Home Advent Angels Calendar Christmas Church Contact Community Announcements Easter Health Heaven Heroes Humor Joyful Noise Music School Leadership Luther Research Modern Mystics Pastor Poetry Prayer Scripture Sermons Stories Submissions What Is Happiness?




Donald Juel's Starting Point

Supremely Modern Liberals by James Hitchcock

As Bad as We Get by A. J. Conyers

Luther's enduring words on marriage

Mainline Churches and Cultural Colonialism by David Steinmetz

Robert Gagnon: Gay Marriage as a Contradiction in Terms

Should We Support Gay Marriage? by Wolfhart Pannenberg

Jonathan Jenkins, We Can't 'Honor Each Other's Consciences'

Hermeneutics, Tradition and Holiness

Lutheran Sexuality Task Force Abdicates Responsibility

Links to groups working for a course correction

A RESPONSE TO THE REPORT AND RECOMMENDATIONS FROM THE TASK FORCE FOR ELCA STUDIES ON SEXUALITY

Robert P. George: When Nature Speaks

Solid Rock's Response to Bishop Ullestad

Be Fair to Liberals

Reorganizing Religion: Why the Church Bureaucracies Have to Go

that sheep may safely graze

A House Divided by Robert Benne

On open letter from Robert Gagnon to the ELCA and beyond: A Critique of ELCA Recommendations and Study Guides on Homosexuality

A FAITHFUL JOURNEY THROUGH THE BIBLE AND HOMOSEXUALITY by Robert A. J. Gagnon, Ph.D.

Prospects and Alternatives by Dr. James A. Nestingen

All face the call and the cross

The Wisdom of the Church




    Some thoughts from David Yeago to a Revisionist on Luther's understanding of the nature of sin ...

   As is obvious from Romans 6, one reason for rejoicing in our redemption in Christ is that under the rule of grace, we don't have to do evil anymore. Our bondage to sin expresses itself precisely in the commission of evil works (of thought, word, and deed): "For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do" (Romans 7:19).

   Romans 7 is so terribly Jewish. Our tendency is to read v. 20 and say, Oh, well then, if "it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells in me" then I am off the hook, the "real me" is innocent. But that is precisely not the conclusion Paul draws. It's the deed that makes the difference. I can delight in the law all day long in my inmost self, but as long as what I do is evil, I am a slave, I am wretched, and the state of my "inmost self" is meaningless. The contrary point is true too, of course: the worship of the hand without the heart is equally meaningless. But for Paul, it runs both ways: the heart and the hand make up a life, not one without the other, so that the renewal of the nous is fulfilled in the offering of the body to God (Romans 12).

   Lutherans today are not very good readers of Romans 8, at least not till we get to the part about groaning in pain. The whole ductus of Romans 6-8 comes to a climax when Paul says that in the flesh of Jesus God condemned sin "so that the just requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit." Since the end of Chapter 5, he has been dealing with the objection that proclaiming a dominion of grace which supplants the dominion of Torah will leave righteousness out in the cold, righteousness in a very Jewish sense that definitely includes our deed, what we do with our "members," (Romans 6:19), our bodily life in the world. These chapters are not mainly about guilt and forgiveness; they are about what Luther calls the inauguration of "holiness on the earth" (Large Catechism, Third Article), which, Pauls says, happens not through the dominion of the Torah but through the dominion of grace.

    Luther is also utterly clear about this. The treatise in which the doctrine of simul justus et peccator is first worked out at length is Against Latomus from 1521. Luther makes the point about the struggle against particular sins precisely in the context of arguing that there is a remnant of the "bondage of sin" left behind in the baptized which renders us simul peccator. One of his most important arguments is to point to New Testament talk about particular sins, and say: "See, the Apostle says that these are sins in believers, not weaknesses."


   It is for this reason that in Rom 8:13 and Col 3:5, Paul recommends the putting to death of what is earthly; that is, such things as anger, passion, and covetousness. He uses unmistakable terms, not simply speaking of sin, but calling it by its names: anger, passion, covetousness. Yet these new linguistic authorities would persuade us that these are not the names of either faults or sins, for the Apostle is writing to saints and believers (LW 32:207).
One of his key arguments also comes from Romans 6:12 and 14. "This must be understood as referring not to the sins of others, but to our own sins, for who can resist the sins of others, or prevent another from sinning?" (p. 208).

   This point is bolstered by Luther's argument about the simul. In what sense is the believer a sinner? In the sense that, because there is still sinfulness in the believer, he or she can only stand before God on the basis of undeserved mercy for Christ's sake. But this does not mean that the believer is a sinner in an unqualified way, that baptism and faith leave the bondage to sin untouched. On the contrary, as Paul says in Romans 6:12, the sin that is in believers does not rule, but is ruled over; it is not peccatum regnans but peccatum regnatum.

   What is the meaning of this distinction? Obviously, one meaning is that this remnant sin can no longer separate the believer from God's favor (so long as the believer is a believer, that is, clings to Christ). But that is not all that it means that sin is "ruled over." "It must not therefore be said that baptism does not remove all sin; it indeed removes all, but not their substance. The power of all, and much of the substance, are taken away. Day by day the substance is removed so that it may be utterly destroyed" (pp. 208-209). It is one thing to say that sin is present in the saints, but quite another to say that it rules in the saints, and "Luther never talks of sin reigning in the saints" (p. 210).

There is another aspect to Luther's teaching in this treatise that is ignored by many Lutherans today. Luther quite explicitly denies that anyone who is not fighting against the sins the New Testament identifies can have the comfort of the simul justus et peccator. As Otto Pesch, the great Catholic Luther scholar, once put it: there is a big difference between a peccator who is simul justus and an out-and-out impius, an ungodly person. How does Luther establish this difference without reintroducing works-righteousness?

He does so by developing the doctrine of justification with three interrelated terms, drawn from Romans 5:15: "the grace of God and the free gift in the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ." I don't vouch for what follows as exegesis of that verse, but I do think it is excellent theology. The point to remember is that for Luther these are three distinct ideas, (1) the grace of God, (2) the free gift, and (3) the grace of Jesus Christ. The third term, the grace of Jesus Christ, is Christ's personal God-pleasingness, the favor he has with God for his obedience, suffering, and death. Christ is the one who is in God's favor, and we receive the twofold blessing of grace and the free gift insofar as we cling to him. The grace of God is familiar to us: it is the unmerited favor of God who receives us into his fellowship out of sheer mercy for the sake of the one to whom we cling.

   The neglected element in Luther's account is the "free gift," which plays the key role in making sense of his account of the simul and "ruled-over sin." The gift is simply enough faith. Faith is our very clinging to Christ, by whose grace we are accepted into God's favor. But this same faith is a new life, it is indeed "the true righteousness which is the gift of God" (p. 227):

   Faith is the gift and inward good which purges the sin to which it is opposed. It is that leaven which is described in the gospel as wholly hidden under three measures of meal (Matt 13:33). The grace of God, on the other hand, is an outward [i.e. relational] good, God's favor" which is opposed to wrath.


    It is through this righteousness, which faith is, that the gospel "heals the corruption of nature." "Almost always in Scripture this righteousness which is contrary to sin refers to an innermost root whose fruits are good works. The companion of this faith and righteousness is grace or mercy, the favor Dei," which ends God's wrath.

   Now think about what Luther has said here. That in us which clings to Christ is identically that in us which struggles against sin. It follows therefore that no one in whom there is no struggle against sin is received into the favor of God. Luther is very up-front about this, and draws conclusions from it in ways that are bound to make contemporary Lutherans skittish. Here I need to give my own translation of a passage on p. 229:

   To be sure for grace there is no sin, because the person as a whole pleases God; yet for the gift, there is sin, which it cleanses away and overcomes; but also a person neither pleases nor has grace except on account of the gift which labors to cleans away sin in this manner.

   If you replace "gift" with "faith" in that last clause, and leave only "a person does not please God except on account of faith" you have a perfectly standard Lutheran utterance. What makes Luther something besides a standard Lutheran is that he remembers just at this point that faith is "a busy, living, active thing" and draws the necessary conclusions. What he says sounds so startling that it led (I can only guess) my own teacher to mistranslate another statement of the point on p. 236. The Luther's Works translation says:

Observe that this faith is the gift of God, which the grace of God obtains for us, and which purging away sin, makes us saved and certain -- not because of our works, but because of Christ's -- so that we can stand and endure in eternity, even as is written, "His righteousness endures forever" (Psalm 112:3). But the italicized phrase is not what Luther says. The Latin is: "ecce haec fides est donum dei, quae gratiam dei nobis obtinet." The whole phrase needs to be translated:

Observe that this faith is the gift of God, which obtains the grace of God for us, and which purging away sin, makes us saved and certain -- not because of our works, but because of Christ's -- so that we can stand and endure in eternity, even as is written, "His righteousness endures forever" (Psalm 112:3).


This text, of course, brings us to the $6400 dollar question: if it is the gift of inward righteousness (= faith) which obtains the favor of God, are we therefore justified by our inward righteousness? It would be odd if Luther said yes, since the whole burden of Against Latomus is to argue that our inward righteousness does not avail to make us righteous before God.

   Luther avoids a legalistic conclusion by holding together the twofold character of faith as clinging to Christ and gift of righteousness. Indeed, it is the clinging which is the righteousness, and therefore the righteousness of faith is never left by itself, but is always joined to something infinitely greater than itself, Christ himself, the Righteous One.

    For although [God] has justified us through the gift of faith, and although he becomes favorable to us through his grace, yet he wants us to rely on Christ so that we will not waver in ourselves and in these his gifts, nor be satisfied with the righteousness that has begun in us unless it cleaves to and flows from Christ's righteousness, and so that no fool, having once accepted the gift, with think himself already contented and secure. But he does not want us to halt in what has been received, but rather to draw near from day to day so that we may be fully transformed into Christ (p. 235).

    Now, this seems to me one of the greatest paragraphs Luther ever penned. Everything comes together here. A righteousness has begun in us, but the point about that righteousness is that it is a cleaving to Christ and sharing in what is his. So we can never, unless we are fools, look at that new righteousness as something disconnected from Christ himself and think it sufficient. If we do that, we have just thereby turned away from reliance on Christ, the struggle with sin ceases, and we lose the favor of God. Progress in sanctification and persistence in putting our trust in Christ's mercy alone are the same thing: clinging to Christ. If we are clinging to Christ we are simultaneously relying on him and he is living in us, his righteousness flowing into us, so that the struggle against sin never stops until we are "fully transformed" into him.

    Therefore whenever Paul preached faith in Christ, he did so with the utmost care to proclaim that righteousness is not only through him or from him, but even that it is in him. He therefore draws us into himself and transforms us, and places us as if in hiding "until the wrath passes away" (Isaiah 26:20).... Observe, faith is not enough, but only the faith which hides under the wings of Christ and glories in his righteousness (pp. 235-236).

   It is this faith, he goes on to say in a passage already cited, that obtains the favor dei, the grace of God.

    To come back around to the dispute from which I took flight, what deals with the bondage of sin and what deals with "sins" is the same thing: Christ offered in word and sacrament and grasped by faith. Luther says explicitly that the gift, by struggling against the root of sin in us, brings it about that we commit fewer sins. He certainly wants to guard against the idea that Christians are sanctified only by refraining from outward wrongs; that would be like "shaving hair where it will grow back again." "The gift of God is not like this, for it works at killing the roots and cleanses, not the act, but the person himself, so that venial faults cease, or at least multiply less luxuriantly"  (p. 233). "Venial" faults here are the particular sins against which believers struggle, as discussed above. It is therefore the faith which clings to Christ which is our freedom from bondage, since it is Christ living in us by the Spirit who labors to cleanse us of wrong desire, to free us for good works and at the same time free us from evil works, from "faults" or particular sins.