The Reformed Classicalist

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Q36. What are the benefits which in this life do accompany or flow from justification, adoption, and sanctification?

A. The benefits which in this life do accompany or flow from justification, adoption, and sanctification, are, assurance of God’s love, peace of conscience, joy in the Holy Ghost, increase of grace, and perseverance therein to the end.

The Benefit of Assurance of God’s Love

Assurance of salvation is something God promises to his children. It is the sense in our hearts that we are children of God, and is produced by the Spirit inside of us (Rom. 8:15-16, Gal. 4:6). Having said that, not all Christians experience that to the same degree or at the same rates. And what gospel we listen to in our lives determines how much of it we will experience. Distinguishing between the reality of salvation and the assurance of salvation is important for more of that assurance. What question might naturally arise without the distinction? “If no assurance, then no salvation?” And the answer is no. The evidences of salvation are not what save us. They are signs of the thing, but they are not the thing itself. Paul says, “to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness” (Rom. 4:5). Our faith should not be in the signs of our faith, but in Christ alone.

That is why there are two basic things that the Bible points us to when we are struggling with assurance of salvation: (1) certain spiritual fruit that only real believers possess; (2) a deeper look at the gospel itself. One of the most helpful things to consider in this, about that fruit, including external works, is that (1) these are always imperfect in all believers; (2) these are not present at all in the unregenerate. There are a number of fruit that the Scriptures point to as signs of true conversion, but we need to start here with this insight, or we are liable to get caught in the paralysis of analysis.

Of that first category of fruit, we can further divide. In his book The Marks of God's Children, the Dutch Reformer Jean Taffin places the fruit under two headings: 

“There are two main ways by which he shows us who his children are. The one is external and consists of marks visible to men. The other is internal and consists of testimonies by which the believer feels within himself that he is a child of God.”1

You may say, “But I’m always doubting!” The concern for one's salvation is itself an evidence of grace. We already got a hint of this in that initial ministry of the Holy Spirit in adoption that cries out within us, “Abba! Father!” (Rom. 8:15, Gal. 4:6). In addition, since we are commanded to examine ourselves in that regard (2 Cor 13:5, Phi. 2:12-13, 2 Pet. 1:10), this is a keeping of those commandments, and of a kind that involves the heart. The unregenerate have no such concern: not in any sustained and God-fearing way. Taffin continues on this same point:

“Unbelieving, unfaithful people pay not attention at all to their salvation, or they look for it somewhere other than in Christ Jesus. Contrast that with the believer, who longs for salvation and knows that it is found nowhere except in Jesus Christ alone. He also seeks it in him in the hope that his assurance of salvation will increase.”2

It is true that the devil can counterfeit, and that mere nature has a counterpart to, many of the spiritual affections. However there are also distinguishing characteristics in the true. Some examples of surer signs of the genuine article are that 1. they endure, 2. that they grow, 3. that they are of the moral excellency of God himself (his holiness), 4. that they are not pit against other biblically defined graces and goods, 5. that they are loved in their own right above and beyond the benefit accruing to us, that 6. they feed all of the other spiritual graces belonging to Christians, and 7. they make a difference in the world. Such things can best be tested out in the church context, with other believers to help us in the assessment. For anyone wanting to study this at a deeper level, I would recommend Jonathan Edwards’ classic The Religious Affections. It is a bit rigorous, but well worth it. I would likewise recommend John Bunyan’s A Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ for those who are simply struggling. And then that work of the Dutch reformer, Taffin, for additional study. There he made a distinction that really stuck with the Reformed tradition: that is, between 1. the assurance of faith and 2. the assurance of sense. The former is based on divine promises. It never changes because God’s word never changes. The latter is our ability to sense that God is with us. It is experience, whether internal or external.3 In terms of the Westminster Confession, that former kind may be found in XIV, and the latter covered in XVIII. 

The Benefit of Peace of Conscience

Peace with God is all about knowing that we are reconciled. We are no longer enemies. The hostility has been ended. Both the sin and its guilt are dealt with—so definite atonement and justification by faith alone, together, equals peace. And nothing else does. So Paul says about Christ and His work: “he himself is our peace” (Eph. 2:14), “by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross” (Col. 2:14). More specifically this connection follows that legal work: “Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 5:1). 

Now this is specifically PEACE OF CONSCIENCE. Often that is about the particular matters of something being right or wrong, and our hearts being in the “right place,” so to speak. So in Romans 14 there are matters of conscience so that, “whatever does not proceed from faith is sin” (14:23). Doing a thing from faith is to do it, as if having God’s approval. 

Because of ongoing sin, there is often the disturbance of this peace. There is the nagging question: “Why don’t I feel forgiven?” We may even want extra tokens of his forgiveness. What are signs of it? We are still looking for those signs in ourselves. But remember: forgiveness from God is objective. That means that it rests in who God is and what he has done. Because of that, the “signs” of forgiveness should never be sought in ourselves–not even in the levels of our faith–but on the contrary, our faith is always to look outside of ourselves to Jesus obeying the law for us and taking the penalty for us.

“But surely peace should be immediate!” we might reason: “Doesn’t love cast out fear?” That “perfect love casts out fear” (1 Jn 4:18) is highlighting the power of love in general, and not at all some one-to-one correspondence between that love and its exact effects in each believer as to timing and amount of assurance. If the last enemy to be destroyed is death, and Christ is waiting until his return to cast death away, surely one can leave room for God’s timing in casting away every single one of our fears. 

The Benefit of Joy in the Holy Spirit

Paul tells us that, “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Rom. 14:17). What does this mean?

Martyn Lloyd-Jones spoke about the joy of the Christian in this way:

“The Christian is not superficial in any sense, but is fundamentally serious and fundamentally happy. You see, the joy of the Christian is a holy joy, the happiness of the Christian is a serious happiness. ... it is a solemn joy, it is a holy joy, it is a serious happiness; so that, though he is grave and sober-minded and serious, he is never cold and prohibitive.”4

He was anticipating one suspicion of joy in that sin and suffering mark our experience in this world, and so how can we be filled with joy? The words of Proverbs 4:18 help us [picture]: “But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day.”

Despair is normal. Trials assault us all. But an absolutely joy-less Christian is a contradiction in terms. Joy is given in the gospel—“Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory” (1 Pet. 1:8). This was God’s design even in the fall. As Paul says, “For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Rom. 8:20-21). The new creation, starting in Christ’s resurrection and ours in His, was submerged in the tomb of this world. What Peter called that JOY INEXPRESSIBLE AND FILLED WITH GLORY is the seed of the new world already widening its eyes toward the coming of our Lord; it’s already stretching its legs on heaven’s shores; it’s already grabbing hold of its first reunion with beloved saints who have gone before us. This is a much truer joy than a joy that depends on having never suffered. 

Now, having gotten a hint of the true versus the false, when we are introspective, we do the same thing with joy as we do with peace and love. “I do not love as I ought to, and I do not have joy as other Christians seem to.” Specifically, one might examine their own love by what are often referred to as the “tests” laid out in John’s First Letter. 

“Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness. Whoever loves his brother abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling. But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes” (1 Jn. 2:7-11).

That same Apostle in that same letter wrote: “for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything” (1 Jn. 3:20).

But here is what we need to get first about even those fruit of the Spirit which are dispositions and affections in our heart. Our feelings—treated in themselves—are notoriously untrustworthy. So even when the root of the problem is our observation of our feelings, the answer is never to climb our way out by feeling. Our focus needs to be that same objective gospel that gets us outside of ourselves. For the morbidly introspective, the self-interrogation persists: “But shouldn’t we be growing in love?” Yes, a true believer will grow in love for others as they mature. However, as something to balance out, a true believer will also grow in sensitivity to one’s own sin. This is part real conviction of the Holy Spirit, part real biblical informing of more of our conscience, but if we are not careful we can mistake the increased view of our sins (which one would expect, like Paul in Romans 7), for a devolving character (our sin is “getting worse”). That would be a kind of optical illusion from the devil.

Sproul gives a helpful diagnostic set of questions for us:

First I ask, “Do you love Jesus perfectly?” Every person to whom I have asked that question has responded candidly, “No, I don’t” …

Second, when a person acknowledges that he doesn’t love Jesus perfectly, I ask, “Do you love Him as much as you ought to?” The person usually gives me a strange look and says, “Well, no, of course, I don’t.” That’s right; if the answer to the first question is no, the answer to the second question has to be no, because we’re supposed to love Him perfectly, but we don’t. Therein lies the tension that we experience about our salvation.

Third, I ask, “Well, do you love Jesus at all?” Before the person answers, I usually add that I’m asking about his love for the biblical Christ, the Christ whom we encounter in the pages of Holy Scripture …

Now if someone can say “Yes” to that third question, that’s where theology comes in. Consider this question: “Is it possible for an unregenerate person to have any true affection for Christ?” My answer is no; affection for Christ is a result of the Spirit’s work … Before regeneration, we are cold, hostile, or indifferent (which is the worst kind of hostility) to the things of God, having no honest affection for Him, because we are in the flesh, and the flesh does not love the things of God.”5

Returning to that idea that genuine spiritual fruit is always imperfect, even in the best of saints, this is true of joy as well. One of the main lessons of the Parable of the Sower is that time is a greater indicator than great emotions: 

“these are the ones sown on rocky ground: the ones who, when they hear the word, immediately receive it with joy. And they have no root in themselves, but endure for a while; then, when tribulation or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately they fall away” (Mk. 4:16-17).

This is not to say that emotions or experiences are bad, but that they are no sure sign of a work of grace on the heart. 

The Benefit of Increasing Grace

Peter says, “But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Pet. 3:18). Grace grows subjectively speaking. There was no deficiency is grace, from the perspective of God. But as we are still sinners, grace is still needed. In what sense is this a “benefit”? Remember that grace is God’s unmerited favor—but that at least means that these are good things, things that belong to salvation. 

There are certain means of grace that God ordains for us in order to grow: prayer, reading, meditating upon, and hearing the word, participation in the sacraments, fellowship, confession, worship, of the church assembled. These are the means that the Holy Spirit always uses to transform us. And this basic way is the same for any soul on any part of the path. So for a Christian sensing no fruit, our answer as to what to do is the same as for the Christian who is not presently struggling with assurance. So also with the believer who sees themselves in an experience that we often call “backsliding.” The means of return and renewal would still be the same. Now about that idea of backsliding, or falling, or stumbling, that brings us to our final point in the answer. 

The Benefit of Perseverance

That those who possess true saving faith can never lose it is taught in the following passages: 

“All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out. For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me. And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day” (Jn. 6:37-40).

“I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me,1 is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of tthe Father’s hand” (Jn. 10:28-29); “everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die” (Jn. 11:26); and Paul says, “those whom he justified he also glorified … For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:30, 38-39).

Philippians 1:6 and Jude 24 are also often cited in that list.

To the objection that many do fall away, Matthew 7:23 and 1 John 2:19 explain what is happening when someone “falls away.” Note, for example, that Jesus says “I never knew you,” not that I once knew you but now I don’t—but never. So this passage teaches perseverance, not falling away. Such never were saved, and fell from (1) the visible church and (2) a merely professed faith. The same is occurring with those in the Parable of the Sower who fall away.

Now there are objections, and “problem passages” that are brought up. Most notoriosly, the two warning passages of Hebrews. Now Hebrews 6:4-6 is indeed a warning passage. It does indeed speak of a class of persons who can “fall away” and are hardened beyond hope of repentance. However, some context is in order. Like all New Testament letters, this one is written to a mixed multitude. In every church in this age, there are believers and unbelievers.

This “falling away” is speaking of the reprobate. They are not to be confused with true believers who may fall away for a season. Even the context of the end of the passage gives a strong clue in (1) the contrasting imagery of the two soils (vv. 7-8), and (2) the punchline, “Yet in your case beloved…” (v. 9). That they “tasted” of the powers of the age to come—much like those who experienced “knowledge” in 2 Peter 2:20—and then fell away, means only that knowledge or tasting belonging to the visible church member who has made a false profession, and is partaking of the means of grace without true faith.

Likewise with 10:26-30. We can move right to the heart of the text and ask: Who has been sanctified here? And what is the allusion to the Old Testament? 

(1) The first answer is that the individual who falls away has been sanctified, and that by “the blood of the covenant” no less! 

(2) The second answer is that blood of the covenant by which the people of old were sanctified in the ceremony of Exodus 24. 

You see the author of Hebrews is making a lesser to greater argument. If that blood that sanctified the Israelites carried such a severe penalty for those who fell away (which was only the shadow or typological blood), how much more here of the fulfillment or substantive blood of Christ. What’s the problem? It is simply that in the New Testament, the visible-invisible distinction remains the same as in the Old Testament, and thus there is a corporate sense in which God “sanctifies” or treats the church as a whole more specially than he does those in the world. 

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1. Jean Taffin, The Marks of God's Children (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004), 35-36.

2. Taffin, The Marks of God's Children, 50.

3. Taffin, The Marks of God's Children, 45.

4. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount,

5. Sproul, “Can I Be Sure I’m Saved?