PART I, ARTICLE II: COUNTING THE COST, SECTION III

Excommunication 

That excommunication could be part of the cost that a would-be disciple must count on paying, will seem odd only to persons who are not acquainted with ‘all the counsel of God’ (Acts 20.27) and the fulfillment of prophecy in history. The apostle Paul, in that passage, testifies that he has ‘not shunned’ to preach any facet of God’s truth. Excommunication is one such facet. When the Church of God was in its infancy, and to no small extent made up of Jews who recognized and received Jesus as the Messiah, the synagogues were frequented by Jewish saints for worship and debate. Saul (afterwards named Paul) ‘preached Christ in the synagogues, that he is the Son of God’ (Acts 9.20.) Jesus had prophesied that the Jewish leaders, for the most part, would not receive the message that the Messiah had come. “They shall put you out of the synagogues” (John 16.2.) Some disciples would be scourged there (Matthew 23.34.) And it would become a common thing for Jewish leaders to kill those who preached the Gospel of Christ. 

If the Jews had received their Messiah en masse, the synagogues would have become meeting places for disciples. Due to persecution, disciples met in homes, often in secret; eventually they met in buildings constructed for the purpose of that special kind of worship called ‘Christian.’ People who go to church today do not expect to be rejected or put out. There is no need to count on being excommunicated these days, is there? In fact, there is; if a disciple is faithful, he may be driven out; he should count on it happening. Though certain persons ought to be put out of God’s churches, like grossly immoral persons and heretics, they often enter in and remain. The apostle Paul warned about ‘grievous wolves’ who would ‘enter in among you’ after his departure (Acts 20.29.) Wolves not only enter in, they work themselves into the core in order to govern churches built for sheep to worship God in. If they are not ministers, they often hold sway over the ministers. An excommunication for the purpose of punishing an offender (1 Corinthians 5; 2 Thessalonians 3) and protecting a congregation from his noxious influence is so rare today that I have never heard of it being done even once in twenty-five years in my city of more than two dozen churches. This is astonishing in a city as sinful as this one is. Our city is crawling with sin, and there is no indication that sin will soon begin to vanish through preaching. A cockroach does not scurry away unless the lights are turned on. The light that we need is gospel light, and we don’t have it. Fornication and perversity are celebrated here, and pastors dare not disallow impenitent persons from proudly parading up and down their aisles and participating in church as redeemed sinners. Regrettably, when excommunications are executed, they are usually done against sheep, not wolves. But Jesus said that we should count on that happening. An excommunication of this sort may be done without the congregation’s knowledge or consent. The act may be informally done; that is, not in so many words, for the ministers, or executioners, know that they are in the wrong. They pay a visit to the orthodox threat, speak like politicians about how the member is free to worship elsewhere and how that would be best, given the controversial nature of stirring up the issue in question; and, before the member even realizes what the visit is for, he is ‘put out of the synagogue.’ If you have no knowledge of your church excommunicating a member for a sin like idolatry, fornication, railing, drunkenness, or extortion (1 Corinthians 5.10, 11), then it is almost certain that wolves are in charge of your church and that obedient sheep are the ones who have cause to fear. A Protestant Christian may not be happy worshipping beside couples living in sin, begetters of bastard children, flamboyant dromedaries, and arch heretics that Creeds are for singling out. But if he takes the matter up with his pastor, he will, almost certainly, be told to never mind; if he persists, he will be asked to leave, and he will be unceremoniously excommunicated. Excommunication is another cost to be counted among would-be disciples. 

When a church—one might nearly say any church—is steered toward a more biblical course, the man leading the way will be confronted; possibly he will be stopped and excommunicated. This happened even to the good and great Jonathan Edwards when he tried to reform a practice that his grandfather had corrupted. For his attempt to regulate the admission to Communion in order to bar those who were sincere but not saved, he was forced out of his own church. If one of the leading agents of the Great Awakening was turned out of his living; that is, after revivals had blown through the land through his instrumentality, any man might be excommunicated, and we should not be surprised when it happens. Sometimes a man, because of his orthodoxy and zeal, does not even get a chance to preach in the very branch of God’s Church that he was ordained by. Both George Whitefield and John Wesley, the leading evangelicals abroad during the Great Awakening, were ordained by the Church of England. Neither one, however, was allowed a pulpit in that Church. This means that they were effectively, though not officially, excommunicated. One of the benefits of knowing the history of the Church, not just the general sweep of it, but in the specific, is the strength that may be garnered from it through solidarity. It is easier to bear excommunication, whether formally by a word, or not in so many words informally, when some of God’s greatest men have borne it before us. 

After John Hus was excommunicated for preaching against the vices of the Roman clergy, and for refusing to recant his opposition to dogmas such as Transubstantiation and Papal Infallibility, he looked to the future for strength and uplift: “I am more afraid of the greatest of all excommunications, viz. that by which the Sovereign Pontiff, in presence of angels and men, will eternally excommunicate the wicked from all participation in eternal beatitude…whoever shall excommunicate a man from temporal interest or pride, or in order to revenge himself of some injury, and against his conscience, excommunicates himself” (John Huss, Letters, p. 211.) The Sovereign Pontiff spoken of in this passage is the Lord Jesus Christ, not the pope. The Only Infallible High Priest will decide whether or not we have deserved excommunication. Heavenly orders are on their way to repeal many excommunications; the LORD’s veto will not brook an objection; illegitimate excommunicators will be overawed by a Superior Executor.

PART I, ARTICLE II: COUNTING THE COST, SECTION II

Privation

To follow the way of life and the path of righteousness, a person must be prepared to deprive himself of the ways of darkness and the paths leading to sin. If he resolves to do that, he must count on being deprived by sinners who walk in darkness and for whom sin is a la mode. In other words, if you separate yourself from cultural excesses, you run the risk of being shut out of things that you did not even separate from. If you refuse to join in song because you think rock music is a poor replacement for hymns, for example, you may be blocked from teaching Sunday school. 

There are many false ideas of privation. It is folly to embark on a mission across the sea before first making sure that we are in the ark of salvation, which must be by faith alone in Jesus Christ alone; but this is what thousands of priests have done. They have taken privation as a way of salvation instead of a way of life for the saved. Monks and priests are still doing this today. They board the sinking ship of works, and take up their oars to produce their deeds. But their oars are weak instruments, and their rowing is not equal to the wind they face. Falling backward instead of making headway, and thus missing out on the encouragement that progress yields, their privation falls into distrust and disuse. Then, perhaps giving in to dissipation, they proceed to the end of their lives despairing. Going to heaven on the strength of Roman Catholicism is as futile as trying to cross an ocean with rosary beads for oars. “But in all things approving ourselves as the ministers of God, in much patience, in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in imprisonments, in tumults, in labours, in watchings, in fastings” (2 Corinthians 6.4, 5.) This is a good description of privation, but only on the basis of having received the grace of God, not vainly, as through baptismal regeneration, but actually (verse 1.)

Some disciples don’t even go in for privation. Consequently, they are not deprived by others, not for their faith, at least. Yet, in spite of it all, or I should say, in spite of so little given up or taken away, they think themselves followers of the Lord. They go on a mission to Zimbabwe to put a building up, not once fasting during the week that it takes to do it. And yet they think they’ve suffered deprivation by flying to Africa and back on the wings of a jet.           

It might seem romantic to have to be fed, as Elijah was, by ravens through the interposition of God. But imagine how hungry a person has to get in order for such a divine initiative to take place. Imagine having to eat carrion dropped from the beak of a bird! “And the ravens brought him bread and flesh in the morning, and bread and flesh in the evening; and he drank of the brook” (1 Kings 17.6.) This is an experience of privation. Churches would be emptied of hypocrites if the price of continued membership included just a few days of imitating Elijah during the time of 1 Kings. Like a wild animal, the apostle Paul had to endure being driven from pillar to post in the matter of basic sustenance. “I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need” (Philippians 4.12.) To live from paycheck to paycheck can be stressful, for nothing can be laid up for a rainy day that way. Nevertheless, that steady income yields the blessing of stability. To live, however, in this manner: sometimes adequately, sometimes barely, and never sumptuously, is the experience of privation. Like a lynx or a coyote, the apostle Paul ate when he could—when food was available, which was far from always. By being regularly put to this elastic exercise, he came to the point at which he was happy at the prospect of giving thanks at an empty table. He kept under his body, God supplying him the opportunity of practice through privation. God supplied him the mean of mastering his body through a mean (scanty) supply. I recall a story in which the following question was put to a member of an outpost: “What do you do when you run out of food?” His answer: “We proclaim a fast.” We should not be unused to privation.

Privation is frequently, if not usually, the consequence of persecution. If a disciple is dismissed by his family because of his faith, which commonly occurs in eastern countries, he may soon be as needy as Elijah was. The privations experienced by John Hus, the Reformer, rival those of both Elijah and Paul. Before his burning at the stake, the Roman Church tried, as hard as its most wicked officials could, to extinguish his faith by removing his comforts. “Ten spans above the water you’ll see a small hole riveted thereto a grate of thick iron bars, through which, when the waves beat high, foam and drops splash into the dark chamber where Hus is sitting…I saw the poor prisoner…huddled at my feet in the foul straw. Upon a ledge stood a bowl with porridge, upon which lay a black, wooden spoon; next to it stood an earthen jar, near it lay a crust of bread. When the prisoner lies down, his head and his soles almost touch the walls. His clothing is falling to pieces and if he wants to relieve his bowels he must sit upon a round stonehole, from which a bestial stink rises, until the high water forces the excrements from the vault, which often happens only after three or four weeks…Hus was led out of his dungeon into a decent chamber, but his feet almost refused to carry him, he swayed as he walked; listless and unused to the day was the light of his eyes, deathly pale his cheeks and loose what was left of his teeth, since eleven had fallen out due to the damp prison. The nails on his fingers were terribly long, because he had been unable to bite them off for many weeks; upon his skin was a crust of dirt which exuded an awful stench and his otherwise brown hair fell in white ringlets upon his rotting and torn garb. His shoes had rotted upon his feet and his shirt and loincloth had vanished. The rounded flesh which had covered his bones had shrunken and shriveled and he had become a picture of woe without equal, unrecognizable to those who had known him before” (Poggius the Papist, Hus the Heretic, pp. 12-14.) This is a biblical portion of privation—worse treatment than what Dostoevsky received in a Russian gulag, and equal to any affliction in any German concentration camp.       

In our modern time in the West, God allows us an exceptional measure of liberty where food, accommodation, care, and comforts are concerned. We may live quite large depending on the abundance of our culture, government subsidies, charity, and the profits we make through labor. Privation not being our lot, therefore, it is up to us to learn to be abounding and yet suffer need by the practice of mortification. Through this exercise, we instruct ourselves to keep under our body—to master our bodily needs and desires. And the fact is: “Just so much meat and drink should be used as to reinvigorate the powers, not to oppress them” (Cicero.) It is discouraging to observe Christians never depriving themselves of whatever they want whenever they want it. To be always full to satisfaction is what leads to ennui. What is ennui but weariness caused by satiety? When anything we desire is readily had and indulged, we soon tire of everything, which is an irreligious humor in the face of God’s bounty. A Christian complaining of not knowing what to cook on account of being tired of all foods, what does he need but a bout of privation from a chastening God? Why not fast sometimes? Why not eat ‘bread of affliction’ (1 Kings 22.27) one day in the week? Or why not pick an even more chastening food? My personal favorite is ‘beans of ‘affliction,’ which concoction I came up with for its humiliating, mortifying effect. A soup made with nothing but lentils and mung beans, with a little salt, will buoy the soul by abasing the body. Bible reading and prayer open up by closing the door on preoccupations. Denying our belly turns our thoughts upward through spiritual exercises; this facilitates the denial of other sins than gluttony. “The eye must fast from impure glances. The ear must fast from hearing slanders. The tongue must fast from oaths. The hands must fast from bribes. The feet must fast from the path of the harlot. And the soul must fast from the love of wickedness” (Thomas Watson, The Doctrine of Repentance, p. 52.) It is worth knowing, also, that privation caused by dietary issues, if we have them, or unexplainable malaise if we have that for our cross, is as much from God as privation through persecution. The Christian should remember to give thanks for this, for privation works toward humility, and humility is one of the chief virtues to lead us to that ‘secret place of the Most High’ (Psalm 91.1), the sanctum sanctorum, or holy of holies. And what is that but a sense of God by the Holy Ghost? What does this sense include but inexpressible joy, and peace beyond human understanding? Believers who have been in that sanctuary know where it is, what it is, and how heavenly it is to be there. Our limitations are not accidental; and they are meant to be instrumental. It is comforting to assume that a limitation is on account of discipline from God; and the assumption has a fair probability of being correct, given the sinners that we are. Regardless, what is it that we suffer from that is not, at the very least, by God’s permission? But if we are not put to a hard lot, it is up to us to not be too used to ease. The reader of Church history will have noticed that great preachers were accomplished mortifiers. Of John Bradford, the 16th century martyr, John Foxe relates, “He did not eat above one meal a day, which was but very little when he took it; and his continual study was upon his knees” (J. C. Ryle, The English Reformers, p. 131.) Is this not glaringly unlike the practice of today’s Christians generally? Is it not at variance in particular with Christians feasting in restaurants after service on the Sabbath? Do we believe the Sabbath to be for rest and worship when we, by having strangers cook and serve us food on that day, contribute to this holy day being profaned? Would a Christian like John Bradford not make most of us uncomfortable because of our lack of rigor and godliness? A would-be disciple should be advised to count the cost of privation, or self-denial when privation is lacking, for which behavior he will be avoided or hated by easygoing churchgoers—churchgoers who have never so much as heard that there is a cost to count.

PART I, ARTICLE II: COUNTING THE COST, SECTION I

 

The passage in which we find the term ‘counteth the cost’ does not point us to each and every hardship that would-be disciples ought to count on enduring as pilgrims on an alien planet on their way into God’s eternal kingdom. These hardships must be sought out and studied; then, by seekers who are convinced that they have been chosen by God to be disciples, these hardships should be expected. These were my thoughts as I meditated on this verse in consideration of today’s easygoing religion that churchgoers call ‘a relationship.’ Christianity indeed involves a relationship—the most important relationship that a sinner needing to be saved can have, and the one that he had better be found to have had at the Great and Terrible Day of the LORD. But there is more to being a Christian than having a relationship with God; much of it is unsavory meat, which anyone who feasts on the Bread of Life is bound to be served.  

“For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it?” (Luke 14.28.)

Jesus’ parable, wherein would-be disciples are admonished to count the cost, is particular to the Gospel according to Luke. It is a parable of two similitudes. The one that I quoted concerns the building of a tower; the other one concerns a military campaign. Each similitude is told in order to drive home the same lesson: Reckon what it costs to be a disciple, for by a rash decision to identify as one, you might soon find yourself over your head, and, finally, cast out by God as worthless (verse 35.) “The ungodly are…like the chaff which the wind driveth away” (Psalm 1.4.)

Does this warning remind us of any part of a contemporary sermon? I don’t maintain that today’s evangelistic efforts do no good. But what do we hear during campaigns? We hear, in effect, just this: Come on down the aisle to get saved, and don’t so much as pause for a second to count the cost or to give your decision a second thought. Do altar callers ever warn sinners to count the cost? Could we discover even one pulpit today from which the sinner is cautioned about what he might be getting into by calling himself a Christian? 

Jesus was more concerned for the welfare of souls than he was eager to gather a large following. This is one key difference between him and our church-planting ministers and decision-making evangelists. He didn’t count the number of ‘decisions’ that were made on account of his preaching. What was Jesus aiming, by his parable, to prevent? Why not encourage as many sinners as possible to become disciples, and leave it at that? What is the worst thing that could happen to false disciples but a future in hell? If a sinner is on his way to hell already, why should he not be encouraged to take a stab at being a disciple, even without counting the cost? The reason is that hell is not the worst possible outcome for a sinner. The worst possible outcome is a greater degree of punishment in hell, which is the end that awaits anyone for having failed, or for having pretended, to be a disciple. Worse than never professing is to profess and then be found a fraud. Worse than never professing is to profess and then deny the faith. It is worse to be a hypocrite than an infidel; it is worse to be an apostate than an infidel. 

There are degrees of punishment in hell, or, if you prefer, in the lake of fire where hell, with its woebegone inhabitants, is destined to be cast. Some sinners will receive more stripes, or lashes, than others (Luke 12.47.) Hypocrites and apostates are the best examples of sinners who will be lined up to receive a greater measure of retribution for sin. Those who fall away from the faith are like the man whose reformation does not take; in the end such men are made worse instead of better (Hebrews 6; 2 Peter 2.20.) “The last state of that man is worse than the first” (Matthew 12.45.) If his last state is worse, his time in eternity must be worse. The beam in the eye is worse than a particle in the eye; this teaches us that hypocrisy is worse than sin generally (Luke 6.42.) There are lies, and there are ‘lies in hypocrisy’ (1 Timothy 4.2.) Only the inattentive Bible reader will not have noticed that Jesus reserved his sharpest criticism for hypocrites (Matthew 22.18; 23; 24.51.) True, the Pharisaical hypocrites did not profess to be Jesus’ disciples. But they professed to be the guardians of the religion that Jesus was the fulfillment of. Had they been truly the guardians of it, they had received its prophesied Saviour. They feigned to be what they were not; therefore they were hypocrites. A hypocrite denies in his heart or in secret the faith that he professes with his mouth; an apostate is a hypocrite who finally denies the faith openly, either by mouth or deed. “But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel” (1 Timothy 5.8.) This is to deny the faith in deed. The best known exhibits of apostasy in our day are such actors as Tony Campolo and Hank Hanegraaff, better known as ‘the Bible Answer Man.’ In his latest book, co-written with his atheistic son, Tony rejects the Inerrancy of Scripture, the Trinity, the Atonement, and fundamental doctrines generally. I will be cautious to clarify that it is my opinion that he does it, for he does not do it straightforwardly. Well, sometimes he is more straightforward than he realizes. “By the way, I believe that Jesus and the Holy Spirit are one and the same, and both are expressions of God the Father” (Tony Campolo & Bart Campolo, Why I Left, Why I Stayed, p. 134.) This is a blunt denial of the doctrine of the Trinity. The Trinity is a fundamental doctrine. No person can be saved who denies it. The doctrine of the Trinity is put into our Creeds for this reason. For his part, Hank has lately embraced the legalist faith of Greek Orthodoxy, which is nothing but a version of Roman Catholicism. Such men as Tony and Hank do not like the fact that the cross is offensive to sinners (Galatians 5.11.) They cannot tolerate being labeled offensive on account of cleaving to Christ. Has either one of these men suffered privation or persecution because of his profession? It looks like neither one is willing to risk it. The gospel and virtue have become less acceptable to stand for than formerly; these men would rather transmogrify than testify; they are more like chameleons than Christians. Tony, for example, has become increasingly terrified of offending the LGBT crowd. Unless he becomes a conservative Christian, he will be terrified to an infinite measure hereafter.    

To be a disciple indeed, one has to abide in Christ, not only while being applauded and materially recompensed (which favors both Tony and Hank have abundantly enjoyed), but even when facing frowns. The disciple who can’t laugh at frowns, what would he do before threats of a mortal kind? In the time of the apostles and immediately thereafter, it was popular for political powers to persecute disciples unto death. Jesus knew what his followers were going to be subjected to. He warned of what was coming; he prophesied it. “And ye shall be betrayed both by parents, and brethren, and kinsfolks, and friends; and some of you shall they cause to be put to death. And ye shall be hated of all men for my name’s sake” (Luke 21.16, 17.) There is no salvation for any person who quits the faith or denies the Lord. “He that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved” (Mark 13.13.) A hasty attachment to the cause of Christ is hazardous in a time of mortal persecution because grace cannot be expected to help that soul abide whose faith is false. To commit apostasy is worse than never professing; apostasy is nothing else than hypocrisy exposed or confessed. In the time of Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, “a certain Christian, named Quintus, lately come out of Phrygia, having been shown the wild beasts and threatened with being thrown to them, quailed with fear, and, to save his life, gave in…this man had, more hastily than wisely, rushed up, with others, before the tribunal; and thereupon being taken, afforded by his apostasy a signal warning to all, not to venture on such trials fool-hardily and without counting the cost” (John Foxe, Acts and Monuments, Volume I, p. 672.) We quail like Quintus at the thought of being brutally and fatally persecuted; but we must remind ourselves of what a stand for God requires, trusting that he will provide the grace to stand in such a predicament. Possibly excepting mass murderers and the like, false professors and apostates will face greater judgment than anyone else. Therefore, we should not be surprised that Jesus would have each sinner count the cost before calling himself a disciple. 

It is not normative for God’s people to be left at ease by his enemies. To count the cost was instinctive during the times of Noah, the Patriarchs, Moses, Joshua, the Judges, the Kings, the Prophets, the Messiah, the Acts, and during most centuries thereafter. Times of favor toward the saints of God have been few; the rule has been persecution; a comparative exception to the rule would be the 19th century in the British Empire and the USA. But no matter how favored Christians are generally, whether this much or that, sinners ought to reckon the cost of joining the Christian camp. With the Bible at large for my guide, I see four standard ways, or aspects, of counting the cost. In counting the cost, the would-be disciple should have in mind: the experience of privation, the possibility of excommunication, the trial of desertion, and the certainty of some degree of persecution. Privation is through circumstance; excommunication is by a local church; desertion is an act of God; persecution is from nominal Christians and the unbelieving world; while the remnants of corruption and the devil’s demons assist, in each aspect, to astonish and discomfit. When a genuine disciple begins to pay the cost that he has counted on paying, his resolve may weaken for awhile; this is the devil’s opportunity to insinuate unfairness in God in order to make the disciple sin or even deny his faith, which would thus discredit the Christian Faith. Grace being stronger than sin, however, the countervailing force of God will help the disciple to overcome. Grace reigns ‘through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord’ (Romans 5.21.) When the disciple receives the treatment that he has counted on receiving, his faith will be, at length, corroborated and reinforced, and by God’s grace he will persevere.

PART I, ARTICLE I: THE END OF MAN, SECTION III

The End of Man: Eternal Life

Eternal life through Jesus Christ

“But the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Life is conscious vitality. Life involves activity and a capacity for growth. Life that is eternal is all of this internally, externally, tirelessly, and perpetually. By definition, eternal life is life that comes from a realm where life is not limited either by space or time, much less to a body that tires, wears out, and eventually dies. 

There are several Greek words that are translated ‘life’ in our New Testament. The ‘life’ in Romans 6.23 is ‘zoe.’ This life is the same life that God granted to the Son (John 5.26.) It is the life that the Son manifested unto men (1 John 1.2), which life was sinless (2 Corinthians 5.21.) Sinless life is what the saints will have by virtue of grace from God and faith in Christ. There is a singularly informative association between life that is eternal and life on earth. ‘Zoe’ is frequently used to describe life in its earthly environment. From ‘zoe’ we have zoology, for example. Yet every time ‘life’ is mentioned in the New Testament beside the word ‘eternal’ or ‘everlasting,’ the ‘zoe’ life is used. There is a good reason for this. There will be earthly features to our eternity with God. ‘Zoe’ is used in conjunction with ‘eternal’ and ‘everlasting’ to underscore this truth. Eternal life will not be some airy existence without form. Saints will not merely fly to and fro, never coming into contact with anything; their spirits will be blessed with glorified bodies. Eternal bodies will differ from earthly bodies, but not wholly. Persons who go to heaven will have resurrected bodies; these bodies will be spiritual rather than earthly, but bodies nevertheless. A spiritual body does not mean an immaterial one. These bodies will be like unto the body of the resurrected Lord: flesh and bone rather than flesh and blood (Luke 24.39.) Having been redeemed by the lifeblood of Jesus to live without circulation of blood, these bodies will be capable of consuming supernatural sweetmeats. Though Jesus’ body no longer constrained his human nature to space or time after he rose from the dead, he still partook of earthly pleasures. For instance, after he appeared, he ate food (Luke 24.) There will be food and drink for these bodies. There will be “a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations” (Revelation 22.1, 2.) This is a partial description of life in the New Jerusalem that is to descend from heaven. As I understand it, though certainly imperfectly, resurrected saints, with their glorified bodies, will live there, and will share its riches in some association with a new earth. All will drink, and all will eat. Eternal life will be tangible and tasty. The vision is too holy for us to apprehend but a little. This life will be the glorious future of those who are written in the ‘Lamb’s book of life’ (Revelation 21.27.) This life will be appreciated by its recipients in a way that Adam and Eve could not have appreciated it, had they never sinned and had never been ejected from the Garden of Eden where the tree of life was. Eternal life is best appreciated through grace and sacrifice: through unmerited favor and the death of a satisfactory Substitute for sinners. The Lamb died so that we could be granted it. So this life will be one of humble gratitude for salvation from deserved misery. The recipients of it will not have deserved this life. They will not have gotten it through obedience, unless by obedience is meant that of Jesus Christ. They will forever look to the impeccable life and meritorious death that made their never-ending happiness possible. Whatever was greatest to be merited, it was merited by Jesus Christ: by his immaculate life and redeeming death. Glory to the Man of Sorrows for causing everlasting gladness to wretched multitudes by his incalculable agony! Ita oportuit intrare in gloriam suam. (Thus ought he to enter upon his career of glory.) 

Speaking of the infinity of God, Hodge the son, of Princeton, remarks, “Obviously, no bounds can be drawn around the boundless” (A. A. Hodge, Evangelical Theology, pp. 10, 11.) What wonder does that simple comment cause! If God willed to confine himself to within the limits of a certain boundary, he could just as easily decide to cross over it. And so he would be boundless even while bound. God, in the second person of the Trinity, did something like that on the cross and in the resurrection. He suffered his body to be bound and killed; but essentially he was, even then, as free and illimitable as he was from everlasting, giving proof of this by taking up his life again (John 10.18.) His crucifixion was more than the death of an innocent victim; it was the predetermined porthole to an infinity of life and merit, through the justification that he worked out in that terrible death; the perfection, pledge, efficacy, and testimony of this justification was his self-resurrection from the dead (Romans 4.25; 1 Corinthians 15.17.) His death for sin is the source of lives of infinite duration; sinners may live blissfully forever because of the boundless measure of his merits. “For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Our sins became his so that his life could be ours. We have earned death by the wages of sin; he has earned life by the wages of obedience. This life is our gift through faith in his obedience. He obeyed the law that we broke; he offered himself to die in our place. Sinners who break the law instead of obey it need a substitute to satisfy their legal requirements and to cancel the wages that they have earned. This is what was Jesus did for all sinners who close with him by faith.        

While death is best understood in conjunction with sin, life is best understood in conjunction with death. Death informs life. The death of Christ informs the eternal life that a saved sinner will enjoy. Therefore, to enlighten us on the subject of this life, Paul spoke in terms like these: ‘baptized into his death’—‘buried with him by baptism into death’— ‘crucified with him’—‘in the likeness of his death’—‘dead and freed from sin’—‘dead with Christ’—‘alive from the dead’ (Romans 6.) One cannot understand eternal life except by a knowledge of death—the death of Jesus Christ, because this death is the sinner’s freedom from everything that forbad his entry into the holy presence of God, where nothing that hurts can hinder, and where all our heartaches are healed. An ancient proverb truly says: “The fate of a kingdom often depends upon the act of a moment.” The fate of God’s kingdom hung upon the act of suffering on the cross; and the fate of every sinner hangs on his trusting, or not, in the victory over sin upon that cross. Eternal life was being won in Jesus’ dying; it was fully won the moment he announced, ‘it is finished’; and now each sinner must have his moment of appropriating, by faith, all that Jesus has to give, or else his moment, once lost, must lead to unrelenting anguish. What is faith? Here is a comprehensive definition of it: “Faith is a firm persuasion by which we assent to everything which God has revealed to us in his Word and by which we rest fully assured that the promise of the free mercy of God extends to us for Christ’s sake” (Zacharias Ursinus, Commentary on the Heidelberg Catechism.) It follows that we need to know what is in the Word that we assent to; therefore we must read it. In the Bible is the way of life that we need. What is saving faith, more specifically? “It will not save me to know that Christ is a Saviour; but it will save me to trust him to be my Saviour” (C. H. Spurgeon, Faith.) This is the way to eternal life.    

Though the full experience of this life is in the future, this life is the present possession of any sinner who has faith in the Son. “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life” (John 3.36.) He has it; he has it right now; he has it right now by believing. By believing right now, it is as certainly his as the word of God is sure. Jesus is ‘the resurrection, and the life’ (John 11.25.) By believing in him, this life may be ours (John 20.31.) This is as true as the word of God is trustworthy. 

Two astonishing facts about this life are that it is, as Romans 6:23 states, ‘the gift of God,’ and that this very fact is a stumbling-block. The majority of people, me included many years ago, are unwilling to believe that working to obtain eternal life does not work. If eternal life is the gift of God, it is an insult to God to try to obtain this life by effort. Such work, instead of being reckoned to a person’s credit, is ‘reckoned of debt’ (Romans 4.4.) Commentators are either vague about this verse or they’re in a tangle about it; well, we know that it means this at least: salvation by works is a roadblock. The word ‘debt’ in Romans 4.4 is the same word used in ‘forgive us our debts’ (Matthew 6.12.) So working for salvation is a sin that we need forgiveness for. On the one hand, our wages for sin is death; on the other hand, we are in debt for trying to earn life. These concepts together form an amalgamated mindbender. The reason for concepts like these occurring in the word of God in despite of paradox is this: In Scripture, the subject of money is used in profusion to teach spiritual realities because sinners love ‘the root of all evil,’ which is money (1 Timothy 6.10.) Is it not wonderful that God would stoop to what we love the most in order to teach us what we need the most to learn? We have earnings that buy death; we have debts for trying to earn life. We can’t win for losing: we have too many earnings of sin; and trying to buy eternal life puts us in debt; therefore we must die the death. We must die for our sinning; and we can’t live by buying. We have earned death; we can’t buy life. Salvation is not obtained by works, but by grace. Only by the undeserved gift of God can eternal life be the end of man; while working for life incurs debt, faith is counted for righteousness (Romans 4.5.)       

‘Through Jesus Christ our Lord’—these are the final words of Romans 6.23. Jesus is the only access to eternal life. He is the gate; he is the door. We enter in thereat; or we enter not at all. He rose from the dead; and, in the Bible and through the preaching of it, his life is offered to sinners. A person does not need to worry about the impending doom of physical death, neither the horror of hell that follows death, nor yet the lake of fire that is the end of man, if only he will receive Jesus and be made alive in the spirit.

Eternal life, if we want it, is behind Jesus Christ, and we must go through him to get it. Eternal life and Jesus Christ are inseparable. To have one, we must receive the other. If eternal life is desired, Jesus Christ must be received; if Jesus is desired, we must receive his life by faith. Eternal life is by way of Jesus. This is well demonstrated by the apostle in the following phrases: ‘saved by his life’—‘shall reign in life by one, Jesus Christ’—‘even so might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord’—‘the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus’—‘the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord’ (Romans 5.10, 17, 21; 8.2; 6.23.) Eternal life is through Jesus, in Jesus, and from Jesus. This life is nowhere connected to Mary or any other saint as if it may be received through one of them. That Jesus Christ is on a level infinitely higher than mere mortals is obvious from history. Even Jesus’ enemies called attention to his unusual, incomparable character. The officers who were sent by the Pharisees and the chief priests to apprehend Jesus: “Never man spake like this man” (John 7.46.) Pontius Pilate, the Roman procurator of Judea, who delivered Jesus over to be scourged and crucified: “I find in him no fault” (John 18.38.) The Roman centurion, with others that were with him, after observing how Jesus died and the strange events that suddenly happened then: “Truly this was the Son of God” (Matthew 27.54.) This all agrees with the revelation in the Gospel of John by Jesus Christ himself: “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me” (John 14.6.)

When people muse about science finding a way to live forever, what they mean is the prospect of living ‘in the body’ as they do now. Few of these people realize that the body, now cursed to die, once had the potential to live forever; and that the Bible now promises, not only life in heaven, but life in the body as well. This is why the Apostles’ Creed affirms: “I believe in…the resurrection of the body….” The life of a physical body is in the blood. The life of an eternal body is by the blood of Jesus Christ. It is only through faith in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ that eternal life may be received. He is the only way to ‘newness of life’ (Romans 6.4.) Through Jesus Christ our Lord, eternal life can be the end of man: ‘the end everlasting life’ (verse 22.)

PART I, ARTICLE I: THE END OF MAN, SECTION II

The End of Man: Death

Sin and Death

“For the wages of sin is death.” The ‘wages’ of sin implies that we work for sin. Sin is the work that earns its wages, which wages amount to death. In verse 17, it is pointed out that those in Rome ‘called saints’ (his name for them in 1.7) were formally ‘servants of sin.’ Death is earned by serving sin. Sinners are workers for sin and servants of sin. 

One of the Old Testament definitions of ‘sin’ is to ‘miss.’ To sin is many things. To sin is at least this: to miss the mark, to fall short of God’s standard, to come shy of perfection, the corollary of which is to not be granted eternal life. Fallen man is like an archer aiming for the center of a target. The center of the target represents God’s standard of perfection. The prize offered for hitting the bull’s eye is eternal life. The penalty for not hitting it is death. “See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no god with me: I kill, and I make alive; I wound, and I heal: neither is there any that can deliver out of my hand” (Deuteronomy 32.39.) And so, “Sinners are the very mark that God will shoot at; they are his standing mark, and he never misses the mark” (Thomas Watson, Sermons of the Great Ejection, p. 156.) The sinner fails to hit the bull’s eye because he is imperfect; born in sin, he has an inherent inability to hit the mark. Maybe the best way of stating this inability is the way it is put in verse 23 of Romans 3: “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” It is difficult to glean much from what the concordance tells us the word ‘glory’ means in the New Testament. But in the Old Testament the word usually means ‘splendor’ or ‘magnificence.’ And we know that the meekest saint on earth in the time of Moses—Moses himself—could not approach the glory of God (Exodus 33.) The characteristic of ‘glory’ as far as sinners are concerned, is that it is unapproachable; and it is unapproachable because sinners are reproachable; they are scoundrels through and through. Nothing that sinners do is without taint of sin. The head of Moses shone because of a sideways glance at the ‘back parts’ of God’s ‘goodness,’ merely one attribute of God’s manifold glory. Moses had been blinded or worse had more of God been seen. Saul of Tarsus was blinded by ‘the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ’ (Acts 9; 2 Corinthians 4.6.) The Lord was then ‘dwelling in the light which no man can approach unto’ (1 Timothy 6.16.) The holy Moses could not look at one attribute of God directly; the unconverted Saul could not look at the glorified Lord without injury. Sinners, whether saved or not, cannot approach the divine glory on their own initiative; neither can they do so with impunity. Their very approach is a sin. All sin involves transgression against divine majesty. “Sin is an injury to God. It violates his laws. Here is crimen laesae majestatis (grievous high treason)” (Thomas Watson, The Doctrine of Repentance, p. 107.) No one comes to God without sin because no one can come to God without being a sinner. This is why God must be approached through the Sin-Bearer, the Lord Jesus Christ, who cloaks repenting souls with the protection of his very own righteousness. Though Jesus dwells in unapproachable light, he is approachable through trust in his person and sacrifice, his life and death. The Creator must be got to through the Son; then the Creator becomes our Father.         

When it becomes known to us that sin is sin only because of who our Creator is in comparison with it, our sins are rightly perceived as being against divine holiness. So when David confessed to committing adultery and murdering the husband of the woman that he had lain with, he exclaimed, “Against thee [God], thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight” (Psalm 51.4.) Sin, regardless of who commits it and to whom it is directed, is primarily against God. Immediately following this verse we learn that man is more than a sinner. David continues, “Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me.” Man the sinner is sinful from the start. Man begins his life in sin. Sin is inherited. Relating men to Adam, their earliest ancestor, Paul says that ‘by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners’ (Romans 5.19.) The inheritance of sin, along with its guilt, stretches all the way back to the first man.

Whatever is contrary to the law of God is sin. This includes the moral law as revealed in the Bible (Romans 7.7) and the law which God has written in our hearts (Romans 2.15), which is there called ‘the work of the law.’ Ignorance of the law is no excuse because this ignorance does not wholly exist. Each sinner has been convicted of wrongs that he has done. This conviction has been the work of God’s law on his conscience. It is a hazardous thing to suppress this conviction because a violated conscience may result in a seared conscience that will no longer respond to conviction, which conviction a sinner needs to lead him to repentance and life. Sin is against the law; it is a work that earns its wages; and these wages are death. 

Sin is both internal and external. It dwells inside of us and it manifests in motion. The Bible speaks of ‘sin that dwelleth in me’ (Romans 7.17) and ‘the motions of sins’ that work in our members ‘to bring forth fruit unto death’ (Romans 7.5.) In this verse the sinner is identified as being ‘in the flesh.’ The works of the flesh are sinful. These works are those that are summarized in Galatians 5.19-21, including such popular sins as envy, strife, carnal behavior, murders, drunkenness, and witchcraft (which comprehends drug use.) Some things are sins and we do not even realize it. Unbelief is a sin (John 16.9.) So to not believe in the Son, whose sacrifice may cleanse our sin, is itself a sin. Neglecting to do the good that we know that we ought to do is a sin as well (James 4.17.) And we sin by thought, word, and deed; we are infected in every part of our person. “Now the law of God requires a complete conformity to its precepts in our acts and in the whole frame and state of our minds, and where this is not found, condemns us as sinners. Experience, as well as the word of God, teaches that man’s mind in its unrenewed condition, instead of being illumined with the rays of truth, is replete with horrible darkness; that his will is turned in aversion from God and indulges enmity towards him; that the affections are perverse; and that in all the powers there is a horrible ataxia (disorder) and depravation so far as relates to spiritual things” (Princeton Versus the New Divinity, p. 97.)

Sin is imperfection; it is inherited; it runs through us like a virus; it involves us in guilt; it is done by commission and omission; it is done through words, deeds, and thoughts; it is done primarily against God; it is against his law; it includes numerous works of the flesh that are offensive to God; not believing on Jesus is a sin; apathy is a sin; neutrality is a sin; sin dwells in us and goes out from us; sin is the evil that men do; innate sinfulness is what causes man to miss the mark of God’s holiness. ‘The wages of sin is death.’

It is highly probable that each sin can be classified under one of three categories: ‘the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life’ (1 John. 2.16.) Sins through the flesh, the eyes, and pride may each be noticed in the sin of Eve in the Garden of Eden, recorded in Genesis 3.6. Eve saw that the tree was ‘good for food’: the flesh; she saw that it was ‘pleasant’: the eyes; she ‘desired’ it to be the mean of making her ‘wise’: pride. She was not envious, earthy, and proud before she sinned, of course; but she opened the gate to all three by eating what she had been forbidden to eat.  

Man, made in the image of God, has been affected by sin in every aspect of his person. Man is a rebel. Rebels do rebellious things. For this reason the world is a risky and dreadful place in which to live. Man acts wickedly because of sin; and though the world has become a fearful place to dwell in through his sin, he continues to work for sin’s wages. He sins because it is his corrupt nature to do so. And he does not like to be reminded of being a sinner who sins. Therefore he tends to not cultivate this true knowledge of himself as a sinner in rebellion against his Maker. Man today has less knowledge and conviction of sin than he used to have. The distinction between good and evil is largely in the past now. For instance, I once witnessed a man walk through a supermarket in his long underwear. Nobody but myself and the woman I was with seemed to notice. And I recently remarked to one of my relatives, “Are you wearing nothing but underwear in public?” He answered in the affirmative and was bewildered when I told him that it was wrong to do so. The proverbial dream in which a person realizes with horror that he is naked in a public place is now only shameful in the subconscious; that is to say, men shamelessly do in public what they are ashamed of in dreams. This is where man is at. He has been trivializing sin for so long that his conscience is hardly pricked.

To sell his goods, the merchant uses sin as a gloss in his advertisements. To boost his ‘bad boy’ image, the young man screws a plate on his truck that reads, ‘Evil, Wicked, Mean, and Nasty.’ The schoolgirl has sexual relations because she is afraid of being teased for being a virgin. The boy exaggerates his own sexual exploits because a boy is not respected among his peers unless he is perceived as a deviant who uses girls to satisfy his urges. Sin is viewed as a virtue in societies veering toward hell.

Man underestimates sin or denies that he does it. God emphasizes sin and he particularizes it. The word ‘sin’ occurs about three times more often in the Old Testament than does the word ‘love’; and it is not far surpassed by the word ‘love’ in the New Testament. The word ‘sin’ occurs over 100 times in the New Testament, over 40 times in Romans alone, and in 16 of the 23 verses of chapter 6. Yes, it is easy to find another word for love, such as ‘charity’; but it is just as easy to find another word for sin, such as ‘iniquity.’ The word ‘charity’ occurs in about 30 verses in the Bible, while ‘iniquity’ occurs over 250 times. Compare also, how many times the words ‘sinful’—‘sinned’—sinneth’—‘sinner’—‘sinners’—and ‘sins’ occur in the Bible against the words ‘loved’—‘lovest’—‘loveth’—‘loving’—‘lovingkindness’ and ‘lovingkindnesses.’ The ‘sin’ words make a longer list by far than the ‘love’ words. Moreover, the ‘love’ words often have to do with the love of God, not of man; while the ‘sin’ words are laid to man’s account every single time except when laid to the account of fallen angels, which is only occasionally done. When sins are said to be laid on Jesus Christ, it goes without saying that they are not his own. Anyone who has read the Bible will have noticed that evil deeds predominate over charitable ones and that a sinful disposition is noticeable even among the holiest of saints—even Noah and Moses. Sin is a major theme throughout the Bible because sin is against God; and God, through his infallible word, would remind us of that. Sin is the reason that man needs a Saviour. Death exists because of sin, as does the act of sacrifice. Sin is the work of man that earns its wages, wages that merit death. And Jesus Christ ‘died unto sin’ to save man from this horrible end. Every man has earned the wages of sin. Every man has earned death by sin. It is self-evident that we all have gone astray—that we all have missed the mark. And the Scriptures teach it.

We have yet to meet a man who has not sinned. But there are proud persons among us who deny the doctrine. Any man who claims that he is not created by a higher being will deny the doctrine of sin because sin should be reckoned sin only if God exists. If God did not create man, man is not accountable to any law that is higher than the one that he frames himself. If man is a mere animal, the bad things that he does, even the bad things committed against his own law, are not sins, only acts emerging from the animal instinct that he has yet to evolve from. Animals do not sin. If they do, cats need be scolded for teasing mice; coyotes for scaring rabbits; and wolves for coveting sheep. Man is the only creature on earth who sins against his Creator.  

The apostle Paul has something to say to persons who deny creation, and who thereby deny that they have sinned. The Scriptures affirm that creation is a visible reality that does not need to be proven. “For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse” (Romans 1.20.) The earth as being the creation of God is assumed because God’s wisdom, goodness, and power are manifest in it. Persons who deny creation deny their Creator, and God calls them such names as ‘fools’ and ‘unrighteous men’ who suppress the truth. Anyone who has denied the plain truth of creation has sinned against God by denying the visible evidence of his existence.

The teaching of Evolution, because of its presentation of man as nothing but an evolving animal, is deluding people into assuming that the doctrine of sin is a myth dreamed up by man. For instance, during a conversation on the subject of sin, a woman to whom I was speaking asked the man with whom she was living the following question, “I don’t sin, do I?” That was quite a rhetorical denial from a woman who, while married to one man, was living in fornication with another. People do not want to believe that sin is real or wrong. But when they are free from the distractions of the world, their own conscience convicts them of sin, and they find it difficult to suppress the sense that they are accountable to a higher power. This is particularly evident when they find themselves in the throes of calamity. When calamity disturbs their tranquility, sinners tilt their heads upward, and cry, “Why me?! Why me?!” They don’t ask that question when eating delicious apples from the tree that God grew in their garden. They ask it, though, when God blows their garden away in a tornado.  

In chapter 2 of Romans, the apostle broadens his identification of those who have sinned, thereby including every single person. He says, “For as many as have sinned without law shall also perish without law: and as many as have sinned in the law shall be judged by the law” (Romans 2.12.) Reference is here made to the Jew and Gentile of verse 9, which categories encapsulate everyone. Notice that the Jew can be judged by the law (as revealed in the Old Testament) and the non-Jew can be judged without it. How can this be? The non-Jew who is without the law can be judged by another law, the light of nature; and this law convicts the sinner through the conscience that God has placed inside each man (verse 15.) So the lawbreakers are those who have the written law of God and those who do not have it. The lawbreakers are the religious and the non-religious: every theist, polytheist, pantheist, and atheist; every aristocrat and every barbarian; every person from every class and caste around the world. No one is exempt. If a man has sinned against the Old Testament, he has sinned; if he has sinned against his conscience, he is guilty as well. That is the apostle’s teaching.

Man does not have it in him to not commit sin. Because of the marred nature inherited from Adam, man is doomed to stray from the moment of conception (Psalm 51.5) and therefore is born in sin. Each man yields to his carnal nature; and through this weakness he breaks the law. We know this, for it is written, “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3.23.) The context indicates that the subjects involved are the Jews and Gentiles of verse 9, of chapter 3 this time. Therefore, all Jews and non-Jews have sinned. This does not leave much room for a belief that there are persons who have not sinned. It does not say, “For all have sinned, except Abraham and Moses; or except Peter, Paul, and John; or except Billy Graham and Mother Theresa; or even except Mary the Mother of God.” It simply says, “All have sinned.”

Man can point to no one and say that that man is not a sinner. Man can point to no one who has not earned the wages of sin, which is death. When a man dies and stays dead, it is because of sin: because he has earned it. Only Jesus Christ could overcome death because he did not die for his own sins; and, being God in the flesh, he had power over death. He did not earn the wages of sin. He was able to overcome death, in part, because he did not earn it. Every man except him has sinned and earned sin’s wages, which is death.

“For the wages of sin is death.” Death is the wages we earn by working for sin. Romans 5.12 gives a historical summary of death: “Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.” Sin and death, it seems, are never far from one another in the Scriptures. It is because death is the consequence of disobedience. The association between sin and death is summarized in three words in the verse above: ‘death by sin.’

Death is associated with sin from the first warning to the last judgment. Death is first mentioned in Genesis as a warning of the consequence of disobeying God. Death is mentioned for the last time in Revelation to identify the end that unbelieving, impenitent souls must come to: ‘the second death.’ The second death is the death that we may be delivered from through faith in Jesus Christ. It is the second death that is contrasted with eternal life in Romans 6.23. The Bible has much to say about the end of man, which is a future encounter with death.

Death is a cardinal subject in the Bible. The words ‘dead’ and ‘death’ occur more often in the Book of Romans than they do in the book of Revelation even, where the wrath of God is copiously poured out. Death, in one form or another, occurs in 15 out of 23 verses of Romans 6. There are two stages of death on earth: (1) Man, because of sin, is spiritually dead (1 John 3.14); (2) then man dies physically. Corresponding to the stages, there are two separations involved: (1) Because of sin, man is separated from God; that is, fellowship with God is broken; (2) when man dies physically, his spirit separates from his body (Ecclesiastes 3.20, 21.) Man must be made spiritually alive so that when he dies his spirit will go to heaven instead of hell; in other words, he must be born again. He who is born twice dies once; he who is born once dies twice. He suffers ‘the second death,’ about which, more below.  

The spiritual deadness of man is an unbridgeable canyon separating man from God. This lifeless condition is inherited from Adam. It is because of this deadness—this paralyzing apathy and alienation—that man thinks evil thoughts without dread and then puts these evil thoughts into practice. When Adam and Eve sinned against God, the wages of sin became death by the word of God. Adam and Eve died spiritually and became separated from God. Then, before they had an opportunity to take and eat fruit from the tree of life and render their disunity with God a certainty forever, God ejected Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. Subsequent to that, physical death occurred: the separation of body from spirit. And so we read in Genesis, “And all the days that Adam lived were nine hundred and thirty years: and he died” (Genesis 5.5.) 

We hear much about the impact of death upon loved ones. But what impact has death upon God? The assertion that God is impacted, in some way, by death, is not cancelled out by the fact that God does not change, and is, because of his immutability, never less than perfectly serene no matter what his creatures do against his holy name. God’s character is imperfectly comprehensible and incompletely revealed. God does not change; but there is no reason why an inscrutable God cannot be changelessly serene but also changeably intense, for intensity is simply the expression of character. Regardless, theology that admits no paradox is cold where the Scriptures are warm. When the LORD was ‘grieved at his heart’ because of man’s ‘great wickedness’ (Genesis 6), he was perfectly serene and sincerely grieved at the same time, even though time itself, compared with God’s eternality, must be, to us, a square peg to a round hole. The LORD was grieved in that instance and in numerous others; the Holy Spirit is often grieved and quenched; and the Bible tells us that ‘Jesus wept.’ It is better for us to be impressed by these revelations than to have them nullified by the parries of philosophical theology. So what impact does death have upon God? Each time a person dies, God is reminded of the magnitude of man’s disobedience. He is reminded of it each time a body separates from a soul. The body that God knit together was created to be animated by a soul, which soul, because of sin and sentence, separates from its body. This is why, at the resurrection of the just and the unjust, each soul will be reunited with the body it once dwelled in. And what impact has the spiritual death of man upon God? God is reminded of broken fellowship each time some part of his law is broken. Is there even one day in a man’s life when he does not break one of the Ten Commandments? Do we not bear false witness, for example, each and every day to some degree? How long can we listen to the evening news before this sin is committed by the one telling the news? Bearing false witness is bad news; and no one is guiltier of that sin than the reporter of news. God bears with all this false witnessing, though, and gives space to repent. Each time a woman conceives, he is reminded that a baby will be born in sin, and that this babe will grow up to break his commandments continually. But God has allowed this rebellion to take place billions of times. The longsuffering of God is one of the most unsung of his attributes. But man must, in the end, die. He must, because he is a sinner. Just as the moth cannot but fly crookedly, the sinner cannot but sin recklessly; and like a moth to an electric zapper, the sinner flies naturally toward death and hell. The impact upon two Persons of the Trinity while the Third was nailed to a cross is an awesome gorge, no doubt, that no creature can ever see the bottom of. This unfathomable impact was the cost of dealing the death blow to death and to channeling a river of life around hell and into heaven. There is almost nothing more beneficial to meditate on than Death. If we do it often enough, in the proper frame of mind, and with the right Word, it will lead us to Life.  

We push the subject of death aside; but then we obsess over it. We suppress thoughts of our own demise, but curiously look on at the demise of others. We make a valiant effort to ward off the cessation of vital functions even while we are aware that physical death is an appointment that we are powerless to postpone. The days of each man are settled, no matter if one man thinks that juicing will give him some more, no matter if another man thinks to extend them by walking after each meal. “Seeing his days are determined” (Job 14.5.) 

Physical death and alienation from God would not matter as much if man were made only of dust and were therefore destined for annihilation. But man will live forever in the spirit that God breathed into him. We might be able to ignore our imminent demise if we were not conscious of our immaterial essence, which immateriality is everlasting. The fact that we are prompted to wonder what happens after death is a convincing argument for something beyond.

What happens when spiritually dead man dies physically? He suffers two more stages of death: (1) his spirit rises from his dead body and it goes to hell (Luke 16.26); (2) at the appointed time, his body is resurrected, reunited with his spirit, and he goes before God to be finally judged and put away (Revelation 20.13.) Corresponding to the stages, there are two separations involved: (1) the reprobate spirit is temporarily set apart (in hell) from redeemed spirits that are safe (in heaven) with the Lord (2); the spirit, with its body, after the judgment and because of it, is finally and eternally separated from all goodness. This is ‘the second death.’ 

Therefore, hell is only reservation for judgment. The end of man does not end with hell. This is one of the most shocking facts in the whole Bible. At the judgment before the great white throne, the wages that were earned on earth are fully paid; in other words: it’s payback time for what we have done and who we are. Here is a partial description of what takes place: “And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them: and they were judged every man according to their works. And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death. And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire” (Revelation 20. 13-15.) The end of sinful man is an everlasting dip in liquid fire.

Even hell, that place of doom and torment, is cast into a place more terrible than itself. Sinners who go with hell into the lake of fire will be in the same place as the devil, and will be tormented forever and ever (Revelation 20.10.) They will be tormented before the holy angels, the perfected saints, and the Lamb of God. They will receive no rest (Revelation 14.10, 11.) It is a place of ‘outer darkness’ and of ‘weeping and gnashing of teeth’ (Matthew 25.30.) The second death is a continual conscious torment. These are the wages of sin that accrue forever to a person’s account. This is the end of man: death. This is the end of man without God on his side.

An old proverb among the Dutch: “Look what the bell is without the clapper, such are good laws and judgments without due execution” (Samuel Ward, Sermons, p. 129.) This is much the case with us today. We have laws; and many of them are good. But our politicians and judges prefer lawlessness to enforcement. ‘Soft on crime’ is their lawless law; this is why the bells of legislation are often silent when they should be ringing. Almighty God will be harder on sin than we are soft on crime. The hard clapper of God’s law will make the bell of judgment clap. Laws are for restraining sin. But with ideological teeth our representatives grind good laws into powder. How many sins and crimes could be prevented, along with their everlasting punishments, if laws were enforced? Negligent representatives will be made to grind for sin before long. Teeth made to endure will be made to endlessly gnaw. “And they gnawed their tongues for pain” (Revelation 16.10.)

PART I, ARTICLE I: THE END OF MAN, SECTION I

 

While reading through the book of Romans, I was detained by the juxtapositions contained in verse 6.23 and by the sight of how the verse unfolds its wonderful divinity. I was made glad to have been held fast for a long time by its connecting links. From this blessed detention two studies resulted. This one is the longest and most elaborate of the two.   

“For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 6.23.)

After we become self-aware, we begin to think. After we begin to think, we need, more than anything else, to inquire concerning our end. Indeed, but is this not what children do when they start asking questions about God? Because of the uncertainty of life and the certainty of death, this should be our very first inquiry; and this all-important investigation should continue, in spite of discouragers and discouragements, until we are satisfied that we have discovered what this end is. Since I exist, whereas before I did not; and since I am here, whereas I was not here before, some questions to be answered are these: Will I always exist? In what capacity will I exist? Where will I exist? “Before any other knowledge attainable by us in the compass of the universe, it is most essential for us to know what our Creator and sovereign Lord intends to do with us after death” (A. A. Hodge, Evangelical Theology, p. 388.)   

To what end is man coming to? Where is man going, ultimately? What is the end of man? Will man attain for himself what the tree of life could have given him? Will man achieve what was thwarted by God at the tower of Babel? Will he find his own way to heaven? Will men of the earth unite and find a way to live forever? Will man master science to achieve this end? Will he rely on artificial intelligence to do it? Will man try to live forever through clones? Will he manipulate his genes in an effort to construct the everlasting man? Will he hope for an alien encounter to solve the crises of pollution, war, and death? Will he trust in a cycle of reincarnations or metempsychosis to lead him to a longer, happier, and more peaceful life? There are some who say that it would be intolerable to live forever. But they only say that to pretend they are not afraid of dying. Man is fascinated by the death of strangers and fictional characters. But he would prefer to never mind, if he could, any thought of his own.   

Though man suppresses thoughts of his own death, these thoughts resurface because man is made to exist forever. The spirit of man is centered upon the question of his existence. Man longs to live but is certain to die. He is haunted by death but obsessed with living. Plastic surgery, the cosmetic industry, and the mid-life crisis—these things all speak of man’s desire to defy death. The writing of books and the acquisition of certificates prove man’s burden to leave his mark before going to his ineluctable grave. At the least, man hopes to live forever in his achievements or through his children. But what will be the end of man? The apostle Paul addressed this fateful subject; and, unlike the philosopher, he was simple and straightforward about it, not obscure and speculative. In his letter to the Romans, the great apostle gives a summary of the end to which man is going. The end of man is the theme of Romans 6.23. 

The letter in question is addressed ‘to all that be in Rome’ (1.7); that is to say, to all the members of the church there, persons ‘called saints.’ The letter contains a message for the ungodly (1.18-2.16); it has something to say to the unconverted Jew (2.17-29); it is relevant to Israel at large (10.1); but principally, it is for ‘them which are in Christ Jesus’ (8.1.) 

Paul the apostle, ‘separated unto the gospel of God,’ wrote the letter to teach the church about the gospel’s blessings and ramifications. He often used contrast as a device to explain his doctrine. This method provokes meditation by making the reader think about two subjects at once for the purpose of noting the associations and differences between the two. Romans 6.23 contains one such contrast. “For the wages of sin is death.” This is the antithesis of, and is therefore set beside: “the gift of God is eternal life.” And the way from the first outcome to the other is: “through Jesus Christ our Lord.” The Christians in Rome had already crossed over into possession of eternal life ‘through Jesus Christ our Lord’; this they did through faith in his name for the remission of their sins. Romans 6 is written in order to challenge the members of the church there to live ‘dead unto sin’ because Christ ‘died unto sin’ to free sinners from sin. The Christians of Rome are beseeched to ‘walk in newness of life,’ to ‘yield unto God,’ and to live in the likeness of the death of Christ (as dead to sin), in view of the resurrection to come. At the end of the chapter they are reminded of the end from which they were delivered: death; and of the end which they have received through Jesus Christ: eternal life. The last verse in Romans 6—verse 23—is designed to convict and to prompt obedience. This is evident in what both precedes and follows the verse. 

There are two possible ends for man: death, or else eternal life. There is a miserable end that man is going toward. And there is a glorious end that he may receive through faith in Jesus Christ. The emphasis of the verse is life over death because the apostle is communicating to persons who have received this life. The emphasis is on the latter part of the verse, then, which ends with ‘Jesus Christ our Lord.’ There is no person mentioned in the first part of the verse because while man needs the person of Jesus Christ in order to live, he does not need a person’s help to die.

The verse is a contrast of destinies. Really, there are three contrasts: wages and gift; sin and God; death and eternal life. Notice that ‘wages’ implies work, while ‘gift’ implies reception. Notice also that ‘wages’ is plural, while ‘gift’ is singular. We learn from this that there are many earnings that accrue unto death, but only one gift, which is the offered alternative. The gift is eternal life. It is the gift of God. Jesus Christ is the Mediator of this gift. The end of man is this or that, either death or life.

INTRODUCTION

 

In my filing cabinet were stored many articles that I had written but never satisfactorily edited. Some of them dated as far back as before I began to use a computer. While it is always more attractive to be writing something new than renovating what is old, the swift passage of time finally convinced me to peer into this cabinet, select from it what most deserves to be published, and begin the overhaul. The zeal for new projects has for years overruled my plan to revise what once I had some hope for, and did nearly prevent these articles from receiving new attention. It was good that they were laid aside for so long before they were let out. Whatever growth I have gained between their initial composition and this final revision has been, I hope, infused into them. My understanding being more mature than when I first wrote the articles, and my supporting sources more authoritative and numerous, I can say, with conviction, that my beliefs, largely the same then as now, have been thoroughly vindicated.

As my practice has been mostly to write articles, not books limited to single theses, discrete material continues to be generated; articles of recent creation, therefore, finding no better place to reside, have been placed between these covers alongside the more aged bulk that this volume is made of. Some articles were produced as my circumstances necessitated me figuring certain things out. Others were inspired as my interests dictated. Still others happened by accident. All were gladly written during fluctuating distress. Where it seemed necessary, articles have been brought up to date. Twenty of them have been allowed admission: ten on the forepart and ten on the back end.

A motley collection of articles is not fit for division into shipshape categories. Because of this, I had decided to divide the whole by size, thus setting the motley bunch into two neat ranks of ‘major’ ‘and minor.’ However, upon closer scrutiny, I discovered that these articles were not miscellaneous enough to be labeled motley, after all, and that there was a more natural way of setting things in array than by assigning placement according to size. While trying to discern how best to line the articles up, I saw that each one was written as the result of ‘biblical inquiry’ or ‘cultural criticism,’ which processes exactly correspond with what a Christian is obliged to do. The Christian inquires into what he has been convinced is the word of God; then he critiques the culture into which this word of God must penetrate and affect. The word of God tenders judgment to the Christian mind; the Christian puts his accumulated judgment to use in judging the culture. In The Progress of Doctrine in the New Testament, Thomas Dehany Bernard points out the obvious but easily missed fact that Jesus taught most of his lessons as occasions about him arose. This is an encouraging fact because learning doctrines and critiquing subcultures is something of an inverse imitation of that. Jesus faced the culture and taught his doctrine; the Christian learns his doctrine and faces the culture. 

Not every Christian will write articles about his progress. He need not do that. But the practice is a good one for persons in the habit. If labor in the study of the Bible is for the purpose of gaining understanding in obedience to God, this labor is not lost even if publishing be not its end or popularity be not its outcome.