JAMES D. G. DUNN
One of the most troubling problems in writing on the theology of the New Testament, or on the New Testament’s teaching on a particular theme or issue, is that we quickly find there is no single or uniform theology. There are some basic essentials, of course—the centrality of Christ, the call for faith/trust, for example. But when such basic essentials are elaborated or referred to different situations, the more diverse expressions of the teaching can quickly become difficult to hold together. I made this point in my Unity and Diversity in the New Testament, 1 when I noted that it was certainly possible to abstract a core kerygma or gospel from the different New Testament writings, a core on which the New Testament writers would agree; but as soon as the core was elaborated in the different writings and expressed in reference to different particular situations, it became diverse. 2 An obvious case is the gospel for the Gentiles and the gospel for the circumcision, as agreed in Galatians 2:9—the same gospel, yes; but it only takes the next paragraph (Gal. 2:11–16) to show that the question of how this gospel was understood and worked out was by no means agreed or an effective force for unity or unified mission.
I made a similar point in The Theology of Paul the Apostle, in reference to Paul’s diverse “metaphors of salvation.” 3 The range of experiences that Paul referred to in his metaphors meant that no single metaphor was adequate to capture that range, or indeed to express the depths of any particular experience. Metaphors like “liberation” or “reconciliation” can undoubtedly express aspects of the beginning or process of salvation, but hardly the whole of it. Paul could talk of his own experience as an “abortion” (1 Cor. 15:8), of becoming the Corinthians’ father through the gospel (1 Cor. 4:15), of giving birth to the Galatians (Gal. 4:19). He uses the imagery of “adoption” twice within a few verses—first in connection with the beginning of Christian experience and second of its climax in the resurrection of the body (Rom. 8:15, 23). Becoming a Christian can be likened to an engagement with Christ (2 Cor. 11:2), or indeed to a marriage with Christ (1 Cor. 6:17), or to being put to death with Christ (Rom. 6:3–6). How can we hold these all together? How can we fit them all into a single, coherent narrative?
Of course, fundamental to the whole is the problem of language—that the language of everyday human experience is basically inadequate to express the less than tangible spiritual realities, including the language and imagery used for God, for the reality of the risen and exalted Jesus, or for the person and work of the Holy Spirit. In all these cases, if we are to speak about them at all, we must accept that the imagery is analogical, that the language is metaphorical. And this has to include the recognition that such language is not literal, and that to understand it as literal propositional statements is to misunderstand it and abuse it.
Such language we can believe with confidence is referential: it refers to actual realities. But it is allusive and aspectival rather than straightforwardly descriptive. Any attempts to coordinate the metaphors into some kind of ordo salutis (order of salvation) inevitably use a model of rationality into which the metaphors do not readily fit. The amazing difficulty that so many Pauline commentators have experienced in trying to hold together his language of justification and participation “in Christ” well illustrates the blind spot here 4—amazing, since Paul himself seems to have found no difficulty in thinking together the two (to us) divergent models of the salvation process held out in his gospel.
Despite all this, the history of Christianity has seen repeated attempts to draw up a coherent ordo salutis, to settle on a particular formulation or metaphor (or structure) that provides the key or norm for all the others—one to which all the others can therefore be subordinated. For example, in the history of mainstream Christianity it quickly became the norm to make the bishop the focus of church and to rule out of order any alternative, despite the diversity of church order attested in the New Testament churches. Or again, notwithstanding a verse like John 3:8 and the record of the Spirit’s uncontrollability in Christianity’s beginnings, the work of the Spirit was compressed into sacrament and Bible where it could more easily be controlled—the Spirit’s function restrained by being neatly fitted into good order.
Similarly, in Lutheranism the metaphor of “justification” became the article by which the church stands or falls, and all the other metaphors were subordinated to it. Today the metaphor of new birth (“born again”) dominates the way in which many Christians envisage what becoming and being a Christian means. “Scholasticism” may refer primarily to the theological discussions of the Middle Ages, but it is also a useful label for attempts to conform the charismatic insights of a Luther or a Calvin into a formal and coherent structure where rational consistency is the determinative consideration.
An especially poignant example of the frustrating inability to organize the diverse New Testament material into a neatly consistent schema—frustrating, because it would make it so much easier to speak in propositional terms about the schema and so much easier to identify and label those who depart from its clear-cut terms—is the issue of what the New Testament writers taught about final judgment; particularly, how to reconcile Paul’s talk of judgment by faith and not by works (of the law) and his teaching that judgment will be according to works. How, to refer to an exquisitely poignant example, are we to integrate the wonderful assurance held out in Romans 8:31–39 5 with the sobering warning of 2 Corinthians 5:10? The issues do not arise solely from Paul’s letters, but the issue of judgment according to works, especially how it relates to his teaching on justification by faith and not by works, is so pressing in the case of Paul and so acute for any adequate appreciation of his theology and his gospel, that I will have to make Paul’s teaching on the point the principal focus of this essay. 6
As our introductory observations imply, when we turn to Paul, we must bear in mind that his teaching comes in different letters, written to different churches and to differing situations. The issue even arises whether we can speak of a theology of Paul or have to limit ourselves to speaking about the theology of the individual letters. I am sufficiently confident that we can speak of Paul’s theology, 7 but even so, the particularity of the individual statements and individual letters can never be ignored.
So far as “judgment according to works” is concerned, the issue can be considered under several heads.
It is easy to forget that Paul draws the metaphor of justification from the law court—justification as the judge’s acquittal of the accused—and that the primary reference of the law-court imagery for Paul is the final judgment. 8 There are two features of his gospel that made it such wonderful “good news” for Paul: that God justified the ungodly, that is, those who were guilty, despite their guilt—including, and especially the law-less Gentiles; and that the verdict of justification can be pronounced now, already, to those who accept his gospel and believe in Jesus Christ.
This conviction that God is a God “who justifies the ungodly” (Rom. 4:5), of course, actually cuts across the law-court metaphor (another warning not to press the metaphor too logically). For justification/acquittal of the wicked was abhorrent to one of the most basic canons of Jewish justice. 9 It would seem also to run counter to Israel’s covenant with God. After all the ungodly person was by definition the law breaker, the one unfaithful to the God who had been faithful to the promises he made to the patriarchs and who had delivered his people from slavery in Egypt. The law breaker had put himself outside the law, outside the covenant, beyond the outreach of God’s saving righteousness. And this applied to the Gentile all the more, who was, by definition law-less, an out-law, a sinner.
However, Paul takes his start from the fact that God gave his promise to Abraham without precondition, made his covenant with Abraham when he was ungodly. 10 For Paul, Genesis 15:6 made clear the character and terms of God’s justification: “Abraham believed God (God’s promise) and it was reckoned to him for righteousness”; he was acquitted before God, treated as righteous by God. So this initial act of righ-teousing/right-wising the ungodly, this definitive act of justifying the sinner, was an act of pure grace. Not only so, but God remained faithful to the descendants of Abraham embraced by his promise, even when they proved faithless (Rom. 3:3–6), so that the righteousness of God to Israel was displayed as saving righteousness, vindicating righteousness. 11 And Paul takes this up too in his gospel of God’s saving righteousness to all who believe, Gentile as well as Jew (Rom. 1:16–17). 12 So God’s acceptance/justification of the sinner lies at the heart of Paul’s gospel, not as a corrective of Israel’s salvation history but as an extension and further application of it.
The other striking feature of Paul’s gospel of justification is that it can be experienced now. This is nowhere clearer than in the triumphant aorist tense opening of Romans 5: “Therefore, having been justified from faith …” (Rom. 5:1). 13 Yet at the same time Paul retains the more basic thought of justification, acquittal as taking place at and awaiting final judgment, using the same verb “justify” (dikaio?) to look forward to that final judgment (Rom. 2:13; 3:20, 30). 14 Less typical of Paul’s actual usage, but more typical of his theology, is his talk of “the hope of righteousness” (or hoped-for righteousness) as something “eagerly awaited” (Gal. 5:5). This recognition of the “not yet” dimension of justification by faith gives added force to Luther’s simul peccator et iustus (“simultaneously sinner and righteous”).
The issue raised, however, is how the two justifications relate to one another. Does the first justification ensure the second? And since the initial justification is justification of the ungodly, does that mean that the final justification will be similar? And if it is only the ungodly sinner who is justified, by divine initiative and grace, does that bind the doctrine of justification to a doctrine of election; that is, only those will be acquitted at the final judgment to whom God has made promise and stretched out his grace without precondition? Let us look more closely at the “not yet” aspect of Paul’s gospel of salvation.
In two places Paul speaks about beginning and completing the Christian life. In Philippians 1:6 it is a word of reassurance: “I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in/among you will complete it by the day of Jesus Christ.” But in Galatians 3:3 there is a warning note: “Are you so foolish? Having begun with the Spirit, are you now made complete with the flesh?” There is a process certainly already begun but yet still to be completed.
Similarly, we recall that the gift of the Spirit, which for Paul constitutes the beginning of the Christian experience (Rom. 8:9, 14), is the first stage in a lengthy process. The Spirit is the arrabōn, the “first installment” of the whole process and “guarantee” of its completion (2 Cor. 1:22). It is the “pledge” of God’s complete inheritance (Eph. 1:13–14). In 2 Corinthians 5:5 the Spirit is the arrabōn of the process described in 4:16–5:4, the process of outward wasting away and inner renewal that climaxes in the transition/transformation into resurrection body.
In the equivalent imagery of the aparch?, the “firstfruits,” which is the first sheaf of the harvest being reaped, the Spirit is the beginning of the process destined to climax in “the redemption of the body” (Rom. 8:23). As Jesus’ resurrection was the aparch? of the harvest of the resurrected dead (1 Cor. 15:20), so the gift of the Spirit begins a process that will climax in the resurrection of the body (Rom. 8:11), the aparch? of the eschatological harvest of resurrection/spiritual bodies patterned on Christ’s resurrection (1 Cor. 15:44–49).
It is easy, then, to forget that for Paul “salvation” is a process. Indeed, Paul uses the term itself, “salvation,” to speak of the end result of the process (particularly Rom. 13:11; 1 Thess. 5:8–9), and the verb “save” in the future tense as something still hoped for (Rom. 5:9–10; 10:9, 13; 11:26; 1 Cor. 3:15; 5:5). Christians most typically are “those who are (in process of) being saved” (1 Cor. 1:18; 15:2; 2 Cor. 2:15).
The question, then, is how these two tenses, the already beginning and the not yet completion, are related to each other in Paul’s thought. Does the beginning guarantee the completion? A reading of Philippians 1:6 might suggest so: Christ will complete what he has begun. But a reading of Galatians 3:3 might as easily suggest much more caution: Is it possible that those who have begun with the Spirit will revert to the flesh—and so fail to complete? Could the guarantee fail, not because of the guarantee itself, but because of the failure of the one to whom it was given? Could the process of renewal not reach its intended goal? This leads directly to another aspect of Paul’s teaching on the process of salvation.
A disturbing feature of Paul’s theology of the salvation process is the degree of hesitation and concern he shows that it might not be completed—disturbing at least to anyone brought up theologically within a Calvinist systematic theology, as I was, where the perseverance/preservation of the saints is a fundamental tenet. The disturbing feature is that Paul regarded the possibility of apostasy, of failing to persevere, as a real danger for his converts. 15
• Romans 8:13—“If you live in accordance with the flesh, you will certainly die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” Paul evidently envisaged the real possibility that believers might live kata sarka (“according to the flesh”), and if they did so they would die. That is to say, if they abandoned the struggle between Spirit and flesh and reverted to a wholly fleshly existence, they would not experience that daily renewal toward wholeness, but only the daily deterioration toward the destruction of the flesh in death.
• Galatians 6:8—“Those who sow to the Spirit shall from the Spirit reap eternal life”; whereas “those who sow to their own flesh shall from the flesh reap corruption.” The “corruption” referred to is evidently the opposite of “eternal life.”
We are not surprised, then, at the equivalent warnings elsewhere:
• Paul envisages the possibility of “destroying” the work of salvation in a person (Rom. 14:15, 20; 1 Cor. 3:17; 8:11; 10:9–11).
• Paul is concerned lest his evangelistic work might have been in vain (2 Cor. 6:1; Gal. 2:2; 4:11; Phil. 2:16; 1 Thess. 3:5).
• Paul is concerned lest his converts be “estranged from Christ” and fall “away from grace” (Gal. 5:4).
• Paul is concerned lest he himself should be “disqualified” (1 Cor. 9.27).
• Paul warns regularly about the perils of moral failure (1 Cor. 3:17; 10:12; 11:27–29; 2 Cor. 12:21; 13:5; Gal. 5:4; Col. 1:22–23).
• Paul warns the Gentile Christians in Rome that they could be cut off from the olive tree of Israel just as easily as the unbelieving of Israel had been (Rom. 11:20–22).
We should also observe the qualifications that feature at a number of points in Paul’s letters:
• “joint heirs with Christ provided that we suffer with him in order that we might be glorified with him” (Rom. 8:17)
• the gospel “through which you are being saved if you hold on to it” (1 Cor. 15:2)
• reconciled to be presented holy and blameless before God “provided that you remain in the faith established and steadfast and not shifting from the hope of the gospel” (Col. 1:22–23) 16
• hence also the calls to carefulness and watchfulness (1 Cor. 3:10; 8:9; 10:12; Gal. 5:15) and to self-scrutiny (1 Cor. 11:29–30; 2 Cor. 13:5), and Paul’s recognition that discipline is still necessary if the race is to be completed (1 Cor. 9:27; Phil. 3:12–14)
In the face of such a catalogue of concern, it is hardly possible to doubt that part of Paul’s pastoral theology was his all-too-real concern that faith could once again be compromised and cease to be simple trust, that commitment could be relaxed and resolve critically weakened. The result would be an estrangement from Christ, a falling away from grace, a reversion to life solely “in accordance with the flesh,” and the loss of the prospect of resurrection life.
Here the parallel with the history of salvation as it was understood within Israel and in Second Temple Judaism becomes somewhat uncomfortable. For if E. P. Sanders is correct and Israel’s pattern of salvation can be summed up in terms of “covenantal nomism,” 17 then the parallel with what Paul seems to hold forth as the pattern of salvation according to his gospel does begin to become uncomfortable for all who take it for granted that salvation in Judaism and Christianity are antithetical.
Traditionally, Paul’s opposition to Israel’s “pattern of religion” has been premised on his being opposed to the suggestion that Israel had to prove its worthiness of salvation by its obedience to the Torah. That is to say, Paul reacted negatively to the inference that Israel’s salvation was conditional upon its obedience. The reaction against Sanders’ emphasis on the election/covenant dimension of “covenantal nomism” was provoked by the uncomfortable suggestion in effect that Sanders was making Israel’s hope of salvation unjustifiably dependent on God’s prior and unmerited choice of Israel to be his special people.
It is true that Sanders had emphasized the nomism dimension of “covenantal nomism”—that the maintenance of Israel’s position within the covenant was conditional on its obedience to the Torah—but evidently he had not emphasized it sufficiently for those who thought it essential rather to emphasize the conditionality of Israel’s salvation on such obedience. 18 But now it would appear that Paul also saw the salvation that his gospel promised to be conditional, at least in some degree, on his converts’ “obedience of faith” (Rom. 1:5). Morna Hooker was surprised that the pattern of salvation that Sanders saw in Palestinian Judaism fitted so exactly the Pauline pattern of Christian experience: “God’s saving grace evokes man’s answering obedience.” 19 But the real surprise for many is that Paul’s theology of salvation fits so well with Judaism’s “covenantal nomism”!
I refer here to the long-running dispute between Reformed and Catholic theology on this point, usually referred to as the issue whether righteousness is “imputed” or “infused.” Is the righteousness of the Christian always an “alien righteousness,” something that the Christian never “has”? Can the status of “righteous” never be affirmed of the sinner except as a status attributed to one who will never be less or other than undeserving? 20 Or is the promise of the gospel that the believing sinner will become righteous, or the obligation of the gospel that the believing sinner will act righteously? In the one case, the Reformed concern is that any emphasis given to the believing sinner as “righteous” opens the door to the idea of salvation as something earned, to doctrines of merit. On the Catholic side, the case can be made that while the Christian life begins with faith and always depends on faith, it is never less than the divine intention that faith should be expressed also in faithfulness (pistis embraces both meanings), 21 that Paul always intended that faith should “operate effectively through love” (Gal. 5:6), and that James was correct in his insistence that “faith, by itself, if it has no works, is dead” (Jas. 2:17).
Here we find ourselves caught in the same dilemma as referred to in the opening section: that there are two emphases in Paul that his post-Reformation followers have found difficult to hold together. On the one hand, there is little doubt that Paul used the verb “justify” to refer to God’s justifying the sinner, vindicating the ungodly, acquitting the guilty. The gospel for Paul was that God’s saving righteousness reached out to and embraced all, Gentile as well as Jew, simply on the basis that they trusted and relied on him, not on anything they had done or achieved (Rom. 4:5, 16–22). Faith was what made it possible for the sinner to partake in that saving righteousness, and faith remained on the human side the only medium for reception of and response to God’s grace; “whatever does not proceed from faith is sin” (Rom. 14:23).
On the other hand, however, we can hardly ignore Paul’s equal emphasis on the transforming character of divine grace. In the present discussion this is the point that needs to be brought out more clearly. Justification may be the most important image for the beginning and end of the process; but the in-between stage of the process, usually distinguished as “sanctification,” has to be reckoned with as well. Paul assuredly expected his converts not only to be accounted righteous but also to be transformed into better people.
• Paul uses also the language of transformation/metamorphosis for what has happened and continues to happen to Christians (Rom. 12:2; 2 Cor. 3:18).
• Christians are now being “conformed” to the image of Christ as they will in the end be conformed to his glorious body (Rom. 8:29; Phil. 3:10, 21); sanctification is a process of becoming like Christ.
• Becoming a Christian means being clothed with a new self, the replacing the old self and its practices, an inner renewing in accordance with the image of its creator, something integral to the process toward the final resurrection body transformation (2 Cor. 4:16; Col. 3:9–10).
• So, naturally, Paul expected the process of salvation to produce a tested, approved character (dokimē) (Rom. 5:4; 2 Cor. 2:9); he hoped to present his converts “pure” (hagnos, eilikrinēs), “blameless” (amōmos, aproskopos), “faultless” (amemptos), “irreproachable” (anegklētos), and “mature/perfect” (teleios) at the coming of Christ (1 Cor. 1:8; 2 Cor. 11:2; Phil 1:6, 10; Col. 1:22, 28; 1 Thess. 3:13; 5:23). 22
It is hard to avoid the conclusion, then, that as Paul insisted on the need for faith, so he was equally insistent that his converts should demonstrate their faith by the quality of lives they lived.
• Paul expected obedience from his converts (Rom. 1:5; 6:16, 19; 15:18) and for his converts to “lead a life worthy of the Lord/worthy of God” (Col. 1:10; 1 Thess. 2:12);
• He looked for “the harvest or fruit of righteousness” in their lives (2 Cor. 9:9–10; Phil. 1:11)—“righteousness” used in an Old Testament sense of acts of kindness done rather than something imputed to them (Ps. 112:9).
• He expected believers to “fulfill” the law (Rom. 8:4), and to produce “good works” (2 Cor. 9:8; Col. 1:10).
• In speaking of the love that fulfills the law, Paul evidently had specific conduct in mind (Rom. 12:9–13.10; Gal. 5:13–15). 23
• “Keeping” the requirements of the law continued to be important for Paul (Rom. 2:26–27; 1 Cor. 7:19).
In view of the above passages, it is hard to escape the conclusion that Paul not only saw righteousness as imputed, as a status attributed, but also as a quality that he fully expected to be manifested in the lives of his converts. 24 Whether we categorize it in terms of “infused righteousness” or of “sanctification” does not really matter. What is important is to recognize that this emphasis was also integral to Paul’s gospel and theology. Later commentators may have found it difficult to hold the two emphases together, but clearly Paul himself did not. And rather than attempting to fit them together in some scheme spatchcocked together by minds that prize consistency more highly than honoring the full range of what Paul actually wrote and taught, we should hold together both emphases, however much the one taken out of Paul’s contexts jars with the other similarly extracted from Paul’s letters.
This reminds us once more that Paul’s teaching on these matters, these same twin emphases, is not dissimilar from the teaching of the Old Testament and of the Judaism of his day—back to the issue of Paul’s “covenantal nomism”! Another way to pose the issue of this section is in terms of a contrast between “synergism” and “monergism.” Those who want to play down Paul’s emphasis on judgment according to works do so by claiming that Paul opposed the Jewish scheme of salvation because it was “synergistic,” that is, depended on human cooperation with God. In contrast, so the argument goes, Paul put forward a scheme of salvation that was “monergistic,” that is, solely and wholly dependent on God’s doing. 25
But now it should be clear that Paul did lay responsibility on his converts, in language that reads far more synergistically than monergistically. The classic text, Philippians 2:12–13 expresses the point succinctly: “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (NRSV); why should it prove so problematic that Paul could put both clauses in the same sentence? 26
Before turning to the key Pauline teaching on judgment according to works, we should review one other aspect of the discussion.
One of the ways for those unhappy with the thought that Paul’s gospel had any synergistic aspect to it is to argue that the fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22–23) is the natural/spiritual outcome of having received the Spirit, for which the believer as such can claim no credit. Does that mean that the fruit of the Spirit is inevitable in every believer? Will every believer unquestionably attain, a measure at least, of love, joy, peace, patience, and so on? In contrast to the failure of the old covenant to meet the demands of the law, so the argument runs, members of the new covenant are enabled or empowered to “fulfill the requirements of the law” by the Spirit (Rom. 8:4); “those who have the Spirit actually keep the law.” 27 Does that mean that keeping the law is inevitable and requires no effort on the part of the believer? Those wary of attributing to Paul any degree of synergism naturally like to emphasize the second half of Philippians 2:12–13 (v. 13: “for it is God who works in you both to will and to work for his good pleasure”).
In commenting on Romans 2:7–10, Peter Stuhlmacher speaks of those who have been granted “a new nature in righteousness and the spiritual ability to do what is right.” 28 Roland Bergmeier comments: “The law finds true fulfilment first on the level of the Spirit …. In the mind of Paul one should speak not of a nova obedientia, but of an obedience now possible for the first time.” 29 And Simon Gathercole speaks of “Paul’s theology of the divine empowerment of Christians” (“the Spirit does offer power to fulfill the Torah under the new covenant”) and thus has no qualms in concluding: “for Paul, divine action is both the source and the continuous cause of obedience for the Christian,” so that “belief in final vindication on the basis of obedience” can be affirmed of Paul also. 30 Similarly, Stephen Westerholm readily agrees that those granted God’s Spirit “to empower their living must express the reality of their new life in suitable behavior”; God’s Spirit “enables them to serve God in a new way…. With faith that is active in love, believers not under the law may in fact fulfill the righteousness that the law requires.” 31
But, can the first half of Philippians 2:12–13 (v. 12: “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling”) be totally absorbed into the second half (v. 13: “for it is God who works in you both to will and to work for his good pleasure”)? Paul’s talk of “walking by the Spirit” or “being led by the Spirit” elsewhere 32 clearly puts responsibility on the believer to so walk, to be so led. Can that responsibility be dissolved in talk of the divine enabling so to act, of which Paul also speaks? Paul certainly has no problem with emphasizing that responsibility, and in stark terms, in the very same context, as we have seen (Rom. 8:13; Gal. 6:8). Is there not a danger of subtly magicking away what for Paul was an important emphasis? To use Galatians 2:20 to remove all responsibility from the believer for any good that he or she does, since it is the indwelling Christ who does it, 33 is to eliminate the “I” as a responsible person.
The problem, however, is that Paul’s ethical teaching consistently assumes that his readers were responsible people, who should be making effort—enabled by God’s Spirit, of course—but nevertheless having the responsibility to walk by the Spirit, to be led by the Spirit, with the express corollary that failure to do so would have severe and possibly damning consequences. Does it therefore not follow for Paul that how these Christians exercised that responsibility would be subject to the judgment of the final judgment? Could Paul ever have agreed that to live as a Christian requires no effort or self-discipline, no hard work, from the individual Christian? And if he expected such, would it not follow that he fully expected that such effort, such work would be among the works to be judged on the day of the Lord?
This brings us to the central issue of this book.
Paul’s teaching on the nature of final judgment is clear enough.
• Romans 2:6–11: God “will render to each in accordance with his works [from Ps. 62:12; Prov. 24:12]. To those who seek for glory and honor and immortality by perseverance in doing good, eternal life. But to those who out of selfish ambition also disobey the truth, being persuaded to unrighteousness, wrath and anger. Affliction and distress on every living person who brings about what is evil, Jew first and Gentile as well. But glory and honor and peace to everyone who brings about what is good, Jew first and Gentile as well. For there is no partiality with God.”
• Romans 2:13: “It is not the hearers of the law who are righteous in God’s sight, but the doers of the law who will be justified”—note that doing, not simply believing, is judged (or simply believing what is heard).
• Romans 14:10–12: “We shall all stand before the judgment seat of God…. So then each of us will give account of himself to God.”
• 1 Corinthians 3:8: “Each will receive wages according to the labor of each.”
• 2 Corinthians 5:10: “All of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.”
• Colossians 3:25: “The wrongdoer will be paid back for whatever wrong has been done, and there is no partiality.” 34
Striking is the way Paul emphasizes the importance of this. Christians will not escape judgment. And the judgment will be “according to works”—that is, undeniably, surely, their works, not the works of Christ—works done as enabled by the Spirit, to be sure, but still their works. Hence, works for which they are responsible, and therefore works for which they can be judged. Paul would hardly think in terms of Christ’s works being subject to judgment in the final judgment; that had already taken place in the resurrection and exaltation of Christ!
Moreover, Paul clearly intended the awareness of this unavoidable judgment to be a major factor in determining how his converts should act, especially toward others. The thought of final judgment should help prevent acts of evil, and Paul does not hesitate to hold out the prospect of reward and prize to encourage the doing of good (1 Cor. 3:14; 9:24–25; Phil. 3:14; Col. 3:24; 2 Tim. 4:8).
Notable in Romans 2:6–11 is the fact that Paul could put the issue solely in terms of doing good and doing evil. There is no mention of faith, or of the possibility that such good-doing will depend on the Spirit. Nor does Paul trouble to clarify that in his later exposition. Does Romans 8:31–39 (nothing “shall be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord”) qualify 2:6–11 (God “will repay to each one according to his works”) so that it no longer applies to the recipients of his letters? 35 The fact that he goes out of his way to emphasize the impartiality of God, that God has no favorites when it comes to judgment (repeated in Col. 3:25), hardly suggests that he did not really think Romans 2:6–11 still applied to those who had received the gospel.
Here again, and not least, we are confronted with an uncomfortable similarity between, on the one hand, a covenantal nomism that included emphasis on judgment on Israel’s failure to obey the Torah, and, on the other hand, Paul’s emphasis that Christians will not escape judgment on their works. If a degree of inconsistency is evident in Judaism’s “covenantal nomism,” 36 it is difficult to see how Paul can be exempted from a similar critique. 37
This brings us right back to where we started. Rather than take one dimension of Paul’s gospel/theology as a fixed given and then try to make the rest of his theology cohere with what is deemed to be most fundamental, we should rather tease out all the emphases he makes in relation to our questions. Once that is done, once we have properly respected the full range of what Paul taught on a subject, we should then try to see how the different emphases hang together and whether they cohere.
We may not find that process easy; the history of Pauline scholarship shows just how hard it is. We may find that in attempting to identify the degree of coherence Paul evidently was content with, we force them together, knocking off awkward edges to make them fit with each other; that too has been a repeated experience in the attempts to systematize Paul’s theology. So perhaps we may simply have to accept, embarrassing as it may be, that we cannot discern an appropriate explanation that is both coherent and satisfying. Perhaps we need to settle for a rhetorical solution. In other words, when Paul saw that his converts needed reassurance, he made one emphasis; and when he saw that they needed to be exhorted and warned, he made another emphasis. That at least would be more faithful to Paul than trying to fit his whole teaching into a shoebox, which in the end is too small for the wholeness of his theology.
It should be clear, then, that the problem of how to relate the thought of “judgment according to works” to the gospel of “justification by faith and not by works” is a problem that is posed particularly by Paul and for Paul’s theology and gospel. Hence discussion of Paul has been the primary and principal focus of this essay. However, on the question of “judgment according to works,” Paul is by no means alone within the New Testament, including, not least, Jesus’ own teaching on this subject. 38 Here we should simply note that we merely create the same problems when attempting to systematize and rationalize the full range of Jesus’ teaching or to fit it all into a neatly consistent and coherent pattern with the rest of the New Testament. How, for example, if the gospel according to Paul is the normative New Testament gospel, are we to fit into it Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son(s), in which there is no redemptive intermediary and no need for one? In the case of the issue here (judgment according to works), it can hardly escape notice that there is teaching in the Gospels to the effect that final judgment will be “according to works.”
Jesus warns explicitly that the Son of Man “will repay to each person according to his way of conducting himself” when he comes (Matt. 16:27; see esp. 25:31–46). 39 In the words of the Johannine Jesus, at that time “those who have done good will come forth (from the grave) to the resurrection of life and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment” (John 5:28–29). These warnings are as pressing for the (Christian) readers of the Gospels as ever were Paul’s. Matthew warns his audiences that to those who merely confess Jesus as “Lord” without obeying the Father’s will, Jesus will say, “Depart from me, workers of lawlessness” (Matt. 7:21–23). Not unlike Paul (Rom. 2:13), Jesus warns that final justification will involve an assessment of what fruit each life has borne (Matt. 12:33–37). Unsurprisingly, then, imagery of reward for achievement or good deeds (works) is not lacking (e.g., 6:1–6; 10:41–42; 25:34–40). And salvation (eternal life) is spoken of as in some degree conditional on faithful endurance (e.g., Mark 13:13). 40
When we look at the other New Testament writings, the message is no different. Hebrews warns more starkly than Paul that those who have once been enlightened and have shared the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come, may too fall away. The ground blessed by rain, if it produces thorns and thistles, “is worthless and on the verge of being cursed; its end is to be burned” (Heb. 6:4–8). Thus for those who “go on sinning deliberately after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, but a fearful expectation of judgment, and a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries” (10:26–27). “The Lord will judge his people,” including “those who have trampled underfoot the Son of God, and have profaned the blood of the covenant by which they were sanctified, and have outraged the Spirit of grace” (10:29–30). “Shrinking back leads to destruction, but faith to the preservation of the soul” (10:39). Hence the writer warns his readers that there is a conditionality about their relationship to Christ—“if we hold firmly to the original commitment to the end” (3:6, 14)—and urges his readers, “Be watchful lest any fall short of the grace of God” (12:15).
James, in his warning that faith without works is dead and that justification/acquittal at the final judgment will be by works and not by faith alone (Jas. 2.12–26), is not at all so far from Paul as those have assumed who have followed Luther in trashing James, because of his qualification of justification by faith alone. 41
One of the several points where 1 Peter can be regarded as close to Paul is his reminder that those who “invoke as Father the one who judges all people impartially according to their deeds” should consequently live their lives in reverent fear (1 Pet. 1:17). In 2 Peter 1:5–11, “entry into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ” seems to be at least to some extent dependent on the recipients’ self-control, endurance, godliness, mutual affection, and love.
In 1 John 4:17 it is not faith or even abiding in God or having his Spirit that can give the recipients “boldness on the day of judgment,” but love—and not just reception of God’s love but loving one another (4:7–12).
Of the passages in the latter New Testament writings only one (Rev. 20:11–15) comes close to Paul’s teaching in 1 Corinthians 3:10–15. In 1 Corinthians 3 judgment of Christians will test (to destruction) only the works that are built as a superstructure on the foundation of Jesus Christ. Wherever shoddy building materials have been used, “the builder will be saved, but only as through fire” (1 Cor. 3:15). However, Paul immediately adds, “if anyone destroys God’s temple [‘the temple which you (plural) are,’ 3:17], God will destroy that person,” which suggests that 3:15 is by no means the whole tale of judgment. The great white throne judgment near to the end of Revelation is one of Revelation’s most fearful visions, where “the dead [are] judged according to their works, as recorded in the books … and all [are] judged according to what they had done” (Rev. 20:11–13). “Anyone whose name was not found written in the book of life was thrown into the lake of fire” (20:15). But judgment of those written in the book of life will be according to the works they have done, as recorded in the book of life. Here, too, therefore, we see another of these formulations that cannot so easily be fitted into others on the same subject.
How, then, can we hold together these different emphases in Paul (and Jesus and the other New Testament writers)? Can we actually reconcile “justification by faith and not by works” with “judgment according to works”? Assuredly we can maintain that any good that the believer does derives entirely from God’s grace and is only wrought by the Spirit’s enabling. Assuredly we can affirm that the believer never approaches the throne of grace, whether now or in the future, except as a sinner, wholly dependent on that grace. Assuredly we can say with Paul that before God there can never be ground for boasting in one’s own doings but only in the glory and grace of God (Rom. 4:2; 5:11; 1 Cor. 1:29, 31; 2 Cor. 10:17; but note also Rom. 15:17; 2 Cor. 1:14; 7:4; Phil. 2:16).
But can we also deny that Paul expected his converts to become better persons because they were “in Christ” and were/should be walking in accordance with the Spirit? Can we deny that for Paul, believers do and will bear responsibility before God for their doings? Can we deny that, according to Paul, Christians too will be judged according to their works? And the same questions have to be put to the other New Testament writers.
So, do we have to say that for Paul and the other New Testament writers salvation will depend, at least to some extent, on (good) works done by the believer? It could, of course, be argued that salvation actually achieved will depend entirely on Christ and his Spirit, while also maintaining that salvation could be lost by our own efforts, or lack of effort. But is such a solution entirely satisfactory in light particularly of the Pauline teaching reviewed in this essay?
Whether we can or cannot successfully knit together the two emphases in Paul’s and the others’ teaching into a single coherent catechism, we surely should not fall into the trap of playing one off against the other, the naively satisfying device that blends one into the other in a way that diminishes the force of one or other, the ignoring of the one in order to give the other the emphasis that we think it deserves. Is it so serious that we cannot fit the two neatly into a single coherent proposition? Is it not more important that we should hear both and respond to both as our situations and (dis)obedience of faith require?
ROBERT N. WILKIN
James D. G. Dunn wonders why people feel the need to reconcile Paul’s teachings on assurance of eschatological salvation with those verses that seem to warn believers that they might fail to persevere and end up eternally condemned. Dunn’s apparent conclusion is to allow both themes equal emphasis in Paul’s work. Warning passages are aimed at the disobedient; justification passages are aimed at the faithful. It all depends on pastoral context: “Is it not more important that we should hear both [themes] and respond to both as our situations and (dis)obedience of faith require?” (p. 141).
However, his ultimate conclusion is different. Despite his caveat against adopting an ordo salutis that artificially subordinates all other aspects of salvation under one overriding norm, Dunn suggests that Paul’s theology is best understood in terms of Second Temple Judaism’s “covenantal nomism,” where, despite an initial, merely probationary justification by faith apart from works, eschatological salvation is ultimately made contingent on our faithful obedience.
In other words, Dunn effectively believes that warnings trump assurance. No matter how assured we may be, that assurance is illusory. The fact is, whatever “salvation” the believer currently has is forfeitable. Hence, warnings about failing to be finally justified will be effectively more important than passages dealing with assurance of probationary justification.
Dunn comes to this conclusion because, despite stressing the importance of taking all the different “metaphors of salvation” into account, he never considers the possibility that salvation itself may be plural. That is, he does not consider that many of the Pauline (and other New Testament) passages traditionally interpreted as addressing the conditions for attaining or losing salvation from hell are really speaking about salvation from temporal afflictions. Is it not possible (as I have argued) that the New Testament refers to different kinds of salvation and different divine judgments, each with its own conditions, subjects, assurances, and warnings?
Where does the idea of a future, final justification for believers come from? Dunn thinks he finds it in Paul. Under the heading, “The Two Justifications” (pp. 122–24), Dunn finds it striking, to use his word, that Paul believed that “justification … can be experienced now” (p. 124). This is striking because the only justification that matters eternally is still future. After citing Romans 5:1 he makes this statement:
Yet at the same time Paul retains the more basic thought of justification, acquittal as taking place at and awaiting final judgment, using the same verb “justify” (dikaio?) to look forward to that final judgment (Rom. 2:13; 3:20, 30) (p. 124).
Note that for Dunn the basic concept of justification is not having a present, once-for-all standing of being declared righteous by God. No present experience of justification guarantees a future experience of final justification. Only if the believer perseveres will his present justification become “acquittal … at … final judgment.”
Dunn’s view is a bit like being registered for a marathon. You can pick up your runner’s packet, bib number, and timing chip, and even start the race, but you can’t be certain that you’ll finish. You have a chance at winning the finisher’s medal, but no certainty about the outcome.
In such a case, of what practical value is present justification? Its main value seems to be knowing that you’re at least in the race to win final justification.
Unfortunately, the verses Dunn appeals to in order to establish such a final judgment for believers teach no such thing. He cites Romans 2:5; 3:3–6; and 8:31–39 as implying “that the primary reference of the law-court imagery for Paul is the final judgment.” But the expression final judgment does not occur in those texts.
For instance, Romans 2:5 refers to legalistic Jewish unbelievers who “are storing up for [themselves] wrath in the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God.” Believers are not in view here, nor are they found in 2:6–7 (which refers, hypothetically, to those who live sinless lives).
Romans 3:6 refers to God’s judgment of the world, but not of believers. Rather, it refers to the judgment of unbelievers during the millennium, as suggested by the only other reference in Paul’s letters to judging the world. In 1 Corinthians 6:2 Paul says, “Do you not know that the saints will judge the world?” During the millennium believers who rule with Christ will share in His judgment of the world. 42
Finally, Romans 8:31–39 does not mention judgment at all. Rather, it refers to the present experience of believers who are being persecuted (vv. 35–36), and Paul assures them that such persecution cannot cut them off from God’s love. In verses 33–34 Paul indicates that no one can bring a charge against God’s chosen ones. Why not? Evidently because those who are justified are secure. Dunn admits as much when he speaks of “the wonderful assurance held out in Romans 8:31–39” (p. 122). But given his view, how can Dunn say this? If it was possible for someone who is justified now to lose their justification at some future judgment, then clearly it would be possible to bring a charge against God’s chosen ones. It all depends on whether or not they persevere. In such a case, Paul’s assurances would not be wonderful; rather, they would be cruelly deceptive.
Dunn has an entire section entitled, “The Conditionality of Salvation” (pp. 125–28). In that section he cites a number of passages in support of his view, but none actually refers to salvation from hell. Rather, they refer to physical death or spiritual ruin in this life (which are real possibilities for believers).
Among the verses he discusses are Romans 8:13 (which actually refers to physical death versus physical life), Galatians 6:8 (discussed in my article), Romans 14:15, 20 and 1 Corinthians 8:11 (referring to spiritually demoralizing or destroying a Christian brother), 1 Corinthians 3:17 (which refers to believers who destroy the local church being temporally judged and possibly dying), and 1 Corinthians 10:9–11 (which refers to Numbers 21 and the physical death of many Jews in the wilderness). In my essay I discussed some of the other verses he cites (e.g., Rom. 8:17; 1 Cor. 9:27; Col. 1:21–23).
Clearly, salvation from temporal afflictions is conditional. But eternal salvation is another matter entirely.
There is only one passage in the Bible that explicitly refers to the Great White Throne Judgment and to what goes on there: Revelation 20:11–15. (It is inferred in Matthew 7:21–23, but little is said about it there.) I would have expected that someone writing about final judgment would discuss Revelation 20:11–15 carefully. Unfortunately, Dunn only mentions it in passing at the end of the article, and his conclusion about it is puzzling: “Here, too, therefore, we see another of these formulations that cannot easily be fitted into others on the same subject” (p. 140). We are not told what Revelation 20:11–15 means, and then Dunn simply moves on to his conclusion.
A careful reading of that passage reveals a significant detail: there are two types of books. There are books (plural) of deeds, and there is the book (singular) of life. And we are told that people are cast into the lake of fire, not because of what is in the books of deeds, but because they were not found in the book of life (Rev. 20:15). This implies that works will not be the issue at the Great White Throne Judgment in relation to eternal condemnation. The issue, rather, will be whether one is in the book of life. See the section in my essay on Revelation 20:11–15 for more details.
Dunn asks an excellent question: “How, to refer to an exquisitely poignant example, are we to integrate the wonderful assurance held out in Romans 8:31–39 with the sobering warning of 2 Corinthians 5:10?” (p. 122). Unfortunately, he does not answer that question at any point in his essay, but seems comfortable accepting an impossible tension. Believers are supposedly certain of their eternal destinies, while at the same time uncertain of their acquittal at the final judgment. In other words, we are at once sure and unsure of whether we will be with the Lord in His kingdom. That makes no sense and is spiritually destructive.
The problem here is that 2 Corinthians 5:10 does not refer to the Great White Throne Judgment, where unbelievers will be judged (Rev. 20:11–15). Rather, it refers to the Judgment Seat of Christ, where we (i.e., believers) will be judged to determine degrees of reward in the kingdom (cf. Rom. 14:10–12; 1 Cor. 3:10–15; 9:24–27; 1 John 2:28; 4:17–19). Indeed, the verses that immediately precede 2 Corinthians 5:9–11 and are part of the same paragraph (i.e., vv. 1–8) refer to the certainty that we will one day soon receive glorified bodies: “We know that if our earthly house is destroyed, we have a building from God … eternal in the heavens” (v. 1, italics added). Paul goes on to say that “God … has given us the Spirit as a guarantee” (v. 5, italics added). Whatever Paul means in verses 9–11 cannot contradict the assurance he just spoke of in verses 1–8. 43
As suggested above, Dunn has a one-sided concept of salvation and fails to discuss the diversity of the various types of New Testament (or Old Testament) salvation. Like the other authors in this book, he views salvation as routinely referring to deliverance from eternal condemnation. But it doesn’t inevitably meant that.
On multiple occasions Dunn refers to salvation, by which he means escaping eternal condemnation, as a process: “It is easy, then, to forget that for Paul ‘salvation’ is a process” (p. 125). “A disturbing feature of Paul’s theology of the salvation process is the degree of hesitation and concern he shows that it might not be completed…. The disturbing feature is that Paul regarded the possibility of apostasy, of failing to persevere, as a real danger for his converts” (pp. 125–26, italics his).
While I heartily agree that Paul regarded failure to persevere as a real possibility, and while I recognize that salvation from temporal difficulties is a process, I do not agree that Paul saw eschatological salvation as a process that could be reversed and end in eternal condemnation. For Paul, the moment a person believed in Christ he or she was justified by God the Father and regenerated by God the Holy Spirit, and nothing can undo either justification or regeneration (cf. Rom. 4:4–5; 8:31–39; 11:6, 29; 1 Cor. 6:19–20; 2 Cor. 5:8; Eph. 2:8–9; Phil. 1:21–24; 3:20–21; 4:3; Col. 3:3–4). And Paul’s doctrine of justification by faith alone is complemented by John’s doctrine of everlasting life, which is also by faith alone (John 3:16, 36; 5:24; 6:35, 39–40, 47; 11:25–26).
The reason why Dunn thinks that eschatological salvation is a process that can be aborted by failure to persevere is because he fails to distinguish between the condition for being regenerated (i.e., faith alone) and the condition for fruitful fellowship with God and for receiving eternal rewards in the messianic kingdom (i.e., faithful works).
The bottom line is, despite Dunn’s appeal to God’s gracious enablement of the believer that makes perseverance possible (e.g., p. 140, “Assuredly we can maintain that any good that the believer does derives entirely from God’s grace and is only wrought by the Spirit’s enabling”), Dunn cannot conceive of the fact that once a person believes in the Lord Jesus, he “has everlasting life, shall not come into judgment, but has passed from death into life” (John 5:24). But that is the essence of the Lord’s teaching on the new birth. If the issue is eschatological salvation, the Baptists have it right: once saved, always saved.
THOMAS R. SCHREINER
James Dunn is well known for his excellent scholarship, and his exegetical skills are on display in his essay. He doesn’t restrict himself to only a portion of what Paul teaches but listens to the whole of the Pauline witness. He rightly observes that Paul proclaims the justification of the ungodly and the necessity of works for final vindication.
The extent of agreement between Dunn and me is significant since we both think good works are necessary for eternal life and final justification. Still, there are differences between us or places where further clarification might prove helpful. Dunn emphasizes the tension between justification by faith and judgment according to works. Similarly, he points to the promises that God will continue the good work he started (Phil. 1:6; cf. Rom. 8:35–39). At the same time, however, there are many warnings in Paul that threaten the readers with final judgment and destruction if they don’t persevere. Dunn cautions us against a facile systematizing of Paul, for dogmatic systems tend to squeeze out part of what Paul says. He says it is better to live with the tension, to resist fitting everything into a logically neat package. We must let Scripture be Scripture and admit that there may be some contradictions in Paul and the scriptural witness.
It should be said at the outset that living with tension is better than the approach that eliminates part of the scriptural witness. Dunn is on to something here. We must beware of denying the necessity of good works for final salvation by appealing to texts that teach salvation is free. Wilkin falls into this error in his essay. As Dunn helps us see, there are too many texts that require good works for final salvation. The Bible repeatedly warns that if we deny Christ and repudiate the gospel by the way we live, we will be damned. It is far better to affirm both salvation by grace and the necessity of works than it is to deny either of these teachings. We have no right to truncate the biblical witness even if we can’t see how it coheres.
Dunn maintains that we find a similar soteriological pattern in Second Temple Judaism and Pauline theology, picking up Sanders’s phrase “covenant nomism.” I wish this matter could be discussed more fully here, but the issue is complex and can’t be examined adequately here.
I would suggest that the pattern of religion in Second Temple Judaism was variegated, and hence some streams of Judaism focused more on grace while others emphasized human obedience. 44 Hence, there is both continuity and discontinuity with Paul.
Dunn’s statements regarding the tensions in Paul and other biblical writers needs to be qualified and adjusted. Indeed, Dunn himself does not adhere to the tension fully. Some texts promise that believers will never fall away, that God will keep those whom he has chosen (e.g., John 6:37–40; 10:28–30; Rom. 8:28–39; Phil. 1:6; 1 Thess. 5:24). But other texts warn believers that if they turn away from the gospel they will face eschatological destruction. They won’t enter the kingdom (e.g., John 15:6; Rom. 11:19–22; Gal. 6:8; Heb. 6:4–8; 10:26–31; 2 Pet. 1:5–11).
Dunn acknowledges the tension here, but it is striking and illuminating to see that he breaks the tension as well. Dunn admits we may be unable to explain how the Scriptures cohere rationally. But he also commits himself to one side of the tension when it comes to warnings and promises, for he argues that the warnings are meaningless if believers can’t fall away. Apparently, then, the promises that God will keep believers so that they will certainly be saved are qualified and modified by the warnings. The warnings, for Dunn, are used to restrict the promises, for the promise that believers will be saved in the future may not come to pass after all. Dunn doesn’t fully abide by his own words about holding onto the tension, for he provides a rational solution to the tension between the promises and warnings. The promises are conditioned by the warnings, so that the warnings receive priority rather than the promises.
Space is lacking to explore this matter fully, but I would like to propose another solution. 45 I agree with Dunn that believers must persevere to the end to be saved and that good works are necessary for final vindication. At the same time, the promises are not conditioned by the warnings. Instead, the warnings and promises are complementary. They are corollaries and do not stand in competition with one another. The warnings function as the means by which the promises are secured. In other words, the warnings are always effective for the elect and for those who are justified. The immediate objection is that such a view makes the warnings superfluous, for the elect always heed the warnings. But such an objection misses the mark, for it reads the warnings abstractly, as if the promises are secured apart from the warnings!
But is such a view of the warnings biblical? Two examples will have to suffice. In Acts 27 Paul receives the promise that every single person on the storm-tossed ship will live. Not a single one will die (27:22–26). Indeed, Paul emphasizes that there are no exceptions. The promise isn’t merely that most will live but that all will live. Still, the promise does not preclude the need for warning. Paul warns immediately after receiving the promise that if the sailors are allowed to escape on the smaller boat, no one will live (27:31). Why does Paul give a warning after receiving the promise that all will live? Apparently Paul (and Luke!) didn’t believe that the promise precluded the need for the warning to the sailors. Indeed, the warning was one of the means by which the promise was secured.
The promise and warning in the above text refers to physical deliverance. In Mark 13, however, the situation is quite different. Jesus warns his disciples repeatedly to be alert and to stand watch. False christs and prophets will arise, and they will attempt to lead disciples astray, and so they must be on guard (13:21–23, 33–37). If anyone embraces a false christ, they will not receive eternal life. Jesus warns his disciples in the strongest possible terms not to be deceived. But notice in 13:22 that Jesus says that it is not possible for the elect to be led astray! They will not embrace a false christ. Such a state of affairs is impossible for the elect, and yet he warns them not be led astray. Mark doesn’t draw the conclusion that the elect don’t need warnings since it is impossible for them to believe in false christs. I would suggest that he believed that the warnings were a means by which the promise is secured for the elect. The warnings and the promises are complementary, not contradictory, in the lives of those God has chosen.
But what about those who fall away? Isn’t it true that some do turn away from the Lord? So doesn’t that show apostasy is possible? Certainly some fall away, but notice that the New Testament, when it considers retrospectively those who fall away, says that they were never truly Christians. Consider here 1 John 2:19, “They went out from us, but they did not really belong to us. For if they had belonged to us, they would have remained with us; but their going showed that none of them belonged to us” (NIV). John clarifies that those who fell away were never truly part of the community. Perseverance is the mark of those who are genuine Christians, and true believers heed the warnings and persevere to the end.
The words of Jesus in Matthew 7:21–23 confirm what is said here. We might think that those who acted in Jesus’ name by doing miracles, casting out demons, and prophesying and then turned toward evil had lost a salvation they once had. But notice what Jesus says: “I never knew you” (7:23). He doesn’t say he knew them once and no longer does. Quite the contrary. Even though they appeared to belong to Jesus, they were actually never part of God’s people (cf. also 1 Cor. 11:19; 2 Tim. 2:18–21).
Dunn and I agree that good works and perseverance are necessary for salvation, and that is a significant agreement, but we disagree on whether genuine believers can apostatize. I argue that the promises given to the elect will never be revoked, that those who truly belong to God will never fall away. The warnings aren’t robbed of their significance, for only those who heed the warnings will persevere. But what we find in the Scriptures is that the elect always heed the warnings, and those who don’t heed them reveal that they never belonged to God in the first place.
Dunn also makes another point in referring to the tension between the promises and the threats in Scripture. He suggests that we might have to accept that the Scriptures are actually contradictory as well. The reason we can’t explain fully the tension between justification by faith and judgment according to works may be due to an unsolvable contradiction.
Dunn is nervous about dogmatic theology that levels the rough edges of Scripture. In a sense I agree. It is better to preserve tension instead of cancelling out an aspect of the biblical witness. Still, none of us can escape systematics and philosophy. To say that Scripture has contradictions betrays a philosophical and theological worldview as well. There are no neutral or objective players in the game. I think it accords better with the historic Christian tradition and the biblical witness to speak of mysteries (if we can’t solve the problem rationally) instead of contradictions. Christians throughout history have acknowledged that the teaching on Jesus’ humanity and deity, the doctrine of the Trinity, and the relationship between the soul and the body are mysteries that exceed our understanding. Many have posited the same when it comes to divine sovereignty and human responsibility.
I have suggested above, of course, an explanation that indicates how the warnings and the promises are not contradictory. I also suggested in my essay that works are the evidence instead of the basis of our right-standing with God. So, I am not appealing to mystery at this point. But if one rejects such solutions, it fits better with the biblical witness and the tradition of Christian theology to posit mystery instead of contradiction. The witness of Christian tradition shouldn’t be dismissed lightly, for the notion that contradictions exist in the Scriptures is a product of historical-critical study (which has its own philosophical and theological standpoint), and I think it is fair to say that the Christian faith has not flourished in cultures where the historical-critical method has become mainstream. 46
Let me close my response by responding more briefly to some issues raised by Dunn. I would argue that righteousness is forensic rather than transformative, and yet Dunn is surely right in his main contention. When we put Paul’s theology together, a wedge should not be driven between the forensic and the transformative, though the forensic is the basis of the transformative.
It also seems that Dunn misunderstands what is typically called monergism in Reformed theology. He says that Philippians 2:12–13 is synergistic rather than monergistic, presumably because it calls on believers to work out their salvation. Monergism in the Reformed tradition, however, has never denied that human beings must choose and act. Similarly, he suggests that monergists believe that since the law is fulfilled through the Spirit, no effort is required of believers. Again, he misconstrues monergism. Instead, 2:12–13 perfectly captures what monergists believe. Human beings must act and choose, but ultimately what they choose and act is attributed to God. He causes them to will and to work for his own good pleasure.
In other words, the ultimacy of God’s work does not cancel out the proximate will of human beings or the authenticity and reality of human choices and decisions. God’s work is not understood as cancelling out the reality of human work, nor is human responsibility dissolved, as Dunn suggests. Perhaps what Dunn writes reflects his experience of the Reformed tradition growing up, but it does not reflect the theological teaching of a John Calvin, John Owen, or J. I. Packer. A tension between divine sovereignty and human responsibility is characteristic of Reformed theology. Many Reformed thinkers, starting with Calvin, acknowledge that the relationship between divine sovereignty and human responsibility is ultimately mysterious. They do not “remove all responsibility from the believer to do good,” as Dunn suggests.
Dunn refers to Romans 2:6–11 and rightly affirms judgment by works, but he also finds it significant that the Spirit is not mentioned here. But such a conclusion cuts off 2:6–11 from the rest of Romans, and even the remainder of Paul’s argument in Romans 2. In 2:26–29 Paul explains that the obedience of the Gentiles stems from the work of the Spirit. The obedience described in 2:6–11 should not be sundered from the obedience produced by the Spirit in 2:26–29.
I have raised a few questions about Dunn’s essay, but the fundamental claim in his essay is on target. Eternal life and final judgment are according to works. This theme can’t be waived out of the New Testament. Grace does lead to transformation, though not perfection, in the lives of believers. Good works are necessary for salvation, though they are the necessary evidence and fruit of new life, not the basis for salvation.
MICHAEL P. BARBER
In his famous work On Christian Doctrine, Augustine cautions his readers about foisting artificial explanations on obscure passages in Scripture. He writes, “It is better even to be in bondage to unknown but useful signs than, by interpreting them wrongly, to draw the neck from under the yoke of bondage only to insert it in the coils of error.” 47 James Dunn makes a similar case in his essay. Faced with seemingly contradictory teachings in the letters of Paul, Dunn insists that we must avoid “the naively satisfying device that blends one into the other in a way that diminishes the force of one or other, the ignoring of the one in order to give the other the emphasis that we think it deserves” (Dunn, p. 141). I heartily concur.
I consider it a distinct honor to have the opportunity to respond to Dunn here, a scholar whose work I have long admired and from which I have learned a great deal. Although I cannot comment on every aspect of his presentation, I would like to focus on the tension he identifies in Paul’s teaching regarding the role of works. To sum up Dunn’s analysis, Paul’s letters affirm two seemingly conflicting ideas: (1) justification is by faith apart from works (e.g., Rom 4:4–5; Eph 2:8) and (2) God will judge believers on the basis of their works (e.g., Rom 2:6–11, 13; 2 Cor 5:10–11).
While I certainly agree that we cannot reconcile every apparent discrepancy in Scripture, I humbly submit that these two aspects of Paul’s teaching regarding the role of works are not necessarily hopelessly at odds. In my contribution here, I offer a Catholic explanation of Paul’s message. Here I would like to explain why I believe this approach actually complements Dunn’s exegesis and avoids the pitfalls he speaks about.
Following Dunn’s lead, I will simply focus on Paul. I recognize that my own essay draws from various books of the New Testament and that this might raise the objection that the approach I have proposed fails to pay due attention to the unique theological distinctiveness of each New Testament writer. I hope this reply, which concentrates on Dunn’s analysis of Paul, will help alleviate such concerns.
In his article, Dunn turns to a text that is crucial for understanding Paul’s view of good works, Philippians 2:12–13: “Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; sfor God is at work in you” (emphasis added).
As Dunn observes, some scholars, pointing to passages such as Galatians 2:20 (“it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me”), have insisted on a monergistic reading of Paul that plays down the importance of human effort. Yet, as he shows, Paul is not advocating a monergistic vision. Dunn writes, “To use Galatians 2:20 to remove all responsibility from the believer for any good that he or she does, since it is the indwelling Christ who does it … is to eliminate the ‘I’ as a responsible person” (Dunn, p. 134). I hope my treatment of Galatians 2 in this volume will not be misconstrued as falling prey to this tendency. Dunn raises an important point here. As he notices, in Paul’s teaching in Philippians 2 there are two agents involved, both God (“at work in you”) and the believer (“work out your own salvation”).
Moreover, as Dunn mentions, a growing number of scholars are now challenging the long-standing presupposition that divine and human agency should be seen in terms of competing categories in the Old Testament and Second Temple literature. 48 Prophetic texts hold both concepts in unison so that “God’s saving agency perpetually works in the newly created moral agent” (cf. e.g., Jer. 32:39).” 49 For instance, God explains in Ezekiel, “I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to observe my ordinances” (Ezek. 36:27, emphasis added). Such passages reveal that Israel will learn to walk in the Lord’s ways, but only with his help. The presence of synergistic language in Paul is thus not surprising.
In sum, Paul does tell believers to “work out your own salvation,” but not because he thinks they can earn it merely on their own power. In his mind, believers are truly capable of doing works that are salvific. Yet this is not Pelagianism. Believers only have this capacity because they have been empowered by God’s grace. John M. G. Barclay therefore speaks of Paul’s view of grace in terms of “empowerment” 50 and “energism.” 51
This explains Paul’s emphasis on the necessity of works for salvation in Romans 2. In fact, Paul even insists that works are related to justification: “the doers of the law will be justified” (Rom 2:13). As Keener has shown, the language of Romans 2 draws on the language used later in the book to describe what Christians are enabled to do by Christ. 52
In Romans 4, Paul insists justification is given not as a “wage” (misthos) to one who has faith but as a gift. However, earlier in Romans, Paul speaks of God’s “repaying” (apodidōmi, 2:6) each one according to their works, also using language of remuneration. 53 To resolve the apparent tension between these two passages, some have made the case that Romans 2 represents a hypothetical or rhetorical strategy that does not authentically represent Paul’s theology. 54
Not only are such readings implausible; 55 they are unnecessary. As we have seen from Philippians 2, Paul teaches that good works do in fact play a determinative role in one’s salvation (Phil. 2:12; cf. also 2 Cor. 5:10; Col. 3:23–25), with the understanding that salvific works are only possible through the indwelling of the Spirit (Phil. 2:13). One should not therefore pit Romans 4 against Romans 2.
Likewise, at first glance, it might seem that Paul’s teaching that the “doers of the law will be justified” (Rom 2:13) is irreconcilable with his insistence that one is “justified by faith apart from works of law” (3:28). However, in light of Dunn’s treatment, a possible solution presents itself.
Dunn does a masterful job highlighting the way salvation is described by Paul as not simply a discrete event, but as a “process” (see the section, “Beginning and Completing,” pp. 124–25). I would like to suggest that this insight allows us to make sense of Paul’s teaching on the role of works.
It seems to me that when Paul explains that a person is justified by faith and not by “works of law” (e.g., Rom. 3:28; Gal. 3:10), he is speaking of the initial grace of justification. Indeed, his specific language of “works of law” (erga nomou) appears to be situated within contexts dealing with debates about the value of circumcision, which seems to have been understood as the entry point into the covenant (cf. Gal. 5:3; also Sir. 44:19–20). Circumcision identifies who is “in” the people of God. 56 Paul insists that things such as circumcision do not merit justification. In Romans, therefore, Paul turns to Genesis 15:6 to point out that Abraham was justified by faith prior to his being circumcised in Genesis 17 (Rom. 4:10). So while his opponents hold that God’s blessing is only on the circumcised (3:9), Paul’s point is that the inception point into the life of blessing (i.e., justification) comes by faith.
Before moving on, I must make an important point. In identifying “works of the law” with circumcision, some might complain that I have too narrowly defined its meaning. Clearly the language involves more than merely circumcision. 57 Yet—and this is key—the controversy over what its broader meaning entails is ultimately irrelevant to my main argument. Paul’s point in Romans and Galatians is that the initial grace of justification comes through faith. 58 I only highlight the link between “works of the law” and circumcision to underscore one thing: Paul’s statements concerning justification by faith apart from “works of law” seem situated within contexts where there are questions about what constitutes entry into the life of blessing (= justification).
The initial grace of justification, then, is a gift, not dependent on works (Rom 4:4–5; 9:32; etc.). This gift enables the Christian to perform works that result from God’s operative power in the believer. By virtue of their source in God, these works have surpassing value. That this represents Pauline thought is clear from Ephesians 2:8–10:
For by grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God—not because of works, lest any man should boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.
One is first saved by grace alone. Yet God’s grace is given to believers to empower them to do good works that far exceed what they would otherwise be capable of on the basis of human effort alone. Thus, in the following chapter, Paul gives glory “to him who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think” (Eph. 3:20, emphasis added). The works the believer performs in union with Christ are therefore capable of doing far more than all we ask or think—they even have salvific value! That is why Paul can tell the Philippians that they must “work out their own salvation.”
I think this solution to the problem of Paul’s seemingly conflicting statements on the role of works fully preserves both dimensions of his teaching. Dunn is right that we must not impose readings on Paul that neatly solve apparent conflicts by muting one aspect of his message in favor of another. The Catholic view does not do that. Rather, it fully reflects his rich understanding of grace, namely, that it is both a free gift that brings about our salvation (Rom. 11:6; Eph. 2:8–9) and that it is empowerment to become “God’s fellow workers” (1 Cor. 3:9; cf. 2 Cor. 6:1).
1. James D. G. Dunn, Unity and Diversity in the New Testament (3rd ed.; London: SCM, 2006).
2. Chap. 2, particularly §7; and in the third edition xxviii-xxx and the revised §76.
3. James D. G. Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 328–33.
4. Well illustrated by D. A. Campbell’s The Deliverance of God: An Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009).
5. P. Stuhlmacher, “Christus Jesus ist hier, der gestorben ist, ja vielmehr, der auch auferweckt ist, der zur Rechten Gottes ist und uns vertritt,” in Auferstehung—Resurrection (ed. F. Avemarie and H. Lichtenberger eds.; WUNT 135 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), 351–61.
6. I will draw particularly on my Theology of Paul §§14 and 18; also The New Perspective on Paul (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005; rev. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), ch. 1, from which I make use of various footnotes.
7. See Dunn, Theology of Paul, esp. 13–26.
8. As implied also in passages like Rom. 2:5 and 3:3–6, as well as 8:31–39.
9. Exod. 23:7; Prov. 17:15; 24:24; Isa. 5:23; CD 1.19.
10. In Jewish reflection Abraham could be seen as the type of the proselyte, the Gentile who turned away from his idolatry to the one true God (Jub. 12.1–21; Josephus, Ant. 1.155; Apoc. Ab. 1–8; Strack-Billerbeck, 3.195).
11. See particularly the Psalms (e.g., Pss. 51:14; 65:5; 71:15) and second Isaiah (Isa. 46:13; 51:5–8; 62:1–2). In Psalms 51:14 and 65:5 the NRSV translates edeq/ēāââ (“righteousness”) as “deliverance”; in the others God’s “righteousness” parallels his “salvation”; and in Isa. 62:2 the NRSV translates ěedeq as “vindication.” Elsewhere (e.g., in Mic. 6:5 and 7:9), the NRSV translates God’s ěāqâ as his “saving acts” and his “vindication.” See further BDB, ěāqâ 2 and 6a.
12. It was this discovery by Luther, that “the righteousness of God” in Rom. 1:16–17 referred not to God’s punitive righteousness but to his saving righteousness, that became the basis and starting point for the Reformation.
13. See also Rom. 4:2; 5:9; 1 Cor. 6:11; Titus 3:7.
14. But implicit also in the present continuous tenses in Rom. 3:24, 26, 28; 4:5; 8:33; Gal. 2:16; 3:8, 11; 5:4; and aorists of Rom. 3:4; 8:30; Gal. 2:16, 17; 3:24.
15. Pace the rather tendentious attempt of J. M. Gundry Volf, Paul and Perseverance: Staying in and Falling Away (WUNT 2.37; Mohr Siebeck, 1990), to weaken the seriousness of Paul’s repeated warnings on this point. I. H. Marshall, Kept by the Power of God: A Study of Perseverance and Falling Away (London: Epworth, 1969; 3rd ed., Carlisle: Paternoster, 1995), 99–125, better reflects the “eschatological reserve” in Paul’s overall treatment.
16. F. F. Bruce, The Epistle of Paul to the Romans (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1963), 219: “Throughout the New Testament continuance is the test of reality.”
17. E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (London: SCM, 1977), 75: “Covenantal nomism is the view that one’s place in God’s plan is established on the basis of the covenant and that the covenant requires as the proper response of man his obedience to its commandments, while providing means of atonement for transgression” (see also pp. 236, 420, 544). In “The New Perspective on Paul,” in Jesus, Paul and the Law (Louisville: Westminster, 1990), 183–214, I note that, though criticizing Sanders’ methodology, J. Neusner accepted Sanders’ representation of rabbinic Judaism at this point as a “wholly sound and … self-evident proposition” (204 fn. 16). It is worth noting that despite some criticisms of the way Sanders develops his argument, nevertheless Sanders’ basic point has been taken in German scholarship: see, e.g., C. Strecker, “Paulus aus einer ‘neuen Perspektive’: Der Paradigmenwechsel in der jüngeren Paulusforschung,” Kirche und Israel 11 (1996): 3–18 (note p. 7); F. Avemarie, “Bund als Gabe und Recht: Semantische Ûberlegeungen zu berît in der rabbinischen Literatur,” in Bund und Tora: Zur theologischen Begriffsgeschichte in alttestamentlicher, frühjüdischer und urchristlicher Tradition (ed. F. Avemarie and H. Lichtenberger; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996), 163–216 (note pp. 213–15); R. Bergmeier, “Das Gesetz im Römerbrief,” in Das Gesetz im Römerbrief und andere Studien zum Neuen Testament (WUNT 121; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000), 31–90 (note pp. 44–48).
18. D. A. Carson, et al., Justification and Variegated Nomism I: The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (WUNT 2.140; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001); S. J. Gathercole, Where Is Boasting? Early Jewish Soteriology and Paul’s Response in Romans 1–5 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002).
19. M. D. Hooker, “Paul and ‘Covenantal Nomism,’” in From Adam to Christ: Essays on Paul (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 155–64 (here p. 157).
20. A. McGrath, lustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1986; 2nd ed., 1998), 189, summarizes “the leading primary characteristics of Protestant doctrines of justification”: “1. Justification is defined as the forensic declaration that the believer is righteous, rather than the process by which he is made righteous, involving a change in his status rather than his nature. 2. A deliberate and systematic distinction is made between justification (the external act by which God declares the sinner to be righteous) and sanctification or regeneration (the internal process of renewal within man)…. 3. Justifying righteousness … is defined as the alien righteousness of Christ, external to man and imputed to him, rather than a righteousness which is inherent to him, located within him, or which in any sense may be said to belong to him.”
21. Characteristically Catholic is the qualification of the Reformation “sola fide” by K. Kertelge, “Rechtfertigung” bei Paulus: Studien zur Struktur und zum Bedeutungsgehalt des paulinischen Rechtfertigungsbegriffs (Münster: Aschendorff, 1967). He sums up his discussion of “Faith and Justification”: “In Paul faith always means obedience to the saving will of God and therefore contains an active element as a person complies with the claim of God” (225).
22. E. Petrenko, Created in Christ Jesus for Good Works: The Integration of Soteriology and Ethics in Ephesians (Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster, 2011) well demonstrates that in Ephesians the transformation of the believer and of the community is integral to “salvation”; “for the writer of Ephesians salvation entails the transformation of the self and of community; these are not addenda to soteriology or its effects, so much as the practical meaning of salvation” (219).
23. J. M. G. Barclay, Obeying the Truth: A Study of Paul’s Ethics in Galatians (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988), 94: “Although the true Abrahamic family are free from the yoke of the law, they are not free from the obligation to work—to turn their faith into loving behaviour.”
24. Peter Stuhlmacher is most typically Lutheran in his exposition of Paul at this point; his most recent contribution is P. Stuhlmacher, Revisiting Paul’s Doctrine of Justification: A Challenge to the New Perspective (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2001). Not unimportant, then, is the critique of Stuhlmacher’s earlier expositions by Mark Seifrid, “Paul’s Use of Righteousness Language Against Its Hellenistic Background,” in Justification and Variegated Nomism II: The Paradoxes of Paul (ed. D. A. Carson et al.; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004), 39–74: “The only point where one might wish for greater clarity is in Stuhlmacher’s insistence on the inherent connection between ‘imputed’ and ‘effective’ righteousness” (73–74). Cf. the earlier criticism of Stuhlmacher by Karl Donfried, “Justification and Last Judgment in Paul,” ZNW 67 (1976): 90–110, reprinted in his Paul, Thessalonica and Early Christianity (London: T&T Clark, 2002), 253–78 (here pp. 257–60). In regard to Stuhlmacher’s evident concern to be faithful to what he regards as the critical insight of the Reformation, Donfried wags a reproachful finger: “the issue is to correctly understand Paul, not the Reformation” (260).
25. Thus D. A. Hagner, “Paul and Judaism: Testing the New Perspective,” in Stuhlmacher, Revisiting, 75–105: “Paul abandoned the synergism of Jewish soteriology for the monergism of total dependence upon the grace of God in Christ” (p. 92). Similarly M. A. Seifrid, Justification by Faith: The Origin and Development of a Central Pauline Theme (NovTSup 68; Leiden: Brill, 1992), 255: Paul “no longer viewed God as cooperating with human effort within the framework of the covenant with Israel. Now for Paul, God’s act in Christ effected salvation in itself.”
26. Seifrid comments appropriately on 1 Cor. 7:19: Paul’s “rejection of ‘works of the Law’ notwithstanding, we may nicely fit Paul into ‘covenantal nomism’” (“Paul’s Use of Righteousness Language,” 65).
27. T. R. Schreiner, Romans (BECNT; Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998), 404–7; also The Law and Its Fulfillment: A Pauline Theology of Law (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1993): “the Spirit, not self-effort, produces obedience”; “the Spirit’s work in a person produces obedience to the law (Rom. 2:26–29)…. The works that are necessary for salvation … are evidence of a salvation already given” (187–88, 203; further ch. 6); similarly Paul, Apostle of God’s Glory in Christ: A Pauline Theology (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2001), 281–82 (further ch. 12).
28. P. Stuhlmacher, Paul’s Letter to the Romans (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994), 47.
29. Bergmeier, “Das Gesetz,” 75–76, citing E. Reinmuth, Geist und Gesetz (Theologische Arbeiten 44; Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1985): “Obviously it is the function of the Spirit to bring to realization the fulfilment of the law’s requirements, which became possible in the condemnation of sin” (p. 70); also O. Hofius, “Gesetz und Evangelium nach 2. Korinther 3,” Paulusstudien (2nd ed.; WUNT 51; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1994), 75–120: “The deliverance from the Torah’s judgment of death is much more at one and the same time the deliverance for that new life determined by the Spirit of God, in which, in accordance with the promise of Ezek. 36.26f., the holy will of God first of all can find and does find its fulfillment” (120).
30. Gathercole, Where Is Boasting? 132, 223, 264.
31. S. Westerholm, Perspectives Old and New on Paul: The “Lutheran” Paul and His Critics (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 431–34; similarly “Paul and the Law in Romans 9–11,” in Paul and the Mosaic Law (ed. J. D. G. Dunn; WUNT 89; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1996; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 215–37: “The ‘works’ which Paul discounts are those of the unredeemed ‘flesh’; the righteous behaviour that he requires is the ‘fruit’ of the Spirit borne in those who have responded to God’s demonstration of righteousness with faith” (236). Similarly M. A. Seifrid, “Unrighteous by Faith: Apostolic Proclamation in Romans 1:18–3:20,” in Justification and Variegated Nomism II,106–45: Paul “understands the gospel to work true obedience to the Law in those who believe” (124–25); “The Spirit, and the Spirit alone, effects real obedience … the work of the Spirit is justification (initial and final) in its outworking” (private correspondence).
32. Rom. 8:4, 14; Gal. 5:16, 18, 25.
33. B. Byrne, “Living out the Righteousness of God: The Contribution of Rom 6:1–8:13 to an Understanding of Paul’s Ethical Presuppositions,” CBQ 43 (1981): 557–81: “it is through living out or, rather, allowing Christ to live out this righteousness within oneself that eternal life is gained” (p. 558); Stuhlmacher, Romans 120; T. Laato, Paulus und das Judentum: Anthropologische Erwägungen (Åbo: Åbo Akademis, 1991): “Christ does the good works of the Christians” (203); M. A. Seifrid, Christ, our Righteousness: Paul’s Theology of Justification (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Apollos, 2000): “Christ—the new person—is present within faith, performing his works” (p. 149). D. B. Garlington, Faith, Obedience and Perseverance (WUNT 79; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1994), 44–71: “It is in Christ that one becomes a ‘doer of the law’; and the Christian’s loving obedience to God is nothing other than the extension to him/her of the loving righteousness of Christ himself” (p. 71).
34. See further K. L. Yinger, Paul, Judaism and Judgment according to Deeds (SNTSMS 105; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 207–15, 277–78, who notes, inter alia, that while the “reward” in 1 Cor. 3:14–15 can be distinguished from salvation, in Col. 3.24 the reward is “the inheritance” (234–35).
35. R. H. Bell, No One Seeks for God: An Exegetical and Theological Study of Romans 1.18–3.20 (WUNT 106; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1998), 254–56, simply denies that the judgment envisaged in Rom. 2 applies to Christians. Contrast K. R. Snodgrass, “Justification by Grace—to the Doers: An Analysis of the Place of Romans 2 in the Theology of Paul,” NTS 32 (1986): 72–93, who notes that “approximately three-fourths of Paul’s judgment sayings refer to the judgment of Christians” (p. 93, fn.101). See further Yinger, Paul, Judaism and Judgment. And on Rom. 2 and 2 Cor. 5.10 see C. VanLandingham, Judgment and Justification in Early Judaism and the Apostle Paul (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2006), 215–32 and 199–202 respectively.
36. F. Avemarie, Tora und Leben: Untersuchungen zur Heilsbedeutung der Tora in der frühen rabbinischen Literatur (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996).
37. This complaint is at the heart of critique of Paul by H. Räisänen, Paul and the Law (WUNT 29; Tübingen: Mohr, 1983), 186: “it would be possible to claim that Paul actually teaches salvation (or at least reward) by works! If we (reasonably enough) refrain from such a claim, it might be wise not to apply it to Paul’s Jewish contemporaries either. There is a difference of emphasis … it is not clear that the pattern itself is much different.” See also Yinger, Paul, Judaism and Judgment, 2–4, 286–90; and VanLandingham, Judgment and Justification, ch. 3: e.g. “other than making Jesus Christ the tribunal, Paul has not altered Jewish belief in the Last Judgment in any significant way” (240).
38. See particularly A. P. Stanley, Did Jesus Teach Salvation by Works? The Role of Works in Salvation in the Synoptic Gospels (ed. David W. Baker; ETSMS 4; Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2006).
39. Recognized by Gathercole, Where Is Boasting? 113–19, 124–31, who also notes that Jesus in Luke 10:28 seems to make eternal life dependent on “doing” (121–24). In view of the main argument of his monograph, Gathercole is remarkably unphased by all this (the chapter is headed “Jewish Soteriology in the New Testament”), despite the possible corollary that Paul’s doctrine of justification was directed against other writers of the NT (even Jesus?!) as much as against the soteriology of Second Temple Judaism.
40. So also Stanley, Did Jesus Teach Salvation by Works? 248–49.
41. See ibid., 308–11; Gathercole, Where Is Boasting? 116–18; P. A. Rainbow, The Way of Salvation: The Role of Christian Obedience in Justification (Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster, 2005).
42. See, e.g., Dwight Hunt, “First Corinthians,” in The Grace New Testament Commentary, (Denton, TX: Grace Evangelical Society, 2010), 2:728.
43. See ibid., 2:784–86.
44. See Justification and Variegated Nomism: The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism (ed. D. A. Carson, Peter O’Brien, and Mark A. Seifrid; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), vol. 1.
45. For a further development of what is said here, see Thomas R. Schreiner and Ardel B. Caneday, The Race Set before Us: A Biblical Theology of Perseverance and Assurance (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2001); Thomas R. Schreiner, Run to Win the Prize: Perseverance in the New Testament (Wheaton: Crossway; 2010).
46. I am speaking of historical-critical study that adopts the view that contradictions actually exist in the biblical text. I am not opposed to historical-critical study that is employed with what I would call a Christian worldview.
47. Augustine, On Christian Doctrine, 3.9.13 (NPNF1 2:560).
48. See, e.g., Simon Gathercole, Where Is Boasting? Early Jewish Soteriology and Paul’s Response in Romans 1–5 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 263–64; Kyle B. Wells, “Grace, Obedience, and the Hermeneutics of Agency: Paul and His Jewish Contemporaries on the Transformation of the Heart” (PhD diss., Durham University, 2010).
49. Wells, “Grace,” 41.
50. John M. G. Barclay, “Grace and the Transformation of Agency,” in Redefining First-Century Jewish and Christian Identities (eds. Fabian E. Udoh et al.; South Bend, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2008), 384 [372–89].
51. Ibid., 388 n. 38.
52. Craig S. Keener, Romans (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2009), 44–45.
53. Nathan Eubank explains the economic background of this language using BDAG, in “The Wages of Righteousness: The Economy of Heaven in the Gospel According to Matthew” (PhD diss., Duke University, 2012), 74.
54. Most recently, see Douglas A. Campbell, The Deliverance of God: An Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009).
55. See, e.g., Michael J. Gorman, “Douglas Campbell’s The Deliverance of God: A Review by a Friendly Critic,” JSPL 1/1 (2011): 99–107.
56. See, e.g., James D. G. Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 356, 360; Thomas R. Schreiner, The Law and Its Fulfillment (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1993), 99.
57. Particularly helpful, at least for the meaning of the term in Galatians, is Scott W. Hahn, Kinship by Covenant (AYBRL; New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2009), 238–77. Hahn shows that the terminology has Deuteronomic significance.
58. Notably, in his commentary on Galatians, Aquinas argues that “works of the law” can thus be interpreted as referring to the whole law, “because sin is not removed nor anyone justified in the sight of God by them, but by the habit of faith vivified by charity.” Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on Saint Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians (trans. F. R. Larcher, O.P.; Albany: Magi, 1966), 80.