MICHAEL P. BARBER
The charity of Christ is the source in us of all our merits before God. Grace, by uniting us to Christ in active love, ensures the supernatural quality of our acts and consequently their merit before God and before men. The saints have always had a lively awareness that their merits were pure grace.
—Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 2011 1
The above quotation from the Catechism of the Catholic Church (henceforth, “the Catechism”), the official compendium of all of the Church’s teachings, 2 beautifully summarizes the Catholic understanding of salvation and the role of works at the last judgment. 3 I suspect that it may surprise some non-Catholic Christians. It obviously does not cohere with the description of Catholic soteriology many are familiar with, namely, a works-righteousness, legalistic perspective. Indeed, such a charge represents a crass mischaracterization of Catholic teaching. 4
Of course, such distortions can be found on both sides. I know this from personal experience. As a Catholic I chose to study theology at non-Catholic institutions in part to better understand my separated brothers and sisters in Christ. I spent most of my academic career as a student learning from and with Protestants, earning a BA degree in Theology and Philosophy from Azusa Pacific University and a PhD in Theology from Fuller Theological Seminary.
I can honestly say that studying at these institutions, as a Catholic, was an overwhelmingly positive experience. I had the privilege of learning from such godly and eminent scholars as Colin Brown, John Goldingay, and Seyoon Kim. I thank God continually not only for all they taught me, but for their personal witness of faith in Jesus Christ, which had a deep impact on my own life.
I offer this essay as an irenic attempt to engage in dialogue. I hope to show here that the Catholic view of good works at the final judgment seeks to explain the entirety of the biblical witness without minimizing either passages that discuss the priority of God’s grace or texts highlighting the role attributed to good works. While I do not expect all the contributors of this volume to agree with it (I expect hearty disagreement, in fact), I hope to highlight one aspect of the Catholic understanding that often gets overlooked or misrepresented—the unlimited power of God’s grace. As I will show, at its root, the Catholic view of works affirms Jesus’ teaching that “with God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:26), 5 including his ability to render our works meritorious.
To properly understand the function of good works at the final judgment it is necessary to take a step back and look at the larger question of what constitutes “salvation.” Though it is impossible here to offer a detailed look at the various ways the New Testament speaks of salvation, 6 what should be pointed out is that, as a growing number of scholars have noted, salvation in Christ is described as a past, present, and future reality. 7 Salvation is something that believers have already experienced. In Titus we read that Christ “saved us [esōsen]” (Titus 3:5; cf., e.g., also Rom. 8:24). 8 Yet Paul also describes salvation in terms of an ongoing process: “to us who are being saved [s?zomenois]” (1 Cor. 1:18). Similarly, we read in Acts 2:47, “the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved [s?zomenous].” In addition, the New Testament describes salvation as a future reality; believers “will be saved [sōthēsetai]” (John 10:9; Acts 15:11; Rom. 10:13; 1 Cor. 3:15; 1 Tim. 2:15).
We should also recognize that Scripture speaks about salvation in various words and phrases. Salvation is understood in terms of “justification,” “redemption,” “entering the kingdom,” “eternal life,” and so on. As Schreiner and Caneday have ably shown, many of these ideas are also spoken of as both past, present, and future realities. 9 Thus “justification,” a concept with clear soteriological meaning in the New Testament (e.g., Rom. 5:9; 10:10; Titus 3:5–7), can be identified as something that has already occurred in the life of the believer (e.g., 1 Cor. 6:11) as well as taking place in the future (e.g., Matt. 12:36; Rom. 2:12–13).
Thus, it should be clear that, despite the way many Christians speak about it, salvation is not simply a “past event.” Salvation is something that is experienced in the here and now. As Peter explains, baptism “now saves you” (1 Pet. 3:21). Paul explains, “you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified” (1 Cor. 6:11). However salvation also occurs in the future. Thus some Protestant scholars describe salvation in terms of a pilgrimage (Stanley) 10 or a race to be won (Schreiner, Caneday). 11 A Catholic understanding would agree with this essential outlook, though perhaps our view would be better summed up with another image: spiritual maturation, i.e., “growing up.” I will explain this in greater detail below.
For our purposes here, it is especially important to observe that language tied to salvation is linked to God’s judgment and Christ’s second coming.
• “I tell you, on the day of judgment men will render account for every careless word they utter; for by your words you will be justified [dikaiōthēsē], and by your words you will be condemned [katadikasthēsē].” (Matt. 12:36–37)
• “For it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God, but the doers of the law who will be justified [dikaiōthēsontai].” (Rom. 2:13)
• “And just as it is appointed for men to die once, and after that comes judgment, so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save [sōtērian] those who are eagerly waiting for him.” (Heb. 9:27–28).
To understand the role of works at the final judgment, therefore, involves understanding the nature of salvation itself.
Although the New Testament talks about many different aspects of salvation (“justification,” “sanctification,” “redemption,” “forgiveness,” etc.), at its center New Testament soteriology is christological: salvation comes in Christ. 12 The question of what constitutes salvation leads us to Christ himself. We are “justified,” that is, we are declared/made righteous, because Christ is “our righteousness” (1 Cor. 1:30). Because we are united to him, we are righteous. He is the standard of salvation. To be saved is nothing less than to be “conformed to the image of [God’s] Son” (Rom. 8:29).
The christological center of soteriology can easily be overlooked. Salvation is often understood in minimalistic terms. Many portray salvation in terms of what Christ has saved us from, neglecting what he has saved us for. Thus it is not unusual to hear popular descriptions of salvation in Christ as involving little more than “fire insurance”—that is, deliverance from the fires of hell. Yet salvation in the New Testament involves more than merely preservation from the torments of damnation. Ultimately, salvation involves communion with God in Christ.
While there has been much focus on Paul’s discussion of “justification”—and rightly so—perhaps we would do well to spend time carefully reflecting on the way Paul describes his ultimate hope in Philippians: “that I may gain Christ” (Phil. 3:8). Similarly overlooked is 2 Peter’s explanation of the goal of salvation: that we might “become partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet. 1:4). Indeed, Ephesians reminds us that God’s ultimate purpose is “to unite all things in [Christ], things in heaven and things on earth” (Eph. 1:10).
Salvation is nothing less than union with the triune God in Christ. As Jesus explains in the gospel of John, “If a man loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him” (John 14:23). Paul likewise explains, “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal. 2:20).
In Catholic theology, union with the triune God in Christ is the result of God’s grace. Salvation is given to us as a free gift. This is the clear testimony of Scripture: “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” (Eph. 2:8–9; cf. Rom. 11:6; 2 Tim. 1:9; Titus 3:5).
I must reiterate that Catholic teaching joyfully receives this aspect of Scripture’s testimony. The quote from the Catechism that I started this essay with should make it clear that Catholic teaching rejects works-righteousness: “The saints have always had a lively awareness that their merits were pure grace.” The Catechism even cites Thérèse of Lisieux’s view as representative of magisterial Catholic teaching: “I do not want to lay up merits for heaven…. In the evening of this life, I shall appear before you with empty hands” (Catechism no. 2011).
Indeed, this section of the Catechism goes on to draw from the Council of Trent, which insisted on this point:
• “… in adults the beginning of that justification must proceed from the predisposing grace of God through Jesus Christ, that is, from His vocation, whereby, without any merits on their part, they are called.” (Council of Trent, Session 6, ch. 5) 13
• “… we are therefore said to be justified gratuitously, because none of those things that precede justification, whether faith or works, merit the grace of justification. For, if by grace, it is not now by works, otherwise, as the Apostle says, grace is no more grace” [cf. Rom 11:6]. (Council of Trent, Session 6, ch. 8) 14
Some might make the case that the Catechism’s teaching on the importance of grace represents a shift resulting from twentieth-century ecumenical dialogue. However, as these quotes from Trent reveal, such a view would be historically inaccurate. The Catholic teaching has always insisted that we are saved by grace. On this point Catholics and Protestants agree. To cite another passage from the Catechism: “Our justification comes from the grace of God. Grace is favor, the free and undeserved help that God gives us to respond to his call to become children of God, adoptive sons, partakers of the divine nature and of eternal life.” 15
Catholics affirm that salvation is the result of God’s free gift. Yet Catholic teaching also recognizes that there are passages in Scripture that describe good works as a criterion for salvation. In particular, over and over again, Scripture insists that God will judge each person according to his or her works:
• “For the Son of man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay every man for what he has done.” (Matt. 16:27)
• “For he will render to every man according to his works.” (Rom. 2:6)
• “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive good or evil, according to what he has done in the body.” (2 Cor. 5:10)
• “And if you invoke as Father him who judges each one impartially according to his deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile.” (1 Pet. 1:17)
• “I am he who searches mind and heart, and I will give to each of you as your works deserve.” (Rev. 2:23)
• “And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, by what they had done.” (Rev. 20:12)
• “Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense, to repay every one for what he has done.” (Rev. 22:12)
The idea can even be traced into the Old Testament. Psalm 62 declares: “For thou dost requite a man according to his work” (Ps. 62:12; cf. Prov. 24:12). 16
That works will be the essential criterion of judgment on the last day is clearly affirmed in Matthew 25:34–46. 17
Then the King will say to those at his right hand, “Come, O blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.”… Then he will say to those at his left hand, “Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food….” And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.
Those welcomed into the kingdom are those who have performed works of mercy. Those who have not performed such works “go away into eternal punishment.” It is the presence or absence of works that determines one’s future destiny.
Interpreters have tried to find ways around this conclusion. Some have distinguished between salvation and rewards, arguing that such passages refer to benefits other than salvation itself. 18 I shall not add anything more here to what I say in my response to Robert Wilkin’s essay in this volume. 19 Suffice it to say, elsewhere in Matthew the idea of “reward” is synonymous with entering the kingdom of heaven (cf. Matt. 5:46–47 with 5:20). 20 The latter idea undoubtedly points to ultimate salvation. As Dale Allison has demonstrated, Jesus’ teachings in the Gospels regarding entering the “kingdom of God” and “eternal life” are best understood as expressions of Jewish hopes regarding the ultimate state of the righteous. 21 The imagery of reward therefore is best viewed as pertaining to salvation itself.
Others suggest that the deeds of the righteous are only the fruit of faith and, therefore, are not really what determine their salvation (see the essay by Tom Schreiner in this volume). 22 Others go a little further in their conclusions (see the essay by James D. G. Dunn). Nixon writes that the small acts of kindness “have not been remembered as meritorious by the righteous (presumably they are the outcome of a living faith and not the basis of acceptance).” 23 This reading may cohere with Protestant tradition, but it is not derived directly from the text itself.
A more sophisticated approach involves recognizing that those who are saved enter the kingdom not simply because of what they did but for whom they did it: “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me” (Matt. 25:40; cf. 25:45). The case is made that “the least of these my brethren” refers to disciples, who elsewhere in Matthew are identified as Jesus’ brothers and sisters (12:46–50; 28:10). 24 Moreover, in Matthew 10, the way people treat the disciples will be a sign of their reception or rejection of the gospel (10:11–14) and ultimately seal their fate “on the day of judgment” (10:15). Thus in the scene described in Matthew 25:31–46, the works of mercy performed are ultimately an expression of how the righteous embrace the gospel. 25
This reading is compelling. It beautifully ties together different threads of the gospel. Nonetheless, just because the works of mercy performed by the righteous are likely the result of their embrace of the gospel, to conclude that such actions are therefore not a criterion for salvation at the final judgment would be to go beyond the text. Such a view is untenable given one especially important consideration: if Jesus wanted to say that the actual works of mercy shown to his disciples were truly in and of themselves a criterion for entering the kingdom, it is hard to see how the passage would look much different.
In fact, that performing good deeds will be a criterion of salvation is suggested elsewhere in Matthew. For example, it is the basic assumption behind the question posed to Jesus in Matthew 19: “Teacher, what good deed must I do, to have eternal life?” (Matt. 19:16; cf. Mark 10:17). Notably, Jesus does not reprove the man for his apparent “works-righteousness” attitude. Instead, after referring him to the commandments, Jesus explains, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me” (Matt. 19:21).
Again, some have tried to solve the apparent difficulty here by making the suggestion that Jesus was simply giving the standard Jewish answer to the question posed to him. In this view, Jesus’ teaching is directed to Jews, not to Christians. 26 This, however, ignores the thrust of the passage. In the Great Commission, Jesus tells the disciples to teach all nations that they must observe “all that I have commanded you,” without any hint of a distinction between Jews and Christians (Matt. 28:19–20).
Another explanation holds that Jesus was not talking specifically about salvation to the young man in Matthew 19, but about something extraneous to it (e.g., rewards). Yet that salvation is in view in this passage and not simply other kinds of blessings is made abundantly clear from the context. After the man declines the offer, Jesus explains it is “hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven” (19:23–24). Moreover, that Jesus is talking about salvation is clear from the disciples’ response to his teaching: “Who then can be saved [sōthēnai]?” (19:25). Moreover, the story ends with Jesus talking about “inheriting eternal life” (19:29). 27
Finally, it is worth noting Jesus’ response to the disciples’ complaint about his teaching: “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:26). Here we have two critically important ideas. First, believers must do the impossible to be saved: we must be perfect. Jesus holds believers to this same standard in the Sermon on the Mount: “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48). Note here that the perfection Jesus points to is not just human perfection but divine perfection (“as your heavenly Father is perfect”). This, obviously, is an unattainable goal for human beings. Second, God makes it possible for us to attain what Jesus is calling us to achieve. With him, somehow, we can do the impossible.
Above we alluded to passages that describe salvation in terms of a “reward.” The language here is only fully comprehensible when it is understood against the backdrop of the Jewish worldview out of which Christianity emerged. As Gary Anderson has shown, in ancient Judaism sins and good deeds were closely tied to economic terminology. 28 In an important dissertation recently completed at Duke University, Nathan Eubank applies this work to the gospel of Matthew. 29
As scholars have long recognized, the idea that sin constituted a “debt” pervades Jewish literature. 30 The most famous passage in the New Testament reflecting this understanding is found in the Lord’s Prayer: “And forgive [aphes] us our debts [ta opheilēmata hēmōn] as we also have forgiven [aphēk amen] our debtors [tois opheiletais hēmōn]” (Matt. 6:12). As is universally acknowledged, sins are here described in terms of “debts.” The same idea is found in other places in the New Testament, for example, the parable of the unforgiving servant, where the handling of “debt” is clearly related to the concept of sin (cf. 18:23–35).
This kind of commercial terminology permeates the New Testament. Jesus, for instance, explains that his death provides the ransom needed for salvation, i.e., the cost of redemption (Matt. 20:28//Mark 10:45). Paul describes the way every sin has its price: “the wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6:23). In Colossians, Christ has saved us by canceling the debt of our indebtedness by his death on the cross (Col. 2:14).
This kind of language only makes sense in a Jewish context. As Anderson writes, “In contemporary Greek the words ‘remit’ [aphi?m i] and ‘debt’ [opheil?ma] did not have the secondary meaning of ‘forgive’ and ‘sin.’ Matthew’s version of the Our Father makes sense only if we assume that the wording reflects an underlying Semitic idiom.” 31 Indeed, looking at ancient Jewish texts, we do in fact find sin described along these lines. In the Dead Sea Scrolls, for example, we see the covenant infidelity of Israel described along these lines: “[all] the first members of the covenant fell into debt [hābû]; they were given over to the sword. They had forsaken the covenant of God and chose their own will” (CD 3:10). 32
Given that sins were understood in terms of debts, it is not surprising to find a corollary: good deeds were viewed as a “reimbursement.” One of the earliest texts suggesting this perspective is Proverbs 19:17: “He who is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed.” Here it is understood that performing good deeds will lead to divine repayment.
The books of Tobit and Sirach reveal that by the first century such ideas were more fully developed. In these books the “credit” earned by good deeds is represented by the image of a heavenly treasury of sorts.
… if you do what is true, your ways will prosper through your deeds. Give alms from your possessions to all who live uprightly, and do not let your eye begrudge the gift when you make it. Do not turn your face away from any poor man, and the face of God will not be turned away from you. If you have many possessions, make your gift from them in proportion; if few, do not be afraid to give according to the little you have. So you will be laying up a good treasure for yourself against the day of necessity. For charity delivers from death and keeps you from entering the darkness; and for all who practice it charity is an excellent offering in the presence of the Most High. (Tob. 4:6–11)
Help a poor man for the commandment’s sake, and because of his need do not send him away empty. Lose your silver for the sake of a brother or a friend, and do not let it rust under a stone and be lost. Lay up your treasure according to the commandments of the Most High, and it will profit you more than gold. Store up almsgiving in your treasury, and it will rescue you from all affliction; more than a mighty shield and more than a heavy spear, it will fight on your behalf against your enemy. (Sir. 29:9–13).
Moreover, Sirach tells us that it is not only almsgiving that builds up credit in one’s treasury but other good deeds as well.
Whoever honors his father atones for sins, and whoever glorifies his mother is like one who lays up treasure…. For kindness to a father will not be forgotten, and against your sins it will be credited to you; in the day of your affliction it will be remembered in your favor; as frost in fair weather, your sins will melt away. (Sir 3:3–4, 14–15)
By the first century, the idea that good deeds earn “credit” was clearly linked to entry into life with God after death—that is, salvation from ultimate death. The prize to be won is viewed ultimately not as earthly life but supernatural life. In Wisdom 2:22 those who have died experience a blessed afterlife described as the “wages of holiness.” Similarly, Psalms of Solomon 9:5 explains, “The one who does righteousness treasures up life for himself with the Lord.”
Not surprisingly, then, the final judgment is often described in Jewish sources with imagery reminiscent of the marketplace: scales. Such works describe how one’s good and evil deeds are weighed against each other. Salvation depends on which weighs more heavily: one’s good deeds or bad deeds. 33
I realize, of course, that many non-Catholic Christians do not embrace Tobit and Sirach as canonical. However, it seems hard to deny that Jesus teaches a similar idea in the Gospels. As in the texts cited above, almsgiving is often identified as an act that fills a heavenly treasury. For example, returning again to the story we looked at above from Matthew 19, Jesus tells the rich young man: “… sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven” (Matt. 19:21). In Luke, Jesus advises: “Sell your possessions, and give alms; provide yourselves with purses that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys” (Luke 12:33).
Closely associated with all of this is another concept in the Gospels we have already mentioned: the understanding of salvation as a “reward.” In his masterful study of economic imagery in Matthew, Eubank shows how standard English translations mask the commercial language used over and over again by Jesus. English Bibles since the King James Version generally render the Greek words misthos and the verb apodidōmi as “reward.” Yet in today’s usage “reward” implies that the “recompense” God gives unrelated to an employer/employee or to a creditor/debtor relationship. This is misleading. 34
A careful look at Matthew’s gospel reveals that this is precisely the terminology intended. Indeed, misthos, almost always translated as “reward,” clearly carries the meaning of “wage.” The present dichotomy of “wage”/“reward” is only the result of the particular way the English language has developed. At the time the KJV was translated, the English word “reward” was used synonymously with “wage,” that is, the financial remuneration of a laborer. 35 In fact, in the parable of the workers in Matthew 20 it is precisely this word, misthos, that occurs in verse 8: the laborers are given their “wages.” Let us here pause to look at this story.
In the parable of the workers the owner of a vineyard hires workers at different points during a day. At the end of it, he says, “Call the laborers and pay them their wages [misthos]” (Matt. 20:8). Those who had worked from the beginning of the day become angry when the owner gives those who started working at the eleventh hour the same wage they received. The owner defends himself, saying, “Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?” (20:15). Much could be said here about this parable, but let us highlight two things. First, the parable is clearly about “the kingdom of heaven” (20:1). Given the usage of the concept in Matthew, it seems difficult to deny that here we have a teaching that relates to salvation.
Second, given the first point, the parable teaches that salvation is given as a “wage.” Some have tried to obscure this fact by focusing on the owner’s unexpected decision to give those who were hired at the end of the day the same wage as those who had started in the morning. Highlighting this, France claims the story reveals, “It is all by grace.” 36 Stanley follows the same line of thought, “We are at the grace and mercy of a generous landowner to come and call us to his vineyard.” 37 I agree that salvation is, as the Catechism affirms, “pure grace” (no. 2011 cited above), but is the aim of this story to minimize the role of works—or is it something else? As Eubank states, “The point of the parable can hardly be that ‘everything depends upon grace’ since the early workers received exactly what they worked for, though Matthew 20:11–15 certainly warns those who have done more work against begrudging God’s generosity with those who have done less.” 38 Indeed, all were paid for doing some work; none were paid for not working at all. If the story were meant to teach that salvation is given only as a gift with no relation to works, one would expect the vineyard owner to walk into town handing out money to everyone he met, without any negotiations or further expectations.
In fact, Eubank points out that the story is best read in light of what immediately precedes it: the story of the rich young man, who, unlike the disciples, refuses to leave all his possessions and follow Jesus (Matt. 19:16–30). 39 The story, then, likely functions as an extended answer to the disciples’ question: “Who then can be saved?” (19:25). While this man has kept the commandments, Jesus suggests that technically the man has not done enough to be perfect. The apostles, who have left everything, have done much more. Nonetheless, by placing the parable of the workers immediately after this story, Matthew provides us with hope for the man: God is a merciful judge.
Indeed, this idea has its parallels in Jewish literature describing divine judgment. 40 In sum, Jesus teaches salvation is not simply the result of a cold calculation of credits and debits. Wages are paid out in connection with labor, but not in strict proportion to labor. The parable thus teaches the necessity of works alongside the generosity of God in paying out more than was earned.
A similar idea is found in the parable of the talents in Matthew 25:14–30. There, once again, we find divine judgment described in terms of financial imagery. This time we hear about a master who returns from a trip to collect money he has entrusted to his servants. Notably, the different servants who invested wisely each end up with a different amount (the first has eleven talents and the second only four). In fact, in Luke’s version, this prompts a protest from the servants (cf. Luke 19:25). Suffice it to say, the parable does not support the idea that in the end all receive the same recompense. In addition, it is noteworthy that God rewards his servants with abundance. As Eubank remarks, Matthew insists that “heavenly wages go beyond what workers earn by strict dessert, but it is equally clear that this generosity is a generous wage for work done rather than an unmerited gift.” 41
It is this kind of economic imagery that is obviously in play in Matthew 16:27: “For the Son of man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay [apodid?mi] every man for what he has done.” It is likewise no wonder that Jesus describes the final judgment in terms of the “settling of accounts” (cf. 18:23). Moreover, the sheer volume of passages describing salvation as a wage/reward (misthos) in Matthew is alone overwhelming. To name but a few:
• “But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven … For if you love those who love you, what reward [misthos] have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same?” (Matt. 5:44–46)
• “Beware of practicing your piety before men in order to be seen by them; for then you will have no reward [misthos] from your Father who is in heaven. Thus, when you give alms, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by men. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward [misthos]. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward [apodid?mi] you.”(Matt. 6:1–4)
• “And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by men. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward [misthos]. But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward [apodid?mi] you.” (Matt. 6:5–6; cf. 10:41–42)
Put simply, to argue that Scripture teaches that salvation is the result of “faith” alone and that works themselves are not rewarded with salvation flies in the face of Jesus’ teaching. One can only come to this conclusion through a tortured reading that obscures these texts’ plain sense by imposing on them preconceived theological ideas.
So far we have failed to discuss the text that perhaps most clearly links salvation with works: James 2. Here, of course, we find the only place in Scripture where “justification” and the phrase “faith alone” appear together: “You see that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone” (Jas. 2:24). While some have argued that James’s view is simply that works only justify an individual before other humans—that is, from the standpoint of an outside observer 42—this fails to account for what is explicitly stated. James, via what are obviously rhetorical questions, insists that works in fact justified Abraham and Rahab. “Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he offered his son Isaac upon the altar? … And in the same way was not also Rahab the harlot justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out another way?” (2:21, 25). Nowhere does James imply their justification by works involved merely outward appearances. Nor does he suggest that it is really the faith that accompanies the good works that actually justifies. Rather, works do justify the believer. 43
So are we saved by grace alone or by something else? Protestants would affirm that we are saved by grace alone. Of course, what this really means for most Protestant Christians is that we are saved by grace through faith alone.
For many Protestants, the act of faith is not itself a “work.” This preserves the concept of grace; salvation is accomplished without any works. Yet even Protestants must affirm that to receive salvation one must still do something—one must believe. The insistence that salvation is the result of grace does not entail a rejection of the need for a human response. Strictly speaking, someone could argue that because salvation is said to be the result of divine gratuity, this means that a person needs to do nothing at all to be saved.
A more nuanced understanding, of course, would recognize that here we are insisting on a false dichotomy between grace and the believer’s response to it. Scripture teaches that the human response itself is the result of grace. Paul declares: “No one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:3). Similarly, Jesus responds to Peter’s confession of faith by insisting: “Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 16:17). Along the same lines, in the gospel of John Jesus teaches: “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent” (John 6:29). Thus, with our separated brothers and sisters, Catholics affirm that we are saved by grace through faith and that this faith is the result of God’s work within the believer: To quote the Catechism: “Faith is a gift of God, a supernatural virtue infused by him.” 44
Nonetheless, though faith is understood as the result of God’s action, it is still an act performed by the believer. It is not as if believers are coerced into faith. Rather, God’s grace moves them to freely assent; they are truly the ones who believe, though with divine assistance.
Above we discussed the danger of establishing a false dichotomy between grace and faith. Catholics would insist that we must also be careful about doing the same with regard to good works. Here we can point once more to Paul who told the Philippians, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for God is at work in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Phil. 2:12–13). If faith is the result of God’s action within us, the same is true of works.
It is important to recall that salvation involves more than just deliverance from sin. Salvation involves being fully incorporated into Christ, so that, with Paul, the believer can truly say, “it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives within me” (Gal. 2:20). Paul therefore can tell the Philippians to “work out your own salvation” because ultimately the good works they do are truly the product of God working within them. This means no one can boast of his or her own salvation (Eph. 2:8–9); it is only through grace that one can do such good works.
Nevertheless, we are also saved for accomplishing good works (Eph. 2:10). No one can claim to do meritorious good works on his or her own power. As Jesus says, “apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5)—that is, nothing that avails for salvation. Yet because of union with Christ, Paul can speak of “the power at work within us” that “is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think” (Eph. 3:20).
Traditional Protestant theology would agree that Christ’s power within us is capable of doing far more than we could ever ask or think, with, apparently, one exception: it is not capable of empowering the believer to perform meritorious works. In the Catholic view, however, all things are possible with God, including the performance of meritorious works. From a Catholic point of view, works themselves can be considered through the lens of Jesus’ statement, “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:26). As we saw in our analysis of Matthew 19 above, this was exactly the point underscored by the context of this verse—human beings must do something to be saved, but what they must do is impossible. Nonetheless, Jesus affirms that God will enable believers to do the impossible, namely, works by which believers can have eternal life.
Put another way, salvation is first by God’s grace and not by works. One receives Christ not because one has performed any good works. However, once one has become united to Christ, one is capable of doing what was previously impossible. In Catholic teaching, works performed by those in union with Christ have meritorious value. 45 They cannot not have meritorious value. Why? Because they are the result of Christ’s work. The believer says, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives within me” (Gal. 2:20).
The good works of the believer are the good works accomplished by Christ in him or her. To insist that the believer’s works lack meritorious value is to claim that Christ’s work lacks meritorious value. To say that believers can perform meritorious works is therefore not to detract from Christ’s redemptive work; rather, it is the denial that believers can do meritorious works through Christ that detracts from his power and glory. If the Catholic view is wrong, it is ultimately so because it gives God too much credit. If the Catholic understanding is mistaken, it is because we believe God is able to do more in believers by grace than Protestants believe.
Of course, I do not think the Catholic view has erred in attributing too much to the grace of Christ. In fact, Paul explains that salvation involves nothing less than being “conformed to the image of [God’s] Son” (Rom. 8:29). Christ fully shares his sonship with us so that we are truly “sons in the Son.” Catholics take Jesus at his word when he says, “All that the Father has is mine; therefore I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you” (John 16:15). Thus, since Christ has the capacity to merit, he merits for believers the capacity to merit with him. In other words, if salvation is truly Christocentric—if it involves being conformed to the image of Christ—it necessarily involves our ability to merit in him. Good works are not simply the fruit of salvation; they are part and parcel of it. Without them we are not fully “like Christ.”
Thus Paul explains, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church” (Col. 1:24). This is an astonishing passage. As Thomas Aquinas explains, it could be misinterpreted as teaching “that the passion of Christ was not sufficient for our redemption, and that the sufferings of the saints were added to complete it.” Yet, citing 1 John 2:2, Thomas firmly rejects such a reading: “But this is heretical, because the blood of Christ is sufficient to redeem many worlds.” How do we interpret this then? Thomas states:
Rather, we should understand that Christ and the Church are one mystical person, whose head is Christ, and whose body is all the just, for every just person is a member of this head: “individually members” (1 Cor. 12:27)…. We could say that Paul was completing the sufferings that were lacking in his own flesh. For what was lacking was that, just as Christ had suffered in his own body, so he should also suffer in Paul, his member, and in similar ways in others. 46
Paul’s suffering completes what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions only in the sense that Christ’s redemptive work now must be lived out in his mystical body.
Moreover, we should point out the ecclesial nature of all of this. Salvation is not simply communion with Christ but also communion with all believers. Thus, “if one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together” (1 Cor. 12:26). Paul’s suffering redounds to the benefit of the entire mystical body—he makes up what is lacking not only for himself but, through his union with Christ, what is lacking in the body itself. 47
So how can we affirm both that salvation is by God’s grace and not by works and that salvation involves Christ imparting to believers the capacity to merit? Isn’t this contradictory? Not if salvation is more than a moment in time. One must keep in mind that salvation involves a process, including past, present, and future dimensions.
The initial moment of saving grace is, of course, identified with baptism in Catholic teaching. As Peter explains, it is “baptism” that “now saves you” (1 Pet. 3:21). 48 This is rebirth, “the washing of regeneration” (Titus 3:5). As Paul says, “you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified” (1 Cor. 6:11). We are united with Christ and therefore saved (cf. Rom. 6:3–4; Gal. 3:27; Col. 2:12). By baptism, we are made members of the body of Christ (cf. 1 Cor. 12:13).
It should be emphasized that in Catholic theology baptism is not understood as a work accomplished by human beings, but rather as the work of God. For Catholics, the fact that one receives baptism and does not administer baptism to oneself illustrates in a visible way that no one can save themselves by their own actions performed independently of God or the believing community of the Church. 49 For Catholics, infant baptism highlights in an especially profound way the gratuitousness of salvation: “Since the earliest times, Baptism has been administered to children, for it is a grace and a gift of God that does not presuppose any human merit” (Catechism, no. 1282; italics added). 50
For Catholics, baptism is truly a saving event. The baptized is united with Christ. One is “reborn” and made a “son” in the Son. One is saved by God’s grace and not by works. Yet salvation is more than just a discreet moment in time. It involves being conformed to the image of Christ. To put it simply, the sons must “grow up.” They are justified by grace alone, but for the purpose of performing good works (cf. Eph. 2:8–10). Saved initially by grace, through uniting himself with Christ, a person is further saved by faith, and, moreover, “justified by works and not by faith alone” (Jas. 2:24).
The Catholic understanding of works at the final judgment preserves the entirety of the biblical witness regarding salvation. Salvation is a moment and a process of maturing in sonship. Initially we are saved by grace and not by anything we do. However, God’s grace in the believer allows him or her to do the impossible: perform works meritorious of salvation. And it is by these works that the believer is truly saved—he or she is fully conformed to the image of the Son of God. All that the Son has been given by the Father he shares with those united to him by grace (John 16:15)—including his capacity to merit.
Strikingly, even John Calvin allowed for the idea that good works could be understood as a means of salvation:
… the efficient cause of our salvation is placed in the love of God the Father; the material cause in the obedience of the Son; the instrumental cause in the illumination of the Spirit, that is, in faith; and the final cause in the praise of the divine goodness. In this, however, there is nothing to prevent the Lord from embracing works as inferior causes. But how so? In this way: Those whom in mercy he has destined for the inheritance of eternal life, he, in his ordinary administration, introduces to the possession of it by means of good works…. For this reason, he sometimes makes eternal life a consequent of works; not because it is to be ascribed to them, but because those whom he has elected he justifies, that he may at length glorify (Rom. 8:30); he makes the prior grace to be a kind of cause, because it is a kind of step to that which follows. 51
Given the plethora of passages describing the role of good works in salvation, it is not surprising that Calvin would make such a statement. 52
Nonetheless, it would certainly be wrong to conclude that Calvin agreed with the Catholic Church. Indeed, many will point out that the Church’s teaching, while perhaps tolerable, remains in practice dangerous since it is too easily misunderstood. Many Catholics, some might observe, appear to neglect the teaching of grace. To this claim I would simply point out that no view of salvation is immune from being misinterpreted and misunderstood.
In closing, Catholic doctrine affirms the importance of works without hedging on the priority and unlimited power of grace. Grace is so effective it is even able to render weak and sinful humans capable of performing meritorious works. Protestants may disagree with the Catholic understanding, but let it not be said that this is because Catholics have a low estimation of grace. To say the Catholic view is incorrect is to say Catholics attribute too much to grace!
According to Catholic teaching, then, salvation is, ultimately, “pure grace.” At the final judgment, good works play a role in our salvation, but only because they are the result of God’s work within us. The Catholic view is expressed well by Augustine. Speaking of the final judgment, he writes, “Then God will crown not so much thy merits, as his own gifts.”53 Or to put it in the words cited from the Catechism above: “The charity of Christ is the source in us of all our merits before God. The saints have always had a lively awareness that their merits were pure grace” (Catechism, no. 2011).
“Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, for ever and ever. Amen” (Eph. 3:20–21).
ROBERT N. WILKIN
Michael Barber has done a fine job explaining some of the nuances of Catholic soteriology. His thesis is summarized by his opening (and closing) quote from the Catechism of the Catholic Church (abbrev. Catechism):
The charity of Christ is the source in us of all our merits before God. Grace, by uniting us to Christ in active love, ensures the supernatural quality of our acts and consequently their merit before God and before men. The saints have always had a lively awareness that their merits were pure grace. (pp. 161, 184, italics his)
Evidently, Barber believes the invocation of pure grace at the end of the statement rescues the Catholic position from accusations of teaching salvation by works. He writes:
I suspect that it [the statement cited ending in pure grace] may surprise some non-Catholic Christians. It obviously does not cohere with the description of Catholic soteriology many are familiar with, namely, a works-righteousness, legalistic perspective. Indeed, such a charge represents a crass mischaracterization of Catholic teaching. (p. 162)
I fail to see why the statement cited obviously denies works-righteousness and a legalistic perspective. After all, it has long been understood that for Catholics grace was something (perhaps an infused quality) given to believers to empower them to do the works necessary to be finally saved. Apart from such empowerment, the works would be impossible. But even with the empowerment, works are not automatic. Believers must work hard their entire lives if they wish to stay saved and finally merit final salvation.
The official Catholic position is more nuanced than a simple determination of whether one’s good works in some sense outweigh one’s bad works. (Barber does not say how God will evaluate our flawed works to determine our destiny.) Nevertheless, I would suggest that, in spite of his denials, Barber’s position is clearly one of works-righteousness.
After all, what reason would Barber give to explain why some people will be damned? Presumably he would not say the reason was the insufficiency of God’s grace. The fault cannot lie there because God’s grace can do the impossible. Rather, Barber would say the problem was with the persons themselves, namely, that their works were culpably insufficient. Perhaps they didn’t cooperate with God’s grace enough or didn’t take advantage of the means of grace available to them.
Whatever the case, if someone dies outside of “God’s grace and friendship” (Catechism 1030); if he dies having sinned gravely against God, his neighbor, and himself and has not met the needs of the “poor and the little ones” (Catechism 1033); if he has willfully turned away from God and has persisted in his sin “until the end” (Catechism 1037), that person will be damned because of what he did and because of what he failed to do. In other words, for all Barber’s talk of grace, at the end of the day he would say that salvation finally depends upon our own efforts. Those efforts may not technically be meritorious or effective apart from God’s grace, but they are necessary—and without them no one can be saved. That is the essence of legalism and salvation by works.
Eternal salvation attained by God-empowered works is a far cry from what we find in the New Testament. It clearly teaches that everlasting life is given to sinners as a gift when they simply believe in Jesus for that gift. This is what Jesus taught (e.g., John 3:16; 5:24; 6:28–29, 35, 37; 11:25–27) and what His apostles taught (e.g., Acts 15:7–11; 16:30–31; Eph. 2:8–9; Titus 3:5; Jas. 1:18; 1 John 5:9–13). The quality of our fellowship with God in this life and the eternal rewards and position of authority we will have in the life to come do depend on living a life of faithful obedience to Christ. But the conditions for eternal salvation and eternal rewards are entirely different.
I cannot emphasize enough the importance of studying John on the topic of eternal salvation and judgment. Other than an out-of-context quotation of John 6:29 (p. 179), Barber does not discuss the Lord’s teaching on regeneration in the Fourth Gospel. 54 Since John’s gospel is the only evangelistic book in the Bible (John 20:30–31), Barber’s failure to deal with that gospel is startling.
In John 5:24 the Lord said that believers “shall not come into judgment.” Is that reference not an essential one to discuss in a book dealing with final judgment? That verse needs explanation, as do all of the verses that condition everlasting life on faith in Christ, not on works.
Moreover, John 6:29, a verse Barber cites to support his position, actually teaches against it, if considered in context. In the preceding verse, Jesus’ audience asks, “What shall we do, that we may work the works of God?” Notice the plural “works.” Like Barber, the crowd assumes that eternal destiny depends on one’s works. It is significant, I think, that in his answer, Jesus speaks not of works (plural) but of a single work. And what is that one work we must do? “This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He sent.” Jesus is drawing a contrast here. Believing in Him is the only “act” that one can do to obtain everlasting life. Of course, faith is a passive action. We are presented with Jesus’ message of everlasting life, and we either believe Him or not. Hence, everlasting life is not of works (John 6:28; Eph 2:9), but it is of faith.
Barber states, “Paul explains that salvation involves nothing less than being ‘conformed to the image of [God’s] Son’ (Rom. 8:29)” (p. 165). A few pages later he says, “Salvation is more than just a discreet moment in time. It involves being conformed to the image of Christ…. Salvation is a moment [sic] and a process of maturing in sonship…. It is by these works that the believer is truly saved—he or she is fully conformed to the image of the Son of God” (p. 183, emphasis added).
There is some truth in what Barber says. God does guarantee that all who are born again by faith in Christ will be conformed to His image, when He returns (cf. Rom. 8:29; Phil. 3:21; 1 John 3:2). When we are raised and glorified, then and only then will we be conformed to His image. Until that time, whatever Christlikeness we now experience still falls short of His glory (Rom. 3:23; Phil. 3:12; 1 John 1:8, 10). We are still in fallen bodies that sin, suffer, and die and that lack the fullness of everlasting life. But despite our expectation of one day being fully Christlike, there is no process whereby we somehow merit eschatological salvation.
It is unnerving how Barber makes conformity to Christ’s image a condition for our eschatological salvation, as if it could be achieved by our own (God-empowered) works. How is it that any living human being can be said to be fully conformed to the image of Christ in this life? Only the Lord Jesus is sinless. If one must, over time, be conformed to Christ’s sinless image in this life in order to escape eternal condemnation, then no one will escape.
Given that understanding of eschatological salvation, no person could have assurance of eternal destiny. They will never know prior to death if they will spend eternity with the Lord. Indeed, under such teaching they should be sure that they will be eternally condemned. The situation is hopeless. But assurance of everlasting life is something that every believer does know as long as he or she continues to believe God’s testimony (John 5:24; 1 John 5:13).
Barber (like Dunn and Schreiner) uncritically cites verses using the words save and salvation as though they automatically refer to regeneration or to spending eternity in Christ’s kingdom. I commend Barber for at least considering “the larger question of what constitutes ‘salvation’ “(p. 163). But his answer does not show the range of uses of sōzō and sōtēria in the New Testament. Not all references to these terms speak about salvation from hell. Most actually refer to salvation from some temporal trouble or affliction. For example, he cites 1 Timothy 2:15 (without any discussion), where Paul says, “she will be saved in childbearing,” as an example of future salvation from eternal condemnation (p. 163). Yet the context does not support that interpretation. The context refers to women not being able to teach in the meeting of the local church (1 Tim. 2:12–14). How will a woman be saved from such a potentially frustrating situation? “She [singular] will be delivered [or saved] through childbirth if they [plural, that is, her children] continue in faith, love, and holiness, with self-control” (1 Tim. 2:15).
In the same way Barber cites (but without any discussion) Romans 10:13 as teaching future salvation from eternal condemnation. Yet that verse clearly refers to deliverance from temporal wrath in this life, as verse 14 says: “Therefore how shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed?” Believing must precede calling, just as hearing must precede believing in the next question of verse 14. Thus the ones being saved in Romans 10:13 are believers, not unbelievers. They have already been united to Christ, so that is not Paul’s concern. Verse 13 is a quote of Joel 2:32, which refers to the temporal deliverance of Jewish believers in the tribulation when they will cry out to Messiah. Romans 10:13–14 is not concerned with salvation from the lake of fire. It is concerned with deliverance from God’s wrath in the here and now (cf. Rom. 1:18–32; 13:4–5).
Likewise, while Barber discusses Philippians 2:12 and the expression “work out your own salvation” (p. 179), he fails to consider the context. In three pages he fails to discuss the use of sōtēria in Philippians or even anything in the context. The words “your own salvation” are in contrast to an earlier statement in the letter: “For I know that this will turn out for salvation [eis sōtērian] for me through your prayer and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:19). What was Paul’s salvation (“salvation for me”)? It was not salvation from hell or union with Christ. That salvation was already accomplished by faith in Christ, apart from works. Rather, Paul knew that their prayers and the power of the Holy Spirit would result in his successfully enduring the persecution he was undergoing during his Roman imprisonment.
In other words, “your own salvation” is compared to Paul’s salvation and refers to the believers in Philippi successfully enduring their persecution at the hands of unbelievers. The reason why Paul refers to “fear and trembling” is because he is reminded of the Judgment Seat of Christ, where, though eternally secure, believers will nevertheless be held accountable for their works and will be rewarded accordingly, hopefully experiencing confidence before the Lord and not shame (cf. Luke 19:16–26; 1 Cor. 9:24–27; 2 Cor. 5:9–11; 1 John 2:28). Philippians 2:12, like many of the other verses Barber cites in defense of his position, has nothing to do with salvation from eternal condemnation.
In summary, pure grace is not being empowered by God to save ourselves by perseverance in faithful works. Rather, pure grace is being given the free gift of everlasting life and eternal security, without ever again having to fear coming under God’s eternal judgment, simply by believing in Jesus’ promise (John 3:16; 5:24).
THOMAS R. SCHREINER
Michael Barber helps us avoid some common misunderstandings of Catholic theology, and at the same time we see points of contact established between Protestant and Catholic theology. For instance, Barber reminds us that Catholic theology teaches that the good works of believers are due to God’s grace. Catholic theology should not be confused with Pelagianism. In popular circles Protestants too often wrongly believe that Catholic theology is entirely bereft of grace. We also find common ground in the already/not yet dimensions of salvation. Whether we speak of justification, redemption, the kingdom, or eternal life, there is an already but not yet dimension to God’s saving work in our lives. Furthermore, Barber’s essay is Christ-centered. He affirms that Christ is our righteousness and emphasizes that the goal of our salvation is communion with God in Christ.
Barber apparently thinks he differs from me in maintaining that “good works” are “a criterion for salvation” (p. 166), saying works are “the essential criterion of judgment on the last day” (p. 167). 55 Barber says I don’t believe works are a criterion since I say they are a fruit of faith. We have to be careful that we don’t talk past one another at this point, for I am happy to say works are a criterion of salvation at the final judgment if what we mean is defined carefully. I would argue that they are an essential criterion in terms of evidence or fruit, but it is incorrect to say, against Barber, that they provide merit or are a basis of our salvation in any way. In other words, when I use the word “evidence” or “fruit” in relation to works, I am not saying that works are unnecessary. They are an essential fruit or evidence. If the works aren’t present, the person will be damned! That’s a criterion!
What I object to, however, is the notion that the works are meritorious. In other words, Barber’s claim that works bring merit at the final judgment doesn’t square with the biblical evidence. Barber attempts to show that merit fits with a right understanding of Scripture since the Scriptures speak of wages, repayment, and reward in texts that speak of a final recompense. It is certainly the case that repayment imagery is used in some texts that refer to the final reward given to believers (cf. Rom. 2:6–10). Barber also points to the parable of the workers in the vineyard where the laborers are given wages, and the wages relate to salvation (Matt. 20:1–16). He sees a similar connection where the final reward is explicated in terms of recompense in the parable of the talents (25:14–30).
In other words, Barber rightly shows that the language of recompense and reward is used in the Scriptures, and occasionally financial imagery is appealed to (“wages”). The question, however, is whether the language and imagery denotes merit. Certainly believers are rewarded or paid, but what do the biblical authors mean by such expressions? To say that the final judgment is described in terms of reward or wages doesn’t necessarily lead to the conclusion that the reward is merited. Such a notion can’t be read out of the parable of the laborers in the vineyard, for granting some the wages of eternal life for one hour of work is not merit but grace! Citing parables to defend a theology of merit is precarious in any case, unless such a teaching is clearly one of the main points of the story. We must beware of pressing details of the story in parables.
The fundamental problem with Barber’s essay surfaces with the word and connotation of the term merit, which hails from the Latin word meri-tum. Why is it that works don’t merit a final reward? Well, God demands perfection (Matt. 5:48), and works would only merit a reward if they were done perfectly. But even as Christians we all sin in many ways (Jas. 3:2). The continuing presence of sin in believers is evident, for Jesus taught us to pray regularly for the forgiveness of sins (Matt. 6:12). Clearly, Jesus taught this prayer to his disciples because they needed to pray for forgiveness until death. Perfection is never ours in this life (Phil. 3:12–16). Indeed, the injunction to ask for forgiveness of our sins (cf. 1 John 1:9 as well) was one of the fundamental arguments Augustine used in his polemic against Pelagius, showing that believers always stand in need of grace.
I don’t see how works can be meritorious when the standard is perfection and when it is evident that Christians don’t meet the standard. Barber says after believers are united with Christ they can do the impossible so that works “have meritorious value” (p. 180). But how can that be so if believers continue to sin after their conversion? Barber’s solution affirms that works are meritorious because of God’s miraculous grace, even though they are not strictly meritorious. At that point, the word merit seems to be deprived of its typical meaning. What does it really mean for works that are not strictly meritorious to be counted as meritorious? More fundamentally, where does the Bible articulate such a notion? I don’t see how saying that God makes the impossible possible really solves the problem, for how does God make what is not meritorious to be meritorious?
Barber derives the notion that God miraculously makes works meritorious from the story of the rich ruler (Matt. 19:16–30). I would suggest that the following terms describe the same reality in the account: “eternal life” (19:16), “perfect” (19:21), “treasure in heaven” (19:21), entering the kingdom of heaven (19:23), and being saved (19:25). The impossible thing God does is to transform someone’s heart so that he or she becomes a disciple of Jesus instead of clinging to riches. I don’t see any evidence here that the impossible thing God does is make our works meritorious. The rich ruler allegedly kept all the commands of the Decalogue, but it counted for nothing if he didn’t become a disciple of Jesus. Jesus makes it clear that the issue at stake is salvation (19:25). The story doesn’t teach that our inadequate works can somehow be counted as merit. It teaches that salvation is a miraculous work of God.
It is possible that the disagreement between Barber and myself is ultimately semantic. For Protestants and Catholics both believe works are necessary for eternal life. 56 Catholics affirm that God crowns our merits, so that in his grace he counts our works as merits even though they fall short of God’s perfect standard. 57 Is that really so different from saying that God rewards us with eternal life, even though our works after conversion are imperfect?
At one level, we could say that Protestants and Catholics aren’t far apart, for both believe rewards stem from God’s grace. We have seen that there is certainly common ground between Catholics and Protestants, for we both affirm the grace of God. Still, the devil is in the details. Or perhaps it is better to say that the meaning of words like merit and reward have to be placed in a larger theological context. In Catholic theology, merit is part of a system in which the sacraments play a crucial role in salvation so that justification receives a definition quite different from what we typically find in Protestant theology. For instance, Catholic theology teaches that justification is a process that continues throughout one’s life, 58 whereas Protestants typically contend that justification is forensic and not transformative.
One’s understanding of merit, then, is tied closely to one’s understanding of justification. In the Catholic system justification is a process and works play a role in the renewal of the person. There is not time or space to defend the view that justification is forensic, but it is obvious that one’s notion of final reward or what Barber calls merit will be interpreted in radically different ways if one disagrees on the nature of justification.
Protestants emphasize that salvation is a gift of God, so that God justifies the ungodly (Rom. 4:2–5). As a corollary believers can be assured of final salvation because justification depends on faith and is not based on works (John 20:30–31; 1 John 5:12–13). Catholic theology, however, rejects the notion that anyone can be certain of final salvation apart from special revelation and teaches that those who are justified can lose their justification and finally be damned. Reformed Christians believe that those who are now justified (for whom God’s end time verdict has been declared in advance) will certainly be saved on the last day (Rom. 5:9). Set against this backdrop the Catholic understanding of merit and reward looks remarkably different from the Reformed understanding.
The disparity between Catholics and Protestants, of course, has a long history, reaching back to the Reformation, for the magisterial Reformers (Luther, Zwingli, and Calvin) believed in the effective grace of God in election. Such a view, of course, goes back to Augustine and also has roots in Aquinas. We think here of the famous debate between Luther and Erasmus on the bondage and freedom of the will.
The disjunction between Catholic and Reformed theology is reflected in their understanding of human freedom. Catholic theology today clearly endorses a libertarian view of human freedom, a view defended by Erasmus over against Luther. 59 Indeed, many of the early fathers espoused the same view, and such a view also has its defenders in Protestant theology, particularly in the Arminian wing of Protestantism. Catholic theology disputes the notion that grace is effective. In other words, grace ultimately depends on free will. 60 Merit is a result of grace, but the grace given can be resisted, and so those who obtain merit do so ultimately because of their free will. 61 “Moved by the Holy Spirit and by charity, we can then merit for ourselves and for others the graces needed for sanctification, for the increase of grace and charity, and for the attainment of eternal life.” 62
I would argue that one of the major issues that caused a rupture of the church at the time of the Reformation was the theology of grace. In other words, Catholic theology was semi-Pelagian, while the theology of the magisterial Reformers was Augustinian. Time and space are lacking to discuss this matter in the depth it deserves, but we must recognize that simply saying that both Protestants and Catholics believe in grace is too simplistic. Luther wrote The Bondage of the Will because his view of justification was tied to his view of election and the effective grace of God. Romans 11:5–6 is of crucial importance here. Salvation is all of grace, for God chooses effectively whom will be saved. Yes, Catholics believe in the grace of God, but ultimately grace can be resisted by the human will. Catholics teach the grace of justification can be lost. 63 The Reformers categorically rejected such an understanding of grace.
Readers might think I have wandered far from the essay Barber has written! My point is that the Catholic notion of merit takes on quite a different hue when human choice is ultimate in salvation, when justification is construed as a process, and when the salvation given at conversion can be lost. The term merit in the Catholic system assigns a contribution to salvation, which according to my reading of the Scriptures can’t be harmonized with the scriptural witness as a whole. In other words, we can only understand the significance of merit when it is placed into the context of Catholic doctrine as a whole over against Protestant doctrine.
Barber and I agree that good works are necessary for salvation, but at the end of the day we have a dramatically different understanding of what is meant by this formulation. As a Catholic he sees them as a human contribution to salvation, so that they play a crucial role in justification. As a Protestant, I would argue that justification is by grace alone and through faith alone and in Christ alone. True faith always produces love (Gal. 5:6). Good works are a fruit of faith and constitute necessary evidence of the genuineness of faith, but they are not the basis of salvation or justification. For forgiveness and justification are only ours through the crucified and risen Savior, Jesus Christ.
JAMES D. G. DUNN
I found myself warming to Michael Barber’s “Catholic perspective.” It is ecumenical: it effectively chops down the “dividing wall” between Roman Catholicism and Protestantism, which has prevented mutual respect and bred suspicion as to the gospel of both and the faithfulness of each to biblical teaching. Grace is as fundamental to both systems, even, arguably (as Barber provocatively suggests), more fundamental to Catholic teaching. 64
It is biblical: the Protestant dismissal of the Old Testament’s and early Judaism’s soteriology, too often dismissed as “works righteousness” and “synergistic,” is shown clearly to be at best misleading since it is so much of a piece with Jesus’ own teaching on reward. My own argument that the New Testament writers teach a form of “covenantal nomism,” not very different from the teaching of Old Testament and early Judaism, is reinforced.
Perhaps most important, Barber has no inhibitions in trying to show how the legal analogy of justification and judgment and the schema of incorporation in/into Christ can be held together in fruitful integration. 65 Even if we might quibble over use of terms like “merit,” 66 Jesus’ readiness to use the concept of “reward” should surely go a long way to calm any excessive Protestant sensitivities on that score.
The central issue for this volume is posed by Paul’s teaching on justification by faith. Michael Barber focuses chiefly on the Gospels, and I have no complaint about that, though it may miss what has been the heart of the battle. But it is, of course, of fundamental importance that Jesus’ teaching be fully taken into view. Some presentations, indeed, seem to imply that the (true) gospel only begins from and after Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection; that is, Jesus’ own teaching is not (yet Christian) gospel, and the “Jewishness” of his teaching can be passed over without any qualms. But it would be folly to reassert “the historical Jesus”/“Christ of faith” dichotomy on this point, as though Jesus’ own teaching could be regarded as defective because it was not yet completed by his passion.
And when we do take seriously Jesus’ teaching, preserved, after all, in the form of “the Gospels,” it is exceedingly hard to avoid the emphases that Barber has brought out. I too have been impressed by Eubank’s thesis, particularly his treatment of the parable of the workers in the vineyard (Matt. 20:1–16). Important elements of the parable have been too often overlooked, or they are submerged in the attempt to interpret the parable as an expression of pure grace. To be sure, the workers who work only for the last hour (no reasons given as to why their labor had not been engaged earlier in the day) are treated generously—graciously, we may of course say. But those who have worked all day are paid the wage agreed when they were engaged, the wage they had earned. Nothing in the parable denies their right to that wage. And if the parable is indeed a parable of the kingdom, that is of kingdom values, and of relations between the king and his subjects, then the failure to bring out a stronger note of “sheer unmerited grace” (payment entirely unrelated to work done for all workers) must be significant.
Reading Eubank’s thesis reminded me that Jesus’ saying, “I came to call not the righteous but sinners” (Mark 2:17), should not be taken as a rejection of “the righteous,” as though “righteous” was a condemnatory term. An implication that can be more readily drawn is that it was sinners who needed to hear the call of grace; the righteous had no such need—they were “righteous”! Similarly, when Jesus rounded off another parable by affirming to complainants that “the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you” (Matt. 21:31), he evidently was not denying that the complainants had a place in the kingdom. He was certainly breaking down the boundaries by which the religious thought that sinners were debarred from grace; he was not erecting new barriers to shut out the religious.
The same point comes through in the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11–32). I had always been a little nonplussed by the father’s response to the elder son’s complaint: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (15:31). Did Jesus include that simply for dramatic effect, part of the drama’s scenery? Should we assume that the quite popular variant title for the story, the “Parable of the Prodigal Sons,” has a better grasp of Jesus’ intention? Or should we rather see the father’s response as an affirmation of the elder son and of the closeness of his continuing relation to the father? Of course, the father is distressed at the elder son’s legitimate disparagement of the younger son, but did that affect the elder son’s standing with the father? And if the parable images the righteous Pharisees’ disparagement of “sinners,” then does it not make the same point as just drawn from Mark 2:17? If the righteous are condemned for their dismissal of sinners as offensive to God, then many Christians who strongly disapprove of the beliefs or practices of others as debarring them from salvation should be relieved that while grace reaches out to the sinner, it does not exclude the righteous.
Only a few notes of disquiet came to mind as I read Barber’s essay—apart from his assigning me a place only “a little further” from those who “suggest that the deeds of the righteous are only the fruit of faith and, therefore, are not really what determine their salvation” (p. 168), which I read with something of a surprise.
One was the tendency to blend together passages from the Synoptic Gospels, from John’s gospel, from Paul and James and Revelation. Although in this case most of the blending is justified, the danger has to be guarded against of contriving a “New Testament teaching” on some subject that takes too little account of the distinctive emphases of each individual author or indeed sometimes of each individual document. It has been precisely the tendency to draw out one particular emphasis or metaphor or line of argument from Paul, or from the New Testament, to treat it as the dominant model or mould, and to squeeze the rest into it, knocking off or ignoring their corners and edges that do not so easily fit in, which has been the bane of so many reconstructions of Paul’s theology.
On another point of critique, Barber’s treatment of James and justification (pp. 177–78) needs to acknowledge that James 2:14–26 does seem to be in reaction to Paul’s teaching on the subject: the parallel between 2:14–26 and the sequence of Romans 3:27–4:22 is too close to be accidental. That includes the recognition that James was also echoing an interpretation of Genesis 15:6 that was current in the Judaism of the time, as evidenced by 1 Maccabees 2:52, an interpretation Paul was challenging in Romans 4:1–12. Paul was in effect protesting against the understanding of “faith” as “faithfulness.” Of course, Barber is right that for Paul too, true faith expresses itself in faithfulness—“faith working through love” (Gal. 5:6). But Paul’s point is lost if faith is simply collapsed into faithfulness. Faith for Paul was no more and no less than trust—as he argued in his exposition of Genesis 15:6: “Abraham believed God” means no more and no less that Abraham trusted God’s word of promise, when everything else told him it couldn’t happen (Rom. 4:18–21).
This observation also makes me a little nervous when Barber insists that faith “is still an act performed by the believer” (p. 179). To believe (aorist), along with the commitment of faith, is certainly an act. But in contrasting Abraham’s faith with his subsequent action, his being circumcised or (as implied) his readiness to offer up Isaac, Paul was making the point that unless faith is distinguished from human doing, human action, it is misunderstood as the basis for relationship between God and the believer. The “grace through faith” summary of Paul’s soteriology means that for Paul, saving faith is in its essence the reception of saving grace. To be sure, the fact that faith expresses itself in obedience (“the obedience of faith”) means that Paul’s argument in Romans 4:1–12 was vulnerable to the response that Abraham’s faith had expressed itself in his performance of circumcision, and that without that response it would not have been true faith; it was dead (Jas. 2:17–18, 24, 26). But Paul thought it important, nonetheless, to press the point that faith in itself is nothing more than trusting God.
This also makes me a little nervous about Barber’s comments on baptism. By failing to mention faith in relation to baptism, he feeds Protestant suspicion by allowing in a hint that baptism works with an ex opere operato efficacy (p. 182). But faith is so integral to conversion-initiation in the New Testament texts that to leave it out runs the risk, once again, of distorting the fundamental character of faith as the basis on the human side of the divine/human relationship; and that it is faith that is and marks the start of the Christian life. Certainly infant baptism “highlights in an especially profound way the gratuitousness of salvation” (p. 182), but the importance of incorporating the expression of faith into the infant baptismal ceremony has rarely been forgotten. It is rather significant, is it not, that Barber quotes 1 Peter 3:21, “baptism … now saves you,” but leaves the quotation at that point and fails to complete it: “baptism … now saves you … as an appeal to God for [or ‘from’] a good conscience.”
In an ecumenical dialogue there is something of central importance here: that the common ground on which all Christians can unite is faith in Christ, or faith in God through Christ; and any addition to that faith, “works of the law,” but also traditional rituals, creedal statements, and the like, effectively undermine the gospel. This was one of the most important lessons that Paul taught us (Gal. 2:16), and we lose sight of it at our peril.
In sum, Michael Barber shows that a fruitful dialogue between what were old entrenched positions (more entrenched on the Protestant side, to be honest) is now a realistic prospect and should be all the more fruitful through our shared understanding of biblical teaching. But in cutting away the misunderstandings and misinterpretations and in demonstrating that some contrasts have been overdrawn and exaggerated, we must not forget the distinctives and the emphases that Jesus and Paul in particular found it necessary to insist on.
1. Cited from Catechism of the Catholic Church (2nd ed.; Vatican: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1997), 487 (italics added). In this article, when quoting the Catechism, I will usually cite paragraph numbers instead of page numbers, as is conventional.
2. At the time of its release, John Paul II affirmed that the Catechism faithfully and authoritatively presents the teaching of the Catholic Church: “I declare it to be a sure norm for teaching the faith and thus a valid and legitimate instrument for ecclesial communion.” Apostolic Constitution, Fidei Depositum, 11 October 1992 (printed as a dedicatory letter in the Catechism of the Catholic Church [2nd ed.], 5).
3. Catholics believe that one is both judged at death (“particular judgment”; cf., e.g., Heb. 9:27)—thus allowing the believer to enter into his heavenly reward and be “with Christ” immediately (2 Cor. 5:8; Phil. 1:23; Heb. 12:23)—as well as at the end of history (“final judgment”; cf., e.g., Matt. 25:31–46; John 5:28–29). In Catholic teaching the verdict rendered at the final judgment is no different from that rendered at the particular judgment. For a fuller discussion, see Catechism, nos. 1021–22, 1038–41.
4. This article seeks to expound the official teaching of the Catholic Church. Therefore I will refer to the Catechism and other official Church documents. One might find a theologian/writer who, identifying himself as Catholic, takes a different view than that taught by the magisterial documents of the Church itself. However, to label such divergent opinions as “Catholic” is probably not helpful since such writers’ affiliation with the Catholic Church seems to play a negligible role in the formulation of their position.
5. Unless otherwise noted, all English translations of biblical texts are taken from the RSV. Any italics in biblical quotes are added.
6. Although I do not agree with every aspect of his treatment, I must commend the extremely helpful study of this topic by Alan P. Stanley, Did Jesus Teach Salvation by Works?: The Role of Works in Salvation in the Synoptic Gospels (ETSMS 4; Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2006), esp. 134–65.
7. See ibid., 134–65; idem, Salvation Is More Complicated Than You Think: A Study On the Teachings of Jesus (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2007), 45–57; Thomas R. Schreiner and Ardel B. Caneday, The Race Set before Us: A Biblical Theology of Perseverance and Assurance (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2001), 46–86.
8. Please note that throughout this essay, any italics in the Scripture passages have been added; they are not in the RSV.
9. Schreiner and Caneday, The Race Set before Us, 46–86.
10. Stanley, Did Jesus Teach Salvation by Works? 326.
11. Schreiner and Caneday, The Race Set before Us, 46–86.
12. See Pope Benedict XVI, St. Paul (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius), 25: “Christianity is not a new philosophy or a new morality. We are only Christians if we encounter Christ…. Only in this personal relationship with Christ, only in this encounter with the Risen One do we truly become Christians.”
13. Cited from H. J. Schroeder, The Canons and Decrees of the Council of Trent (St. Louis: Herder, 1941), 31.
14. Cited from ibid., 35.
15. Catechism, no. 1996.
16. For a full study of this passage and its influence on the New Testament texts explored below, see Kyoung-Shik Kim, God Will Judge Each One according to Works: Judgment according to Works and Psalm 62 in Early Judaism and the New Testament (BZNW 178; ed. James D. G. Dunn et al.; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011).
17. Some dispensationalist writers have argued that the scene does not describe the final judgment but the judgment of nations prior to the millennium. See, e.g., Stanley D. Toussaint, Behold the King: A Study of Matthew (Portland, OR: Multnomah, 1980), 288–89; John F. Walvoord, Matthew: Thy Kingdom Come (Chicago: Moody Press, 1974), 202. Yet this clearly goes beyond the text. In fact, the imagery here patently points to the scene of the eschatological judgment. See D. A. Carson, “Matthew,” EBC (ed. Tremper Longman III and David E. Garland; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010), 585–87; David L. Turner, Matthew (BECNT; eds. Robert W. Yarbrough and Robert H. Stein; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008), 604–5.
18. See, e.g., Joseph C. Dillow, The Reign of the Servant Kings: A Study of Eternal Security and the Final Significance of Man (Miami: Schoettle, 1992); Robert N. Wilkin, The Road to Reward: Living Today in Light of Tomorrow (Irving, TX: Grace Evangelical Society, 2003).
19. See also Craig L. Blomberg, “Degrees of Reward in the Kingdom of Heaven?” JETS 35 (1992): 159–72.
20. See the fine treatment in Stanley, Did Jesus Teach Salvation by Works? 273–77.
21. See Dale Allison, Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination, and History (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2010), 188–99. On the unique use of “kingdom of heaven” as an expression of the heavenly realm, see Jonathan T. Pennington, Heaven and Earth in the Gospel of Matthew, NovTSup 126; Leiden: Brill, 2007).
22. See e.g., John Calvin, A Harmony of the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, and Luke (eds. D. W. Torrance and T. F. Torrance; trans. A. W. Morrison and T. H. L. Parker; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972), 3:115–16, who makes the case that the “reward” is not merited by good deeds but is ultimately the result of God’s grace.
23. R. E. Nixon, “Matthew,” in The New Bible Commentary (rev. ed.; ed. D. Guthrie and J. A. Motyer; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1970), 846.
24. For a fuller discussion see, e.g., T. W. Manson, The Sayings of Jesus (London: SCM, 1949), 251; J. R. Michaels, “Apostolic Hardships and Righteous Gentiles: A Study of Matt. 25:31–46,” JBL 84 (1965) 27–37; George E. Ladd, “The Parable of the Sheep and Goats in Recent Interpretation,” in New Dimensions in New Testament Study (ed. R. Longenecker and M. Tenney; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1974), 191–99. This “was the most widely accepted [interpretation] until around 1800.” See Ulrich Luz, Matthew 21–28 (Hermeneia; ed. Helmut Koester, trans. James E. Crouch; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005), 271. We might point out that this reading is not without its problems. See Klyne R. Snodgrass, Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 555–58; W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison, Matthew 19–28 (ICC; ed. J. A. Emerton et al.; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1997), 428–29.
25. Stanley, Did Jesus Teach Salvation by Works? 303–5.
26. Daniel J. Harrington, “The Rich Young Man in Matthew 19:16–22: Another Way to God For Jews?” in The Four Gospels (ed. F. Van Sebroeck et al.; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1992), 1429.
27. The Catechism interprets this story in terms of the offer of eternal salvation in nos. 308 and 1058.
28. See Gary Anderson, Sin: A History (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2009); idem, “Redeem Your Sins by the Giving of Alms: Sin, Debt, and the ‘Treasury of Merit’ in Early Jewish and Christian Tradition,” Letter & Spirit 3 (2007): 39–69; idem, “From Israel’s Burden to Israel’s Debt: Towards a Theology of Sin in Biblical and Early Second Temple Sources,” in Reworking the Bible: Apocryphal and Related Texts at Qumran (ed. E. G. Chazon et al.; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 1–30.
29. Nathan Eubank, “The Wages of Righteousness: The Economy of Heaven in the Gospel According to Matthew” (PhD diss., Duke University, 2012). This work will be published this year by Walter de Gruyter with a new title: Wages of Cross-Bearing and Debt of Sin: The Economy of Heaven in Matthew’s Gospel (BZNW 196; Berlin/Boston: de Gruyter, 2013).
30. See, e.g., Martin MacNamara, Targum and Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972), 120; Matthew Black, An Aramaic Approach to the Gospels and Acts (Oxford: Clarendon, 1967), 140; Joachim Jeremias, New Testament Theology (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1971), 6, fn. 15; 196.
31. Anderson, Sin, 32.
32. Translation taken from ibid., 34.
33. See 1 Enoch 38:1–2; 41:1; 61:8; Apoc. Zeph. 8:5; T. Ab. 12 (note 12:15: “repayment” [antapodosis]); t. Qiddushin 1:13–14.
34. Eubank, “Wages of Righteousness,” 74.
35. See ibid., 76. Eubank mentions that the Oxford English Dictionary cites Adam Smith’s eighteenth-century work, Wealth of Nations: “A little school, where children may be taught for a reward so moderate, that even a common labourer may afford it” (II. v. i. 370).
36. R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew (NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 752.
37. Stanley, Salvation Is More Complicated Than You Think, 83.
38. Eubank, “Wages of Righteousness,” 108.
39. Ibid., 101–12.
40. See e.g., 2 Baruch 24:1–2. Likewise, see T. Ab. 14:1–8 [A], where souls whose good and evil actions are equally weighted enter into paradise due to the intercession of Abraham and Michael. The emphasis clearly falls on God’s “boundless” mercy (14:9). For further analysis of such passages, see Chris VanLandingham, Judgment and Justification in Early Judaism and the Apostle Paul (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2006), 66–74; Simon J. Gathercole, Where is Boasting: Early Jewish Soteriology and Paul’s Response in Romans 1–5 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002); Kent Yinger, Paul, Judaism, and Judgment according to Deeds (SNTSMS 105; ed. Richard Bauckham; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999).
41. Eubank, “Wages of Righteousness,” 115.
42. See John MacArthur, James (The MacArthur New Testament Commentary; Chicago: Moody Press, 1998), 137–39.
43. Many commentators harmonize Paul and James by pointing out that the former speaks of initial justification, the latter final justification. Such scholars acknowledge that while initial justification takes place by faith, final justification involves works. See, e.g., Patrick J. Hartin, James (SP 14; ed. Daniel J. Harrington; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 2003), 165–67. Hartin (p. 167) cites Augustine: “Therefore the opinions of the two apostles, Paul and James, are not opposed to each other when the one says that man is justified by faith without works, and the other says that faith without works is useless; because the former (Paul) speaks about works that precede faith, while the latter (James) speaks about those that follow faith; as even Paul shows in many places” (De diversis quaestionibus LXXXIII Liber Unus 76).
44. Catechism, no. 153. See also Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I-II, q. 109, art. 6 and 9.
45. See Council of Trent, Session IV, chap. 16: “For since Christ Jesus Himself … continually infuses strength into those justified, which strength always precedes, accompanies and follows their good works, and without which they could not in any manner be pleasing and meritorious before God, we must believe that nothing further is wanting to those justified to prevent them from being considered to have, by those very works which have been done in God, fully satisfied the divine law.”
46. Cited from Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on Colossians (trans. F. R. Larcher; Naples; Sapientia, 2006).
47. See also Jean-Nöel Aletti, Saint Paul: Épître aux Colossiens (Paris: Gabalda, 1993), 134–37.
48. That Paul identifies baptism with justification has been persuasively argued in the recent work of Protestant scholar Michael Gorman, Inhabiting the Cruciform God: Kenosis, Justification, and Theosis in Paul’s Narrative Soteriology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 73–79.
49. This point is made in Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Church, Ecumenism and Politics: New Endeavors in Ecclesiology (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius, 2008), 19.
50. Space precludes a defense of infant baptism here. For a fuller defense of the practice see Bryan Holstrom, Infant Baptism and the Silence of the New Testament (Greenville, SC: Ambassador, 2008); Gregg Strawbridge, The Case for Covenantal Infant Baptism (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2003); Joachim Jeremias, Infant Baptism in the First Four Centuries (trans. D. Cairns; Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2004 [1960]); Meredith G. Kline, By Oath Consigned: A Reinterpretation of the Covenant Signs of Circumcision and Baptism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1968).
51. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion (trans. H. Beveridge; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975), 3.14.21.
52. For further discussion, see Joseph Wawrykow, “John Calvin and Condign Merit,” Archiv für Reformationsgeschichte 83 (1992): 73–90.
53. Sermon 120 10. Cited from St. Augustine, Sermons on Selected Lessons of the New Testament (Oxford: James Parker, 1845), 2:879.
54. Barber does quote John 14:23 and 16:15 as well, on pp. 165, 181, and 183, but those verses say nothing about regeneration.
55. I think it is overstated to say works are “the essential criterion.”
56. I realize some Protestants would disagree with me here. Given the nature of the response, I am not qualifying every statement.
57. Catechism of the Catholic Church (New York: Doubleday, 2003), no. 2006–2011 (pp. 541–42). For the catechism I am supplying first the paragraph number and then the page number of my edition.
58. Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 1989, 1995 (pp. 536–37).
59. The Council of Trent (Session 6, Chapter 1) affirms the continuing power of free will, by which they mean what is called libertarian freedom philosophically. Canon 17 rejects the Reformers’ understanding of predestination. Cf. also Catechism of the Catholic Church, no., 1993 (p. 537), where the freedom of the human will is given ultimacy.
60. Many Protestants today would also agree with such a judgment, though in Arminian theology the freedom of the will to choose is typically ascribed to prevenient grace.
61. “The fatherly action of God is first on his initiative, and then follows man’s free acting through his collaboration, so that the merit of good works is to be attributed in the first place to the grace of God, then to the faithful” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 2008 (p. 541).
62. Catechism of the Catholic Church, n. 2010 (p. 542). Italics theirs.
63. Council of Trent, Session 6, Chapter 15; Catechism of the Catholic Church (no. 162, p. 50) says about faith: “Faith is an entirely free gift that God makes to man. We can lose this priceless gift.”
64. “The Catholic teaching has always insisted that we are saved by grace. On this point Catholics and Protestants agree” (p. 166). “If the Catholic understanding is mistaken, it is because we believe God is able to do more in believers by grace than Protestants believe” (p. 180).
65. “We are ‘justified,’ that is, we are declared/made righteous, because Christ is ‘our righteousness’ (1 Cor. 1:30)” (p. 165). “Salvation involves more than just deliverance from sin. Salvation involves being fully incorporated into Christ” (p. 179).
66. “Since Christ has the capacity to merit, he merits for believers the capacity to merit with him. In other words, if salvation is truly Christocentric—if it involves being conformed to the image of Christ—it necessarily involves our ability to merit in him. Good works are not simply the fruit of salvation; they are part and parcel of it. Without them we are not fully ‘like Christ’”(p. 181).