Friday, April 11, 2014

Sanctifiation



Sanctification

Under the old covenant, the priest stands and ministers before the altar day after day, offering the same sacrifices again and again, which can never take away sins. But our High Priest offered himself to God as a single sacrifice for sins, good for all time. Then he sat down in the place of honor at God’s right hand. There he waits until his enemies are humbled and made a footstool under his feet. For by that one offering he forever made perfect those who are being made holy. (Hebrews 10:11-14)

Over the years, I’ve played in a number of golf tournaments, usually to raise money for a charitable cause. I mean, if you’re going to spend money playing golf, it may as well go to a good cause, right? In one of those tournaments, the teams were comprised of a pro and three amateurs, and the lowest score of any player would be recorded. In other words, even on the holes where I stunk, if one of my partners did well, I did well. And that’s exactly what happened on seventeen of the eighteen holes.

Let’s take a long par five, for example. Where I score an eight but the pro, or one of my partners scores a four, guess whose score is recorded? Correct. The four. My eight is forgotten and the other player’s birdie is noted. And for duffers like me, I could really get used to that kind of scoring system. In other words, I got credit for the good work of someone else simply by virtue of being on his team.

And Christ has done the same for me and you. What my team did for me during that once-in-a-lifetime tournament, our Lord does for us every day of the week. Because of his performance, we close our daily round with a perfect score. It doesn’t matter if we hooked a few into the woods, or sliced one into the drink. What matters is that you showed up to play and joined the right foursome. In this case, your foursome’s pretty good: it’s you, the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. A better team doesn’t exist.

The fancy theological term for this is positional sanctification. Simply stated, it means that you are given a prize, not because of what you do, but because of who you know. But there’s a second term that was illustrated in my golf game that day. (What kind of mind finds theology on a fairway, especially so many years after the fact?) Because not only can we see a picture of positional sanctification, but there’s an equally clear portrait of progressive sanctification, too. Here’s what I mean.

Remember my contribution on the golf course? Right. One out of eighteen holes. On one hole I actually made a par. My par went on the card and carried the team. Want to guess which hole it was? Right again. The last one. Though I offered so little, however, I did improve with each hole. The pro kept giving me tips and changing my grip until I finally made a contribution. I improved progressively. The prize came because of the pro’s score. The improvement came because of the pro’s help.

Positional sanctification comes because of Christ’s work for us. Progressive sanctification comes because of Christ’s work in us. Both are gifts from God. “With one sacrifice he made perfect forever those who are being made holy.” (Heb. 10:14; my emphasis) See the blending of the tenses? “He made perfect” (positional sanctification) those who are “being made holy” (progressive sanctification). Positional and progressive sanctification. All in one verse.

Stated differently, it’s God’s work for us and God’s work in us. Neglect the first, and you grow fearful. Neglect the second, and you grow lazy. Both are essential, and both are seen in the moistened dirt at the base of the cross of Christ. Remember the scene?

“But one of the soldiers stuck his spear into Jesus’ side, and at once blood and water came out.” (John 19:34) Even a casual student of Scripture knows the connection between blood and mercy. As far back as the son of Adam, worshipers knew that “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness.” (Heb. 9:22) How Abel knew this truth is anyone’s guess, but somehow he knew to offer more than prayers and parsnip. He knew to offer a life. He knew to pour out more than his heart and his desires; he knew to pour out blood. So, with a field as his temple and the ground as his altar, Abel became the first to do what millions would later imitate. He offered a blood sacrifice for sins.

And those who eventually followed suit formed a long line behind him: Abraham, Moses, Gideon, Samson, Saul and David, just to name a few. They knew that the shedding of blood was necessary for the forgiveness of sins. Jacob knew it too; hence, the stones were stacked for an altar. Solomon knew it, and the Temple was built. Aaron knew it; therefore, the priesthood began. Haggai and Zechariah knew it; as a result, the Temple was built again.

But this long line ended at the cross. What Abel sought to accomplish in the field, God achieved with his Son on the cross. What Abel began, Christ completed. After his sacrifice there would be no more sacrificial system because “he came as High Priest of this better system which we now have.” (Heb. 9:11)

After Christ’s sacrifice there would be no more need to shed blood. He “once for all took blood into that inner room, the Holy of Holies, and sprinkled it on the mercy seat; but it was not the blood of goats and calves. No, he took his own blood, and with it he, by himself, made sure of our eternal salvation.” (Heb. 9:12) The Son of God became the Lamb of God; the cross became the altar; and we were “made holy through the sacrifice Christ made in his body once and for all time.” (Heb. 10:10)

What needed to be paid was paid. What had to be done was done. Innocent blood was required. Innocent blood was offered – once and for all time. Bury those five words deep in your heart. Once and for all time. And at the risk of sounding like an elementary school teacher, let me ask an elementary question: If the sacrifice was offered once and for all time, does it need to be offered again?

No, it doesn’t. You are positionally sanctified. Just as the achievements of my team were credited to me, so the achievement of Jesus’ blood is credited to us. And just as my skills improved through the influence of a teacher, your life can improve the longer and closer you walk with Jesus. The work for us is complete, but the progressive work in us is ongoing. So, if his work for us is seen in the blood that was shed, what might the water – that also flowed from his side – represent? (John 19:34) His work in us.

Remember the words of Jesus to the Samaritan woman? “The water I give will become a spring of water gushing up inside that person, giving eternal life.” (John 4:14) Jesus offers, not a singular drink of water, but a perpetual artesian well.

And the well isn’t a hole in your backyard, but the Holy Spirit of God in your heart. “If anyone believes in me, rivers of living water will flow out from that person’s heart, as the Scripture says.” Jesus was talking about the Holy Spirit. The Spirit had not yet been given, because Jesus had not yet been raised to glory. But later, those who believed in Jesus would receive the Spirit. (John 7:38–39)

Water, in this verse, is a picture of the Spirit of Jesus working within us. He’s not working to save us, mind you; that work’s already been done. He’s working to change us. Here’s how Paul described the process. “Do the good things that result from being saved, obeying God with deep reverence, shrinking back from all that might displease him. For God is at work within you, helping you want to obey him, and then helping you do what he wants.” (Phil. 2:12–13)

As a result of “being saved” (the work of the blood), what do we do? We obey God “with deep reverence,” and shrink back “from all that might displease him.” Practically put, we love our neighbor and refrain from gossip; we refuse to cheat on spouses and do our best to love people who’re tough to love. Do we do this in order to be saved? No. These are “the good things that result from being saved.”

A similar dynamic occurs in marriage. For instance, are a bride and groom ever more married than they are on that first day? The vows are made and the certificate is signed — could they be any more married than that? Perhaps. Because imagine them fifty years later. Six kids later. A bunch of jobs and a cluster of victories later. After half a century of marriage, they finish each other’s sentences and order each other’s food. Wouldn’t they have to be more married on their fiftieth anniversary than on their wedding day? Maybe.

But on the other hand, how could they be? The marriage certificate hasn’t matured like some kind of savings bond. But the relationship has. And that’s the difference. Technically, they’re no more united than they were when they left the altar. But relationally, they’re completely different. Marriage is both a done deal and a daily development; something you did and something you do.

The same is true of our walk with God. Can you be more saved than you were the first day of your salvation? No. But can a person grow in salvation? Absolutely. It, like marriage, is a done deal and a daily development.

The blood is God’s sacrifice for us. The water is God’s Spirit within us. And we need both. John is very concerned that we know that, too. Because it’s not enough to know what came forth; John wants us to know how they came forth: “At once blood and water came out.” (John 19:34) John doesn’t emphasize one over the other; it’s both. But we do sometimes, don’t we?

Some accept the blood but forget the water. We want to be saved, but don’t want to be changed. Others accept the water, but forget the blood. They’re busy for Christ, but they’re never at peace in Christ. What about you? Do you tend to lean one way or the other? Do you feel so saved that you never serve? Are you so happy with your team’s score that you don’t even bother to get out of the golf cart? If that’s you, then let me ask a question. Why does God have you on the course? Why didn’t he just beam you up the moment he saved you? The fact is, you and I are here for a reason, and that reason is to glorify God in our service.

Or, is your tendency the opposite? Perhaps you always serve for fear of not being saved. Perhaps you don’t trust your team. You’re worried that a secret card exists on which your score is actually being recorded – and it’s not very good. Is that you? If so, then know this: the blood of Jesus is enough to save you. Engrave in your heart the announcement of John the Baptist – Jesus is “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” (John 1:29). The blood of Christ does not cover your sins, conceal your sins, postpone your sins, or even diminish your sins. It takes away your sins, once and for all time.

Jesus allows your mistakes to be lost in his perfection. And as the four of us golfers stood in the clubhouse that day to receive some sort of recognition, the only ones who knew of the poverty of my game were my teammates, and they didn’t tell. And when you and I stand in heaven to receive our prize, only one could know all of our sins, but he won’t embarrass you — he’s already forgiven and forgotten them.

So enjoy the game; your prize is secure. But while you’re on the course, why don’t you ask the Teacher for some help with your swing – he can improve your game.

Grace,

Randy

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