Faith vs. Good Works
Sermon
Sermons on the Second Readings
Series III, Cycle B
Object:
"All things are lawful for me," but not all things are beneficial. "All things are lawful for me," but I will not be dominated by anything.
-- 1 Corinthians 6:12
In 1 Corinthians 6, Paul touches on a topic that has captivated Christians and fragmented churches for centuries. What is the relationship between our faith and good works? If I am saved by faith alone, then what are my limits?
There is a certain order, a certain logic, a certain progression to life that just makes sense. If I work hard, then I will get a raise. If I study hard, then I will get a good grade. If I eat my vegetables, then I get my dessert. There is no free lunch. Right? There is this ladder mentality we all have, a progression that makes sense. Step by step, we must work our way to the top of the ladder.
When the early church fathers were trying to figure out how a person gets to heaven, they turned to this ladder theology. Pelagius taught that if you want to get to heaven, you had better start climbing. No one will do it for you. It all depends on your choice and free will to start climbing. Go to church. Say your prayers. Feed the hungry. Contribute money. Step by step you will eventually earn your place in heaven.
It made sense. The world works this way. Total free will. If it's going to be, it's up to me. Problem was, it wasn't scriptural and so Pelagius and his teachings were deemed heresy by the early church as works righteousness.
The next theologian, Augustine, taught against Pelagius and said that we are fallen creatures who are unable to make that step. We need help. We need God's grace in order to respond by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, giving offerings, and praying to God. Augustine seemed to correct the ladder theology of Pelagius by understanding human nature, the bound will and original sin.
Then people began asking the question, "Just how do you get the grace to climb the ladder?" Over time, the church taught that grace was dispensed by the church. The church had the power to grant or withhold that grace. If you paid your money, the church dispensed grace. If you said your prayers and attended worship, the church dispensed grace. If you made a pilgrimage, did a good work, or went to confession, the church dispensed you grace. You can't climb on your own. But grace, doled out by the church, gave you the ability to climb. The more good works, the more you were rewarded with grace. Now it was you, God, and the church climbing up that ladder toward heaven. But it was still a ladder.
Martin Luther grew up with this ladder theology. The picture Luther had of Jesus was a well-known wood carving of his day depicting Jesus holding a lily in one hand and a sword in the other. Heaven and hell. It's your choice. Better start climbing. So Luther spent his days in confession, prayer, worship, and good works because it just made sense that there was no other way to the top but by earning your way step by step.
It makes sense, logically. It should work, theoretically. But what happens when it doesn't work, when I don't feel forgiven, when I'm still racked with guilt, or when I'm not making any progress? What happens when I still sin the same sin, when I feel distant from God despite my most ardent prayers, persistent good works, and generous alms? What happens when it doesn't work?
You either try to climb harder, as Luther did, or blame yourself and end up hating the God you are trying to please. Or you come to the awful conclusion that if it is not my fault, I'm not going up that ladder, then it must be God's fault. Maybe God has said no to me and has rejected me for all of eternity.
It was at the quandary that Luther dove into the teachings of scripture. In Romans 1 he read, "The just shall live by faith." In Romans 5, "Christ died for our sins while we were still sinners." In John 15, "You did not choose me but I chose you." In our text for today, "All things are lawful for me, but not all things are beneficial." And Luther realized that there was indeed a ladder. But it wasn't one meant for us to climb to heaven. We can't do that. Our rebellious, sinful nature does not seek out a righteous God. Our free will is bound in rebellion against God. It despises God, flees from God, even hates God. So instead of coaxing us up an impossible ladder, God turned the ladder upside down and climbed down to us. We are saved by faith alone in this God who comes to us.
Luther's foes were not so easily persuaded. One Catholic theologian named Erasmus took Luther on head to head precisely over this issue of faith and good works. You may think it strange but Luther actually welcomed this debate against this well-known and intelligent theologian. He actually thanked Erasmus because he alone understood the heart of the issue. This whole Reformation was not about indulgences, not about priests marrying, not about the authority of the pope, not about transubstantiation. The Reformation was a fundamental doctrinal issue about how we get from point A to point B. How do we, fallen, sinful creatures, ever attain to the pinnacle of that ladder? Erasmus said, "Try a little harder, jump a little higher, give a little more, pray more often because your good works will merits God's grace so that together you can climb to the top."
Luther turned the ladder upside down. That's not what the Bible says. "For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works of law" (Romans 3:28). And then he drew a line in the sand and said, "Justification by faith through grace is the doctrine upon which the church stands or falls." Erode this and reduce Christianity to a set of morals and the whole thing begins to crumble.
Christianity is not about morality. It's not about climbing a ladder. It's not a partnership between you and God to enable you to get from point A to point B. Do you believe that? Most don't. Most church-going active Christians still believe that to get to heaven, you have to be a good person who climbs ladders. Luther's teachings were not about becoming moral people. Indeed, Luther's warts were uglier, bigger, and more visible than most of ours. His legacy is confessing that he could not climb that ladder. He admitted freely, "I am in bondage to sin and cannot free myself." The gospel doesn't make you a sinless person. The gospel means that those sins are no longer held against you. The sin remains. We are still sinners. Romans 3 says that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. And, at the same time, we are saints who are forgiven for Jesus' sake.
We love ladders. We trust ladders. When we are faced with this grace-filled message of an upside down ladder, we step back, rub our chins and think, "But I have to do something, don't I? I have to participate in this climb, don't I? I at least have to show up, accept, believe, and decide, don't I?" We can either back off and water down the Reformation or we can stand firm with Paul when we writes about the freedom of the Christian in Romans, Galatians, Ephesians, and here again in 1 Corinthians.
But I have to do something, don't I? No, because you can't. There is a rebel living in your heart. This is a one-sided, unilateral act of God's grace, turning the ladder upside down and choosing you, accepting you, believing in you.
"But I have to do something, don't I?" The rebel inside who loves the ladder wants to know. But Paul says here and elsewhere that the answer is, "No. For freedom Christ has set you free. Do not submit again to the yoke of slavery" (Galatians 5:1). We hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works.
Now there is an even better question to ask: "Now that I don't have to do anything, how then shall I live?" Paul says that we are free but then warns, "Do not let your freedom be an opportunity for the flesh." You are free. The ladder is not for you to climb to God but for God in Christ to climb down to you. How then shall you live? Will it be for yourself or will it be a life that is pleasing to God?
Whenever I speak to the middle school youth at church, they want to climb a ladder. They say, "Do I have to go to church? Do I have to go to Sunday school? Do I have to help my neighbor? Do I have to share what's mine? Do I have to pray?"
Do you hear the ladder theology? It is in each one of us.
To answer their questions, I say, "No. You are a Christian. You don't have to, you get to. You get to go to worship to hear that your sins are forgiven. You get to help your neighbor by being the hands of Christ. You get to pray to a God who longs to listen. You don't have to, you get to. That is the freedom you have in Jesus who climbed a ladder down to you."
All things are lawful, but not all things are beneficial. The question is not what you have to do. The question now is what do you get to do for the sake of the kingdom.
Choose wisely! Amen.
-- 1 Corinthians 6:12
In 1 Corinthians 6, Paul touches on a topic that has captivated Christians and fragmented churches for centuries. What is the relationship between our faith and good works? If I am saved by faith alone, then what are my limits?
There is a certain order, a certain logic, a certain progression to life that just makes sense. If I work hard, then I will get a raise. If I study hard, then I will get a good grade. If I eat my vegetables, then I get my dessert. There is no free lunch. Right? There is this ladder mentality we all have, a progression that makes sense. Step by step, we must work our way to the top of the ladder.
When the early church fathers were trying to figure out how a person gets to heaven, they turned to this ladder theology. Pelagius taught that if you want to get to heaven, you had better start climbing. No one will do it for you. It all depends on your choice and free will to start climbing. Go to church. Say your prayers. Feed the hungry. Contribute money. Step by step you will eventually earn your place in heaven.
It made sense. The world works this way. Total free will. If it's going to be, it's up to me. Problem was, it wasn't scriptural and so Pelagius and his teachings were deemed heresy by the early church as works righteousness.
The next theologian, Augustine, taught against Pelagius and said that we are fallen creatures who are unable to make that step. We need help. We need God's grace in order to respond by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, giving offerings, and praying to God. Augustine seemed to correct the ladder theology of Pelagius by understanding human nature, the bound will and original sin.
Then people began asking the question, "Just how do you get the grace to climb the ladder?" Over time, the church taught that grace was dispensed by the church. The church had the power to grant or withhold that grace. If you paid your money, the church dispensed grace. If you said your prayers and attended worship, the church dispensed grace. If you made a pilgrimage, did a good work, or went to confession, the church dispensed you grace. You can't climb on your own. But grace, doled out by the church, gave you the ability to climb. The more good works, the more you were rewarded with grace. Now it was you, God, and the church climbing up that ladder toward heaven. But it was still a ladder.
Martin Luther grew up with this ladder theology. The picture Luther had of Jesus was a well-known wood carving of his day depicting Jesus holding a lily in one hand and a sword in the other. Heaven and hell. It's your choice. Better start climbing. So Luther spent his days in confession, prayer, worship, and good works because it just made sense that there was no other way to the top but by earning your way step by step.
It makes sense, logically. It should work, theoretically. But what happens when it doesn't work, when I don't feel forgiven, when I'm still racked with guilt, or when I'm not making any progress? What happens when I still sin the same sin, when I feel distant from God despite my most ardent prayers, persistent good works, and generous alms? What happens when it doesn't work?
You either try to climb harder, as Luther did, or blame yourself and end up hating the God you are trying to please. Or you come to the awful conclusion that if it is not my fault, I'm not going up that ladder, then it must be God's fault. Maybe God has said no to me and has rejected me for all of eternity.
It was at the quandary that Luther dove into the teachings of scripture. In Romans 1 he read, "The just shall live by faith." In Romans 5, "Christ died for our sins while we were still sinners." In John 15, "You did not choose me but I chose you." In our text for today, "All things are lawful for me, but not all things are beneficial." And Luther realized that there was indeed a ladder. But it wasn't one meant for us to climb to heaven. We can't do that. Our rebellious, sinful nature does not seek out a righteous God. Our free will is bound in rebellion against God. It despises God, flees from God, even hates God. So instead of coaxing us up an impossible ladder, God turned the ladder upside down and climbed down to us. We are saved by faith alone in this God who comes to us.
Luther's foes were not so easily persuaded. One Catholic theologian named Erasmus took Luther on head to head precisely over this issue of faith and good works. You may think it strange but Luther actually welcomed this debate against this well-known and intelligent theologian. He actually thanked Erasmus because he alone understood the heart of the issue. This whole Reformation was not about indulgences, not about priests marrying, not about the authority of the pope, not about transubstantiation. The Reformation was a fundamental doctrinal issue about how we get from point A to point B. How do we, fallen, sinful creatures, ever attain to the pinnacle of that ladder? Erasmus said, "Try a little harder, jump a little higher, give a little more, pray more often because your good works will merits God's grace so that together you can climb to the top."
Luther turned the ladder upside down. That's not what the Bible says. "For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works of law" (Romans 3:28). And then he drew a line in the sand and said, "Justification by faith through grace is the doctrine upon which the church stands or falls." Erode this and reduce Christianity to a set of morals and the whole thing begins to crumble.
Christianity is not about morality. It's not about climbing a ladder. It's not a partnership between you and God to enable you to get from point A to point B. Do you believe that? Most don't. Most church-going active Christians still believe that to get to heaven, you have to be a good person who climbs ladders. Luther's teachings were not about becoming moral people. Indeed, Luther's warts were uglier, bigger, and more visible than most of ours. His legacy is confessing that he could not climb that ladder. He admitted freely, "I am in bondage to sin and cannot free myself." The gospel doesn't make you a sinless person. The gospel means that those sins are no longer held against you. The sin remains. We are still sinners. Romans 3 says that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. And, at the same time, we are saints who are forgiven for Jesus' sake.
We love ladders. We trust ladders. When we are faced with this grace-filled message of an upside down ladder, we step back, rub our chins and think, "But I have to do something, don't I? I have to participate in this climb, don't I? I at least have to show up, accept, believe, and decide, don't I?" We can either back off and water down the Reformation or we can stand firm with Paul when we writes about the freedom of the Christian in Romans, Galatians, Ephesians, and here again in 1 Corinthians.
But I have to do something, don't I? No, because you can't. There is a rebel living in your heart. This is a one-sided, unilateral act of God's grace, turning the ladder upside down and choosing you, accepting you, believing in you.
"But I have to do something, don't I?" The rebel inside who loves the ladder wants to know. But Paul says here and elsewhere that the answer is, "No. For freedom Christ has set you free. Do not submit again to the yoke of slavery" (Galatians 5:1). We hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works.
Now there is an even better question to ask: "Now that I don't have to do anything, how then shall I live?" Paul says that we are free but then warns, "Do not let your freedom be an opportunity for the flesh." You are free. The ladder is not for you to climb to God but for God in Christ to climb down to you. How then shall you live? Will it be for yourself or will it be a life that is pleasing to God?
Whenever I speak to the middle school youth at church, they want to climb a ladder. They say, "Do I have to go to church? Do I have to go to Sunday school? Do I have to help my neighbor? Do I have to share what's mine? Do I have to pray?"
Do you hear the ladder theology? It is in each one of us.
To answer their questions, I say, "No. You are a Christian. You don't have to, you get to. You get to go to worship to hear that your sins are forgiven. You get to help your neighbor by being the hands of Christ. You get to pray to a God who longs to listen. You don't have to, you get to. That is the freedom you have in Jesus who climbed a ladder down to you."
All things are lawful, but not all things are beneficial. The question is not what you have to do. The question now is what do you get to do for the sake of the kingdom.
Choose wisely! Amen.
