There are a couple of things to be drawn out of chapter ten, in which Piper argues (and in my view, demonstrates) that there is a single self-righteous root for both “self-help moralism” and prideful “ethnic badges.” That is the first point. But the second, and the one where I want to spend some attention, is in a discussion of a distinction Piper makes between hard and soft legalism which I think is troublesome.
The first thing is to simply reinforce the point I have been making, which is that Paul’s opponents, the Judaizers, were evil men, not misguided men. The central reason for saying this is that the New Testament says this in multiple places and in multiple ways. Wright acknowledges that their pride in their ethnic identity was a sin, but he does not put it in the same category of sin and rebellion as self-help moralism. The fact that they were clinging to ethnic boundary markers was a failing, and it was a failing that caused them to miss who the Messiah was, but he still wants to say that they were somehow still trusting in God’s grace as their central motivation. We have covered this ground before.
There are a couple of additional observations on this point. Wright wants to say that the “works of the law” (apart from which we are saved) are referring to ethnic boundary markers like circumcision and sabbath keeping, and not to works of the law with the moral law in view. But is this not dualism? Why would we think that a first-century Jew would carefully winnow out the duties of morality (which fill the Torah) from the ethnic badges of the Torah? Of course, sinners always do this with their external systems of religion, but they never admit it. The necessary integration of morality and ethnicity is pointed out by Simon Gathercole, who notes that in Romans 4:1-8 David (although he had all the boundary markers) was nevertheless described as “without works” because of his moral disobedience (p. 148).
Piper points out that if it is not from God, then it must be from man. If it is from God, then God will accept it. And if it is from man, then it has to be self-righteousness. Different examples of conceit, hubris, and arrogance can proceed from man, but self-will, self-righteousness, is the foundation of all sin. Being proud of ethnicity is not morally different than being proud of not drinking too much. Being proud of being a Jew is no different than being proud of being a Gentile. It’s all one. And because it was all one, the Judaizers — evil dogs, false brothers — were not living a life of gratitude for God’s grace. They were proud that they understood that God’s grace had been given to them as keepers of the law. They thanked God that they were not like other men. They missed the point utterly. As Piper put it, “their pursuit of Torah was not out of gratitude to God, but out of craving for human glory” (p. 154). In short, I believe that in this chapter a centerpiece of Wright’s argument is completely refuted.
That being the case, let me take issue with a point that Piper makes a couple times in his footnotes. His argument doesn’t depend on it, but I believe the ramifications of this mistake could be a big deal down the road. He quotes Stephen Westerholm with approval in one place (p.158), as Westerholm was making a distinction between hard and soft legalism. If I am understanding him correctly (and I admit that I might not be), Westerholm appears to be saying that hard legalism is motivated by hypocrisy, self-seeking and merit-mongering while soft legalism can be motivated by fear of punishment or love of God. He appears to be saying that the religion of Psalm 119 is an example of soft legalism, and that Deuteronomy 30:16 commands it. This may be a law/gospel thing, and I would be happy to stand corrected on what Westerholm is saying, but it really strikes me as odd. Piper pursues a discussion of soft legalism on the next page (p. 159) — and includes in it any who depend on their works even if they acknowledge that all of their good works are a gift from God. Now I would differ with such a position, and would think it a serious mistake, but I would have a hard time characterizing a view that was dependent entirely on the grace of God as formally legalistic.
I believe a distinction between hard and soft legalism could be a helpful one, but whether the legalism on paper is hard (no help from God) or soft (lots of help from God), the legalist’s heart, whatever kind he is, is always hard. A legalist is someone who trusts in the wrong thing, or in the right thing the wrong way. He is an idolater. As such, since he is not trusting in the living God, his heart is always hard. The soft semi-Pelagian who trusts in his contribution is just as hard-hearted as the hard Pelagian. That’s why they are both lost.
At the same time, the Christian world has plenty of soft legalists on paper, but who trust in Jesus alone for salvation, despite their theology. And we have lots of hard-grace types who trust in their understanding of hard grace instead of in Jesus. The world is an odd place.
I would like to conclude my post here by making an observation about how the controversy on the New Perspective on Paul has made its way through the Reformed and evangelical world. When Wright showed up to make his enormous contributions to New Testament scholarship (which he has certainly done), certain guardians of the flock in the Reformed world decided to discharge their office by soaking their hair with lighter fluid, setting it off, and running in place. They mushed all kinds of things together — NPP, FV, Norman Shepherd, and so on — and set off a general clamor. “The gospel is at stake, don’t ask me why! But run!” But others set about the task of engaging with the arguments, carefully, without hysterics, and where the arguments held, acknowledging the justice of them, and where they didn’t, demonstrating that. This can be done without rushing to accusations of heresy. On this particular point, I think that Wright is badly mistaken, and Piper is right. On other issues, noted before, I believe that Piper is badly mistaken (he won’t baptize babies, for example, no matter how cute they are), and Wright is correct. But if either of these gracious Christian gentlemen were to come to Moscow, they would both be most welcome to sit down at the Lord’s Table together with us. Even if they came on the same Sunday. I may be a fundamentalist, but I am a catholic fundamentalist.
The first duty of the minister in this kind of situation is to refute error. If he does so, and the error is a serious one, striking at the vitals of our religion, and the mistaken one won’t abandon his error, then it is time to consider whether discipline in one form or another might be necessary. But in this case, I believe that Wright is mistaken on some stuff, just like I think C.S. Lewis was. But I don’t believe the errors rise to a level where they justify charges of heresy. They should simply be answered, in the knowledge that if they are refuted (and not just denounced with dog whistles), the fad will pass. And in the meantime, the people of God will have been spared the spectacle of watching their shepherds in hysterics. “I can’t debate, I can’t answer, I can’t confute, but I can blog!”
I agree with James Hamilton’s observation that Wright’s dependence on Sanders’s “reconstruction of Palestinian Judaism is sagging” (p. 145). In fact, I think “sagging” is an understatement. So let the cycle of debate work its way through. Since we are speaking of Second Temple Judaism, let’s do the Gamaliel thing.