One of the most difficult lessons for the Christian to learn is that his salvation rests solely on what Christ has done and not one whit on any activity in which he himself may engage.
Readily admitting that Christ is Saviour and Lord, we may still have lurking in the back of our minds the feeling that we can add something to the certainty of our position before God by what we do.
From this fallacy there comes the frenetic activity of some in assuming church responsibilities—activity which, in the minds of many, is equated with being a “good Christian.”
As a result, in the eyes of the world as a whole Christianity is equated with what men do, not with what Christ has done.
We can hear the hurried rejoinder that if Christians do not work for their Lord they are very poor Christians, and to this we enter a hearty “Amen.” The Church is plagued with Christians who do nothing, people who if they are finally prevailed upon to do something in or for the Church feel that in so doing they are being good Christians.
If we search our own minds and hearts, most of us will agree that our activities, no matter how spontaneous they may be, generate within us a feeling of self-satisfaction in which the idea of merit lurks dangerously.
It is possible that the most difficult truth for man to comprehend is that he is saved by God’s grace—through faith—and by nothing else. Obedience, resulting from faith, leads to Christian behavior, which includes how Christians act and what they do to honor their God; but behind all of this and underneath as its sure and abiding foundation is the completeness of the work of Christ in redeeming men from sin and making them righteous in God’s sight.
There are some who regard this as a dangerous doctrine; they feel that man is then left too much to his own devices and therefore may neglect his duties as a Christian.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Once a person realizes the overwhelming fact that Christ offers full pardon and redemption solely on the ground of what He has done, and not on the ground of what man himself might do, his reaction is a surge of love and gratitude and a desire to serve with all he possesses.
The weakness of the witness of the Church today stems in large measure from a failure to stress the complete and soul-satisfying work of Christ on the Cross. Because of this we find ourselves trying to produce counterfeit “christs,” people who go about “being Christians” by something they do.
In fact, the word “Christian” is one of the most misused and misunderstood in the English language. Men are often spoken of as being “great Christians” because of their humanitarian activities, their work for world peace, or other services rendered for the public good, when as a matter of fact none of these things, singly or in conjunction with the others, has anything to do with being a Christian.
Because of the selfless devotion of some Christians and their impact on the generation they have served, that which they have done has been confused with Christianity itself. But they would be the first to affirm that their work has been the fruit of their Christian faith, not its root.
We have before us a letter from a father, a man caught up in the activities of his local church to the point where he rarely has an evening at home. He writes that he had regarded such activities as an evidence of his own Christianity until one evening his little boy begged him, “Daddy, why don’t you stay home some time and play with us?”
There came over this man with a rush the realization that he had misinterpreted his Christian duties to the point of neglecting his primary duty before God as a parent.
We once were present when one woman asked another if she was a Christian. Her reply sounded like a joke, but it was pitifully revealing: “Heck yes; don’t I help with the rummage sale every Saturday morning?”
Amusing? No! You and I too often harbor similar ideas as to what it means to be a Christian. We think that because we are active in God’s service we are in some strange way transformed into Christians. But the fact remains that we become Christians by accepting what Christ has done for us—and by nothing else.
The Apostle Paul states this many times, nowhere more clearly than in these words: “He saved us, not because of deeds done by us in righteousness, but in virtue of his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, which he poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior” (Tit. 3:5, 6, RSV).
Phillips reinforces this thought by his translation, “He saved us—not by virtue of any moral achievements of ours.” In another place Phillips translates: “But even though we were dead in our sins God was so rich in mercy that he gave us the very life of Christ (for it is, remember, by grace and not by achievement that you are saved)” (Eph. 2:4, 5). To put it another way, man’s salvation rests in believing, not achieving.
Any doctrine less than this detracts from the work of Christ and is contrary to the divine revelation. But many think of it as a dangerous doctrine, one which will lead men to “accept Christ and stop right there.” This is not the case; we repeat that we believe the Church is weak today because too many in it fail to rest solely on the finished work of Christ and go out to add something to it.
Stressing the admonition to “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling,” we ignore the words which immediately follow: “For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure” (Phil. 2:12b, 13).
Why then should this stressing of the complete work of Christ be considered “dangerous”? Is it not because there is the fear that Christians might lie down on the job of being Christians? But it should be remembered that once a person realizes the overwhelming magnitude of what Christ has done for him, this divine love will constrain him to go out and serve God with everything he has.
If we just stop to realize that ours is no half-way salvation, that Christ’s death on the Cross offers no partial redemption but that God offers to all mankind complete and eternal life through the finished work of his Son—then we are in a position to go out and live for his glory and the good of our fellow man.
On the other hand, permit even an iota of reservation as to the completeness of Christ’s redemption and we find ourselves working to save ourselves, clad not in the robes of His righteousness but in the rags of the unregenerate, and beating the air in the futility of human endeavor.
The utter completeness of Christ’s work is hard to grasp; but from it proceed true Christians, and true Christian activity.
