The Impossibility of Doing Good with a Bad Conscience

The secret's out. I saw these signs on  a ride
the day after I stayed up all night writing most of this

It's no secret to anyone who reads my blog or has known me for longer than a few years that I am continually plagued by an uneasy conscience. As one who professes to believe in a Savior who has secured total pardon for all my faults and the never-ending favor of God, occasionally I am awakened to the inconsistency of my guilt and God's faithful grace in spite of my weakness. The past few weeks have been one of those times, as I've gradually perceived a lack of faith in Christ's sufficiency driving my recent reclusive reflection at the expense of more pressing practical priorities. The reason I keep coming back to Reformation theology and its emphasis on justification by faith is that I am by nature and functional conviction not Reformed Protestant, but rather very monkish and religious and worksish, trying to assuage my guilty conscience by things I do and prayers I pray and inward spiritual feelings I attain. Myers-Briggs says the second most common occupation for my personality is a brother in a Roman Catholic religious order. The number one occupation is a sister in such an order. I've been tempted on several occasions.

One of my religious habits is observing Reformation Day, the anniversary of Martin Luther's posting his 95 Theses on the door of the church in Wittenburg, October 31, 1517. For the past few years I've made a habit of pondering particularly Lutheran themes during the month of October, and of watching the movie Luther on or near Halloween, in memory of the two years I focused on such things while teaching Bible to 8th, 9th, and 10th graders. After watching the film again Monday night, and seeing Joseph Fiennes portray Luther's transformation from fear, trembling, and self-loathing introspection to bold, daring, self-sacrificing endeavors for others, I recalled with refreshing poignancy the insight I received while wrestling with the teachings of Jesus, Paul and James, and trying to teach what I saw.

November 1998. Midnight in my dark night of the soul.
Cochran, Ioiel, and beards helped keep me from total insanity. 

Until then, I saw Paul's teaching about justification by grace through faith in Christ and his finished work in confusing tension with Jesus' and James' teaching of justification by words and works, striving to enter by the narrow gate, and that only those who do the will of the Father will be saved, etc. "How can I have confidence that I'm justified now and will finally be declared righteous in the last judgment if that depends on what I do? I understand the idea that the works are the proof of the faith, but I don't see much proof, hard as I try to bear fruit and do good." Ironically enough, it was my evangelical Bible College that seemed to reinforce this absence of peace with all its emphasis on sharing the gospel and "victorious" living, with relatively little attention given to justification. And John Piper's book Future Grace. "The faith that justifies also sanctifies." I love John Piper and agree with this and most of what he says, but that statement killed me. All I could hear in it was "You're not very sanctified, so you're probably not very justified either." For most of the next decade, I sought to prove to myself that I was justified by being sanctified. It didn't work. Downward and inward I went, year after year, with little moments of relief that lasted about as long as my clean-shaven face in college.

Then one day in Autumn 2006, while teaching my fifth period ninth and tenth graders, I mentioned justification by faith as the fulfillment of the blessing promised to Abraham, as Galatians 3 teaches. Jesse Roberts stood up and said "Woohoo! Martin Luther! Justification by faith alone, baby!" To which Dusty Flowe replied "It can't be by faith alone, because then why would we need to be good?" (I might be misquoting Dusty, but it was something to that effect). When I realized there were several students who were troubled by this idea, and that I didn't understand or deeply believe what I claimed to believe, I naturally decided "Yeah! I don't get this at all, so I'll teach fourteen-year-olds about it!" Those two weeks of teaching were some of the hardest days not only of my stint as a teacher, but of my whole life. Parents pulling students out of my class, conferences with parents telling me I was upsetting their children's faith and my biblical exposition was garbage, even administrators telling me to stop teaching on the topic, all compounded by the fact that I lived alone at the time, and interacted with no one outside of teaching. I trembled at the thought they might be right, and that I was causing little ones to stumble. But I refused to leave off the topic; I felt my soul was at stake, and I was determined to resolve the tension I saw without regard for whether it left me Protestant, Catholic, or none of the above. I was also determined to push my students past a simplistic understanding of justification and of the divide between Catholic and Protestant. Through it, I gained the most precious insight into Scripture I've ever seen, and it marked the biggest turning point I've experienced in my ongoing battle with spiritual depression and doubt. Ever since, in the darkest moments of doubt, I find "the mercy seat is open still" and I take refuge in Christ, and not the works of my hands. I think one or two students might have actually picked up on my main points too.

So what's the insight? It's that justification by faith is not only congruent with the necessity of good works for the justification of proven faith (James 2) and a favorable verdict in the final judgment (Matthew 7, 12), it is the necessary foundation for them, the only way by which we may perform such acts of love, mercy, pure speech, and sacrificial obedience. For this reason, I prefer to state the biblical doctrine not as "justification by faith alone", which may be too easily misunderstood as faith that is alone, unaccompanied by other graces, but as "justification by faith only," because in Paul's sense of the word, pardon for sin and peace with God (Romans 3-5), justification is only by faith. There is no work we can do to attain it or secure it, only cast ourselves on the grace of God in Christ and rest in His promised righteousness.

In terms of Scripture, what I sought to understand and reconcile when I was teaching were the apparently contradictory teachings of Paul and James. Here are the key texts:

Paul: "Now to the one who works, his wages are not counted as a gift but as his due. And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness" (Romans 4:4-5)

"yet we know that a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, so we also have believed in Christ Jesus, in order to be justified by faith in Christ and not by works of the law, because by works of the law no one will be justified." (Galatians 2:16)

James: "You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone." (James 2:24)

Some read these and conclude that there were multiple, contradictory Christianities in the first century, and that the teaching of Paul cannot be reconciled with that of James. Without going into all the reasons why I disagree with that stance, let me offer a few thoughts on how James and Paul harmonize with each other beautifully.

A straightforward reading of James and Paul quickly reveals obvious differences in meaning in the three key terms of "faith" (compare Rom 4:18-21 and Gal 2:20 with Jas 2:14, 19), "justification" (Rom 4:6-8; 5:1; cf Jas 2:16, 20), and "works" (Rom 4:9-15; cf Jas 2:15-17). Paul affirms that acquittal and forgiveness before God are received as a gift by trusting in Christ instead of by law adherence, while James denies that we are shown righteous by believing (or saying we believe) in God, while neglecting to obey Him. Most interpreters harmonize the two in this manner, but the question still remains: how does James' teaching that Abraham was justified by works (2:21-24) relate to Paul's teaching that he was justified by faith (Rom 4:1-5)?

The first point to observe is that the two are looking at different events from Abraham's life: Paul speaks of his believing God's promise that he would have a son and his offspring would be as many as the stars (Genesis 15), and James of his offering that son as a sacrifice (Gen 22). Obviously, the event described by Paul happened first, but is there any other textual evidence to suggest that the faith in Paul's mind precedes Abraham's radical obedience expounded by James?

James connects the two episodes by calling the sacrifice of Isaac the fulfillment of Genesis 15:6: "You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by his works; and the Scripture was fulfilled that says, 'Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness'—and he was called a friend of God." (Jas 2:22-23). Abraham's faith in the promise of God became "active" and was "completed" in the sacrifice of Isaac. Genesis describes it as God's "testing" of Abraham (Gen 22:1), an idea which is consistent with the broader teaching of James, who opens his epistle with the well known words "Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."(James 1:2-4). The Greek word translated "trials" (πειρασμοῖς, peirasmois) shares the same root as "tested" in the Greek translation of Genesis 22:1, and the idea of "perfection" is also repeated in James' exposition of the sacrifice (Jas 2:22). So James himself connects his teaching with the focus of Paul's exposition of Abraham's faith.

In what manner then did Abraham's works complete and make active his faith by which he was justified? Did he believe God's promise in order to be counted righteous (Paul's sense of "justified") and then grit his moral teeth to complete his faith with works in order to be proved righteous (James' sense of "justified")? That wouldn't be too unreasonable an assumption, and we might conclude such with only James' teaching to go on. But Scripture tells us "By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac" (Heb 11:17). We might even understand that statement, as I once did, as "Abraham believed he needed to add works to his faith to finally be saved, so he obeyed." Functionally, that's probably where many, if not most, Christians live their daily lives, seeking to add works and obedience to their faith like icing on a cake. But that's not how Abraham obeyed.

Then Abraham said to his young men, “Stay here with the donkey; I and the boy will go over there and worship and come again to you.” And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on Isaac his son. And he took in his hand the fire and the knife. So they went both of them together. And Isaac said to his father Abraham, “My father!” And he said, “Here I am, my son.” He said, “Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” Abraham said, “God will provide for himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” So they went both of them together. (Genesis 22:5-8)   

"Abraham and Isaac", Johann Heinrich Ferdinand Olivier

In one of the most agonizing narratives, Abraham expresses his faith explicitly when Isaac asks him where the lamb is for the burnt offering. He believes that "God will provide for himself the lamb for the burnt offering" (v. 8, emphasis mine). Abraham's confidence that Isaac would somehow be delivered is also reflected in verse 5, as he tells his servants that he and Isaac will go worship and return. The letter to the Hebrews reveals another facet of Abraham's confidence, that "God was able even to raise him from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back" (Hebrews 11:19).

As Abraham performed this most radical, even scandalous, act of sacrificial obedience, he wasn't looking to what he would give God, but rather to what God would give him. He believed two things: God would provide a lamb for himself, and God was able to raise the son of promise from the dead. For those who are familiar with the Christian Scriptures, this foreshadowing of the gospel of Christ almost needs no comment. Belief in provision of a lamb for God anticipates how Christ's sacrifice first provides for God and the demonstration of his righteousness before it can benefit us.

for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God's righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to show his righteousness at the present time, so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus. (Romans 3:23-26, emphasis mine)

And he believed God would raise Isaac from the dead before he'd let his promise fail. So we are told:

if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved. (Romans 10:9-10) 

How was he so bold to believe these things? For one, he had learned through experience that he could have complete confidence in the promise of God. Again and again, God made promises, and Abraham acted in ways inconsistent with those promises, from lying twice about Sarah to protect himself (Genesis 12, 21) to taking her maid in an effort to help God keep his promise (Gen 16). But God kept giving more specific and more amazing promises, until at last He began to fulfill them with the birth of Isaac, when Abraham was 100 years old, and Sarah 90. Through all of it, Abraham had learned that God was on his side, continually pursuing him in grace. Had he been unsure of this, and responded to God's call to offer Isaac as a means to secure God's favor, he would have been paralyzed. But with the passive righteousness of faith, Abraham was able not only to obey, but to comfort both his servants and Isaac through the promised provision of God: "God will provide for himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son." How gut-wrenching that question must have been to Abraham, and how faithful, truthful, and compassionate was Abraham's answer!

We live in the shade of trees planted by our grandfather in the faith

If Abraham believed in Christ as he was presented to him, in seed form, and had such confidence and willingness to obey, how much more confidence and obedience may we have! In comparison, we have a massive tree of fulfillment in Jesus' incarnation, death, and resurrection, all explained and applied to us with the power and authority of the Spirit. We live in the shade of His tree, where we can see the yes to all of God's promises in Christ (2 Cor 1:19-21; 3:18). It's reasonable then that our call to radical sacrifice is more thorough (Rom 12:1), and the works which we will do far greater (John 14:12).

What are we to do then if we don't perceive the fruit of obedience in our lives? The answer is not "try harder." Rather,

since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us... let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience... let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works (Hebrews 10:19-25, emphasis mine)

Trying to justify myself through preaching a promise
I felt I couldn't believe, July 1998

Drawing near to God through Jesus for the cleansing of our conscience must precede and produce any outward works. When we confuse or equate good works with faith, as I've done many times, we don't please God and we don't benefit those around us. Take for example the time I served as a leader on a youth mission trip while burdened with a sense that I would not be saved unless I submitted to God by following fearful compulsions to evangelize strangers. When the mission leaders asked for a volunteer to share a message at an outreach event, I offered, dogged by my evil conscience and the speaker's teaching on responding to the "voice" of God. I failed to realize that the offer was intended for the students, not the leaders, but I was too wrapped up in myself to think about the students. Ironically, the text I shared was one of the most brilliant promises of gospel grace in all of Scripture, but from which I felt completely shut out.

As Luther said, "It is the supreme art of the devil that he can make the law out of the gospel," turning the grace of Christ and the call to believe in him into a meritorious work. But thankfully, "Even the devil is God's devil," as he also said, and "I myself...owe my papists many thanks for so beating, pressing, and frightening me through the devil's raging that they have turned me into a fairly good theologian, driving me to a goal I should never have reached..." (Preface to Luther's Works in German, 1539, emphasis mine). Leave out the "good theologian" part and insert in place of "papists" Keswick theology, John Piper's distillation of Daniel Fuller's doctrinal novelty, Baptist and Catholic parents, Vineyard teaching about the voice of God, and my own conscience, and you've got my story. All of them taught in some form or other a theology of glory, and drove me to the theology of the cross, which is the gospel of Jesus.

So what was the promise I preached without believing? It's perhaps the clearest statement of our confidence as those justified by faith in Christ:

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare (ἐφείσατο) his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? (Romans 8:31-32)

But this is not just a statement of our confidence, but echoes God's word to Abraham as he raised his knife to kill Isaac:

“Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld (LXX ἐφείσω) your son, your only son, from me.” (Genesis 22:12)

When I preached the words of Romans, I believed I was offering something valuable to God and saving myself. Ironically, it was that belief which made my offering worthless, for it's only as we're more impressed with God's grace in Christ than we are with our sacrifice that our sacrifice becomes acceptable to God.  Abraham demonstrated this self-forgetful faith when he called the name of that place, 'The LORD will provide'", and so it was said, “On the mount of the LORD it shall be provided (or he shall be seen)” (Genesis 22:14). Whether or not this mount was the location of Jesus' crucifixion geographically, we see here God's provision through Jesus Christ in vivid color. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and so in Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac, in my spiritual and theological angst, and wherever God calls his children to be conformed to Christ's sufferings, we may think God is destroying us, but because of the cross, He is actually saving us.