Post by makesends on Sept 13, 2022 20:29:51 GMT -8
For years, as a semi-Arminian, I wondered how some people could say that Salvation was all of the following: "By grace alone", "through faith alone", "in Christ alone", "a gift of God alone", "through the Spirit of God", "through the work of the Spirit of God", and several other phrases. The mechanics of it escaped me. I knew God saved me, Christ died for me, I was born-again, and was no longer a slave to my sin nature. But in my understanding, there was one more item that didn't fit in the same category as the rest of them, foggy, even ethereal and at best theoretical and apparently esoteric, that they were to my mind. That one item was the adamantly declared 'fact' added to everything else that had been shown me in Scripture, (and yes, it was shown in Scripture too, or so I thought), that it was THE KEY to the beginning of all the rest of the things related to salvation —that one must "accept Christ", in order to be saved. But it was both practical, and unprovable.
This "accepting Christ" was expressed or explained several different ways, to include the choice to believe in the Gospel, to which was endemic: submission and repentance, and somewhat more loosely, obedience and consistency, spiritual growth, love for Christ, etc, all to be obtained or achieved in good time; "be patient with yourself", I was told sometimes —it was very comforting to hear that mature, Christlike, believers (unlike my apparently "carnal" self) recommended this, but it was not very reassuring. (There were, of course, many more things I was told and was taught, and that I read for myself from scripture as to the believer's walk. There was always one more "how to" become this victorious Christian I heard so much about.)
From early on, I realized that I could be fooling myself that I had actually trusted Christ for MY salvation. I never doubted he could do so, nor that his death was ineffectual, but did he save me? Was his death effectual concerning me? The question was, with the evidence lacking that I loved Christ —i.e. my obedience— how real was my repentance? How real was my love? How committed was I really? How strong was my desire? How could I say I truly hated sin in my love/hate struggle with it? For a few years as a teen I irrationally feared midnight, and couldn't sleep until after the clock finished striking 12, in case Christ came that day and I got left behind.
There isn't room here to describe the agony of soul and the tears with which I begged God for relief in the following years —the long hours searching Scripture, the prayers for understanding, and the hardships God took me through, both self-made and otherwise-made, and the many, many times that there was no 'right way' to endure but to muddle through the best I could and hang onto God for dear life. But I would not trade those years for anything. I needed them to learn one thing: the absolute GRACE of God (which I am still learning, and concerning which I hope to never reach an end of learning).
There is so much more to say, about the beauty and wisdom of God, about God's glory and purity, and about his love and mercy. Suffice here for now, to say, there is at least one thing I think I will always find worth debating: The absolute, comprehensive, Grace of God.
This "accepting Christ" was expressed or explained several different ways, to include the choice to believe in the Gospel, to which was endemic: submission and repentance, and somewhat more loosely, obedience and consistency, spiritual growth, love for Christ, etc, all to be obtained or achieved in good time; "be patient with yourself", I was told sometimes —it was very comforting to hear that mature, Christlike, believers (unlike my apparently "carnal" self) recommended this, but it was not very reassuring. (There were, of course, many more things I was told and was taught, and that I read for myself from scripture as to the believer's walk. There was always one more "how to" become this victorious Christian I heard so much about.)
From early on, I realized that I could be fooling myself that I had actually trusted Christ for MY salvation. I never doubted he could do so, nor that his death was ineffectual, but did he save me? Was his death effectual concerning me? The question was, with the evidence lacking that I loved Christ —i.e. my obedience— how real was my repentance? How real was my love? How committed was I really? How strong was my desire? How could I say I truly hated sin in my love/hate struggle with it? For a few years as a teen I irrationally feared midnight, and couldn't sleep until after the clock finished striking 12, in case Christ came that day and I got left behind.
There isn't room here to describe the agony of soul and the tears with which I begged God for relief in the following years —the long hours searching Scripture, the prayers for understanding, and the hardships God took me through, both self-made and otherwise-made, and the many, many times that there was no 'right way' to endure but to muddle through the best I could and hang onto God for dear life. But I would not trade those years for anything. I needed them to learn one thing: the absolute GRACE of God (which I am still learning, and concerning which I hope to never reach an end of learning).
There is so much more to say, about the beauty and wisdom of God, about God's glory and purity, and about his love and mercy. Suffice here for now, to say, there is at least one thing I think I will always find worth debating: The absolute, comprehensive, Grace of God.
