Something Greater than Justification Is Here
or: the purpose of justification
I am fond of referring to a line that (I believe) Calvin once uttered: namely, that Christians often fail to lay full hold of all the benefits that are theirs in Christ. I think that is a true assessment, though of course, one must qualify what they mean by “all the benefits.”
At any rate, such failure to lay hold of all Christ’s benefits is not just because we are ignorant of all the riches in glory that are in Christ; it is also because we easily become fixated on, say, just one benefit to the exclusion of others.
I would contend that one of those benefits which we become fixated on is justification.
Now before I am accused of heresy or of attempting to overthrow the material principle of the Reformation, let me say that I believe the doctrine of justification by faith to be a glorious doctrine. It should make the heart leap in Irish jigs, it should inspire angelic hymns to pour forth from our lips; we’ve been declared not guilty, after all, in the courtroom of heaven. We have been pardoned for our crimes against God and, to beat all, given the very righteousness of none other than the Son of God himself. This is, to understate the matter, glorious news.
But it is a bit sad and, quite frankly, a bit puzzling, that many Protestant Christians (at least in my experience) camp out on this particular doctrine as if it is the only real benefit of trusting in Christ. Imagine, if you will, a scurrilous felon who has been justly pardoned by a just judge, who (rightly) leaps for joy and weeps for ecstasy at his newfound freedom -- but then never actually leaves the courtroom. That would beggar belief; yet it is the state of most Christians when it comes to laying hold of God’s benefits.
If we stick with justification for a moment, we might go on to ask: what exactly is the end, or reason, or purpose of justification? Why did God do it, in other words? Why does he justify his people through faith in his Son? There are a number of good and biblical answers to this, of course: he did it so that the glory of his name might be more clearly seen; he did it so that he might be just and the justifier of all who come to him through Christ; but there is one reason that, again, in my experience, is frequently and tragically overlooked.
God justified us in order to adopt us.
That, on our side of things, is the end to which our justification was freely given: that we might become sons of God. And lest anyone think I am taking biblical or theological liberties, let me take you briefly to a wonderful passage that spells this out in gloriously trinitarian and familial terms.
That We Might Receive Adoption
In Galatians 4:4-7, Paul writes, “when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’ So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God” (emphasis mine).
I am sure you noticed the pattern there. Redemption is a means to an end: that we might receive adoption as sons. God bought us out of slavery to sin and death not so that we could be left alone to figure things out for ourselves our own masters; he bought us at such a precious price so that he could be our Father and we could be his sons.
And now, a brief word on why the word “sons” is used instead of the more generic “children.”
Not Just “Children” but “Sons”
Paul could have used the neuter word teknon (τεκνον) in this passage, which refers to children in the main; but he didn’t. He instead used the decidedly masculine term huios (υἱος), which refers to the male descendant in a family. I read someone once who claimed that Paul did this because he was a chauvinist, and that the translators down the ages followed suit because they too were chauvinists. If we take but half a moment, however, to consider the astounding possibility that Paul did, perhaps, know what he was doing and was not a misogynist pig, we might discover something worth knowing.
The son, in the Mosaic economy, was the one who received the family inheritance; indeed, the firstborn son received a double portion (Deut 21:17). In this way, then, Paul is not obliterating true gender differences between men and women, nor is he speaking misogynistically to the neglect of women; rather, he is saying that all those who are united to Christ, including women, are afforded all the covenant benefits of being God’s beloved sons. To say it another way: those in Christ, without distinction, are sons of God, and thus are all heirs. Therefore, Paul’s insistence on applying the term “sons” to all believers is an ironically more “egalitarian” view of adoption than the one that might be argued for by translating huios as “children.”
So with that said: what does it mean for you and I to be sons? Allow me, if you will, to expound on just a few of the unfathomable privileges that come with such an adoption.
Another way of asking this is: what privileges does Jesus Christ have? Well, his privileges are now our privileges, too. Three of which are:
1.) The promises of God
2.) The divine accolade
3.) The inheritance of the universe
The Promises
First, regarding the promises of God: Paul tells us in 2 Corinthians 1:20 that all the promises of God find their yes in Christ; Peter tells us in 2 Peter 1:3-5 that we are made partakers of the divine nature through the promises of God.
So then, when we are told in Philippians 4 that God will meet all of our needs through his riches in glory in his Son, we can absolutely count on that promise because we are God’s sons. When God tells us he works all things for our good and his glory, we can take that promise to the bank because we are God’s sons. When God says he has truly forgiven our sins and hurled them into the sea, we can really believe him because we are his sons; we need think of such things no more; our Father will not always be scolding.
So as a son of God, you can ransack the Bible for all the promises of God. They’re all yours. You must, of course, read and properly understand the promises; just because we’re sons doesn’t mean we get to use them however we want. See James 4:1-3, for example. But they really are ours; we need not blush to believe them and act on them. Au contraire, we should blush if we don’t believe them and act on them.
The Divine Accolade
Next, regarding the divine accolade. We were all, to use C.S. Lewis’s words, born with a secret ache: a longing to hear the divine accolade, “Well done, good and faithful one.” In Christ, the humble and suffering servant, we shall indeed receive that accolade. Indeed, we’ll receive more; for even now, clothed in the garments of our Elder Brother, we can hear the words of the Father’s blessing as our own: “This is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.” As a good friend of mine is fond of saying, you have nothing to protect and nothing to prove when it comes to that matter in particular: the Father sent his Son because he loves you, and the Son of God came and gave up his life because he loves you, and the Spirit has taken up residence in your heart because he loves you.
The Universe
Third, regarding the inheritance of the universe. Someone might dock me because this could technically be filed under the heading of promises, but I think it is worth expounding on its own. The poorest beggar on the street, if he trusts in Christ, is actually richer than Elon Musk (barring his repentance) -- because Musk’s treasures will fade away, his wealth will rust and rot, but the poor Christian beggar is an heir to the universe. Really. The whole show. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 3:21-23: “So let no one boast in men. For all things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future—all are yours, and you are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.”
It is an old jab to call such talk “pie in the sky.” But it is the Bible’s way of talking about things. If we look at Hebrews 11, we see that some in this life conquered, enforced justice, stopped the mouths of lions, while others suffered sword, famine, and persecution; but whatever our lot, the universe is ours one day: and for those whose sufferings are great, this light and momentary affliction is preparing for them an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.
That is what we are heirs to; we will always and forever be going further up and further in, always discovering new highlands in the far country of God. To paraphrase John Newton, if your car broke down one mile from the place where you were going to inherit one trillion dollars, you would have no cause for complaint; the car problems should not even register on the “mild inconvenience” scale.
Yet something even greater than that is the reality for we who belong to the Lord. We are sons who are destined to inherit the whole estate, and our Father would have us ride with him as he surveys it.
George MacDonald said it well: we are the sons of God, so let us become the sons of God. Let us live into our sonship; we need not cower or speak like Carlormene slaves, shackled to the cringing elemental principles of this world. We are free Narnians; we can cry out to God from a full heart, “Abba! Father!” The blessing is upon us; we need not steal or scheme for it. It is ours because our Father loves us.
