One of the best things she does in this book is spend a whole lot of time reminding us of what God in his love has already accomplished in us. She says she’s done this because,
“I think that’s where most serious Christians fail; and because they fail to hold close these marvelous truths, their obedience becomes a burdensome exercise in self-improvement….
‘The point here is that the indicative does not describe a reality that exists by itself, one to with a heart for the imperative [automatically] … follows as a subsequent, presumably detachable addition.’
We cannot assume that a constant consideration of the gospel will automatically eventuate in holy living, or why would the writers of the New Testament, whose lives were robustly tethered to the gospel, have written so much by way of the imperative? The wonderful pronouncements God has made about us cannot and must not be disconnected from the wonderful expectations he has of us. In other words, gospel-declaration must not be severed from gospel-obligation. Not that we must now throw away all thought of God’s grace and “get to work.” No, but neither should we throw away all thought of our obligations to ponder his declarations only. The full teaching of the New Testament seems plain on this topic: the declarations of the gospel are unavoidably tied to the obligations of the gospel.
I’ve told you that both gospel-declarations (indicatives) and gospel-obligations (imperatives) are essential to our growth in becoming the people we already are. Let me give you two examples of how this truth my play out in our daily lives.
OBLIGATION WITHOUT DECLARATION
In my experience, this is where most serious-minded believers get off track. In our desire to live lives that are pleasing to God, it’s easy to forget that sanctification (our change into Christlikeness) is, as the Westminster Divines wrote, “an act of God’s grace.” It is an act of God’s grace because his work in us is prior to anything holy blossoming from us, either from our actions or the motives that prompt them. Our obedience is entirely the result of the seed he has planted in us and the work of the Spirit through us. I doubt many of us would disagree with this statement in theory, but I wonder if we embrace it as intentionally as we should. Our sanctification is from God alone who has “made us pure and holy” (I Cor. 1:30 NLT) through Jesus Christ. “God’s work in salvation… never absorbs or invalidates man’s work, but arouses and stimulates it and gives it meaning.”
A skewed perspective on God’s activity in our sanctification will result in an overemphasis on outward conformity to the imperatives. It will breed one of two categories of moralism. The first is what I’m calling the Happy Moralist.
The Happy Moralist is the person who thinks that his holiness pretty much rests on his own efforts but isn’t worried because he has reduced God’s commands for outward conformity to simplistic rules like don’t drink, don’t chew, don’t run with them that do, or any of a thousand outward commands that don’t engage the heart.
If avoiding certain external behaviors, “Do not handle, do not taste, do not touch,” is all God demands of us, then we can be happy with our righteousness and, while we’re at it, it’ll be easy to be judgmental and look down on others, too.
Of course the problem that the Happy Moralist must face is that all of his conformity to mere external regulations is of “no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh” (Col. 2:23). The sinful heart is never transformed by conformity to the imperatives but only by relationship with the One who cleanses hearts. All of the Happy Moralist’s external law keep doesn’t touch the source of his sin—the desires of his heart. In fact, his self-styled successes only serve to make him blind to his weaknesses and proud of his accomplishments. The rich young ruler was a Happy Moralist until he met the Christ who decimated his self-esteem and showed him his need…
Now let me introduce to you the Sad Moralist. This is the person who understands the profound depth of God’s demands: to love him with all that we are, to love our neighbor as ourselves. He sees that true holiness is not a matter of mere externals, and in this he is right; but he is also crushed by the depth of his inability to even begin to achieve the righteousness God requires. His conscience always accuses him, he wonders about his salvation, he is over-punctilious about every thought, scrupulous to a fault; he rehearses his failures over and over in his mind, is overwrought with guilt and wonders about the joy and rest other Christians seem to have…
Like the Happy Moralist, this unhappy soul will continually be tempted to fall into self-indulgence, perhaps spending hours and hours and introspection, self-recrimination, and what might be called depression or anxiety. He’ll compare his walk with others and instead of looking down on them, he’ll look down on himself. He is the overwrought Christian who claims to know God’s grace but never finds the freedom to serve Christ from grateful obedience, because he believes his obedience is never perfect enough. He needs to see that Jesus is greater than his sin, greater than his opinion of himself. He needs the humility that a true embracing of God’s sovereignty over his sanctification produces.
Both the happy and sad moralist must continually focus and refocus their life on the benefits the Lord has given them in Christ."
“I think that’s where most serious Christians fail; and because they fail to hold close these marvelous truths, their obedience becomes a burdensome exercise in self-improvement….
‘The point here is that the indicative does not describe a reality that exists by itself, one to with a heart for the imperative [automatically] … follows as a subsequent, presumably detachable addition.’
We cannot assume that a constant consideration of the gospel will automatically eventuate in holy living, or why would the writers of the New Testament, whose lives were robustly tethered to the gospel, have written so much by way of the imperative? The wonderful pronouncements God has made about us cannot and must not be disconnected from the wonderful expectations he has of us. In other words, gospel-declaration must not be severed from gospel-obligation. Not that we must now throw away all thought of God’s grace and “get to work.” No, but neither should we throw away all thought of our obligations to ponder his declarations only. The full teaching of the New Testament seems plain on this topic: the declarations of the gospel are unavoidably tied to the obligations of the gospel.
I’ve told you that both gospel-declarations (indicatives) and gospel-obligations (imperatives) are essential to our growth in becoming the people we already are. Let me give you two examples of how this truth my play out in our daily lives.
OBLIGATION WITHOUT DECLARATION
In my experience, this is where most serious-minded believers get off track. In our desire to live lives that are pleasing to God, it’s easy to forget that sanctification (our change into Christlikeness) is, as the Westminster Divines wrote, “an act of God’s grace.” It is an act of God’s grace because his work in us is prior to anything holy blossoming from us, either from our actions or the motives that prompt them. Our obedience is entirely the result of the seed he has planted in us and the work of the Spirit through us. I doubt many of us would disagree with this statement in theory, but I wonder if we embrace it as intentionally as we should. Our sanctification is from God alone who has “made us pure and holy” (I Cor. 1:30 NLT) through Jesus Christ. “God’s work in salvation… never absorbs or invalidates man’s work, but arouses and stimulates it and gives it meaning.”
A skewed perspective on God’s activity in our sanctification will result in an overemphasis on outward conformity to the imperatives. It will breed one of two categories of moralism. The first is what I’m calling the Happy Moralist.
The Happy Moralist is the person who thinks that his holiness pretty much rests on his own efforts but isn’t worried because he has reduced God’s commands for outward conformity to simplistic rules like don’t drink, don’t chew, don’t run with them that do, or any of a thousand outward commands that don’t engage the heart.
If avoiding certain external behaviors, “Do not handle, do not taste, do not touch,” is all God demands of us, then we can be happy with our righteousness and, while we’re at it, it’ll be easy to be judgmental and look down on others, too.
Of course the problem that the Happy Moralist must face is that all of his conformity to mere external regulations is of “no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh” (Col. 2:23). The sinful heart is never transformed by conformity to the imperatives but only by relationship with the One who cleanses hearts. All of the Happy Moralist’s external law keep doesn’t touch the source of his sin—the desires of his heart. In fact, his self-styled successes only serve to make him blind to his weaknesses and proud of his accomplishments. The rich young ruler was a Happy Moralist until he met the Christ who decimated his self-esteem and showed him his need…
Now let me introduce to you the Sad Moralist. This is the person who understands the profound depth of God’s demands: to love him with all that we are, to love our neighbor as ourselves. He sees that true holiness is not a matter of mere externals, and in this he is right; but he is also crushed by the depth of his inability to even begin to achieve the righteousness God requires. His conscience always accuses him, he wonders about his salvation, he is over-punctilious about every thought, scrupulous to a fault; he rehearses his failures over and over in his mind, is overwrought with guilt and wonders about the joy and rest other Christians seem to have…
Like the Happy Moralist, this unhappy soul will continually be tempted to fall into self-indulgence, perhaps spending hours and hours and introspection, self-recrimination, and what might be called depression or anxiety. He’ll compare his walk with others and instead of looking down on them, he’ll look down on himself. He is the overwrought Christian who claims to know God’s grace but never finds the freedom to serve Christ from grateful obedience, because he believes his obedience is never perfect enough. He needs to see that Jesus is greater than his sin, greater than his opinion of himself. He needs the humility that a true embracing of God’s sovereignty over his sanctification produces.
Both the happy and sad moralist must continually focus and refocus their life on the benefits the Lord has given them in Christ."
- Elyse Fitzpatrick, Because He Loves Me
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