What is “Justification”?

The following is my manuscript from the Dropping Keys dinner held at the Liberate Conference (last week). I’m posting “as is” because it will be insynch with the recording that Dropping Keys will post of the whole event. But here is my breif “teaching” about Justification.

What is “Justification”?

In talking about justification, there are two things I want to talk about.

The first is language.

How we actually speak of justification is very important because the event of justification occurs because something has been said, a word has been spoken, which has been heard by a hearer. So language, what we say, becomes crucial. Too often we speak of justification in shorthand: I’m justified. The problem there lies in that fact that “to be justified” isn’t a particularly Christian thing. You can be “justified” by works. Don’t panic, stay with me for a minute.  If you’ve ever been promoted at work, it’s probably been “justified”–you worked hard, you earned it. I work out 6 days a week, when I go to eat a cookie, it’s “justified.”  If I were to NEVER EVER do what was required of me at work or in school, I’d fail and that failure would be “justified”.

So what IS special about justification when Christians speak of it is not particularly the word “justified”, but the über important prepositional phrases that follow: “by faith” and “in Christ”.  Once you throw “faith” into the mix, justification is on a radically different ground than what we were just talking about. And then add: “in Christ” and now you’re square in the middle of Gospel territory. You aren’t just justified; you are justified by faith in Christ.

But what does that mean? It means that trying to achieve a right standing before God cannot be done through obedience to the law or good works because the means by which you stand right before God hinge on having “faith”—that’s all you need.

And don’t worry; faith itself is no work of your own, but a gift, from God himself that boomerangs back to its proper object, God himself. But it also means: that by the power of the Holy Spirit, who has opened your eyes to see and ears to hear the truth, have uttered an “amen” a “so be it” in agreement to this: that Jesus Christ–fully man and fully God– was born and lived the life you couldn’t and can’t, that he died the death that you deserved, that he was raised to give you life (in the fullest) that you don’t deserve, that he ascended into heaven to give you both assurance and hope that death and sin have neither power over you nor can they ever separate you from the love and favor of God, and that He is seated at the right hand of God, perpetually interceding for you and proclaiming your absolution.

That’s what we’re saying when we say: I’m justified by faith in Christ. It’s one of the smallest creedal statements I know of; when we say it we are, for all intents and purposes, rejecting any notion that there is another way to be justified, to be right before God. Those two small prepositional phrases make a huge difference, don’t they, like the difference between life and death.

How does “justification” impact me and my life?

But still, that’s kind of abstract, isn’t it? I mean, it’s up here, heady; how does this “being justified by faith in Christ” affect my daily existence? What happens to me or for me when I’m justified?

And this is my second point I want to make, this is what we refer to as the “event” of justification. It is an event, something actually happens in time and space for you, the hearer. Something is taken and something is given.  What’s taken from you when the gospel of the justification of the sinner by faith in Christ is proclaimed and heard? Your works. Being justified by faith necessitates that you cannot also be justified by works (what we just considered above). This is surely very good news. And worthy of full attention! But it’s only the tip of the iceberg; the event of justification is WAY bigger than we realize.

Too often our dialogue stops at what’s been taken from us. The cessation (the stopping) of works is important, but a vacuum is created if there is nothing there to take the place of the thing that was taken; and that vacuum will suck just about anything into it. Thus, we should incorporate in our dialogue about the event of justification what is given to us alongside what is taken. What’s given to you is Christ himself. But that’s too abstract. In that Christ has given himself to you you’ve been given the gift of the present.

We are hurled from the past to the future in the blink of an eye, over and over and over, through out all of life. When you think about time, there is no “present”; there’s a present era, an idea of the present, but no actual, concrete: this here and now is the present. Time doesn’t stop long enough to allow for a present.

Take a moment and think about it; there’s no present.

We run from the past and strive toward the future, exhausted, because there’s no possibility for rest. We run from mistakes made in the past eager to promise that we’ll never make them again in the future; even when we’ve had success in the past, we’re terrified of the future because the future demands we do it again…and again…and again. And so we are in this exhausting collision course between the past and the future.

But by being justified by faith in Christ apart from works, means that your past can no longer haunt you (you’ve been absolved by faith in Christ) and your future is silenced because it’s secured in Christ (because you will be absolved by faith in Christ and nothing can separate you from the Love of God, NOTHING).

The event of justification, that word of absolution heard (perpetually) by the hearer, parts space (like God did through Moses parting the sea) and stills time (like Jesus did the tumultuous stormy waves with one word) and the hearer is brought into the present (which was created out of nothing). And this gift of the present in Christ by faith in Christ is given to you everyday; this is what is actually given to you daily.

And it is here, in the event of justification, in the gift of the present where there is real rest, where there is peace; where you can locate a “here and now” existence, where access to knowing others and yourself materializes; where there is a place to pause, to breath, a place to live, a place where works are given back to you but now they are under your dominion rather than in domination over you; where condemnation is exterminated; a place where you can be utterly and truly free, free to laugh and mourn, free to confess and to be forgiven, free to be loved exactly as you are.

In the event of justification, you, the sinner–justified by faith in Christ–have been brought into the verdant and fertile garden of the present and you have been given life and freedom to its fullest.

εν τω Χριστω

Do you know how many times Paul uses the phrase “in Christ” in his letters? A lot.

He uses it so often that I’d say it’s one of his favorite prepositional phrases! One of my New Testament Exegesis professors, during a class on Ephesians, made special note to point out how many times Paul uses it in the first couple of chapters of the book. The phrase was used so frequently that it struck my professor strongly: Paul’s trying to make a point, the believer is in Christ, and Paul is taking every opportunity to not-so-subtly remind them of this fact.

You might not notice it in the English, but when you’re busy parsing out every word (case, number, person, tense, mood…etc), a repeated phrase starts to jump out at you. εν Χριστω…εν Τω Χριστω…εν Χριστω….in Christ…in Christ…in Christ. One of the things we had to do in that particular exegesis class was to discuss how phrases/nouns/verbs were functioning in the sentence. Was the verb past tense? present? future? pluperfect passive? What about the noun: nominative, dative, genitive, or accusative? Each aspect of each word adds a different layer of color to the word. It can be quite fascinating at times and at other times you’d sound your exhausted student yawp: IT’S JUST “THE”! “THE”! JUST “THE”!

Εν Χριστω while looking quite simple packs a little bit of a verbal punch. This particular prepositional phrase (remember, prepositions are anything you can do with a box; a prepositional phrase is when a preposition has a direct object) is in the Dative case–typically the case of the indirect object, that’s a rough and simplistic way to define it so don’t go tweeting that ;)–what’s important to know (and maybe even exhausting, ha!) is that datives themselves have functions; so there are different types of datives that, when that function is sussed out, add dimension to the otherwise bland, saltine-y prepositional phrase. In our case, εν Χριστω is a “dative of sphere/location”. The believer, by faith, is _in_ Christ. It’s your location, your address, your 411.

That’s pretty cool, isn’t it?

I’ve always read that particular dative of location as being shielded by Christ’s robes, hidden in him, cloaked (etc). I’ve always seen it as my imputation of righteousness, that I, by faith in Him, am _in_ Him (by the power of the Holy Spirit) and thus the Father sees me by seeing His son, thus he sees a Lauren who is spotless, her scarlet robes now bleached white by blood of the Lamb, his beloved, purified daughter (all of it His doing and none of it mine).

But is that all?

I don’t mean to imply that that isn’t enough, because, gosh, it certainly is, isn’t it? But that’s not how my brain works–the faulty brain He gave me to keep pushing traditional ways of understanding things; sometimes, I just think, think, and think some more about one little thing and then something happens and that airy upstairs (my head) fills with light: AH HA! What if…

Recently a dear friend wrote to me that she was tired and finding it hard to feel “full” (within herself) to turn around and pour herself out for others–a common parental feeling, perpetual emptiness in the midst of an unceasing demand to pour one’s self out for your children and spouse. Yet, she added, the Lord was continually bringing one scripture to mind, which was “This is the day the Lord has made, rejoice and be glad in it” (Ps 118:24), whereupon she confessed, “The truth of Jesus doesn’t make my heart rejoice in that area” (area being: pouring one’s self out for others while running on empty). Then I started writing back.  I wrote, “Maybe it shouldn’t. Maybe you have the space to just be in that area.” And then one of those light filling moments occurred as I was walking away from the computer to do something; I stopped and darted back and wrote (almost frantically): “wait.” (punctuation aside…i was pretty amped up at this point.) What had caught my attention was “rejoicing in”…rejoicing in the day that the Lord had made, essentially, is rejoicing _in_ the Lord, in Jesus…in Christ. Sometimes it’s rejoicing because of what Christ has done; but what I heard that moment was rejoicing because of where she is, which is in Christ and that means she was free to be, to _just_ be as she was. She was free to be exhausted and spent and grumpy about it because of her location, in Christ.

In Christ there is no need for fake smiles, no need for grinning and bearing it, no demand for some saccharine sweet joy cloaked in some cheap wrapper of happiness. In Christ, you can just BE, as is. In Christ you can confess your bitter feelings, your anger, your hurt, your exhaustion, your just plain grumpiness for no other reason than just because, because it’s a real place located in time and space that is–in the truest sense of the word–safe that has been created for you to just be. And it’s always confession, the freedom to confess (to say it like it is), rather than trying to grab bulls by horns or pretending like things are different that weakens cement strongholds on our hearts. And therein, therein that tired, angry, grumpy heart, therein the freedom for that heart to be just that in Christ, comes the first fruits of real rejoicing…rejoicing εν τω Χριστω.

Who is Woman?

Below is an entry I wrote for the Mockingbird Devotional (buy it here) on Gen 2:

Genesis 2:23                                                                                                                                        Lauren R. E. Larkin

This one at last is bone of my bones And flesh of my flesh…You surpass them all.

Who is woman? A question asked by men and women alike and that is applicable to all generations. A question I ask myself, as a woman. A question all too often defined by her form and function. But we cannot isolate her from man to answer the question, because the answer to who she is lies in her relation to him. And often the answer seems to be not really an answer at all. She is completely similar to him, yet utterly different; she is equal yet not interchangeable; she is of the same flesh and bone yet a different person completely; she is comfort and challenge.

There is no substitute suitable for woman to man.  Being “bone of [his] bones, flesh of [his] flesh” she is his perfect helper; and she is God’s first act of intervention on the behalf of man. The best answer I can give to “Who is Woman?” is: she is the first gift of Grace. She would not only alleviate man’s loneliness, drawing him up and out of himself toward another, but would also be the means by which God would consummate His relationship with him—with them as one. Without her, there is no relationship between God and man; without her, loneliness prevails and the Bridegroom is left standing at the altar.  Through her creation, God demonstrates to the whole of creation His love for this curved-in man who cannot help himself, who is stuck in his loneliness and isolation by bestowing to him this wonderful gift of Grace.

The word used in Gen 2:18, “Helper”, is the same word often used of God throughout the Old Testament. In her creation, in her name (“helper”), the themes of protecting, supporting, shielding, sustaining, delivering, comforting, giving hope, and blessing are ever present. As God gently nudges Adam awake, and brings her to the man, Adam is delivered out of loneliness into communion; he is given hope, comfort, and is blessed by her. She imputes to him that which is intrinsically hers and that which he lacks: glory; she is his glory (cf. 1 Cor. 11:2-16). Apart from her, the story ends too early.

Paul says in Ephesians 5:32 about the union of man and woman, “This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church.”  The very characteristic demonstrated here in the creation of woman as man’s helper, will reverberate through the books of the Old Testament and into the ears, hearts, and minds of the New Testament audience as well as into our’s. We were, like Adam, isolated, lonely, hopeless, and helpless. “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved” (Eph. 2:4-5).   In Jesus, through His life, death, resurrection, and ascension, God demonstrates Himself to be our true helper.  What is intrinsically His (righteousness), he imputes to us; we were estranged, yet He entered into the midst of it and called us and brought us into communion with Him at His expense.  We live because He, being merciful and taking pity on our estate, died.

As it was in the beginning, so it is now: like Adam, we’ve been saved by Grace