Deeds Over Creeds

By Gary L. W. Johnson 9/1/2009

     The English Reformer Hugh Latimer once remarked, “We ought never to regard unity so much that we would or should forsake God’s Word for her sake.” Wise words from a man who went to the stake, rather than compromise the truth of the gospel.

     To those whose only concern is the appearance of visible unity among all who call themselves Christians, Latimer’s resolve appears most unattractive. We are repeatedly told by those of this persuasion that the church’s major fault is its deplorable lack of visible unity. Appeal is constantly made to the words of Jesus in John 17, and those who do not join this effort are portrayed as being in serious disagreement with Jesus! This abominable lack of visible unity, they claim, is our greatest sin. And what is chiefly to be blamed for this heinous state of affairs? Doctrine — or to be more precise — doctrinal distinctives. Nowadays we are told that things like the Reformation’s understanding of sola fide, the doctrine of penal substitutionary atonement, and, particularly, the distasteful notion of endless punishment and the exclusivity of salvation through Christ alone are an encumbrance to establishing visible Christian unity. But is this notion of visible unity what Jesus intended in His high priestly prayer in John 17? Our Lord’s concern, as Robert Lewis Dabney pointed out last century, is for spiritual unity. The demand for visible unity is not only quite foreign to the text, it constitutes, in the words of Dabney, an enormous blunder. It is, in fact, an idol that is used to stifle any legitimate dissent, and, let me add, it is positively deadly to the health and welfare of the church. I am reminded of the remark of Francis Bacon, the noted English philosopher and statesman of a bygone era: “Unity that is formed on expedience is, in reality, grounded upon an implicit ignorance. As everyone knows, all colors will look the same in the dark.” Times have changed and we are frequently reminded that we need to change with them. If we don’t, we’re going to be perceived as backward and outdated.

     In our postmodern times, “tolerance” is valued over truth, and truth, like beauty, is in the eyes of the beholder and as such must be extended to everyone, except those disagreeable and critical exponents of truth who hold to absolutes, or, to put it into theological language, those who seek to maintain historical orthodoxy. Tragically, many professing evangelicals are embracing in celebratory fashion a distinctively non-doctrinal mentality when it comes to defining their faith. In part, this sad state of affairs is traceable to the gullible and blatantly naïve assumption that the surrounding culture is value-neutral and thus harmless. This manifests itself in the notion that since all things are primarily a matter of personal preferences (such as different lifestyles), then we should celebrate diversity by suspending judgment only to live and let live. Christians who end up buying into this idea fail to recognize that by doing so they are violating the apostle Paul’s admonition in Romans 12:2: “Do not be conformed to this world.” Despite the fact that this kind of neutralism accents diversity, it does so in name only. Conformity is actually what drives it. The standard around which neutralism seeks conformity is human autonomy, pure and simple. Not surprisingly, this desire for conformity has a noticeable parallel in Christian circles — the demand for visible unity.

     Recently, the motto “deeds over creeds” has once again captured the imagination of the evangelical world. As attractive as this may sound, there is a very steep price to be paid here. How so? According to this notion, it really doesn’t matter what your label is (Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Pentecostal, or Baptist). All that matters, apparently, is one’s love for Jesus — everything else is of little concern. This is not the first time we’ve heard this appeal. Over a decade ago, the Promise Keepers marched down this same path. At its 1994 “Seize the Moment” conference in Portland, founder Bill McCartney said, “Promise Keepers doesn’t care if you’re Catholic. Do you love Jesus? Are you born of the Spirit of God?” One-time PK president Randy Phillips continues: “…whatever the labels are should not divide us. …all men are welcome, whether you’re Baptist, Pentecostal, or Roman Catholic. If you are in the body of Christ, then you should certainly be welcome” (Albert James Dager, Media Spotlight, “Promise Keepers: Is What You See What You Get?” p. 20). But it was not simply a question of labels. If that is the case, then the official position of the Church of Latter-day Saints should not be a concern. If individual Mormons claim they love Jesus and are born of the Spirit, why should they be excluded?

     Many evanagelicals are now banging the same drum: deeds over creeds. But as it turns out, creeds really do matter. Any unity like the kind now being urged on us that is formed apart from creeds and the need for them, is doomed to produce the kind of unity that is polluted by doctrinal impurity. It is the kind of impurity that in the final analysis ends up compromising the truth of the gospel. This is too steep a price to be paid for the sake of visible unity.

• 1      By Faith Alone: Answering the Challenges to the Doctrine of Justification
• 2      Reforming or Conforming?: Post-Conservative Evangelicals and the Emerging Church

The Coming Kingdom

By R.C. Sproul Jr. 10/1/2009

     The world is full of hypocrites, and the solution to this problem is twofold: If you are more modern, you deal with the gap between your obedience and what you pretend to be by trying harder to be good. You try to make your sin go away. If you are postmodern, you deal with the problem not by trying to do better, by getting rid of your sin, but by getting rid of the idea of sin. If there is no right and wrong, no one can rightly accuse you of acting like you are right when you are actually wrong.

     The church is likewise full of hypocrites. Because we claim to be citizens of heaven but are suffused with the world, our solutions often look just like the world’s solution. We either, if we tend toward the modern, try harder to sin less and thus shorten the gap between what we pretend to be and what we are. Or, if we tend to be more postmodern, we muddy up God’s law, revel in a soft grace, and accuse our conscience of being a legalist. The Bible’s solution, however, is neither to try to reduce the sin nor to reduce the idea of sin. It is instead to repent. We deal with our hypocrisy, our folly of pretending to be better than we are, by confessing how bad we actually are. We enter more fully into our sin by entering more fully into repentance.

     Consider this: How quick are you to repent? If you’re anything like me, you’ve just this moment added several more things to repent of. First, pride. I suspect that you, if you are like me, think yourself a pretty decent repenter. You likely wish that others would learn from your wonderful example and do likewise. Indeed, now that I mention it, you can think of several people that owe you an apology, and aren’t you the one being so gracious about it up until now? Second, lying. I suspect that you, if you are like me, have in thinking all of the above lied to yourself in an egregious way. You are deluded, your delusions springing forth from your deceitful heart like so many dandelions on a spring day. Third, pride again. Here your pride is less about you and more about Jesus. That is, our failure to understand what failures we are is in turn a reflection on the work of Christ. We diminish His work on our behalf when we diminish the scope of our own sin. Fourth, unrepentance. That is, because, like me, you are a bigger sinner than you are willing to face; you have not repented for your sins like you ought. You have repented lightly for dark sins.

     What should you do? You could get mad at me for pointing this all out. Or, you could repent. You could ask that God would forgive you for thinking too highly of yourself. You could ask that He would empower you to be swift to see your own sins and swift in turn to confess them both to Him and to those that you have wronged. You could ask that you might have earned the right to have etched on your gravestone: “He was quick to repent.” And you could thank God for His provision of His Son so that we can be forgiven. You could ask Him to gently remind you each time you find yourself unhappy about the sins of your family, your neighbors, your fellow parishioners from your church, your parents, your elders, and others that such would be a prompt to you to assess honestly your own weaknesses. That we are sinners is a problem solved by the coming of Jesus the Savior. That we don’t know we are sinners — that is a problem for the Holy Spirit, who convicts and sanctifies.

     The answer to every problem, no matter how complex, is simple — repent and believe the gospel. As frustrating as our own blindness might be, the light has come into the world. As maddening as our weaknesses might be, the Sovereign One has come and dwelt among us. As embarrassing as our pride might be, the one who is poor in Spirit has sent the Spirit to lead us into all truth, including the ugly truth about ourselves.

     As we consider our calling to seek first the kingdom of God — as we consider how we might make known the reign of Christ — we are quick to judge the world. The coming months are likely to bring more political unrest. Were I a betting man, I would guess in turn that economic hardship will get worse rather than better. We can expect to see more cultural decline. All of which will be for nothing if we do not learn the first lesson — repent and believe. Before we take over the levers of power, before we dominion our way back to prosperity, before we press the crown rights of King Jesus over the culture, may we remember the crown of thorns and repent. And when we have repented, let us repent again for the anemia of our repentance. Then, let us believe that He is at work in us both to do and to will His good pleasure. And all these things will be added unto us.

Playing Your Part

By Gene Edward Veith 10/1/2009

     As seen in other articles this month, the word hypocrisy derives from the Greek term for “playing a part.” The ordinary word for an actor on the stage in Greek drama was hypocrite. In the tragedies of Sophocles or the comedies of Aristophanes, the actors — the hypocrites — played their different parts by wearing masks. The moral transgression of hypocrisy also involves playing a part and wearing a mask. But there are also times when God calls us to play a part.

     Today’s culture is tolerant of almost every behavior, except hypocrisy. Our society has no problem with someone who is homosexual or who uses pornography. But if a crusader against legalizing gay marriage turns out to be homosexual, or if a minister who preaches against pornography turns out to have porn on his computer, the full weight of ridicule, indignation, and social disapproval falls upon his head. Not for his vices, but for opposing the vices that he himself has. For wearing a mask of virtue when he himself is not virtuous. For being a hypocrite.

     Christians need to expect this treatment. Hypocrisy is certainly wrong. But inconsistency between belief and behavior is not always hypocrisy. No one hates a sin more than someone who is honestly struggling with it in his own life.

     Many Pharisees in the New Testament and the legalists of our own day consider themselves to be such good people that they do not need God’s forgiveness. But they do. Christians who are honest with themselves and with God — who, whatever their sins, are not hypocrites — may still be asked to “play a part.”

     God redeems people through Christ, and then He calls them to live out their faith in their vocations. He calls Christians to love and serve their neighbors in their multiple vocations, which are the arenas for sanctification and Christian growth.

     In vocation, God places us into certain “offices,” some of which share His authority. Some of these demand that we “play a part,” even putting on a mask. This is expressed in the ages-old custom that certain vocations be marked with special clothing. As a private citizen, a judge has no more right to send a person to prison than anyone else. But when he puts on his “robe of office,” he is acting in his official capacity as an agent of the law, and, according to Romans 13, of God Himself. Acting by virtue of his “office,” he does indeed have the authority to punish criminals on behalf of the state as a whole.

     In many churches, a pastor wears a robe of some kind, signifying that when he is up in the pulpit, we in the pews should not consider him our good friend and fishing buddy, though he may be that. When he is acting in his office, he is teaching us not his word but God’s Word, which he has studied and is authorized to teach.

     There was a study of patients who were attended to by a doctor who wore jeans and a t-shirt, rather than the traditional white lab coat. Patients universally objected! No one wants someone who looks like an ordinary man off the street to give them a medical examination. That white lab coat, though, is a symbol of vocation, that the doctor is authorized to poke around our bodies by virtue of his calling, his training, and his office.

     This is why police officers wear uniforms. And why there are different standards in the Geneva Conventions for soldiers who wear the uniform of their country — and thus fall under a lawful chain of command that goes back to the Romans 13 authority of the lawful magistrate — and combatants such as terrorists who fight only on their own authority and who wear no uniform.

     Sometimes the duties of our vocations — not all of which have uniforms — require us to fulfill an office, even if it goes against our nature. A father may have to discipline his child. He may not want to. He may even feel conflicted because he pulled the same stunt when he was his child’s age. A father who used marijuana as a teenager is not being hypocritical when he punishes his teenager for using drugs. He is fulfilling his office as father.

     Against their inclinations but to carry out the duties of their offices, teachers sometimes have to give bad grades; employers must sometimes fire incompetent employees; pastors must sometimes exercise church discipline, even against a friend. A newly minted young officer fresh out of ROTC must assume authority over a company of rough combat veterans who are older than he is. He may be nervous and may feel out of place, but he puts on the mask of command and orders his troops to attention. Spouses may not always feel like loving husbands and loving wives, but in “playing their part” they fulfill their vocations and God’s will for their marriage.

     If vocation requires us to put on masks, it is worth remembering that Luther taught that those who love and serve their neighbors in vocation are themselves “masks of God.” Looming behind the farmer, the doctor, the soldier, the pastor, and the parent is God Himself providing daily bread, healing, protecting, ministering, and giving life.

     The parts we play may indeed be hypocritical. But when God asks us to play a part, He is also playing a part through us.

No Sacrifice Too Great

By Michael Haykin 9/1/2009

     In the final letter that we have from the apostle Paul, written in a lonely prison cell in Rome while he was expecting death for the sake of the gospel, he reminded his closest friend Timothy of the utter necessity of passing on the faith to “faithful men” (2 Tim. 2:2). It bears noting that what Paul envisaged in these words was not simply doctrinal instruction in the essentials of Christianity. Of course, Paul expected the training of future leaders to involve the handing on of doctrine. But, as is clear from a later statement by Paul in this letter, such transmission of the faith also involved the development of lifelong convictions and goals and the nurture of character — making the leader a person of love, patience, and steadfastness (3:10). Timothy knew exactly what Paul was talking about, for this was the very way the apostle had mentored Timothy.

     Timothy had joined Paul’s apostolic band early on in what is termed Paul’s second missionary journey, that is, around 48 or 49 AD (Acts 16:1–3). As he traveled with Paul he saw firsthand what Paul later called his doctrine, manner of life, purpose, faith, longsuffering, love, perseverance, persecutions, and afflictions (2 Tim. 3:10–11). Timothy grew to know and embrace Paul’s theology and doctrinal convictions. He learned that at the heart of all genuinely Christian theology is God: the Father, His Son, and the Holy Spirit. He came to be grounded in the fact that the gospel is centered on the death and resurrection of Christ, the only way that men and women can come into a true and eternally beneficent relationship with this God, the creator of all that exists.

     But Timothy also came to follow the way Paul lived, how he made decisions and determined the best use of his time. He learned Paul’s purpose for living, namely, the glorification of God and of His Son, Christ Jesus. Timothy absorbed Paul’s love for the church and compassion for those who were held in the darkness of sin. And he saw the way that Paul responded with patience and perseverance to difficulties and the fact that the apostle did not waver in his commitment to Christ despite persecution and affliction. In short, as Paul and Timothy spent this large amount of time together, Timothy’s soul began to mirror that of Paul, and his mind became increasingly attuned to the wavelengths of the apostle’s thinking (Phil. 2:19–22). This is mentoring.

     Here is a pattern of pastoral training that must again shape the way that teaching takes place in our seminaries. The necessity of training the mind naturally requires academic excellence. But as seminary professors, our task is not finished when we walk out of the classroom. We need to get to know our students — their joys and heartaches, their hopes, aspirations, and concerns. They need to get to know us — our goals in life, our passions, and even our weaknesses. And this can only be done, if we, like Paul with Timothy, walk with them and they with us. This sort of theological education demands a transparency of soul and a knitting together of hearts, as well as the kindling of flame in the mind. In a very real sense, this sort of theological education and mentoring is patterned on the incarnation.

     The great challenge, of course, in this way of incarnational mentoring is that it takes time. For many professors, time seems to be such a scarce commodity. I vividly recall some thirty years ago when I was doing doctoral studies at the University of Toronto, being told by Dr. Richard Longenecker, then my New Testament professor and in some ways a mentor to me, that if I thought I was busy in the doctoral program, just wait until I was teaching. I didn’t believe him, but he was right. Most seminary professors are busy men: teaching in seminary and in the church, as well as seeking to maintain an academic career and be fathers and husbands, sons, and friends. Where will we ever find the time to mentor as Paul did?

     Three years before Basil Manly Jr., one of the four founding faculty of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, committed himself to the task of being a seminary professor in 1859, he stated that the “cause of theological education is one dearer to me than almost any other and I esteem no sacrifice too great for its promotion.” The sacrifices that especially he, James Petigru Boyce, and John Broadus were called upon to make for this seminary are well-known. Most seminary professors today are not called to walk such a road of sacrifice as those men were, but I am convinced that something of the spirit that animated Manly’s words must grip us.

     Today, more than in the past, we are aware of the very real danger of our ministries crowding out other areas of vital importance — our devotion to wife and children, for example. Thus, while we cannot echo Manly’s sentiments without some qualification, we can nevertheless affirm the key point he was seeking to make. Leadership in the church is so important that we should be prepared to go to great lengths to see future leaders of the church trained. And that training, if it is to be biblical, must involve mentoring à la Paul! This will, of necessity, take time. But, from the point of view of eternity, it will be time well spent.

• 1     Rediscovering the Church Fathers: Who They Were and How They Shaped the Church
• 2     Eight Women of Faith
• 3     Owen on the Christian Life: Living for the Glory of God in Christ
• 4     To the Ends of the Earth: Calvin's Missional Vision and Legacy
• 5     Warfield on the Christian Life (Redesign): Living in Light of the Gospel
• 6     The Christian Lover: The Sweetness of Love and Marriage in the Letters of Believers
• 7     The Reformers and Puritans as Spiritual Mentors: Hope Is Kindled (Christian Mentor)
• 8     Rediscovering the Church Fathers: Who They Were and How They Shaped the Church by Michael A. G. Haykin (2011-03-02)
• 9     The Spirit of God: The Exegesis of 1 and 2 Corinthians in the Pneumatomachian Controversy of the Fourth Century (Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae) by Michael A G Haykin (1994-08-01)
• 10     William E. Payne: A Memoir

Is the Church Full of Hypocrites?

By R.C. Sproul 10/1/2009

     About thirty years ago, my close friend and colleague, Archie Parrish, who at that time led the Evangelism Explosion (EE) program in Fort Lauderdale, came to me with a request. He indicated that on the thousands of evangelistic visits the EE teams made, they kept a record of responses people made to discussions of the gospel. They collated the most frequent questions and objections people raised about the Christian faith and grouped these inquiries or objections into the ten most frequently encountered. Dr. Parrish asked if I would write a book answering those objections for evangelists to use in their outreach. That effort resulted in my book Objections Answered, now called Reason to Believe: A Response to Common Objections to Christianity. Among the top ten objections raised was the objection that the church is filled with hypocrites. At that point in time, Dr. D. James Kennedy responded to this objection by replying, “Well, there’s always room for one more.” He cautioned people that if they found a perfect church, they ought not to join it, since that would ruin it.

     The term hypocrite came from the world of Greek drama. It was used to describe the masks that the players used to dramatize certain roles. Even today, the theatre is symbolized by the twin masks of comedy and tragedy. In antiquity, certain players played more than one role, and they indicated their role by holding a mask in front of their face. That’s the origin of the concept of hypocrisy.

     But the charge that the church is full of hypocrites is manifestly false. Though no Christian achieves the full measure of sanctification in this life, that we all struggle with ongoing sin does not justly yield the verdict of hypocrisy. A hypocrite is someone who does things he claims he does not do. Outside observers of the Christian church see people who profess to be Christians and observe that they sin. Since they see sin in the lives of Christians, they rush to the judgment that therefore these people are hypocrites. If a person claims to be without sin and then demonstrates sin, surely that person is a hypocrite. But for a Christian simply to demonstrate that he is a sinner does not convict him of hypocrisy.

     The inverted logic goes something like this: All hypocrites are sinners. John is a sinner; therefore, John is a hypocrite. Anyone who knows the laws of logic knows that this syllogism is not valid. If we would simply change the charge from “the church is full of hypocrites” to “the church is full of sinners,” we would be quick to plead guilty. The church is the only institution I know of that requires an admission of being a sinner in order to be a member. The church is filled with sinners because the church is the place where sinners who confess their sins come to find redemption from their sins. So in this sense, simply because the church is filled with sinners does not justify the conclusion that the church is filled with hypocrites. Again, all hypocrisy is sin, but not all sin is the sin of hypocrisy.

     When we look at the problem of hypocrisy in the New Testament era, we see it most clearly displayed in the lives of those who claimed to be the most righteous. The Pharisees were a group of people who by definition saw themselves as separated from the normal sinfulness of the masses. They began well, seeking a life of devoted godliness and submission to the law of God. However, when their behavior failed to reach their ideals, they began to engage in pretense. They pretended they were more righteous than they were. They gave an outward facade of righteousness, which merely served to conceal a radical corruption in their lives.

     Though the church is not filled with hypocrites, there is no denying that hypocrisy is a sin that is not limited or restricted to New Testament Pharisees. It is a sin with which Christians must grapple. A high standard of spiritual and righteous behavior has been set for the church. We often are embarrassed by our failures to reach these high goals and are inclined to pretend that we have reached a higher plateau of righteousness than we’ve actually attained. When we do that, we put on the mask of the hypocrite and come under the judgment of God for that particular sin. When we find ourselves enmeshed in this type of pretense, an alarm bell should go off in our brains that we need to rush back to the cross and to Christ and to understand where our true righteousness resides. We have to find in Christ, not a mask that conceals our face, but an entire wardrobe of clothing, which is His righteousness. Indeed, it is only under the guise of the righteousness of Christ, received by faith, that any of us can ever have a hope of standing before a holy God. To wear the garments of Christ in faith is not an act of hypocrisy. It is an act of redemption.

Robert Charles Sproul, 2/13/1939 – 12/14/2017 was an American theologian, author, and ordained pastor in the Presbyterian Church in America. Dr. R.C. Sproul was founder and chairman of Ligonier Ministries, an international Christian education and discipleship organization located near Orlando, Fla. He was also copastor of Saint Andrew’s Chapel in Sanford, Fla., chancellor of Reformation Bible College, and executive editor of Tabletalk magazine. Dr. Sproul has contributed dozens of articles to national evangelical publications, has spoken at conferences, churches, and schools around the world, and has written more than one hundred books. He also served as general editor of the Reformation Study Bible.

Marriage Has Not Evolved...Until Now

By Sean McDowell 3/7/2017

     One of the most common reasons give in favor of supporting same-sex marriage is the claim that marriage has evolved over time. In his majority ruling for the 2015 Supreme Court case Obergefell v. Hodges, Justice Anthony Kennedy wrote:

     “The history of marriage is one of both continuity and change. That institution—even as confined to opposite-sex relations—has evolved over time.”

     He argues that expanding marriage to include same-sex couples is the next logical evolutionary step. In support of this claim, Kennedy cites how marriage was once viewed as an arrangement and then became a voluntary contract between a man and a woman. And he also notes that the state used to legally consider marriage a male-dominated institution. As a result, he concludes:

Sean McDowell, Ph.D. is a professor of Christian Apologetics at Biola University, a best-selling author of over 18 books, an internationally recognized speaker, a part-time high school teacher, and the Resident Scholar for Summit, California. Follow him on Twitter: @sean_mcdowell and his blog: seanmcdowell.org.Books By Sean McDowell

Is God Just a Human Invention? And Seventeen Other Questions Raised by the New Atheists
A New Kind of Apologist: *Adopting Fresh Strategies *Addressing the Latest Issues *Engaging the Culture
The Beauty of Intolerance: Setting a Generation Free to Know Truth and Love
Same-Sex Marriage: A Thoughtful Approach to God's Design for Marriage (Thoughtful Response)
ETHIX: Being Bold in a Whatever World
More Than a Carpenter

Read The Psalms In "1" Year

Psalm 69

7 For it is for your sake that I have borne reproach,
that dishonor has covered my face.
8 I have become a stranger to my brothers,
an alien to my mother’s sons.

9 For zeal for your house has consumed me,
and the reproaches of those who reproach you have fallen on me.
10 When I wept and humbled my soul with fasting,
it became my reproach.
11 When I made sackcloth my clothing,
I became a byword to them.
12 I am the talk of those who sit in the gate,
and the drunkards make songs about me.

13 But as for me, my prayer is to you, O LORD.
At an acceptable time, O God,
in the abundance of your steadfast love answer me in your saving faithfulness.
14 Deliver me
from sinking in the mire;
let me be delivered from my enemies
and from the deep waters.
15 Let not the flood sweep over me,
or the deep swallow me up,
or the pit close its mouth over me.

The Interpretation Of Prophecy

By John Walvoord

General Assumptions in Biblical Interpretation

     As in all sciences, theology is based on assumptions. Mankind finds itself living in an ordered world with observable natural laws and evidence of design. The nature of the ordered world in which we live reveals an evident interrelationship of purposes requiring the existence of a God who is infinite in power, rational, and has the basic elements of personality, intellect, sensibility, and will. The observable facts of nature as well as revelation through Scripture must be consistent with such a God. These facts, organized into a rational system, are the substance of theology, making it a science embracing revealed facts about God, creation, and history. To the observable facts in nature, Scripture reveals the additional truth that the God of history is gracious, holy, loving, patient, faithful, good, and has infinite attributes of knowledge, power, and rational purpose.

     What is true of theology as a whole is especially true of biblical interpretation. In approaching the interpretation of the Bible, at least four assumptions are essential.

     1. In order to have a coherent and consistent interpretation of the Bible, it is necessary to assume that there is ample proof that the Bible was inspired by the Holy Spirit and that the human authors were guided in the writing of Scripture and in the selection of the very words that they used. Accordingly, the Bible is an  inerrant revelation  containing all the truth that God intended to be included and excluding all facts that were not intended to be included. As the inspired Word of God, it should be expected that, properly interpreted, the Bible does not contradict itself.

 2 Timothy 3:16 (NASB95) All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness;

     2. The Bible was intended to communicate truth about God and the universe, to record historical facts, to reveal ethical principles, to provide wisdom for human judgments, to reveal moral and material values, and to provide prediction of future events.

     3. The Bible  progressively reveals the truth of God in such a way that changes in the moral rule of life are recognized, such as the contrast between the Mosaic law and the present age of grace. Later revelation may replace earlier revelation as a standard of faith without contradicting it.

     4. Though the Bible is an unusual book, in many respects it is a normative piece of literature, using words to convey truth, and yet providing a great variety of literary forms, such as history, poetry, and prophecy, and sometimes using normal figures of speech. Though a supernatural book, the Bible nevertheless speaks in normative ways that can be illustrated in literature outside the Bible.

General Rules of Biblical Interpretation

     Though the interpretation of the Bible is an exceedingly complex problem, if certain general rules are followed, they will keep the interpreter from misunderstanding Scripture.

     1. In approaching Scripture, first of all there must be study of the words that are used, their general usages, variety of meaning, historical context, theological context, and any determination of the probable meaning of the word used in a particular context.

     2. Words in Scripture are used in a grammatical context that should be observed, including such matters as whether the word is used in a statement of fact, a command, a desired goal, or an application to a particular situation.

     3. In any interpretation it is most important to decipher to whom the Scripture is addressed, as this involves the application of the statement.

     4. Scripture should never be interpreted in isolation from its context. Careful thought should be given to the immediate context, the general context, and the context of the whole of Scripture. This will serve to relate the revelation contained to other divine revelations.

     5. The literary character of the Scripture interpreted should be taken into consideration as the Bible is written in a variety of literary styles — such as history, poetry, worship, prediction — and uses a variety of figures of speech. These factors determine the interpretation of a particular text.

     6. If the Scripture is inspired by the Holy Spirit and without error, it is important to compare any particular text to all other Scripture that might be relative. For instance, the book of  Revelation may often be interpreted through a study of the book of  Daniel. One Scripture will serve to cast light on other Scriptures.

     7. Though the Bible is largely written in factual style to be interpreted as a normal, factual presentation, the Bible, like all other literature, uses figures of speech, and they should be recognized for their intended meaning. All forms of biblical literature ultimately yield a factual truth.

     8. In interpreting the Bible, one must seek the guidance of the indwelling Holy Spirit who casts light on the Scriptures and guides its interpretation.

          __________________________________________________________________

Every Prophecy of the Bible: Clear Explanations for Uncertain Times

Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood…

By Lydia McGrew

     There is a striking similarity between the language Jesus uses concerning eating his flesh and drinking his blood in what is known as the bread of life discourse, found only in John 6, and in the institution of the Lord’s Supper, found in all three of the Synoptic Gospels but not in John.

(Jn 6:53–56) 53 So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54 Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. 55 For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. 56 Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. ESV

     Compare this passage to, for example, the words of institution in the Gospel of Luke:

(Lk 22:19–20) 19 And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 20 And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. ESV

     Mark and Matthew also refer to eating Jesus’ body and drinking his blood in parallel passages (Mark 14.22– 24 and Matt 26.26– 29).

(Mk 14:22–24) 22 And as they were eating, he took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to them, and said, “Take; this is my body.” 23 And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, and they all drank of it. 24 And he said to them, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. ESV

(Mt 26:26–29) 26 Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” 27 And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, 28 for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. 29 I tell you I will not drink again of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” ESV

     There is a well-known tradition of interpretation that insists that John 6 is absolutely not about Communion in any sense at all but only about believing in Jesus by faith, whether or not in connection with receiving Communion. Perhaps the most famous proponent of this view was Martin Luther, 6 who insisted that “the sixth chapter of John does not refer at all to the Supper.” 7 Luther, as it happens, was a sacramentalist, holding to consubstantiation (the view that in some sense the body and blood of Jesus are “in, with, and under” the elements of bread and wine in Communion), but many non-sacramentalists have, quite understandably, adopted Luther’s interpretation of John 6 as having nothing whatsoever to do with Communion.

     I should admit frankly that this insistence that Jesus’ words in John 6 do not have anything to do with the Lord’s Supper seems to me extreme and implausible. Assuming that Jesus spoke the words in John 6 at all (a point to which I will return shortly), it would seem that such an insistence means that the exact similarity of the wording between the passages is at most the result of Jesus’ general fondness for the metaphor of eating his flesh and drinking his blood. Moreover, this view would seem to mean that in John 6 the metaphor refers to believing in him by faith at any time and in any context but that in the words of institution it refers more specifically to believing on him and remembering his death when one partakes of Communion. Despite the similarity of wording, the disciples, apparently, were not expected to recognize his words at the institution as connected in any special way to the discourse which made such a stir, recorded in John 6, but were to have understood both teachings merely to use a striking and even disturbing metaphor for faith in Jesus in some context or another. All of this seems to me quite strained, perhaps motivated in part by the idea that Jesus could not have been speaking in John 6 about a rite that he had not yet instituted. My own interpretive conclusions notwithstanding, however, the claim that John 6 is not at all about Communion cannot be entirely set aside, if for no other reason than that (I suspect) a fair number of the readers of this book accept that interpretation.

     Alternatively, one can hold that Jesus was speaking of the Lord’s Supper in John 6, not in the sense that the crowds were expected to understand this at that time by his teaching, but in the sense that he was alluding cryptically to something that he would make clearer later to those who continued to follow him. This sort of veiled allusion would hardly be uncharacteristic of Jesus’ teaching as we find it elsewhere. For example, his words to Nicodemus about the Holy Spirit in John 3 would not have been clear to Nicodemus at the time but would have become much clearer in the light of Pentecost. The statement, “Destroy this Temple, and in three days I will raise it up” recorded in John 2.19 is glossed by John, in hindsight, as referring to the resurrection, but Jesus himself apparently did not explain it at the time.

     If one takes Jesus to be teaching in John 6 in anticipation of his own later institution of the Lord’s Supper, there is a further division that can be made: One can hold a memorialist view and take it that Jesus was alluding in advance to the Lord’s Supper and that the disciples would have understood only later that he was urging the importance of remembering his death by means of that commanded rite. Or one can hold some version of sacramentalism, whether it be transubstantiation, consubstantiation, or a spiritual Real Presence view.

     What does all of this have to do with undesigned coincidences? Can one agree that there is an undesigned coincidence between John 6 and the words of institution if one holds Luther’s view on the interpretation of John 6?

     If one holds that Jesus was foreshadowing the Lord’s Supper in John 6, regardless of whether or not one holds a sacramental view of Communion, one can view the similarity of language (rightly, I believe) as a straightforward, familiar type of undesigned coincidence between the passages. The passage in John 6 raises the question, “Why did Jesus talk to the people about such an odd thing as eating his flesh and drinking his blood?” and this question is answered by the institution of the Lord’s Supper. The institution is recorded only in the Synoptics, and Jesus’ discourse on himself as the bread of life and on the necessity of eating his flesh and drinking his blood is recorded only in John. The answer to the question is that he spoke this way in John 6 in anticipation of instituting the Lord’s Supper at the end of his ministry, expecting his followers to put it all together later if they persevered in discipleship (as contrasted with those who fell away in John 6.66– 67). This is the kind of undesigned coincidence we have seen already, in which a question is raised by one Gospel and the answer found only in one or more of the other Gospels. Such a coincidence confirms both accounts by means of the fit between question and answer.

     But what if one is insistent that John 6 is not about the Lord’s Supper at all? In that case, the following argument still applies: Suppose, hypothetically, that Jesus did not give the bread of life discourse at all. Suppose, for example, that John made it up and inserted it into the Gospel for theological reasons. In that case, where did he get the language about eating Jesus’ flesh and drinking his blood? Even someone who thinks that there is no actual teaching about Communion in the passage should recognize that, if the passage were not genuine, the language put into Jesus’ mouth almost certainly would have been borrowed from the words of institution in the Synoptic Gospels. But in that case, a critic who denies the authenticity of the discourse in John 6 faces a conundrum. Why did John not include the institution of Communion in his own Gospel? Why does he leave the odd and difficult bread of life discourse dangling, using eucharistic-sounding language but without making any connection to the very passage from which he borrowed that language? Indeed, even if John had included the institution of the Lord’s Supper, the connection would be inexplicit, as the two passages would come far apart in the Gospel without any obvious connection. One might have expected even more than mere inclusion of the Lord’s Supper if the bread of life discourse is an invention. Just as John pauses to inform the reader that Jesus spoke of the temple of his body in John 2, one might expect John to pause after noting the disgust and puzzlement of the crowd in John 6 and gloss Jesus’ words as referring to his body given in the Lord’s Supper. 8 That, at any rate, would not be an unreasonable expectation if he had gone to the trouble to invent the discourse. But at least we would expect that he would include the institution of the Lord’s Supper itself. This is all the more likely since the purpose of such an invention of the discourse would presumably be theological, but including the words about eating his flesh and drinking his blood without any connection to the Supper or to any other passage on the same theme does little to serve a theological agenda.

     Here it should be noted that the argument from undesigned coincidences often gives us evidence that the Gospel writers saw themselves first and foremost as witnesses to the deeds and words of Jesus Christ, not primarily as authors of literary and/ or theologically sculpted works. Those two roles are not necessarily in conflict, so long as the author of the literary or theological work is always scrupulous about his role as a witness— for example, so long as he does not ever “make” things happen in a way contrary to the way that, to the best of his knowledge, they actually happened. But it is particularly noticeable that the Gospel authors often seem to write with the lack of affectation that we find in a person whose primary purpose is getting important information out there, getting down what happened, making it available, rather than in one whose primary purpose is to fit together what he writes in a polished manner. The author of the Gospel of John is certainly theological, perhaps more so than any of the other Gospel writers. But again and again we find him including items in his Gospel without their full explanations, apparently just because he wanted his readers to know that they happened. That sort of approach on John’s part is a perfectly good explanation of the presence of the John 6 discourse and the absence of the account of the institution of the Lord’s Supper in John. The fact that we find John apparently doing this type of thing repeatedly argues for the priorities of the witness rather than the priorities of the theologian or literary craftsman, and it fits well with statements within the Gospel itself, most notably John 19.35: “He who saw it has borne witness— his testimony is true, and he knows that he is telling the truth— that you also may believe.”

     One does not need to hold that Jesus’ words in John 6, taken as genuine, are actually about the Lord’s Supper to see the force of this argument. If John had faked the discourse, it is highly unlikely that he would not include the institution. Since he does not include the institution but does include the discourse, leaving it as a puzzle over which theologians have argued down the ages, the better explanation is that he includes the discourse because it actually happened and because he knows that it actually happened and wants to tell about it. He doesn’t include the Lord’s Supper when he tells about the Last Supper because he has other things he wants to include at that point in his Gospel instead that are not found in the Synoptic Gospels— things like Jesus’ washing the disciples’ feet (John 13), the high priestly prayer (John 17), and several chapters of additional teachings of Jesus found only in John’s account of Jesus’ last night with his disciples. Since his purpose is to be a witness to Jesus more than the crafter of a unified theological and literary work of art, and since he is in all events testifying to what he knows is true, he does not worry about the fact that the bread of life discourse with its surprising language is not particularly connected to anything else in his own Gospel.

     If you take the discourse in John 6 to be about the Lord’s Supper, you will take the undesigned coincidence to be of one kind: What lies behind both it and the words of institution is the reality that Jesus said both of them and that Jesus wanted in both of them to teach about the Lord’s Supper. On the other hand, if you take the discourse in John 6 to be about believing on Jesus and not about the Lord’s Supper at all, you will take the undesigned coincidence to be of a somewhat different kind: On that view, the coincidence of language is explained by Jesus’ preference for that particular metaphor, which he used in both places as a way of teaching about believing in him in various contexts.

     In either case, the coincidence supports the reliability of John in his unique material.

Hidden in Plain View: Undesigned Coincidences in the Gospels and Acts

     Lydia McGrew

1. The Word of Forgiveness

A.W. Pink from The Seven Sayings of the Savior on the Cross

     "Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."

     2. Here we see Christ identified with his people.

     "Father, forgive them." On no previous occasion did Christ make such a request of the Father. Never before had he invoked the Father’s forgiveness of others. Hitherto he forgave himself. To the man sick of the palsy he had said, "Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee" (Matthew 9:2). To the woman who washed his feet with her tears in the house of Simon, he said, "Thy sins are forgiven" (Luke 7:48). Why then should he now ask the Father to forgive, instead of directly pronouncing forgiveness himself?

     Forgiveness of sin is a divine prerogative. The Jewish scribes were right when they reasoned "Who can forgive sins but God only?" (Mark 2:7). But you say, Christ was God. Truly; but man also - the God-man. He was the Son of God that had become the Son of Man with the express purpose of offering himself as a sacrifice for sin. And when the Lord Jesus cried "Father, forgive them" he was on the cross, and there he might not exercise his divine prerogatives. Mark carefully his own words, and then behold the marvellous accuracy of scripture. He had said, "The Son of Man hath power on earth to forgive sins" (Matthew 9:6). But he was no longer on earth! He had been "lifted up from the earth" (John 12:32)! Moreover, on the cross he was acting as our substitute; the just was about to die for the unjust. Hence it was that hanging there as our representative, he was no longer in the place of authority where he might exercise his own divine prerogatives, therefore takes he the position of a suppliant before the Father. Thus we say that when the blessed Lord Jesus cried, "Father, forgive them", we see him absolutely identified with his people. No longer was he in the position "on earth" where he had the "power" or "right" to forgive sins; instead, he intercedes for sinners - as we must.

     "Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."

     3. Here we see the divine estimate of sin and its consequent guilt.

     Under the Levitical economy God required that atonement should be made for sins of ignorance.

     "If a soul commit a trespass, and sin through ignorance, in the holy things of the Lord; then he shall bring for his trespass unto the Lord a ram without blemish out of the flocks, with thy estimation by shekels of silver, after the shekel of the sanctuary, for a trespass offering: And he shall make amends for the harm that he hath done in the holy thing, and shall add the fifth part thereto, and give it unto the priest: and the priest shall make an atonement for him with the ram of the trespass offering, and it shall be forgiven him" (Lev. 5:15, 16).

     And again we read:

     "And if ye have erred, and not observed all these commandments, which the Lord hath spoken unto Moses, even all that the Lord hath commanded you by the hand of Moses, from the day that the Lord commanded Moses, and henceforward among your generations; Then it shall be, if ought be committed by ignorance without the knowledge of the congregation, that all the congregation shall offer one young bullock for a burnt offering, for a sweet savour unto the Lord, with his meat offering, and his drink offering, according to the manner, and one kid of the goats for a sin offering. And the priest shall make an atonement for all the congregation of the children of Israel, and it shall be forgiven them; for it is ignorance: and they shall bring their offering, a sacrifice made by fire unto the Lord, and their sin offering before the Lord, for their ignorance" (Num. 15: 22-25).

     It is in view of such scriptures as these that we find David prayed, "Cleanse thou me from secret faults" (Ps. 19:12).

     Sin is always sin in the sight of God whether we are conscious of it or not. Sins of ignorance need atonement just as truly as do conscious sins. God is holy, and he will not lower his standard of righteousness to the level of our ignorance. Ignorance is not innocence. As a matter of fact, ignorance is more culpable now than it was in the days of Moses. We have no excuse for our ignorance. God has clearly and fully revealed his will. The Bible is in our hands, and we cannot plead ignorance of its contents except to condemn our laziness. God has spoken and by his word we shall be judged.

     And yet the fact remains that we are ignorant of many things, and the fault and blame are ours. And this does not minimize the enormity of our guilt. Sins of ignorance need the divine forgiveness as our Lord’s prayer here plainly shows. Learn then how high is God’s standard, how great is our need, and praise him for an atonement of infinite sufficiency, which cleanseth from all sin.

     "Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."

The Seven Sayings of the Savior on the Cross

The Continual Burnt Offering (Mark 6:4-5)

By H.A. Ironside - 1941

June 28

Proverbs 11:2  When pride comes, then comes disgrace,
but with the humble is wisdom.   ESV

What will it profit, when life here is o’er
Though earth’s fleeting love has been mine,
If, seeking its gifts—I fail to secure
The riches of God’s love divine?

What will it profit? My soul, stop and think!
What balance that day will declare!
Life’s record laid bare, will gain turn to loss,
And leave me at last to despair!
--- Grace E. Troy

The Institutes of the Christian Religion

Translated by Henry Beveridge

     CHAPTER 15.

OF BAPTISM.

There are two parts of this chapter,--I. Dissertation on the two ends of Baptism, sec. 1-13. II. The second part may be reduced to four heads. Of the use of Baptism, sec. 14, 15. Of the worthiness or unworthiness of the minister, sec. 16-18. Of the corruptions by which this sacrament was polluted, sec. 19. To whom reference is had in the dispensation, sec. 20-22.

Sections.

1. Baptism defined. Its primary object. This consists of three things. 1. To attest the forgiveness of sins.

2. Passages of Scripture proving the forgiveness of sins.

3. Forgiveness not only of past but also of future sins. This no encouragement to license in sin.

4 Refutation of those who share forgiveness between Baptism and Repentance.

5 Second thing in Baptism--viz. to teach that we are ingrafted into Christ for mortification and newness of life.

6. Third thing in Baptism--viz. to teach us that we are united to Christ so as to be partakers of all his blessings. Second and third things conspicuous in the baptism both of John and the apostles.

7. Identity of the baptism of John and the apostles.

8. An objection to this refuted.

9. The benefits of baptism typified to the Israelites by the passage of the Red Sea and the pillar of cloud.

10. Objection of those who imagine that there is some kind of perfect renovation after baptism. Original depravity remains after baptism. Its existence in infants. The elect after baptism are righteous in this life only by imputation.

11. Original corruption trying to the pious during the whole course of their lives. They do not, on this account, seek a licence for sin. They rather walk more cautiously and safely in the ways of the Lord.

12. The trouble occasioned by corruption, shown by the example and testimony of the Apostle Paul.

13. Another end of baptism is to serve as our confession to men.

14. Second part of the chapter. Of baptism as a confirmation of our faith.

15. This illustrated by the examples of Cornelius and Paul. Of the use of baptism as a confession of faith.

16. Baptism not affected by the worthiness or unworthiness of the minister. Hence no necessity to rebaptise those who were baptised under the Papacy.

17. Nothing in the argument that those so baptised remained some years blind and unbelieving. The promise of God remains firm. God, in inviting the Jews to repentance, does not enjoin them to be again circumcised.

18. No ground to allege that Paul rebaptised certain of John's disciples. The baptism of John. What it is to be baptised in the name of Christ.

19. The corruptions introduced into baptism. The form of pure Christian baptism. Immersion or sprinkling should be left free.

20. To whom the dispensation of baptism belongs. Not to private individuals or women, but to the ministers of the Church. Origin of the baptism of private individuals and women. An argument in favour of it refuted.

21. Exploded also by Tertullian and Epiphanius.

22. Objection founded on the case of Zipporah. Answer. Children dying before baptism not excluded from heaven, provided the want of it was not caused by negligence or contempt.

1. Baptism is the initiatory sign by which we are admitted to the fellowship of the Church, that being ingrafted into Christ we may be accounted children of God. Moreover, the end for which God has given it (this I have shown to be common to all mysteries) is, first, that it may be conducive to our faith in him; and, secondly, that it may serve the purpose of a confession among men. The nature of both institutions we shall explain in order. Baptism contributes to our faith three things, which require to be treated separately. The first object, therefore, for which it is appointed by the Lord, is to be a sign and evidence of our purification, or (better to explain my meaning) it is a kind of sealed instrument by which he assures us that all our sins are so deleted, covered, and effaced, that they will never come into his sight, never be mentioned, never imputed. For it is his will that all who have believed, be baptised for the remission of sins. Hence those who have thought that baptism is nothing else than the badge and mark by which we profess our religion before men, in the same way as soldiers attest their profession by bearing the insignia of their commander, having not attended to what was the principal thing in baptism; and this is, that we are to receive it in connection with the promise, "He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved" (Mark 16:16).

2. In this sense is to be understood the statement of Paul, that "Christ loved the Church, and gave himself for it, that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word" (Eph. 5:25, 26); and again, "not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Ghost" (Titus 3:5). Peter also says that "baptism also doth now save us" (1 Peter 3:21). For he did not mean to intimate that our ablution and salvation are perfected by water, or that water possesses in itself the virtue of purifying, regenerating, and renewing; nor does he mean that it is the cause of salvation, but only that the knowledge and certainty of such gifts are perceived in this sacrament. This the words themselves evidently show. For Paul connects together the word of life and baptism of water, as if he had said, by the gospel the message of our ablution and sanctification is announced; by baptism this message is sealed. And Peter immediately subjoins, that that baptism is "not the putting away of the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good conscience toward God, which is of faith." Nay, the only purification which baptism promises is by means of the sprinkling of the blood of Christ, who is figured by water from the resemblance to cleansing and washing. Who, then, can say that we are cleansed by that water which certainly attests that the blood of Christ is our true and only laver? So that we cannot have a better argument to refute the hallucination of those who ascribe the whole to the virtue of water than we derive from the very meaning of baptism, which leads us away as well from the visible element which is presented to our eye, as from all other means, that it may fix our minds on Christ alone.

3. Nor is it to be supposed that baptism is bestowed only with reference to the past, so that, in regard to new lapses into which we fall after baptism, we must seek new remedies of expiation in other so-called sacraments, just as if the power of baptism had become obsolete. To this error, in ancient times, it was owing that some refused to be initiated by baptism until their life was in extreme danger, and they were drawing their last breath, that they might thus obtain pardon for all the past. Against this preposterous precaution ancient bishops frequently inveigh in their writings. We ought to consider that at whatever time we are baptised, we are washed and purified once for the whole of life. Wherefore, as often as we fall, we must recall the remembrance of our baptism, and thus fortify our minds, so as to feel certain and secure of the remission of sins. For though, when once administered, it seems to have passed, it is not abolished by subsequent sins. For the purity of Christ was therein offered to us, always is in force, and is not destroyed by any stain: it wipes and washes away all our defilements. Nor must we hence assume a licence of sinning for the future (there is certainly nothing in it to countenance such audacity), but this doctrine is intended only for those who, when they have sinned, groan under their sins burdened and oppressed, that they may have wherewith to support and console themselves, and not rush headlong into despair. Thus Paul says that Christ was made a propitiation for us for the remission of sins that are past (Rom. 3:25). By this he denies not that constant and perpetual forgiveness of sins is thereby obtained even till death: he only intimates that it is designed by the Father for those poor sinners who, wounded by remorse of conscience, sigh for the physician. To these the mercy of God is offered. Those who, from hopes of impunity, seek a licence for sin, only provoke the wrath and justice of God.

4. I know it is a common belief that forgiveness, which at our first regeneration we receive by baptism alone, is after baptism procured by means of penitence and the keys (see chap. 19 sec. 17). But those who entertain this fiction err from not considering that the power of the keys, of which they speak, so depends on baptism, that it ought not on any account to be separated from it. The sinner receives forgiveness by the ministry of the Church; in other words, not without the preaching of the gospel. And of what nature is this preaching? That we are washed from our sins by the blood of Christ. And what is the sign and evidence of that washing if it be not baptism? We see, then, that that forgiveness has reference to baptism. This error had its origin in the fictitious sacrament of penance, on which I have already touched. What remains will be said at the proper place. There is no wonder if men who, from the grossness of their minds, are excessively attached to external things, have here also betrayed the defect,--if not contented with the pure institution of God, they have introduced new helps devised by themselves, as if baptism were not itself a sacrament of penance. But if repentance is recommended during the whole of life, the power of baptism ought to have the same extent. Wherefore, there can be no doubt that all the godly may, during the whole course of their lives, whenever they are vexed by a consciousness of their sins, recall the remembrance of their baptism, that they may thereby assure themselves of that sole and perpetual ablution which we have in the blood of Christ.

     Christian Classics Ethereal Library / Public Domain

     Institutes of the Christian Religion