 15:42–49), but also that by virtue of his
exaltation Christ was now in heaven (Eph 2:6; Phil 3:20–21; Col
3:1; 4:1). The New Testament eschatological center of gravity has
moved from the earthly realm (in the gospels) to the heavenly
realm (Acts and Paul). For example, in addition to Acts 1–2; 7, this
theme is expressed in Ephesians. The “blessings in the heavenly
places in Christ” (1:3) includes Christ commencing “the heading
up of all things … in the heavens and … on the earth” (1:10). In
particular, Christ’s resurrection has led to him having been seated
at God’s “right hand in the heavenly places,” and consequently,
God “has put all things in subjection under His feet” (1:20, 22), the
latter phrase an allusion to Psalm 8:6 (cf. similarly Phil 3:20–21;
Col 3:1, the former of which views “heaven” as the dwelling place
of the “Lord Jesus Messiah”). This is summarized as God making
Christ “head over all things” (1:22), likely a further unpacking of the
“heading up” reference in 1:10. Ephesians 4:10 appears to develop
the same theme (“He who ascended far above all the heavens, so
that He might fill all things”).
The Daniel 7 and Psalm 8 background in connection with Jesus’
beginning kingship in heaven rings with the sound of Adam’s
beginning kingship in the beginning new creation in Genesis 1–2.
The upshot of this section is that Paul first experienced on the
Damascus Road the inaugurated realities of the kingdom of the
– 36 – – 37 –
new creation in heaven, where the resurrected Christ had begun
to reign and from where he was revealing himself to Paul.
Dr. Greg Beale is professor of New Testament and biblical theology at Westminster Theological Seminary. BA, Southern Methodist University, 1971; MA, Southern Methodist University, 1976; ThM, Dallas Theological Seminary, 1976; PhD, University of Cambridge, 1981.
1 Gerhard Lohfink, Paulus vor Damaskus: Arbeitsweisen der neueren Bibelwissenschaft dargestellt an den Texten Apg 9:1–19, 22:3–21, 26:9–18, SBS 4 (Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1966), 53-60.
2 I am following Andrew T. Lincoln, Paradise Now and Not Yet: Studies in the Role of the Heavenly Dimension in Paul’s Thought with Special Reference to His Eschatology, SNTSMS 43 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 101, 149.
– 38 – – 39 –
“We refuse to practice cunning or to tamper with God’s word, but by the open statement of the truth we would commend ourselves to everyone’s con-science in the sight of God.”
2 Corinthians 4:2
– 40 – – 41 –
n-depth study of systematic theology demands
in-depth exegesis of Scripture. Systematic the-
ology is not the study of abstract principles,
it is the study of a Person revealed in his
Word. Systematic theology is not a survey of historical
theology. It is not the art of integrating the Bible with a
philosophical paradigm. Even though systematic theol-
ogy focuses on specific topics, the understanding of
those topics must be rooted in the unfolding self-witness
of Scripture. This topical presentation of the history of
special revelation in its overall unity finds its binding
center and consummation in the redemption purposed,
accomplished, and applied by the triune God in Christ.
Subjects such as sin, salvation, and the Trinity must first
be perceived in the light of Scripture, and secondarily
in light of our creeds and confessions. Although biblical
theology and systematic theology are distinct disciplines,
they can never be separated, and thus they must mutually
condition each other. The church progresses in systematic
theology only when she is increasingly reformed accord-
ing to Scripture.
I
– 41 –
If the imputation of Christ’s righteousness is best understood as
that aspect of union with Christ that supplies the judicial ground
of justification, then it seems critical to examine the biblical lines
of argument that support such a conclusion. In this section we will
examine four distinct lines of argument that together confirm the
notion that imputation is the judicial ground for justification and is
given distinctly, inseparably, simultaneously, and eschatologically
in union with Christ.
First, all saving benefits of the gospel, including justification, sanc-
tification, and adoption, are given to believers only in terms of
faith-union with the crucified and resurrected Christ of Scripture.
Paul reminds the Ephesian Christians, and believers more gener-
ally, that they have “every spiritual blessing in the heavenly realms
in Christ Jesus” (Eph 1:3). Every blessing in the Spirit that can be
given in this age is a present possession of the church in Christ
Jesus. A little reflection sustains this observation quite convincingly.
Believers are elected and predestined in Christ (Eph 1:4, 5), die and
rise with and in Christ (Eph 2:4–6; Col 2:11–13; 3:1–4), are called
in Christ (1 Cor 1:9; 2 Tim 1:9), regenerated in Christ (Eph 2:5; Col
2:13), justified in Christ (Rom 8:1; Gal 2:17; 1 Cor 1:30), sanctified
in Christ (1 Cor 6:11; Rom 6:5ff.), persevere in Christ (Rom 6:4;
UNION WITH CHRIST AND JUSTIFICATION
by Lane G. Tipton
– 42 – – 43 –
1 Cor 4–9; Phil 1:6), die in Christ (Rev 14:13; 1 Thess 4:17) and will
be raised and glorified in Christ (1 Cor 15:22; Rom 8:30). Herman
Bavinck, in Our Reasonable Faith, offers characteristic insight:
There is no sharing in the benefits of Christ unless we share
in His person, for the benefits are not to be separated from
the person. … [T]he benefits which Christ gives are spiritual
in kind. They consist above all of His favor, His mercy,
His love, and these gifts which are thoroughly personal
in kind and are not to be separated from the person of
Christ. The treasury of benefits has not been deposited
somewhere on earth, in the hands, say, of pope or priest,
on in church or sacrament. It is to be found exclusively
in Christ Himself. He is that treasury. … And, conversely,
there is no fellowship with the person of Christ without
sharing in His treasures and benefits. … [And] Christ
gives Himself and all His benefits to the church through
the Holy Spirit (John 16:13-15).1
By virtue of union with the person of the crucified and resur-
rected Christ, believers receive every soteric benefit, whether
justification, sanctification, or adoption, because the benefits of
redemption cannot be separated from the person of the crucified
and resurrected Christ.
Believers are united to the person of Christ. But more specifically
believers are united to his person as crucified and resurrected.
Therefore (secondly), extending the preceding observation, union
with Christ is a soteric replication in the structure of the believer’s
life experience of what happened antecedently in the life experience
of Christ, namely, death and resurrection.
Ephesians 2:5–6 proves particularly instructive along these lines.
In perhaps its broadest description, Paul presents the believer’s
– 43 –
personal experience of salvation as being made alive with Christ
(2:5) and raised into the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus (2:6). God
has “made us alive together with Christ” and “raised us and seated
us in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.”
In Ephesians 2, Paul refers in verses 2, 3, and 5 to the course of
the believer’s life experience prior to union with Christ. The refer-
ences to a previous walk in verse 2 (cf. Col 3:7; 2 Cor 5:7) involve
a customary form of life, accenting a characteristic ethical orienta-
tion. Paul’s language in 2:3 regarding “former conduct” confirms
that he has in view life experience of sinful disobedience prior to
being made alive together with and raised up together in Christ (cf.
2 Cor 1:12; 1 Tim 3:15). These observations reinforce Paul’s baseline
conviction that union with Christ has a “before” and “after” in life
experience (cf. Rom 16:7). The “before” and “after” of union with
Christ involves the most basic transition conceivable in Christian
experience: a transition from death in sin and trespasses (Eph
2:1–3) to resurrection life in Christ Jesus (Eph 2:4–6).
Ephesians 2:6 amplifies the point that the new life given in Christ
has a decisively resurrection structure: “And He raised us up
and seated us in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” The act of
resurrection, by which believers become possessors of new life,
cannot be isolated from union with Christ. There is no notion of
redemptive life apart from the more basic category of resurrec-
tion life, and this resurrection life is given in terms of union with
Christ. Hence, when Paul specifies the sense in which we have
been made alive in Christ (v. 5), it is natural and necessary that
he invoke the category of resurrection life in Christ (v. 6). To be
made alive with Christ consists in being raised up together with
and in Christ. The believer’s death and resurrection with and in
Christ replicates on a soteriological level the resurrection of Jesus
Christ from the dead.
– 44 – – 45 –
This critical point that governs Paul’s soteriology becomes transparent
when we read Ephesians 2:5–6 in light of Ephesians 1:19–20. There
is a replication in the structure of life experience of the believer of
what occurred in the life experience of Christ. As Christ was dead
on account of believers’ trespasses reckoned as his own (1:20), so
the believer, prior to union with Christ, was “dead in trespasses” (v.
5). As Christ is “raised from the dead” (1:20), so also the believer
is “raised up together in Christ Jesus” (2:6). As the resurrected
Christ is “seated at God’s right hand in the heavenlies” (1:20), so
also the believer is “seated in the heavenlies in Christ Jesus” (2:6).
What obtains in the life experience of Christ as resurrected and
seated in the heavenlies pertains to the church’s life experience in
union with Christ. This principle of soteric replication explains the
resurrection structure of union with Christ. It is resurrection life in
Christ—the very resurrection life of Christ—believers possess in
union with Christ. Therefore, replication of the resurrection life of
Christ in believers occurs by means of union with Christ.
Third, and supplying the basic redemptive-historical rationale
for both the point that precedes and the points that follow, Christ’s
bodily resurrection, as an eschatological event in redemptive history,
includes within it his own justification, adoption, and sanctifica-
tion (cf. 1 Tim 3:16; Rom 1:4; 6:9–11). Not only does Paul speak
of Christ’s death and resurrection as the basic redemptive category
that structures union with Christ, but he also thinks in concrete
categories about the nature of Christ’s own bodily resurrection. Paul
understands Jesus’ resurrection as his justification, sanctification,
and adoption, and each benefit is a distinct yet inseparable aspect
of the one eschatological act of resurrection.
1 Timothy 3:16 focuses on Jesus’ justification. At the time-point of
his resurrection, Christ was justified in the Spirit. Regarding the
structure of this verse, which is actually a stylized poem, I see no
compelling reason to depart from the majority position that there are
– 45 –
three stanzas composed of two lines, with antithetical parallels pres-
ent in each couplet. Hence, contrast one is the flesh-Spirit; contrast
two is angels-nations; contrast three is world-glory. The structure
of the poem subserves the fundamental theological message of
the text, which focuses attention not on the two natures of Christ,
but on the two states of Christ, namely, humiliation and exaltation.
Consequently, the contrasts in view are fundamentally eschato-
logical in character. The contrast in couplet three between world
and glory gives us some insight into the nature of the contrast in
the first couplet between flesh and Spirit. Just as world is related
to glory as the sub-eschatological is related to the eschatological
(i.e., the preliminary to the final, the provisional to the complete),
so also the contrast in the first couplet between flesh and Spirit.
While the incarnation of the Son of God “in the flesh” in 1 Timothy
3:16 does not involve sin, it does denote that mode of existence
qualified as temporary, transitory, and provisional. Flesh stands
in antithetical contrast to Spirit. The Spirit stands over against the
flesh as the agent of the New Creation. George Knight is helpful
on this point:
Rom. 1:4 serves as the best commentary on this compact
statement (see the commentaries on Romans by Cranfield,
Murray, Ridderbos, ad loc.). In Rom. 1:4 the pneuma would
appear to be the Holy Spirit. There, too, a vindication
or demonstration is in view (“declared to be the Son of
God with power”) and the means of the declaration is
“by the resurrection from the dead.” … If these are true
parallels, then here Paul is speaking of the vindication of
Jesus by the Holy Spirit through his resurrection.2
Moreover, we must not overlook the contrast between the Son
“being believed on in the world” (ἐν κόσμῳ) and “being taken up in
– 46 – – 47 –
glory” (ἐν δόξῃ). The same sort of contrast present between world
(as it presently exists) and glory (the realm of the eschatological
future, presently realized in the resurrection order) is present in the
flesh/Spirit contrast in couplet one. Therefore, when put in view of
our text in 1 Timothy 3:16, Spirit and glory are clearly coordinates
of one another—the Spirit standing in eschatological contrast to
the flesh as glory does to world.
Christ’s appearance “in the flesh” accents his identification with
humanity in its weakness and frailty and gives expression to his
assumption of human nature in its sub-eschatological mode of
existence. To speak of Christ as justified in the Spirit invokes his
relation to the Spirit-wrought eschatological act of re-creation that
dawns in his own resurrection. Paul therefore lays bare the funda-
mentally eschatological character of Christ’s resurrection. Jesus, as
resurrected, is identified not with the fleshly, weak, and provisional
order, but becomes a participant in the pneumatic order of glory
and imperishability (cf. 1 Cor 15:42–49).
And this is true of Christ not only as resurrected, but also as justi-
fied (ἐδικαιώθη) in his resurrection (3:16b). The eschatology of Jesus’
resurrection sheds a great deal of light on the nature of his justi-
fication. Just as Jesus is raised to an eschatological order, never to
return to the frail, provisional, and transitory, so also with respect
to the justifying aspect of his resurrection. Jesus’ resurrection as
his justification places him as second Adam and Messiah perma-
nently beyond probation and in full possession of eschatological
righteousness. Jesus’ justification in the Spirit is an irreversible and
declarative act that demonstrates his eschatological righteousness.
The same verb (ἐδικαιώθη) appears in other contexts—one in
Paul and the other in a synoptic gospel—and carries the forensic,
declarative, and demonstrative sense of open acquittal or vindica-
tion (Rom 4:2; Matt 11:19). When we grasp that Jesus is justified
– 47 –
(ἐδικαιώθη) in his resurrection, the judicially demonstrative and
forensically declarative character of his resurrection from the
dead becomes obvious. Jesus’ resurrection is an eschatological
demonstration and judicial declaration that the Son of God has
been vindicated as righteous.
The resurrection of Jesus as his justification follows from the fact
that Jesus died as a substitutionary sacrifice for his people, bearing
the wrath and condemnation of God for sins not his own (Heb
2:17; Rom 3:24–25; 4:25; 2 Cor 5:21; Heb 9:26–27). Jesus bore in
his sacrificial death the reckoned guilt of his people that requires
their condemnation. Hence, the person of Jesus per se is without
sin, but Jesus as a substitutionary sacrifice actually bears in his
death the guilt of reckoned sin and the judicial reality of escha-
tological condemnation. Because this is the case, we must speak
of Jesus’ resurrection as his justification. The judicial declaration
of justification alone reverses the judicial verdict of condemnation,
and the verdict of justification in Jesus’ case is manifest in his
resurrection in the Spirit.
And when we recognize the covenantal character of Jesus’ obedience
as a second and last Adam (Luke 4:1–13; Rom 5:12–19; 1 Cor 15:45,
47), and the way that his active and passive obedience satisfies the
just demands of the covenant of works, then the resurrection of
Christ as his justification must involve a judicial declaration that the
Son of God has met perfectly the demands of justice, in terms of
both the positive precept and the penal sanction of the covenant
of works. Thus, the resurrection of Christ as his justification is a
forensic declaration that the Son of God has offered the ex pacto,
meritorious obedience required under the covenant of works both
in life and in death. The resurrection of Christ as his justification
is the necessary outworking of the meritorious obedience offered
by the Son of God under the covenant of works.
– 48 – – 49 –
Since the covenant of works invests the work of the Son of God
with both an eschatological and meritorious character, it follows
that the resurrection of Christ includes eschatological justification.
Covenant theology demands nothing less, and Paul in 1 Timothy
3:16, consistent with the corpus of his entire theology, teaches the
eschatological justification of Jesus Christ by virtue of his resur-
rection in the Spirit.
Dissatisfaction with understanding the resurrection of Christ as
including his justification could easily betray an implicit permuta-
tion of a docetic Christology. The reality of Jesus’ condemnation
demands that resurrection include a justifying aspect. This is so
because the judicial verdict of justification alone answers to the
judicial verdict of condemnation, and the verdict of justification
in the resurrection of Christ signals an eschatological reversal of
the verdict of condemnation he suffered on the cross. Just as Jesus
was truly condemned in his death, so also he was truly justified
in his resurrection. Paul accents the appearance of Jesus in the
flesh in the context of his justification in the Spirit, which rules out
any form of docetic Christology, or implications consistent with a
docetic Christology.
Fourth, Jesus Christ, as crucified and resurrected, contains within
himself—distinctly, inseparably, simultaneously, and eschato-
logically—every soteriological benefit given to the church (cf.
1 Cor 1:30: “And of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became
for us wisdom from God, that is, our righteousness, holiness,
and redemption”). Demonstrating the christological character
of God’s wisdom, and elaborating on the fact that no flesh can
boast before God (vv. 17–29), Paul argues that God has origi-
nated a state of affairs in redemptive history in which Christ, by
virtue of his death and resurrection, has become eschatological
wisdom for his people.
– 49 –
That this is the case turns on the fact that Christ “became wisdom
from God for us.” And it is “of his doing” that you are “in Christ
Jesus.” The point is that no flesh can boast before God, because,
for one thing, it is of him or of his doing that believers are in Christ
Jesus. It is the sovereign power or activity of God, and nothing
resident within the flesh, that effects union with Christ. Therefore, a
decisive, divine activity lies at the basis of the believer’s union with
Christ, and the language “in Christ Jesus” provides a comprehen-
sive soteriological formulation that sums up globally the difference
between those who know God’s wisdom and those who do not.
Paul uses the “in Christ” phrase pervasively to convey the multi-
faceted reality of the salvation heralded in the gospel of Christ. But
what more specifically does 1 Corinthians 1:30 tell us about the
nature of the Christ with whom the believer is united? In terms of
his developed argument in 1 Corinthians, Paul provides in 1:30
a preview of the 1 Corinthians 15:45ff. formulation in a greatly
compressed and encapsulated form, bringing a different set of
concerns into view. 1 Corinthians 1:30 previews 15:45ff. in the
sense that “life-giving Spirit” is the broadest redemptive category
that describes the resurrection life given to those in union with
the ascended Christ (with a decided focus on future eschatologi-
cal blessing), but 1:30 describes that same redemptive-historical
reality in the narrower categories of specific soteric benefits (with
the emphasis on realized blessings). This means that what Christ
“became” in his death and resurrection can be explained in broad
categories (i.e., life-giving Spirit) or narrowly aspectival soteric
categories (i.e., righteousness, holiness, and redemption).
How, then, are we to understand the predicate nominatives that
follow the relative clause, that is righteousness, holiness, and
redemption? The basic insight to grasp is that the “wisdom” Christ
has become for his people in 1 Corinthians 1:30 is characterized
by the soteric categories of righteousness, holiness, and redemp-
– 50 – – 51 –
Dr. Lane Tipton is associate professor of systematic theology at Westminster Theological Seminary. BA, Southwestern Oklahoma State University, 1992; MDiv, Westminster Seminary California, 1998; PhD, Westminster Theological Seminary, 2004.
1 Herman Bavinck, Our Reasonable Faith: A Survey of Christian Doctrine (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1956), 399–400 (italics mine).
2 George Knight, The Pastoral Epistles (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1992), 184–185.
3 Gordon Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians, New International Commentary on the New Testament, eds. Ned B. Stonehouse, F. F. Bruce, Gordon D. Fee (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1987), 86.
tion. Gordon Fee argues that true wisdom is to be understood in
terms of three different aspects of the same saving reality, namely,
what was accomplished for us in the redemptive work of Christ.3
What Fee suggests, then, is that the additional nouns that Paul uses
after the relative clause function to accent the various aspects of
the one fundamental saving reality that Christ has become for us
in his death and resurrection.
In 1 Corinthians 1:30, then, Paul speaks of union with Christ in
terms of Christ becoming for us wisdom from God, understood
aspectivally in distinct yet inseparable categories of righteousness,
holiness, and redemption. When we keep these things in mind,
we can make the following inference: just as Christ himself has
become for us the life-giving Spirit (1 Cor 15:45), so also Christ
contains within himself—inseparably, distinctly, simultaneously,
and eschatologically—righteousness, holiness, and redemption
(1 Cor 1:30). To be in Christ is to be in the one who has become
for believers the crucified and resurrected embodiment of all sav-
ing benefits. Therefore, there are no benefits of the gospel apart
from union with Christ.
– 52 – – 53 –
“Follow the pattern of the sound words that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. By the Holy Spirit who dwells within us, guard the good deposit
entrusted to you.”
2 Timothy 1:13–14
– 54 – – 55 –
inistry is never done in a vacuum. Understanding
where the church has been in the past is vital
to understanding where it is in the present.
Thus, every pastor, teacher, or counselor for
the church must have knowledge of the heritage passed
down from generation to generation. This is not to say
that the creeds and confessions of men are as authorita-
tive as Scripture. Yet it is short-sighted and against bibli-
cal wisdom to neglect the great advances and tragedies
the church has experienced through the ages. Christ’s
presence with his people, guiding them in truth, did not
begin yesterday.
Since this is the case, a mere survey of church history will
not suffice in training future church leaders. Our under-
standing of church history must be thorough. Idolizing
those who came before us is not beneficial to training for
pastoral ministry; we must highlight the strengths and
weaknesses of our heritage. Prideful hindsight must also be
challenged when studying church history—many sacrificed
more than will ever be asked of us. It is through the faith
and witness of our church fathers that we shall continue
to follow the patterns of sound words and guard the good
deposit handed to us.
M
– 55 –
WHY CHRISTIANS NEED CONFESSIONS
by Carl Trueman
Despite claims to the contrary, the Christian world is not divided
between those who have creeds and confessions and those who
just have the Bible. It is actually divided between those who have
creeds and confessions and write them down in a public form,
open to public scrutiny and correction, and those who have them
and do not write them down. The reason is simple: every church
(and indeed every Christian) believes the Bible means something,
and what it thinks the Bible means is its creed and confession,
whether it chooses to write its beliefs down or not.
Of course, those who argue that they have no creed but Christ
and no book but the Bible are usually trying to protect something
important and biblical: the supreme authority of Scripture in all
matters of Christian faith and practice. They rightly fear allowing
unbiblical traditions or ideas to impact the substance of what the
church believes. Yet I believe that, for all the good intentions such
people may have, that which they want to protect—the unique
status of Scripture—is actually best protected through explicit
confessional documents connected to a carefully thought-out form
of church government.
In fact, and somewhat ironically, it is those who do not express their
confession in the form of a written document who are in danger of
– 56 – – 57 –
elevating their tradition above Scripture in such a way that it can
never be controlled by the latter. If a church has a document that
says it is dispensational in eschatology, then we all know where
such a church stands on the issue of the end times, and we can
do the Berean thing and test the position by Scripture to see if it
is so. The church that tells you simply that its position on the end
times is the same as that taught in the Bible appears to be telling
you everything, but is actually telling you nothing at all.
In short, creeds and confessions, connected to a biblical church pol-
ity, are a vital part of maintaining a healthy New Testament church
life. Here are seven reasons why every church should have them.
Confessions delimit church power. In an age when words, especially
words that make truth claims, are always suspected of being part
of some manipulative power game, it is perhaps counterintuitive
to think of confessions as delimiting the power of the church.
Yet a moment of reflection makes it clear that this is exactly what
they do. An elder in the church has authority only relative to those
matters that the confession defines. Thus, if someone in church
declares the Trinity to be nonsense or commits adultery, the elders
have both a right and a duty to intervene. Both issues are covered
in the Westminster Standards. But if someone wishes to turn up
at church wearing a bright-yellow suit or decides to become a
vegetarian, the elders have no right to intervene. They might have
personal reservations about the person’s sense of appropriate dress
or wonder how anyone could live without the occasional burger,
but it is not the church’s business to address either matter. Indeed,
this is what stops churches from becoming cults: clear and open
statements about where church authority begins and ends, con-
nected to transparent processes of exercising that authority.
Confessions offer succinct summaries of the faith. If you have on your
bookshelf or in your pocket a copy of the Westminster Standards,
– 57 –
you have more theological punch per page than anything other
than the Bible. Theological tomes often seem vast and forbidding,
and few of us have the time to read them. Yet the Shorter Catechism
can be carried in a pocket, read through in a few minutes, and
easily memorized. It is an entire theological curriculum in an easily
digestible form. Of course, there are other books out there that do
similar things. But are there any that do it so efficiently and in such
an easily digestible form? The church with a good confession and
a good catechism has a ready-made pedagogical tool for instilling
the truth into its people.
History has proved this over and over again. Here, for example, is
a quotation from B. B. Warfield in 1909:
What is “the indelible mark of the Shorter Catechism”?
We have the following bits of personal experience from
a general officer of the United States army. He was in
a great western city at the time of intense excitement
and violent rioting. The streets were over-run daily by
a dangerous crowd. One day he observed approaching
him a man of singularly combined calmness and firmness
of mien, whose very demeanor inspired confidence. So
impressed was he with his bearing amid the surround-
ing uproar that when he had passed he turned to look
back at him, only to find that the stranger had done the
same. On observing his turning the stranger at once came
back to him, and touching his chest with his forefinger,
demanded without preface, “What is the chief end of
man?” On receiving the countersign, “Man’s chief end
is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever”—“Ah!” said
he, “I knew you were a Shorter Catechism boy by your
looks!” “Why, that was just what I was thinking of you,”
was the rejoinder.1
– 58 – – 59 –
And Warfield’s laconic postscript to that story is, “It is worth while
to be a Shorter Catechism boy. They grow to be men. And better
than that, they are exceedingly apt to grow to be men of God.”
The reason, of course, is that the Shorter Catechism is arguably
an excellent and concise statement of the whole counsel of God.
Confessions allow for appropriate discrimination between office-
bearers and members. There is some debate within Reformed circles
over exactly how much doctrinal knowledge should be required for
membership in a church. For myself, I believe Romans 10 indicates
that the bar should be set toward the lower, rather than the higher,
end of the spectrum. A basic confession, as long as it is combined
with a humble and teachable spirit, is enough.
Even if some disagree with setting the bar low, however, all should
agree that there is to be a difference between the degree of knowl-
edge required of an office-bearer and a new member. Where one
starts in the Christian life should not be where one finishes. There
is to be growth in maturity, one aspect of which is growth in
doctrinal knowledge, and the confessional documents of a church
offer a road map or aspirational framework that gives substance
and structure to this growth. The church with no confession or
with only the most minimal of doctrinal statements has the disad-
vantage of not being able to set before the people any biblically
ambitious vision of what a mature Christian’s theology should be.
Confessions highlight that which is of importance. One could perhaps
express this point in negative terms: if it is not in the confession, it
is going to be difficult to argue that it is of any great importance.
This is one reason why confessions should be somewhat elabo-
rate. If, for example, a church has a ten-point doctrinal basis or
confession, the problem the elders are going to face is how they
are ever going to convince their people that an eleventh doctrinal
point is really that important. If it is not in the confession, then
– 59 –
the church is functionally allowing for liberty of conscience on the
matter. For example, if the statement does not reference baptism
and thereby allows both paedobaptists and credobaptists to hold
office, then baptism as an issue has been made a matter of practi-
cal indifference. The same applies to any doctrine—perseverance,
sanctification, eschatology: if it is not mentioned, then the church
has no official position on it and it is relegated to being a matter
of minor importance.
Again, to return to the former point: the new convert or the new
member is not necessarily going to know at the moment of join-
ing the church what is important and what is indifferent. A good,
elaborate confession provides the church not only with a great
pedagogical map, but also with a fine resource for teaching the
people about what really matters and why.
Confessions relativize the present and connect us to the past. We
all know that Christianity is not reinvented every Sunday. We all
stand on ground that has been laid for us by many brothers and
sisters in Christ who have gone before us. Yet often we can be
tempted to live as if this were not true. This is hardly surprising,
as we live in an age where the antihistorical forces of the wider
culture are powerful and all-pervasive. Whether it is a commercial
telling us that the next purchase we make will bring us happiness
or science promising some great breakthrough that will ease our
lives, everything around us points to the future as that which is
most important and certainly as vastly superior to the past.
By contrast, Christianity is a religion rooted in history. It was con-
stituted by God’s historical actions culminating in Christ, and it
comes to us through the faithful articulation and preservation of its
message by God’s church throughout the ages. That is profoundly
countercultural and something of which we need to be constantly
reminded. Ironically, it may well be that those who claim no creed
– 60 – – 61 –
but the Bible are actually reflecting merely the spirit of our age in
all of its antihistorical triumphalism.
In this context, the use of creeds and confessions is one inten-
tional means of connecting ourselves to the past, of identifying
with the church of previous ages, and thereby of relativizing our
own significance in the grand scheme of things. The recitation of
ancient creedal formulas in the worship service is one practical
example of such. The affirmation of historic confessional standards,
as expressing the doctrinal commitments of the church’s office-
bearers and the content of the church’s pedagogical ambitions for
her membership, is another.
Confessions reflect the substance of our worship. When I teach my
course on the ancient church, I always emphasize that the dynamic
of early Trinitarian and Christological debates is doxological and
inextricably connected to Christian worship. Put simply, the early
church’s cry of worship, “Jesus is Lord!,” and the conjunction of
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in the baptismal formula point toward
a foundation of deep theology. They provided the context for the
discussions that would ultimately bear fruit in the Nicene Creed
and the Chalcedonian Definition. The church’s confessional tradi-
tion begins with reflection upon the meaning of acts of worship.
For two millennia, the worship of the church has not changed
relative to the fundamental points—that it is a declaration that
Jesus is Lord and that salvation is an act of the triune God, Father,
Son, and Holy Spirit—and our confessions explicate the content
of these points.
Thus, we should not think of confessions and the doctrine they
contain as being antithetical to vibrant worship. The possession of
a confession, of course, does not equate to vibrant worship, nor
does it guarantee it, any more than the mere existence of a legal
– 61 –
code guarantees a civilized society. Yet confessions are prerequisites
of vibrant and thoughtful worship, the things that make sense of
what we do as Christians.
This confessional function is likely to become more obviously impor-
tant in years to come. As other religions collide with Christianity,
and especially as some of those religions use the same kind of
biblical vocabulary that we use, it is going to be more and more
crucial that we understand not only what words to use, but also
what those words actually mean. Your friendly Mormon neighbor
might well agree with you that Jesus is Lord; he may even sing
some of the same hymns at his worship service. Thus, you are
going to need to know what exactly your church means when it
says “Jesus is Lord” or performs baptism in the name of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Good confessions enable you to do
that with greater ease than anything else.
Confessions fulfill a vital part of Paul’s plan for the post-apostolic
Church. As Paul wrote from prison to his protégé, Timothy, his
mind was focused on how the church was to manage once he and
the other apostles had passed from the scene. His answer had two
components: a structure in which the governance of the church
was put in the hands of ordinary but faithful men, and a form of
sound words. Both were necessary. Without structure, the church
would have no leadership; without a form of sound words, she
would drift from her theological moorings, losing touch with her
past and with other congregations in the present. A form of sound
words, a confession, was crucial for maintaining both continuity with
the apostles and unity among Christians in the present. And that is
what our confessional documents do today: they bind us to faithful
brothers and sisters in the past and with the same in the present.
The cry “No creed but Christ, no book but the Bible!” has a spe-
ciously pious and biblical ring to it, yet we should not be ashamed of
– 62 – – 63 –
Dr. Carl Trueman is professor of Church History at Westminster Theological Seminary. MA, St. Catharine’s College, Cambridge, 1988; PhD, University of Aberdeen, 1991.
1 B. B. Warfield, Selected Shorter Writings, vol. 1, 383–84.
being confessional Christians, for confessions enable us to maintain
certain biblical priorities. We should give thanks for this, even as
we try to show nonconfessional brothers and sisters a better way
of preserving the things that are of value to all Christians.
– 64 – – 65 –
“O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and
enter into his glory?”
Luke 24:25–26
– 66 –
hrist should be central to all preaching exactly
because he is central to all of Scripture (Rom
1:1–4; Gal 3:1–9; 1 Pet 1:10–12). A sermon’s
doctrine, application, organization, and deliv-
ery must rest upon the proclamation and explication of
“Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor 2:2). What a great
calamity it would be if we crafted beautiful sermons, but
remained “foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all
that the Prophets have spoken” (Luke 24:25).
At Westminster, we strive in our preaching to begin “with
Moses and all the Prophets” (Luke 24:27), interpreting all of
Scripture in relation to our Lord’s life, death, resurrection,
and ascension. This christocentric approach to preaching
does not ignore linguistic features, historical backgrounds,
or any other exegetically relevant information. Rather,
this approach places that information within the context
of the redemptive work of God in history, which climaxes
in the person and work of Jesus Christ.
C
– 67 –
PREACHING CHRISTby Iain Duguid
One of the most precious lessons I learned as a student at Westminster
Theological Seminary was how to preach Christ from all of Scripture.
I can recall vividly the first time I listened to a sermon by Ed
Clowney. I was sitting in the basement of the library with an old
cassette recorder and clunky headphones. From his introduction
(in which he delivered an ancient Egyptian poem in the style of a
contemporary pop song) to his Christ-centered conclusion, I was
captivated. From then onward, my lifelong quest has been to learn
how to preach Christ like that, and my education at Westminster
was crucial to that pursuit.
In this short essay, I want to think about the goal of preaching: to
glorify God by unfolding the gospel as the way to life for those who
are not yet Christians and the way of life for those who are believers.
First, my goal in preaching is to glorify God. According to the
Westminster Shorter Catechism, that is to be my goal in all of life,
and my life in the pulpit is no exception. My first goal is not to
convert sinners or sanctify saints. Those are legitimate secondary
goals, but it is important to keep the first thing first if we are to
avoid confusion and frustration. As I look around me in ministry,
I see many frustrated pastors. In seminary, they dreamed about a
church like the one in Acts 2, where the people were devoted to
the apostles’ teaching, to fellowship, and to outreach. But when
– 68 –
they got out of seminary, they discovered that the church that
called them was actually more like the church in Corinth or, worse
still, the church in the days of the Judges, in which each man did
what seemed right in his own eyes. These frustrated pastors hear
and read about other churches doing all kinds of innovative min-
istries, apparently packed with seekers and inquirers, while their
own churches consist of the same 75 sheep they have had for the
past ten years. And they get discouraged because they expected
bigger and better things.
Whether you are preaching to ten people or to ten thousand
people, you need to remind yourself each Sunday: “Whatever hap-
pens while I preach is God’s work, not mine, and he receives all
the glory.” That will help you not to get unduly puffed up when
people’s lives are dramatically changed and your church grows.
After all, you are just God’s divine messenger boy. If God can
speak through a donkey, as he did to Balaam (see Numbers 22),
there’s no great credit in delivering a message that he then makes
effective by his Spirit. This reminder will also help you not to be
unduly cast down if people do not seem to be particularly changed
by your preaching. Unless God opens up their hearts and makes
his Word effective in their lives, nothing you do will bring about
change. For your own sake, you need to be clear that the chief
end of your preaching is the glory of God.
Having the goal of preaching for the glory of God is also vital for your people’s sake. The preaching of Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones had a remarkable impact on J. I. Packer when Packer first heard it: it brought him, Packer said, “more of a sense of God than any other man.” That impact was not accidental. Lloyd-Jones would have thoroughly agreed with the New England Puritan Cotton Mather’s statement: “The great design and intention of the office of the Christian preacher [is] to restore the throne and dominion of God in the souls of men.”1 The reason is that this truth—the throne
and dominion of God—is the very heart of the gospel.
– 69 –
The gospel is not an announcement focused on us, with instructions
about what we need to do to be saved. Rather, it is an announce-
ment to us about God: who he is and what he has done to make
our salvation sure and certain, in spite of our repeated sin and
failure. We constantly need to be reminded that “Your God reigns.”
The original context of that declaration in Isaiah 52:7 makes it evi-
dent that “Your God reigns” is not simply a private announcement
for the encouragement of the oppressed covenant community of
Isaiah’s day. The goal of God’s deliverance of Israel is that “all the
ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God” (Isa 52:10).
Preaching for the glory of God therefore involves both proclamation
and acclamation. In acclamation, the covenant community accepts
and reaffirms for itself that “Our God reigns,” while proclamation
is our witness to others that “Our God reigns.” Preaching ought
to be both evangelistic and edifying, and it will be if it is aimed
at bringing glory to God.
One central way to achieve the goal of our preaching is through
the unfolding of the gospel story. The statement “Your God
reigns” has a context and a history that make it “good news.” The
context in Isaiah 40–55 is one of profound exile and alienation
from God. Joy is gone, and dancing is turned to mourning (Lam
5:15). In the midst of the pain, though, there is also a recognition
that Judah’s calamity was a consequence of her own sin. Herein
lies hope. If tragedy is not random but the result of God’s sov-
ereignty, then there may be hope of a new beginning, based on
God’s covenant faithfulness. God had committed himself to his
people in a way that must find fulfillment in spite of their sin.
“Your God reigns” is good news to those who know that God
is for them. This is precisely what Isaiah goes on to proclaim:
Israel’s reigning God would accomplish their salvation by means
of a suffering Servant. Their iniquity would be laid on him, their
transgression placed on his back: by his stripes, they would be
healed (see Isaiah 53).
– 70 –
But the Babylonian exile was simply a recapitulation of an older
story. Adam and Eve sinned in the garden of Eden by eating of the
forbidden fruit. As a result, they were alienated from God, exiled
from the garden, and made subject to the power of sin and death.
We have been in bondage ever since, unable to make our own
way back to God, unwilling even to seek him.
Yet exile and alienation would not be the end of our story. Rather,
God promised he would place enmity between humanity and the
serpent and that the seed of the woman would crush the serpent’s
head (Gen 3:15). Though that first sin had deep and profound con-
sequences, nonetheless God would ultimately transform the curse
into blessing. This is the context and history of the announcement
“Your God reigns” in our preaching also. Unless people grasp the
depth of their prior alienation from God, there is little good news
to celebrate in their reconciliation to God.
In addition to unfolding the gospel story, preaching must also apply
the gospel to the whole person and to the whole of life, answering
the question, “So what?”. Preaching is always inherently applicatory,
or it is not preaching. J. I. Packer puts it like this:
The purpose of preaching is not to stir people to
action while bypassing their minds, so that they never
see what reason God gives them for doing what the
preacher requires of them (that is manipulation); nor
is the purpose to stock people’s minds with truth, no
matter how vital and clear, which then lies fallow and
does not become the seed-bed and source of changed
lives (that is academism). The purpose is, rather, to
reproduce, under God, the state of affairs that Paul
described when he wrote to the Romans, “You whole-
heartedly obeyed the form of teaching to which you
were entrusted” (Rom 6:17). The teaching is the testi-
– 71 –
mony, command and promise of God. The preacher
entrusts his hearers to it by begging them to respond to
it and assuring them that God will fulfil His promises
to them as they do so.2
Under application, I am including both edification and equipping,
both the correct response of the mind to biblical truth and the
correct response of the life to the gospel realities. The goal is
to be hearers and doers of the Word, as James 1:22–25 reminds
us. Simply hearing the word of truth is not enough. That is self-
deception. Preaching is not effective if it is not first remembered
and then second put into effect.
So our task as preachers is always to apply the Word of God with
the goal that people’s lives are changed as a result. God’s truth is
never simply to be admired; it is to be absorbed and lived by. Nor
is this something unconnected to what we have said already, as if
the sermon glorifies God, declares the gospel, and equips the saints
as three essentially different movements. No, just as in Paul’s writ-
ings the imperative commands that typically make up the second
half of his epistles build on and flow out of the gospel indicatives
that begin his epistles, so too in our preaching the indicative and
the imperative moods belong together, with the imperative flow-
ing out of the indicative. The gospel is the root and foundation of
all true moral reformation, the heart of our justification and our
sanctification. God is glorified when we believe the gospel and
live a life that is in line with it.
This truth is not always well understood in the church today. When
I was writing a commentary on Ezekiel, my editor was concerned
that this “gospel-centered” approach to the Old Testament was
selling short the ethical imperatives of the prophet. I responded
with three simple points.
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First, the good news about Jesus’ death and resurrection is not
merely the power by which dead sinners are raised to new life;
it is also the power by which God’s people are transformed. The
gospel is not simply the starting point from which we move on to
ethics; it is the heartbeat of our lives as Christians. That is why Paul
could say in 1 Corinthians 2:2, “I decided to know nothing among
you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.” Presumably, Paul is not
saying that he only preached evangelistic sermons, while ignoring
the task of discipleship. Rather, he means that every sermon he
preached had a focus on the cross of Christ, the implications of
which he then drew out for every area of life. To put it simply, he
never preached Ephesians 4–6 (the ethical imperatives) without
Ephesians 1–3 (the gospel indicative). All of his preaching was
Christ-centered, because our sanctification and justification flow
out of our union with Christ.
Second, the Christ-centeredness of the Bible is not only the case
for the New Testament but also for the Old Testament. Recall
the words of Jesus on the Emmaus road. When Jesus caught up
with the two despondent disciples, who were leaving Jerusalem
unaware of the resurrection, he took them back on a tour of the
Old Testament Scriptures, saying:
“O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that
the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that
the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his
glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets,
he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things
concerning himself. (Luke 24:25–27)
According to Jesus, we should expect the message of all of the Old
Testament to be Jesus Christ! The disciples’ response was not to
be amazed at his cleverness in uncovering references to himself
in such a wide range of sources. Rather, they were astonished at
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their dullness in not having perceived before what these familiar
books were about. Nor was that simply his message on one par-
ticular occasion to those two disciples. Luke 24:44–47 gives us
the substance of his teaching to all the disciples in the climactic
forty-day post-resurrection period:
“These are my words that I spoke to you while I was
still with you, that everything written about me in the
Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be
fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand
the Scriptures, and said to them, “Thus it is written, that
the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from
the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins
should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, begin-
ning from Jerusalem.”
This is Jesus’ master class in Old Testament interpretation. Notice
the comprehensiveness of the language that Jesus uses: “Everything
written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the
Psalms must be fulfilled.” These make up the three comprehensive
divisions of the Old Testament, what Luke later designates “the
Scriptures.” In other words, the focus of Jesus’ teaching was not
a few “messianic” texts here and there but rather the entire Old
Testament. According to Jesus, the whole Old Testament Scriptures
are a message about Christ’s sufferings, his resurrection, and the
proclamation of the gospel to all nations.
Nor was the teaching of Jesus lost on his disciples. In 1 Peter
1:10–12, Peter explicitly formulates the principle that the central
message of the prophets is Jesus’ suffering and the glories that
would subsequently flow from that event:
Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied
about the grace that was to be yours searched and
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inquired carefully, inquiring what person or time the Spirit
of Christ in them was indicating when he predicted the
sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories. It was
revealed to them that they were serving not themselves
but you, in the things that have now been announced to
you through those who preached the good news to you
by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven, things into which
angels long to look.
Paul’s testimony before King Agrippa emphasizes the same message:
I stand here testifying both to small and great, saying
nothing but what the prophets and Moses said would
come to pass: that the Christ must suffer and that, by being
the first to rise from the dead, he would proclaim light
both to our people and to the Gentiles. (Acts 26:22–23)
For Jesus and the apostles, the message of the Old Testament is
Jesus, and specifically “the sufferings of Christ and the glories that
would follow.” To be sure, understanding this gospel will lead to a
new morality in the life of believers, it will motivate and empower
them for meeting the needs of a lost world, and it will engage their
passion for the return of Christ. But the heart of the Old Testament
is a witness to Christ, which centers in on his suffering and glory,
his death and resurrection.
Third, this Christ-centeredness of the whole of Scripture is impor-
tant in our contemporary context because it is the gospel alone
that has the power to change the heart. Most Christians know a
great deal about how they ought to live. Their problem is that
they don’t live up to what they know. The gap is not in their
knowledge but in their obedience. John Newton addresses this
problem in his letter “On the Inefficacy of Knowledge.” He urges
us to notice the amazing difference between our knowledge and
– 75 –
our actual experience. For example, we may be firmly persuaded
that God is omnipresent, but we don’t act as if that were true. The
presence of another human being—even a child—may lead us to
restrain our actions and behave well, yet our committed belief in
the presence of God Almighty doesn’t seem to hold us back from
sin.3 Knowledge of the truth is not enough.
How do we address this gap between knowledge and obedience?
Ethical sermons, no matter how accurately biblical their content, tend
simply to add to the burden of guilt felt by the average Christian
and yield little by way of results. The gospel, on the other hand,
has the power to change lives at a deep level, as men and women
come to see both the depth of their sin and at the same time the
glorious good news that Jesus is their substitute, who has taken
upon himself the punishment their sin deserved and has lived the
perfect life in their place. Freed from their guilt, freed from their
fear of failure, freed from their love of reputation, people are now
equipped to change. It is the expulsive power of a new affection,
as Thomas Chalmers once dubbed it,4 that brings about real, deep,
and lasting change in people’s lives, and to kindle this deep affec-
tion there is nothing better than a constant focus on the mysteries
and marvels of sovereign, divine grace in all its richness and depth.
So then, to sum up, biblical preaching is much more than instruction.
Its goal is doxological: that men and women might be brought to see
in a new way the glory of God and to bow their hearts in adoration
and praise. Such preaching will certainly change lives, but it will be
concerned even more fundamentally that God should be glorified
and the gospel of grace magnified. Like the apostle Paul, we pray:
Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than
all that we ask or think, according to the power at work
within us to him be glory in the church and in Christ
Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
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Dr. Iain Duguid is professor of Old Testament at Westminster Theological Seminary. BSc, University of Edinburgh, 1981; MDiv, Westminster Theological Seminary, 1989; PhD, University of Cambridge, 1992.
1 See John Piper, The Supremacy of God in Preaching (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004), 25.
2 J. I. Packer, “Why Preach?” in The Preacher and Preaching: Reviving the Art, ed. Samuel T. Logan (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2011), 9–10.
3 John Newton, “On the Inefficacy of Knowledge,” in The Works of John Newton (repr., Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 1985), 1:245–253.
4 Thomas Chalmers, “The Expulsive Power of a New Affection,” in Sermons and Discourses (New York: Robert Carter & Brothers, 1877), 2:271–277.
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We have compiled a list of resources that you may use to find more detailed informa-tion on specific subjects that were covered in the articles
throughout this book.
– 80 –
COVENANTALAPOLOGETICS
Edgar, William. Reasons of the Heart. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1996.
Oliphint, K. Scott. Covenantal Apologetics: Principles and Practice in Defense of Our Faith. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2013.
Van Til, Cornelius. The Defense of the Faith. Edited by K. Scott Oliphint. 4th edition. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2008.
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BIBLICAL COUNSELING
Lane, Tim, and Paul Tripp. How People Change. Greensboro, NC: New Growth, 2008.
Powlison, David. Seeing with New Eyes. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2003.
Welch, Ed. When People Are Big and God Is Small. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1997.
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REDEMPTIVE-HISTORICAL
HERMENEUTICS
Beale, G. K. The Temple and the Church’s Mission. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic Press, 2004.
Poythress, Vern. God-Centered Biblical Interpretation. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1999.
Vos, Geerhardus. The Eschatology of the Old Testament. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2001.
– 83 –
BIBLICO-SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY
Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion. Edited by John T. McNeill. Translated by Ford Lewis Battles. 2 vols. The Library of Christian Classics 20-21. Philadelphia, PA: Westminster Press, 1960.
Bavinck, Herman. Our Reasonable Faith: A Survey of Christian Doctrine. Translated by Henry Zylstra. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1956.
Gaffin, Richard B., Jr. Resurrection and Redemption. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1987.
– 84 –
CHURCH HISTORY
Trueman, Carl. The Creedal Imperative. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2012.
Nichols, Stephen. Reformation: How a Monk and a Mallet Changed the World. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2007.
Lindberg, Carter. The European Reformation. Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010.
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CHRIST-CENTERED PREACHING
Clowney, Edmund. Preaching Christ in All of Scripture. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2003.
Duguid, Iain. The Gospel According to the Old Testament series. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R.
Johnson, Dennis E. Walking with Jesus through His Word: Discovering Christ in All the Scriptures. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2015.
The Westminster Choice
Copyright © 2016 by Westminster Theological Seminary
Published by Westminster Seminary Press P.O. Box 27009, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania [email protected]
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the prior written permission of the publisher, except for brief quotations for the purpose of review or comment.
Cover design: Push10 Design
Printed in the United States of America
Scripture quotations in the first five chapters are from the translations in which they were quoted in the original publica-tions of the texts found in this anthology. Scripture quotations in the sixth chapter are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version, copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 1 is adapted from K. Scott Oliphint’s “The Irrationality of Unbelief: An Exegetical Study,” in Revelation and Reason, ed. K. Scott Oliphint and Lane G. Tipton, 59–73. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2006. ISBN 978-0-87552-596-9 Used by permission. P&R Publishing Co. P.O. Box 817, Phillipsburg, NJ 08865
Chapter 2 is adapted from David Powlison’s “A Biblical Counseling View,” in Psychology and Christianity: Five Views, ed. Eric L. Johnson, 2nd ed., 245–248. Downer’s Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2010. Used by permission.
Chapter 3 is adapted from G.K. Beale’s A New Testament Biblical Theology: The Unfolding of the Old Testament in the New, 241–247. Baker Academic, a division of Baker Publishing Group, © 2011. Used by permission.
Chapter 4 is adapted from Lane G. Tipton’s “Union with Christ and Justification,” in Justified in Christ: God’s Plan for Us in Justification, 24–34. Great Britain: Mentor, 2007. Used by permission.
Chapter 5 is adapted from Carl Trueman’s “Why Christians Need Confessions,” in New Horizons, February 2013, 3–5. Used by permission.
Chapter 6 is Iain Duguid’s “Preaching Christ.” Iain Duguid © 2016. Used by permission.