The Hawk and the Dove is a wonderful series of short stories set in a 14th century monastery in England. The stories revolve around Peregrine, the abbot, or leader, of the monastery, and his dealings with the monks under his care, as they seek to develop a life of prayer. One of the young monks, Brother Francis, is always cheerful and light-hearted, but Peregrine senses that he is hiding something, that he is not, in the depths of his heart, as cheerful as he appears. Father Peregrine thinks his perpetual cheerfulness is a front that he uses to protect himself, to keep anyone from getting close to him. After some discussion, Brother Francis confesses: “I have studied and practiced and done my utmost to please, but it is never enough. I am hemmed in by rebuke and censure until it seems there is nowhere left to stand. There is no place for me. I can never be good enough” (p. 250). Have you ever felt that way? I’ve been in jobs where it seemed impossible to please the boss. No matter what I did, it was never quite enough, and the boss didn’t hesitate to point out my shortcomings.
Many people feel that way about their relationship with God. They imagine Him hovering over them as a stern taskmaster, just waiting for them to take the wrong step. In one sense, they want to be closer to God, but in another sense, they avoid Him, because they’re afraid to get close to Him. They know that all is not well with them spiritually, so they rededicate their lives several times each year. But it never comes to anything. They repent and confess their shortcomings, then they go back to their lives as usual, until the next revival meeting. They develop a long-term pattern of rededication followed by stagnation, repeated for a lifetime.
We shouldn’t be surprised that many people get fed up with this pattern and finally turn away. We commonly refer to these people as backsliders, people who’ve started out and then turned back to their old way of life. Eugene Peterson tells about growing up in the church with an acute awareness of the danger of backsliding: “Backslider was a basic word in the religious vocabulary that I learned as I grew up. Exempla were on display throughout the town: people who had made a commitment of faith to our Lord, were active in our little church and who lost their footing on the ascent to Christ and backslid.... Backsliding was everywhere and always an ominous possibility. Warnings were frequent and the sad consequences on public display. The mood was anxious and worried. I was taught to take my spiritual temperature every day, or at least every week; if it was not exactly ‘normal,’ there was general panic. I got the feeling that backsliding was not something you did, it happened to you. It was an accident that intruded on the unwary or an attack that involved the undefended” (A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, pp. 79-80). That’s a pretty accurate description of the way I looked at backsliding in the first few years of my Christian life. I was constantly on my guard against the danger of falling off the path.
This is not the way Paul sees the Christian life. The outlook I’ve been describing suffers from a wrong view of God and an inadequate understanding of salvation in Jesus Christ. God is pictured as one who grudgingly offers salvation, as long as we straighten up. If we don’t, He’s there waiting to crush us. And salvation, from this perspective, consists of little more than forgiveness for the past. All our confessed sins are forgiven, but if we sin tomorrow and die before we have a chance to confess it, we’ll be lost eternally. I’ve heard teachers claim that a Christian who sins is in exactly the same position before God as an unbeliever. So the Christian life consists of moving back and forth, for a lifetime, over the line of salvation. One moment we’re saved, the next moment we’re lost. Hopefully we’ll die during one of the times when we’re on the right side of the line. But there’s no security, no assurance.
It’s difficult to see any relationship between this picture and the one Paul presents at the end of Romans 8. In the picture I’ve been presenting, all the emphasis is on us: whether we are measuring up, whether we’ve overlooked anything in seeking to confess all our sins, whether we are staying on the narrow path. In Romans 8, the emphasis is on God and what He has done for us. He doesn’t say much about us at all. He says we “are like sheep to be slaughtered.” He makes the point that we endure suffering in this life. But even when he goes on to say that we are “more than conquerors,” it’s not because of anything in ourselves but “through him who loved us.” The emphasis is on what God, in Christ, has done and is doing for us. Christian salvation begins and ends with God. I’ve noticed that people who spend their lives in the kind of spiritual atmosphere I’ve been describing usually don’t grow to know God very well. They are too much at the center of things. Their picture of God is too limited, and they’re too fearful to be able to relax in His presence. They say, like Brother Francis, “I am hemmed in by rebuke and censure until it seems there is nowhere left to stand.... I can never be good enough.”
It’s important to notice what Paul is doing in this passage. He begins, in verse 31, with the words, “What, then, shall we say in response to this?” He’s drawing a conclusion. Here’s what he says in the few verses leading up to verse 31: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew, he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified” (vv. 28-30). There’s much more in these verses than we can discuss in this context. But the thing that is overwhelmingly clear is that God is for us. He’s been acting on our behalf, and He’s continuing to do so. He’s causing all things to work out for our ultimate good, He’s called us to Himself, and predestined us to become like His Son. He’s declared us not guilty, and He’s also glorified us, so that we are, right now, “seated... with him in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 2:6). He lists all these things, then cries out, “What shall we say in response to this?” The place to begin is not by looking at ourselves, taking our spiritual pulse, asking whether we’ve missed anything in trying to confess all our sins. The place to begin is by remembering all God has done, and is doing, on our behalf.
Paul assumes that he’s speaking to people who truly want to follow Jesus Christ. He’s not writing to people who are using the gospel as an excuse to sin. He’s writing to people who have seen their hopeless condition as sinners before a holy God, as he outlines in chapters 1-3, and who have accepted the free gift of justification through the perfect sacrifice of Jesus Christ. They’ve seen that they have no hope of saving themselves, and they have bowed before God’s lordship and been declared not guilty. He’s writing to people who want to be free from sin (as he describes in chapters 6-7), not people who want to be free to sin as much as they want. People who use the gospel as an excuse to sin are not believers at all. They haven’t yet understood the reality of their position before a holy God.
Paul also assumes that he’s writing to people with struggles, people who are encountering difficulties in their lives. He asks, in verse 35, whether the difficulties we encounter in this life can ever separate us from the love of Christ, and then he says: “As it is written: ‘For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’” These people are true believers, and they are enduring difficulties.
Listen to what J.I. Packer says about this passage: “So Paul pictures his readers; and we recognize ourselves in his mirror. Here is the Christian troubled by the memory of a moral lapse; the Christian whose integrity has lost him a friend or a job; the Christian parent whose children are disappointing him (or her); the Christian woman going through ‘the change’; the Christian made to feel an outsider at home or at work because of his faith; the Christian burdened by the death of someone he feels should have lived, or the continued life of a senile relative... who he feels should have died; the Christian who feels God cannot care for him, or life would be less rough; and many more. But it is precisely people like this–people, in other words, like us–whom Paul is challenging. ‘What shall we say to these things? Think–think–think!’” (Knowing God, pp. 235-36). The answer for all these people is not another revival meeting. The answer is to remember the truth, remember all that God has already done to reconcile us to Himself. We remember the truth, then we go on to ask, “What shall say in response to this?”
Paul is drawing a conclusion, not only to the verses immediately preceding this passage, but to the whole argument he’s been developing since the middle of chapter 1. These verses are really the high point of the entire letter. He’s been establishing, throughout all these chapters, that God is for us, that He’s gone to great lengths to provide a way out of our hopeless condition in this fallen world. So he begins, in the second half of verse 31, saying, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” It’s a rhetorical question. The word “if” doesn’t mean that the question is in doubt. He’s saying, “Since” God is for us. This is the thing he’s been demonstrating all along, throughout this letter. There’s also a note of defiance in this question. He’s not saying that we have no enemies. He’s saying that since God is for us our enemies can’t destroy us. They’re powerless to overcome us, because God is on our side. The Message says it this way: “With God on our side like this, how can we lose?”
In verse 32, Paul goes on to remind us of all God has already done: “If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us?” (The Message). He’s arguing from the greater to the lesser. Since God has already done the greatest thing imaginable by sending His own Son for our sake, how can we think that He won’t give us all we need to keep going? He has a similar argument in chapter 5: “For if, when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!” (V. 10). God showed His love for us by sending His Son to die in our place while we were still sinners (5:8). How can we now doubt His love? How can we think, in the light of this, that He’s just waiting for us to take the wrong step. If He went to such lengths for us while we were His enemies, how can we think that He won’t follow through?
But Paul doesn’t stop there. He knows that our conscience often plagues us, that our accuser is constantly trying to undermine our assurance. He knows that Satan tries to undermine our relationship with God by reminding us of our unworthiness. There’s a good picture of Satan’s approach in Zechariah 3: “Then the angel showed me Jeshua the high priest standing before the angel of the Lord. Satan was there at the angel’s right hand, accusing Jeshua of many things. And the Lord said to Satan, ‘I, the Lord, reject your accusations, Satan. Yes, the Lord, who has chosen Jerusalem, rebukes you. This man is like a burning stick that has been snatched from a fire.’ Jeshua’s clothing was filthy as he stood there before the angel. So the angel said to the others standing there, ‘Take off his filthy clothes.’ And turning to Jeshua he said, ‘See, I have taken away your sins, and now I am giving you these fine new clothes’” (Zechariah 3:1-4, NLT). There’s every reason to think that Satan’s accusations are true. Jeshua’s clothing is filthy; he’s in need of cleansing. The accusations are true. But God rejects them. “This man is like a burning stick that has been snatched from a fire.... See, I have taken away your sins.”
The same is true for us: “Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies.” Satan may accuse us–he may even accuse us accurately–but the judge has already declared us not guilty. The Lord rejects his accusation. J.B. Phillips says it this way: “The judge himself has declared us free from sin. Who is in a position to condemn?” Verse 34 takes this same idea even further: “Who would dare even point a finger? The One who died for us–who was raised to life for us!–is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us” (The Message). How can anyone successfully accuse us? Christ died to pay in full the penalty for our guilt. He was raised from the dead, showing that God accepted the payment, and that the debt is now cancelled. And now the very One who died in our place is seated at the right hand of God interceding for us. We have an advocate with the Father. When Satan comes with his accusations, God says to him, “I, the Lord, reject your accusations.” And He says to us, “See, I have taken away your sins.” In the light of that, who is there to bring any charge against us?
But maybe we know all that. We understand that God loves us, that He has done everything necessary to reconcile us to Himself, that our debt has been paid up in full. But what about the future? Maybe something will happen in the future to destroy our faith. We live in a world where horrible things happen. Maybe something will come our way that will simply be too much for our weak faith to endure. Paul deals with that question in verses 35-39. “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?” These are things that God’s people have experienced all through history: “As it is written: ‘For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’” Will any of these things destroy us? “No, in all these things we are more than conquerors”–not because we’re exceptionally strong, because we’re only too aware of our own weakness–but, “through him who loved us.”
Paul’s conclusion is in verse 39: “I’m absolutely convinced that nothing–nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable–absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us” (The Message). Nothing, not all the power of hell, because God has disarmed all the powers and authorities through the cross of Jesus Christ. Not our own weakness of faith. God has set His love upon us, and nothing can separate us from that love. Our survival depends on His faithfulness and love, not our own. Nothing can separate us from His love. He is determined to bring us safely to His eternal kingdom, and we can rest in the assurance that He will accomplish His purposes. Our problem, most of the time, is that we think too much about ourselves and too little about Him. The most significant factor in our long-term survival as Christians is not our own weakness, but His strength. He, in His infinite power, receives glory through our weakness.
Does this mean that we’re safe, no matter what we do? No. Other parts of the New Testament have stern warnings against the sin of presumption, the sin of thinking we can live a life of rebellion against God and still go to heaven because we accepted Christ as Savior at an evangelistic meeting years ago. But to those who long to see God face to face, who are fearful that something will happen in the future to destroy their faith, the message of Romans 8 is one of comfort. God is with us, and He is committed to walking with us until the day we stand in His presence. He is faithful, and He will not let us go. Eugene Peterson has a good balance: “it is not possible to drift unconsciously from faith to perdition. We wander like lost sheep, true; but he is a faithful shepherd who pursues us relentlessly. We have our ups and downs, zealously believing one day and gloomily doubting the next, but he is faithful. We break our promises, but he doesn’t break his. Discipleship is not a contract in which if we break our part of the agreement he is free to break his; it is a covenant in which he establishes the conditions and guarantees the results. Certainly, you may quit if you wish. You may say no to God. It’s a free faith. You may choose the crooked way. He will not keep you against your will. But it is not the kind of thing you fall into by chance or slip into by ignorance. Defection requires a deliberate sustained and determined act of rejection” (A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, pp. 85-86). It’s not an easy thing to walk away from God, even when we decide that’s what we want to do.
The two extremes are presumption and paranoia. To those who presumptuously live careless lives, expecting that God will keep His end of the bargain no matter what, the answer is: “See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God” (Hebrews 3:12). Presumption is one of the signs of a “sinful, unbelieving heart.” If you are guilty of this sort of attitude, the proper response is to cry out to God for mercy, and to ask Him to replace your sinful, unbelieving heart with a heart that bows before His lordship and longs to please Him in all things.
But to those who are fearful, the message is: “Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be shaken but endures forever” (Psalm 125:1), or “in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” The Christian life is not like walking a tightrope, living constantly with the threat of falling to one side or the other. We fail, yes. We sin and rebel. But God has called us by His name; He has set His unchanging love upon us, and He has taken it upon Himself to bring us safely to His eternal kingdom. He doesn’t leave us on our own. He has promised to walk with us, even though at times we’re not aware of His presence.
God is easy to live with, and fellowship with Him is delightful beyond all description. He’s not a harsh taskmaster, waiting for an opportunity to crush us. God is for us, not against us. Cultivate a growing relationship with Him. Seek to know Him and walk with Him, until you can’t bear the thought of being separated from His presence. This is the safest, surest way to avoid the extremes of presumption and paranoia.
Peter says something along these lines in his second letter. “His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires. For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But if anyone does not have them, he is nearsighted and blind, and has forgotten that he has been cleansed from his past sins. Therefore, my brothers, be all the more eager to make your calling and election sure. For if you do these things, you will never fall, and you will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 1:3-11).
But we don’t do this in an anxious, paranoid spirit. We don’t seek Him because we’re afraid that if we take a wrong step along the way He’ll reach down and cast us into the lake of fire. We seek Him, hungering and thirsting to know this God who loved us so much He was willing to give His only Son to die for our sins. Brother Francis was right. We can’t ever be good enough. But Jesus is good enough, and our acceptance and safety are in Him. In Him we find rest and refuge. We seek to know Him because knowing Him fulfills the deepest longings of our souls. We seek Him diligently, resting in the certainty that He loves us and that He, in His faithfulness, will bring us safely to His eternal kingdom.
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