Justification and Concupiscence

Introduction

I was recently sent a copy of Ruined Sinners to Reclaim, a hefty book dedicated to a thorough treatment of total depravity. It looks marvelous. If you have any friends who are in the happy happy joy joy camp, you should perhaps think about getting this for them as a 918-page Christmas present. Should steady them up a bit.

The friend who sent it to me suggested that I interact with the Introduction and also with Steven Wedgeworth’s essay, in the light of my interactions with Jared Moore on the whole vexed issue of concupiscence. Having considered it, I think the counsel good. I believe there are still some niggling doctrinal bits that we have not yet found a good place for. And having read those two sections, it appears to me that Augustine hadn’t found a good place for them either.

Allow me first to summarize my position (yet again), and then interact with some of the observations in the book.

A Summary of My Position

Not all temptations are sinful. We know this because the Lord Jesus was tempted, yet without sin (Heb. 4:15). And when Adam and Eve were tempted, there was a point in that temptation where they had not yet wavered, meaning that up to that point they were still without blemish. Tempted, but no sin anywhere yet.

After the Fall, all unbelievers are dead in their trespasses and sins (Eph. 2:1-3). Converted believers, although brought to life in Christ, must still deal with their remaining sin, their remaining corruption, while also actively seeking to avoid the commission of actual sins, whether in thought, word, or deed. Reigning sin is to be no more, but remaining sin . . . remains.

The Westminster Confession, in addressing this topic, makes a clear distinction between our original corruption and what it calls “actual transgressions.”

Wholly inclined to all evil is not the same thing as consenting to any evil, a point to be developed shortly. But there is a clear line where that inclination becomes actual transgression. In the language I have been using, something “sinful” produces something that is “a sin.” An evil tree reveals its nature in the fruit it produces (Matt. 7:17-18). The nature of the tree (sinful) produces fruit in keeping with that nature (sins).

Contrary to the teaching of certain perfectionists, the reality of regeneration subdues this corruption of nature, bringing it under, but does not erase it entirely. It is always there.

This corruption of nature never goes away in this life. But the grace that is in Christ Jesus deals with it in two different ways—by pardoning and mortifying. Pardoning is found in the grace of justification, and mortifying in the grace of sanctification.

My corruption of nature, before it tries anything, is truly and properly sinful, and after it starts to move around, is “truly and properly sin.” The former can only be dealt with through the imputed righteousness of Christ, that is, through justification. The latter is necessarily part of my sanctification, and requires me, through the Spirit, to put to death my members which are on the earth (Col. 3:5).

So let us imagine a Christian fellow who has just awakened, and he is staring at the ceiling. He has not done anything yet, good or bad. He has been awake for thirty seconds, and the only thing he has done is to try to figure out what the dream of the flying bicycles was about. He has not been tempted to commit “a sin,” and he has not committed “a sin.” In that state, in that condition, does he still require the grace of Christ? The answer is yes, because “this corruption of nature, during this life, doth remain.” He is sinful because of his remaining sin, which is truly and properly sin, and the only possible remedy for such a thing is the imputed righteousness of Christ.

If he attempted to treat that condition as “a sin” requiring mortification, he is going to drive himself mad. The reason it will drive him mad is that this condition “doth remain” no matter what he does. He is as dirty after the shower as he was getting into the shower. This is not the case with “a sin,” meaning an actual transgression. That actually can be mortified, and with success. Progress is possible in sanctification, but there is no such thing as progress in justification.

If a man commits a sin, and seeks forgiveness, the aftermath of the confession is forgiveness and relief. He is seeking forgiveness for something he did. But if he tries the same approach dealing with what he is, he is going to spiral downward into despair. The only relief for the plague of what I am is the imputed righteousness of Christ.

The only thing he should attempt to do with this condition is to rest in the pardon that Christ has provided. Dealing with our corruption of nature > justification. Dealing with the motions arising out of that corruption > sanctification.

So with all of that in place, let us move to the gray area that has occupied us throughout the course of our discussion and debate. Back to our Christian fellow who just woke up. After sorting out the flying bicycle thing, his mind drifts over to Suzy Q, an attractive lady at work who dresses like a sale at Macy’s—20% off. She is a stumbling block to him, and he knows it. He suddenly remembers that it is casual Friday, and she is always bad on casual Friday, and because he is working diligently to deal with this temptation, he starts praying about it immediately.

Now is this situation part of “the motions thereof?” It most certainly is. Is it truly and properly sin? It most certainly is. Is it “a sin?” This is where our disagreement lies. I say no, and Jared Moore says yes. It should not be confessed as a sin, but it should be regarded as an aspect of a corrupted nature (without which she would not be attractive to him), a nature that deserves holy condemnation. The only reason that nature escapes condemnation is because Christ received that condemnation already, and the righteousness of Christ was imputed to him. As he lies there in bed dealing with it, his response should be to thank God for imputed righteousness.

So the issue is not whether concupiscence is sinful. Together with the Reformed tradition, I confess that it is. The issue is what kind of sin it is, and what kind of remedy should be applied to it.

A Few Comments on the Book

The introduction is by David and Jonathan Gibson, editors of the book. They say:

This is helpful. The condition of being sinful and the actions of sinning are distinct, but inseparable. Both require cleansing, but not in the same way.

They add:

To which I reply, yes but. Yes, it is all sin, but what kind of sin. What I am and what I do are all part of a piece, but they are not the same thing, even though both are sinful. I am not denying the point, but I do want further distinctions when it comes to application.

Steven Wedgeworth’s essay was really valuable. He begins with concupiscence as it appears in the New Testament (epithumia), which sometimes refers to corrupted desire and other times to innocent desire (e.g. 1 Tim. 3:1). He has an extended discussion of Augustine’s doctrine of it, which contained enough tensions to enable downstream Catholics and Protestants to both claim him. As Wedgeworth treats it, in various ways, Augustine made the distinction that I have been seeking to make.

And then there is this:

I would only add that consent is what is required for there to be the guilt for “a sin.” I want to maintain that there is a different sort of guilt that every sinner has for what he is by nature, a guilt that can only be addressed by justification.

Wedgeworth goes on to treat the development of Augustine’s thought in Luther and Lutheran theology, and then on into the Reformed tradition, best represented by the WCF 6, already quoted above.

All in all, I found this chapter most illuminating and helpful. The one place I thought that required a lot more treatment was the discussion of the Lord’s temptation.

I don’t believe this use of external and internal is helpful at all. It is of course true that Jesus did not experience the internal churn that a fallen sinner does—He did not experience inordinate desire or misdirected loves. But when He was tempted to misdirect His love, was there really no internal aspect to this at all? If all of it is simply external, in what sense can it even be called a temptation?

If I were to drive by a billboard inviting me to drive to the nearest Indian reservation in order to gamble away my paycheck, and the impulse to gamble in that way was left entirely out of my makeup, and so the invitation simply bounced off my forehead, in what sense could I drive home and tell my wife “I sure was tempted”? I was only tempted externally in that I saw the billboard. But that is not temptation, and far from giving me sympathy with those who struggle with gambling fever, it would be likely to have the reverse effect. I would want to say to them, “What’s the fuss about?”

Jesus fasted, and He was hungry (Matt. 4:2). That was internal. It was not an internal corruption, but it was still internal. This means that more distinctions are necessary in order to advance the discussion. There was an internal appeal involved with Adam’s temptation before he fell, and so it must be possible to feel the force of an appeal to sin without in any way sinning. That is what Adam should have experienced, and what Jesus did in fact experience.

This is an important discussion, and so I am leaving the comments open. We need trenchant comments about the relationship of temptation and sin, and so please do not derail the discussion. If you want to register your negative assessment of the Jews, I would invite you to take it elsewhere. We need discussion about sin here, not more illustrations of it.