In Chapter Two of Covenant, Justification, and Pastoral Ministry, David VanDrunen continues to sound the alarm. The doctrine of justification is “under fire” (p. 25), being attacked (p. 25), there are “three distinct lines of attack” (p. 26), and he concludes that “justification is indeed under attack” (p. 57).
He desires to describe the views of the attackers “accurately and fairly” (p. 26), and in some cases, he may have done so. The three lines of attack he mentions are modern ecumenical movements, the New Perspective on Paul, and Federal Vision stuff. I don’t have a lot to say about his treatment of the first two, but I do need to say something about the third.
He categorized those of us in this third “line of attack” as “self-styled Reformed church leaders” (p. 26), and we are leaders of the “self-styled federal vision” (p. 52). I am not sure what this means, but it sounds like we got our theological education in night school after teaching ourselves to read off of milk cartons. Kind of tacky to point out, even if it is true.
When he gets to our line of attack, he starts with Norman Shepherd. My point is not so much Shepherd’s position here as it is VanDrunen’s idea of refutation. Watch closely.
“First, Shepherd’s teaching denies, or at least redefines, the idea that justification is by faith alone” (p. 49, emphasis his).
And how is that? How does Shepherd deny this?
“In his book, Shepherd repeatedly stresses that justifying faith is an active, living, obedient faith. Given the context of debates over justification, such language is inherently ambiguous” (p. 49).
Then apparently the only way to get through ambiguous justification debates is to insist that we are justified by an inert, dead, and disobedient faith. That way all the glory goes to Christ, and nobody gets the wrong idea.
“In short, whereas Reformed theology teaches that faith alone, defined as an extraspective trust in Christ and his atoning work, justifies and that obedience, which is never to be confused with faith itself, inevitably flows from justifying faith” (p. 49).
Okay, let’s talk for a moment about this “flows from” business. The Bible teaches in multiple places that the nature of the source determines the nature of that which comes from the source. You don’t get pineapples off bramble bushes. Fresh springs don’t produce brackish water. Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks, and so on. If obedience flows from justifying faith, then obedience has to have had something to do with that justifying faith. Like begets like. God does not intrude the obedience a nanosecond later in a work of special creation. No — God establishes life with regeneration, and that life continues to manifest itself through the entire life of the believer in question, including in his justifying faith. God does not justify anyone because of what a fine job they are doing with their life, but He never used a dead faith to justify anybody.
VanDrunen continues to represent Shepherd this way:
“Furthermore, ‘a living and active faith is the fruit of the regenerating and sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit.’ Whereas the Reformation doctrine has always taught that sanctification is a fruit of justifying faith, here Shepherd says just the opposite — that faith is the fruit of sanctification” (p. 50).
Two responses. The first is to just quote Calvin. Work through what Calvin says here, and see if you can find in it what VanDrunen says the Reformation doctrine “has always taught.” The emphasis in bold is mine.
“Why, then, are we justified by faith? Because by faith we grasp Christ’s righteousness, by which alone we are reconciled to God. Yet you could not grasp this without at the same time grasping sanctification also. For he ‘is given unto us for righteousness, wisdom, sanctification, and redemption’ (1 Cor. 1:30). Therefore Christ justifies no one whom he does not at the same time sanctify. These benefits are joined together by an everlasting and indissoluble bond, so that those whom he illumines by his wisdom, he redeems; those whom he redeems, he justifies; those whom he justifies, he sanctifies. But, since the question concerns only righteousness and sanctification, let us dwell upon these. Although we may distinguish them, Christ contains both of them inseparably in himself. Do you wish, then, to attain righteousness in Christ? You must first possess Christ; but you cannot possess him without made partaker in his sanctification, because he cannot be divided into pieces (1 Cor. 1:13). Since, therefore, it is solely by expending himself that the Lord gives us these benefits to enjoy, he bestows both of them at the same time, the one never without the other. Thus it is clear how true it is that we are justified not without works yet not through works, since in our sharing in Christ, which justifies us, sanctification is just as much included as righteousness” (Calvin, Institutes, III.xvi.1).
Calvin is dealing with this topic in a sensible, pastoral, Christocentric way. He is doing so in a way that avoids the stopwatch problems with the traditional Reformed ordo salutis, if that ordo is conceived of in a clunky way. Calvin’s approach here harmonizes nicely, in my view, with Richard Gaffin’s treatment of the ordo in his book on the subject. (Have I mentioned that Gaffin blurbed Shepherd’s book, and that P & R published it?) The ordo is an illustration, a metaphor, meant to preserve a right understanding of God’s sovereignty in salvation. It is like a paper mache model of an atom, hanging above a fifth grade classroom. There is a point to the illustration, which must be grasped, but, once it is grasped, you ought to stop thinking of the atom as a teeny solar system.
That said, those who insist on living by the ordo will die by the ordo.
“For example, Shepherd reasons that because regeneration is the beginning of sanctification, hence saving faith (which is subsequent to regeneration) is produced by sanctification and, therefore, sanctification begins prior to justification” (p. 50).
VanDrunen mentions this argument which, given the ordo, is actually unanswerable. Regeneration (a change of heart) is prior to justification. The initial change of heart (definitive sanctification) is prior to the on-going change of heart (progressive sanctification), and justification is the meat in this sanctification sandwich. First comes a form of sanctification, a change of heart, which enables me to repent and believe. Because I have been changed in my heart, I repent and believe and God imputes the righteousness of Christ to me (justification). Now, given the constraints of the ordo, how is it that all subsequent sanctification must flow from justification only? Why can’t it flow from the earlier sanctification? And why are you not willing to say that the faith that is the instrument of justification in some sense flows from definitive sanctification?
The only response VanDrunen gives to Shepherd’s question is that of a twofold denial. First, he says that Shepherd clearly denies that good works are “entirely” the fruits of justifying faith. And second, he says that Shepherd clearly affirms that “sanctification actually precedes justification.” No. Shepherd is not saying this. Shepherd is simply pointing out that the traditional Reformed ordo says this. And it does, in kind of an undeniable way. It is simply astonishing to me that in a book like this, a writer could mention a potent argument like this, presented by his opponent, and then proceed blithely on without answering it, or even attempting to answer it.
If you go with the ordo, the model of the atom, some form of sanctification comes first. If you don’t like that, then don’t yell at Shepherd. Ditch the ordo, and declare that William Perkins, or whoever came up with it, crept into the Reformed camp four centuries ago to spy out our liberty. But if you keep it, don’t get upset with the people who pay close attention to what it says. But if you acknowledge that the ordo has some problems, then that leads to descriptions like Calvin’s above. But notice that Calvin doesn’t have good works flowing from a justification that is made of some completely different stuff. He has sanctification and justification simultaneously coming to the sinner from an undivided Christ. So you need to keep an eye on Calvin, along with that Perkins fellow.
One other quick point before I am done with this chapter. As I have said many times, I enthusiastically embrace the doctrine of imputed righteousness, and I affirm that the righteousness that is imputed to the believer is all the righteousness of Christ. What is imputed to me? Everything Jesus said and did, as well as His life of faith that was the spring of everything he said and did. I am justified by Jesus believing, by the faith of Jesus Christ (Gal. 2:18). That faith was the source of His sinless life and His sacrificial death. All of this is ours, imputed to us. His active and passive obedience both are credited to the believer, and to all His people. I trust that is clear enough.
But I reject, as enthusiastically as Rich Lusk does (p. 54), the idea of merit. If you want to maintain that Christ’s obedience belongs to His people, and is imputed to His elect, I am right with you. Not only do I agree, but would be willing to preach six sermons in a row on it, and I would have plenty of texts and to spare. If you want me to preach on “the Lord our righteousness,” it is the same, and I would gladly do it. Not only is it right, it is the need of the hour. But if you want me to preach a series of sermons on merit, then you are going to have to help me out. Where are the texts?