Another consideration by which we may assure our hearts of the greatness of the love of Christ for us is this, that he has freely provided for us innumerable gospel blessings which are vast and rich beyond all measure. Even among men, we understand that love which is love indeed always seeks to give good and pleasing things to the beloved. If we say that we love our children, but when they need an egg or a piece of bread, we give them a scorpion instead, we have no true love for them at all (Luke 11:11-13). Love always seeks the good of the beloved, and the greater the proffered good, the greater the love must be which offers it. If this is the case, then how great beyond all understanding must the love of Christ be for us, for the riches he has given us in the gospel are immense, manifold, and precious beyond all understanding!

These accusations cannot be easily brushed aside, for they strike at the heart of our entire understanding of salvation. With an aim to analyze the merit of Wright’s claims and expose both the strengths and weaknesses of his approach, the editors of Tabletalk magazine have put together this collection of tools to help Christians discern the errors behind the approach of N.T. Wright. It is our hope that you will find these resources helpful in understanding the biblical doctrine of salvation and for making an informed assessment of the work of Wright and other New Perspective thinkers."

These resources are found here.

Two helpful quotes on this verse:

"Now Peter sees a comparison between the waters of the flood and the waters of baptism... Now there are some denominations that love this verse because it seems at first to support the view called "baptismal regeneration." That is, baptism does something to the candidate: it saves by bringing about new birth. So, for example, one of the baptismal liturgies for infants says, "Seeing now, dearly beloved brethren, that this child is regenerate, and grafted into the body of Christ's Church, let us give thanks."

Now the problem with this is that Peter seems very aware that his words are open to dangerous misuse. This is why, as soon as they are out of his mouth, as it were, he qualifies them lest we take them the wrong way. In verse 21 he does say, "Baptism now saves you" - that sounds like the water has a saving effect in and of itself apart from faith. He knows that is what it sounds like and so he adds immediately, "Not the removal of dirt from the flesh, but an appeal to God for a good conscience - through the resurrection of Jesus Christ." (Or your version might have: "the pledge of a good conscience toward God").

But the point seems to be this: When I speak of baptism saving, Peter says, I don't mean that the water, immersing the body and cleansing the flesh, is of any saving effect; what I mean is that, insofar as baptism is "an appeal to God for a good conscience," (or is "a pledge of a good conscience toward God"), it saves. Paul said in Romans 10:13, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord - everyone who appeals to the Lord - will be saved." Paul does not mean that faith alone fails to save. He means that faith calls on God. That's what faith does. Now Peter is saying, "Baptism is the God-ordained, symbolic expression of that call to God. It is an appeal to God - either in the form of repentance or in the form of commitment.

What is Baptism?

Now this is fundamentally important in our understanding of what baptism is in the New Testament. James Dunn is right I think when he says that "1 Peter 3:21 is the nearest approach to a definition of baptism that the New Testament affords" (Baptism in the Holy Spirit, p. 219). What is baptism? Baptism is a symbolic expression of the heart's "appeal to God." Baptism is a calling on God. It is a way of saying to God with our whole body, "I trust you to take me into Christ like Noah was taken into the ark, and to make Jesus the Substitute for my sins and to bring me through these waters of death and judgment into new and everlasting life through the resurrection of Jesus my Lord."

Charles Haddon Spurgeon, preaching on this passage (on 2/5/1882) said:

"The defection in this case was on account of doctrine... The truth was too hard for them, it was not to be borne with. “It is a hard saying. Who can hear it?” A true disciple sits at the feet of his Master, and believes what he is told even when he cannot quite comprehend the meaning, or see the reasons for what his Master utters; but these men had not the essential spirit of a disciple, and consequently when their Instructor began to unfold the innermost parts of the roll of truth, they would not listen to His reading of it. They would believe as far as they could understand, but when they could not comprehend they turned on their heel and left the school of the Great Teacher. Besides, the Lord Jesus Christ had taught the doctrine of the sovereignty of God, and of the need of the Spirit of God, that men should be led to Him, “for Jesus knew from the beginning who they were that believed not, and who should betray him. And he said, Therefore said I unto you, that no man can come unto me, except it were given unto him of my Father.” Here our Lord uttered a bit of old-fashioned free-grace doctrine, such as people nowadays do not like. They call it “Calvinism”, and put it aside among the old exploded tenets which this enlightened age knows nothing of. What right they have to ascribe to the Genevan reformer a doctrine as old as the hills I do not know. But our Lord Jesus never hesitated to fling that truth into the face of His enemies. He told them, “Ye believe not because ye are not of my sheep, as I said unto you.” “No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him.” Here he tells them plainly that they could not come unto Him unless the Father gave them the grace to come. This humbling doctrine they could not receive, and so they went aside." (Sermons, 28, 111-2)

When we consider the love of men, we immediately realize that one thing in which the greatness of their love may be seen is the extent to which they are willing to go, and the labors they are ready to undertake, in order to win for themselves their beloved. It was a great love of Jacob for Rachel that he labored for her seven years, and they seemed but a few days (Gen. 29:18-20); but how much greater must the love of our Savior be for us, who for thirty-three years set his hand to unspeakably great and difficult labors and never looked back, until he had finally made us his own! But no, it was far longer than thirty-three years, even, that he undertook his immense labors to redeem us – for from all eternity, before the worlds had been created, he solemnly undertook to make us his own, and for all of history he has been engaged in no other work but that.

Rome teaches that we cannot be just without grace, that we will never become just without faith, and that we will never become just without the assistance of Christ. We need faith, we need grace, and we need Jesus. We need the righteousness of Christ infused or poured into our soul, but you must cooperate with that grace to such a degree that we will in fact become righteous. If we die with any impurity in our soul, thereby lacking complete righteousness, we will not go to heaven. If no mortal sin is present in our life, we will go to purgatory, which is the place of purging. The point of the purging is to get rid of the dross so that we become completely pure. It may take three years or three million years, but the object of purgatory is to make us righteous so that we can be admitted into God's heaven.

Part of the reason for this belief, that justification is rooted in an inherent righteousness in the sinner, comes from something unfortunate in church history. In the early centuries, when the Greek language passed away from the central attention of the church fathers and Latin became the dominant language, many scholars read only the Latin Bible, not the Greek bible, and they borrowed the Roman or Latin word for justification, iustificare, from which we get the English work justification. The Latin verb ficare means "to make" or "to shape" or "to do." Isutus means "righteousness" or "justice," so iustificare literally means "to make righteous," which we believe is what happens in sanctification, not in justification.

The Greek word that we are dealing with here in the Romans text is the word dikaioo, dikaiosune, which does not mean "to make righteous" but rather "to declare righteous." In the Roman Catholic view, God will never pronounce a person just or righteous until, by the help of God's grace and Christ, that person actually becomes righteous. [But] If God were to judge us tonight, what would he find? Would he find sin in our lives? Could he possibly declare us just if he considers only the righteousness that he finds in us today? Remember what the Apostle Paul said: "By the deeds of the law no flesh will be justified in His sight" (3:20). That is precisely why the ground for our justification cannot be found in us or in any righteousness inherent in our souls. That is why we need so desperately what Luther called a iustia alienum, an alien righteousness, a righteousness that comes from outside ourselves. Luther called this righteousness extranos, outside or apart from us.

In simple terms, this means that the only righteousness sufficient for us to stand before the judgment of God is the righteousness of Christ.
Excerpt from Romans (St. Andrew's Expositional Commentary) by R.C. Sproul

One of the most central questions related to the daily, practical living out of the Christian life, in any age, is that of preservation and apostasy – May I be sure of final victory over sin, the flesh, and the devil? If so, for what reasons and upon what basis? What can I do today to increase my assurance of final salvation? And what if I apostasize? If I have come to Christ with genuine faith, can I fall away later and lose my salvation? These and similar other questions have plagued (and sometimes paralyzed!) believers in Christ throughout Church history. Beliefs about the security of salvation in Christ and the reasons for that security (or lack of it) have a greater impact upon the everyday experience of Christians all across the world than just about any other theological topic. Wrong beliefs may lead to a lifetime of fear and frantic, works-based endeavors, on the one hand, or a casual flippancy and carelessness, on the other – but right beliefs are certainly one great means of energizing humble, faithful, joyful perseverance in the truth of the gospel and the fruit of good works. Robert Peterson's biblical-theological treatment of the themes of preservation and apostasy, Our Secure Salvation, has found just the right balance: in this substantial and yet accessible volume, Peterson deals competently with the many strong preservation texts and the sobering apostasy texts alike, and brings them all together in a coherent and mutually-supportive whole.

Dealing with four basic blocks of text: the Old Testament, the Gospels and Acts, the Pauline Epistles, and the General Epistles and Revelation, Peterson first moves in clear, logical progression through the multitude of texts dealing with preservation; then, through the equally numerous texts dealing with apostasy and its certain end of eternal torment; and finally, he ties all the data together in a unified overview. The discussion and exegesis throughout is brief, to the point, and easy to follow, but it is also up to date, deals fairly and extensively with opposing viewpoints, and is not loath to quote from sources friendly to his thesis. The balance of academics and forthright, non-technical presentation is a perfect fit for any serious-minded Christian who struggles with assurance of salvation, regardless of his level of theological training.

The capstone of Peterson's book is his last chapter, entitled, “Connecting the Dots”. This chapter contains a summary of his findings, for one thing; but more than that, it also brings together all of the seemingly-contradictory bits of information in a way that they can be understood in their manifold and consistent inter-relationships, and then applies that full-orbed understanding to the Christian's psyche. Sin, Satan, fears, doubts, sorrow over failures, anxiety over future temptations – these all afflict the soul of Christians in many ways. How can such an afflicted believer gain hope and peace in the gospel? Well, Peterson's analysis seems directed specifically toward answering those questions. His conclusions are not just abstract, they are experimental (in the old, Puritan sense of the word).

Peterson gives four reasons to vindicate his attention to his themes: 1) the Bible often speaks of preservation and apostasy; 2) God uses preservation to assure his children; 3) God teaches his children the need to persevere to the end; 4) God warns his children of the danger of apostasy. These are the conclusions that he has spent the better part of his book laboring to establish. But at the end of his book, he takes another step, and traces out in brief the relationships between these themes – how does God use the doctrine of preservation to assure his children, for instance? By basing that doctrine, not on our lives of fruitfulness, but upon the roles of the Trinity in salvation, the attributes of the godhead, the saving acts of Christ, the faithfulness of God's promise. This foundation paves the way for understanding the nature of our need to persevere, and the complex relationship between perseverance as a fruit of divine preservation, on the one hand, and a necessary means of divine preservation, on the other. The apostasy warnings, given in the light of this basic paradigm, have several vital functions and purposes as well, which Peterson draws out – in sum, all the parts of a complex whole are given an appropriate place, and the result is a solid foundation for pursuing a godly life that is serious and sober, but also joyfully and assuredly rooted in the certain truths of the gospel.

Peterson ends with a reference to what was perhaps the most compelling chapter of the book – his treatment of the Hebrews warning passages, and in particular the warning found in 5:11 – 6:12. In this justly famous passage, Peterson finds not just one of the strongest warnings against apostasy, but also (although not quite so well known!) one of the strongest assurances of preservation. In fact, the four joint themes of perseverance, apostasy, assurance, and preservation are all found in full and harmonious expression in this one passage. Just this one chapter on the warnings in Hebrews would be well worth the reading.

The Church is full of Christians who are growing dull of hearing, and need to be woken up by the serious apostasy texts of scripture; it is also full of insecure, struggling, and doubting Christians who desperately need their faith in the immutable nature, promises, and saving acts of God to increase. Peterson's book deals fairly and in context with both of these widespread biblical themes; and therefore, it is a recommended book for believers whose personality, background, and theological underpinnings tend to cast them into either one of these dangerous and potentially deadly errors.

Available at Monergism Books.

1. What is Reformed theology? - "There is something healthy about returning to one’s roots. When it comes to evangelical Christianity, its roots are found in the soil of the sixteenth-century Protestant Reformation. Just as the Reformers protested the corrupt teaching of the Roman Catholic Church, so today evangelicalism itself is in need of a modern reformation. In "What Is Reformed Theology?", Dr. R.C. Sproul offers a comprehensive introduction to Reformed theology. Simply put, it is the theology of the Protestant Reformers and the heart of historical evangelicalism. As C.H. Spurgeon once said, "Reformed theology is nothing other than biblical Christianity.""

2. The Making of the Protestant Reformation - "The division of the church that occurred during the Protestant Reformation was not something that the Reformers originally intended to happen. However, when it became clear that the church authorities would be unwilling to submit themselves to the teaching of sacred Scripture, Martin Luther knew that it was necessary to stand against them for the sake of the Gospel.

In this series, Dr. R.C. Sproul explores the historical background of the Protestant Reformation. He looks at the life of Martin Luther and the teachings of the medieval church in order to remind us of the truth of the biblical Gospel and the reasons why we must tenaciously cling to it."

3. Chosen by God - "Many people reject Reformed theology or Calvinism because they believe it teaches that God drags people kicking and screaming into the kingdom of God against their will. This, however, is a gross distortion of the biblical doctrine of election, which is grounded in God’s love for His people. In this series, Dr. Sproul carefully explains the meaning of God’s sovereignty in the work of redemption and shows how it relates to the will of man."

I have either watched or heard these series a number of times over the years and recommend them very highly. You will find them online here. - JS

Throughout the first epistle of Peter, the apostle is addressing a group of believers who are manifestly different from the citizens of the lands in which they find themselves compelled to live, and who are therefore misunderstood, maligned, and persecuted. Although at one time these believers were at home in their places of earthly residence, they have now been vastly transformed by the great power of the gospel. They were formerly not a people of God, but have now become a people (2:10). They had been full of malice, deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander, but were now constrained as newborn infants to desire something altogether different, that is, the true milk of the Word of God (2:1). In times past they had carried out the will of the Gentiles, giving themselves over to debauchery, sensuality, drunkenness, idolatry, etc., but that time has all passed, and now their former compatriots consider them strange and alien, and mock and slander them, because they no longer do those wicked things (4:-3-4; 1:14). Because of this great change, they who had once been citizens of this world, and loved by their own, and partners with them in this world's lusts, are now exiles and sojourners, whether in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, or any other place they may live (1:1-3). Hence, Peter exhorts them to live in accordance with their new character as temporary pilgrims in this world, and not according to their former futile ways (1:17-18).

“If Sunday is the Sabbath then part of the Christian Church is living in wholesale disregard to the will of God and is under his condemnation,” begins the provocative back cover of Richard Gaffin's analysis and critique of Calvin's understanding of the fourth commandment; and then, to round out the sober contention, it continues, “If the Sabbath is no longer binding on the Christian then sections of the Church are guilty of Pharisaism and are adding extra rules to Christ's teaching”. It may not actually be the case that every dispute over the nature of the fourth commandment and its specific application to the Church today necessarily implies as serious an error as this blanket statement suggests – after all, Gaffin sees fit to disagree with Calvin on many pertinent points, but with a respect and demeanor that would be loathe to charge the Reformer with either “wholesale disregard to the will of God,” or “Pharisaism” – and yet in this assessment the importance of the discussion is at least underscored by drawing out the seriousness implicit in adhering too tenaciously to either extreme edge of what may be a wrong understanding of the Sabbath question. And furthermore, even in cases of rather more mild disagreements, the concrete effects on the actual practice of the Church may be very significant. It is indisputably the case, therefore, that this question is worth a great deal of sober reflection, especially at a time in which the visible Church is clearly fragmented over the issue.

A careful, full-orbed examination of what the great Genevan Reformer really had to say about the fourth commandment is a very valuable starting point in any discussion of the topic, for several reasons: first of all, the degree of respect accorded to Calvin in the Protestant, Reformed tradition needs no apology; simply by virtue of his towering intellect, exegetical acumen, and personal piety, he deserves a very careful hearing, and when his rank as one of the acknowledged pillars of the Protestant Reformation and his place among the greatest theologians of Church history is added to the mix, his opinion becomes very weighty indeed. But on this specific question, what he has to say becomes even more interesting to discover, simply because adherents to all angles of the Sabbath question have attempted to wrest his words in support of their own understandings. The most ardent Sabbatarians have sought succor from his exegetical writings, particularly his commentaries on Genesis; and those who have gone to the opposite extreme of denying that the fourth commandment applies to the Church today in any sense whatsoever have found much ammunition in the anti-Sabbatarian tenor of his theological and confessional writings, particularly his Institutes. Compounding the problem, certain respectable theologians have gone so far as to assert that on this point, Calvin is hopelessly self-contradictory, and that his commentaries flatly contradict his Institutes – a theoretically possible contingency, but given Calvin's usual consistency and intellect, quite unlikely.

Gaffin proceeds on the reasonable assumption that, unless utterly impossible, every effort ought to be made to understand all of Calvin's writings as consistent with each other on this point – after all, from the very earliest to the latest of his confessional writings, during which time he was writing his various commentaries, there seems to be no major change of opinion, just some minor development. In fact, Calvin appeared to have died with the same basic interpretation of the Sabbath that he first gave expression to in his (earliest) 1536 edition of the Institutes. That he would have contradicted himself at so many points along the way, without ever revising his opinion, seems incredible. And with that basic assumption in mind, along with the aid of an approach that seeks to understand the historical context of the Reformer, and refuses anachronistically to read into him the later Sabbatarian debates of the Puritans, et al, he does come to a convincingly consistent interpretation.

In Gaffin's opinion, Calvin's view follows a via media between the Roman sabbatarians and the Anabaptist antinomians. In his Institutes, “Twice Calvin departs from the narrow course of exposition to deal with views he deems false, the propositions first of the 'restless spirits' and then of the 'false prophets'. Each is the polar opposite of the other on the Sabbath question. The 'false prophets,' reflecting a Roman Catholic viewpoint, held that the Lord's Day is a strict continuation of the Jewish Sabbath. The 'restless spirits,' representing an Anabaptist outlook, opposed any distinction of days.”

So what did this via media look like in concrete terms? In Gaffin's analysis, Calvin's positive interpretation of the fourth commandment and its application to the Church today may be summed up in three points: “1. Christians must practice a perpetual Sabbath through the whole of life, resting from their sinful works, so that God, through his Spirit, may work in them. 2. Christians must observe the lawful order of the church, constituted for preaching, for administering the sacraments, and for public prayers. 3. Christians must not inhumanly oppress those subject to their authority”. After demonstrating this basic approach from Calvin's theological writings, Gaffin then attempts to show how, when read in their historical context, the exegetical writings are fully compatible with that general framework.

So then, Calvin adhered to a middle ground, of sorts, in which the most basic application of the fourth commandment pertained to the Christians' resting from sin every day of the week, and in which the applications related to specific days of rest had only to do with humane employer/employee relationships and order and consistency in the worship of the Church; but mattered nothing either with regard to a particular day of the week or even the ratio of one day in seven. But this begs the further questions, “How does this understanding fit in with the contemporary Reformed creeds and confessions?”; and in particular, “Is Calvin reconcilable with the development expressed in the later Westminster Confession?”. Although he points out along the way that the disparity between Calvin and the Westminster Confession of Faith is not so stark as has often been made out, it is to Gaffin's credit that he resists the urge to force a compatibility between them where a full reconciliation is not in fact possible. Recognizing the essential discrepancy, he spends the last portion of his book evaluating Calvin's thought in a way that respectfully disagrees with some of his foundational tenets. Whether the reader will finally side with Calvin or Gaffin on this particular point (I for one, tend to sympathize with the Reformer on the key points), at least the issues are made clear, and the arguments for either side are given without distortion – a huge boon in an often abrasive discussion.

Available at Monergism Books

It is no strange thing when someone loves the beautiful and intelligent, the admirable and worthy. In fact, a man of great wisdom, courage, and charisma may even inspire many followers to give up their lives for his sake. But Christ's love is much greater than this, for when we were yet sinners, he died for us (Rom. 5:7-8). But consider more fully just how unworthy we are to be loved by the almighty Son of God: first, as mere creatures, we are infinitely below him in dignity by our very nature. We would think it an amazing thing if a powerful king or emperor paid any attention to us, or called us out from the crowds to enter into his private suites; but kings are our own kind, and have only a prominence of rank and position, not of essential nature. But Christ by his very nature is infinitely above us, and hence his love for us is far more amazing than any mere love of human to human could be. But not only are we by nature inferior to the Son of God, we are also sinful and disgusting in his sight; and not only have we sinned, which to Christ in his holiness is utterly loathsome (Psalm 119:104), but we have directed our sin personally against him (Psalm 51:4): we have rejected his kingly authority by violating his sovereign commands (1 Samuel 8:7); we have despised his infinite worth by forsaking the Fountain of living waters and hewing for ourselves broken cisterns (Jer. 2:12-13); we have perverted his glory and fashioned him into our own corrupt image (Rom. 1:21-23); and then, after flinging such great opprobrium at the most glorious Holy One, we have added insult to injury, by neither wanting nor seeking to be reconciled and forgiven (Rom. 3:11), and positively resisting the free advances of the Spirit, and the gracious and heartfelt cries of the Savior for our salvation (Mat. 23:37-39; Eph. 2:1-3). How great the love of the Savior must be, that he still loved us when we were so unworthy to be loved, and when we hated and despised him who alone deserves to be loved and worshiped!