“At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, ‘Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’”
Matthew 18:1-4
Jesus famously used the example of a child to describe entering the kingdom of heaven to the apostles, echoing other places (like John 3) where we are told that we must be “born again” to see the kingdom of God. When you are born you are a child, and children are meek and innocent. Indeed the very first line of the Bible (“In the beginning God…”) requires that you believe God exists and created all things, something which if rejected prevents everything else from being understood. Faith is then the gateway to God, but faith itself is far more of a mysterious thing than most today realize. Just as the gospel is referred to as a mystery over a dozen times in the New Testament, so too is faith a mystery. This mystery is perfectly encapsulated in Philippians 2:12-13:
“Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”
The reason Jesus uses children as a picture of faith is because children are trusting. They are not paranoid, skeptical, critical or worried. Childlike innocence is characterized by trust, and that is the kind of trust God wants us to have in order to interact and be with Him. But this simple gospel, which indeed is very simple (often too simple for the world) also is incredibly profound. It is profound because of verses like Philippians 2:12-13, and many others like them, that give this simple message an infinitely deep quality with many layers.
Unfortunately, instead of seeing the mystery and dance between these layers, most people today get caught up in endless debates about faith and works that miss the whole point. Worse still, the lack of depth in most Protestant denominations has led to a massive wave of deconstructions in favor of traditional religions like Catholicism and Orthodoxy — institutions that offer the illusion of substance through their various traditions, processions, architecture and carnal practices like venerating relics or kissing icons. All of these things are loved and adored because people were not taught to love the truth, which inoculates you against the counterfeit.
And that truth is that all things, when you go deep enough, boil down to a mystery. A mystery in plain terms does not mean something occult or esoteric or secret — it means that you have two opposing realities in dynamic balance with one another. A simpler way to call that mystery is a dance, the dance of life. All major doctrines come to a mystery, and I discuss how that works in my book The Seven Transformations: Finding the Narrow Road by Pursuing a Sovereign Christ. One quick example is the dual nature of the Messiah. Jesus is both fully human and fully divine, and that comes with many mysterious realities and unanswered questions that we must accept on faith, trusting in God and marveling rather than complaining.
So on one hand the life of Christ is very simple. Jesus was a real person with a real life, real friends and real events. He ate food, walked everywhere, laughed and cried. Yet Jesus also claimed to be God and was worshiped as God by those who wrote about Him, which takes the simplicity of His life into an infinite level of depth. In the same way, faith itself — the core of the gospel — has many important layers that, as you mature in your walk, are important to come to terms with and meditate on.
In the book of Hebrews, the author tells his audience that they need to mature beyond children. They need “solid food” rather than milk, but he is afraid they are not ready for it. Of course these are metaphors for growing in discernment and knowledge, but the point here is that we again see a dance. Jesus tells us to be like children, yet the author of Hebrews — also inspired by the Spirit of Christ — tells us we need to mature and not remain as children. So which is it? The answer is both, and context is the key.
Childlike, innocent, trusting faith is what God wants. But part of that faith is becoming more like Christ, and that means growing in wisdom and knowledge and also love. This is a lifelong process, and it will only be perfected at the resurrection, but there is a journey to walk nonetheless. Or, as Paul puts it to Timothy, a “fight” (1 Timothy 6:12) or in other places a “race” that we run (1 Corinthians 9:24, 2 Timothy 4:7). So then we take Paul’s invitation and struggle a bit with this topic of faith, because it is much more than simply believing or knowing something. It is a mystery like life itself, and that mystery has nuance and depth beyond what is immediately obvious.
THE MEANS OF LEGAL RECONCILIATION
The most important first order of business is to establish faith’s relationship to the gospel. The gospel is the “good news” because God’s wrath and justice is the bad news. God as appointed a time to judge the world and Satan for all the evil in history, and that judgment will be by way of Christ’s return. God is the Judge of the Earth (Genesis 18:25) and there are many evils that have gone unpunished. That isn’t because God forgot about them, but rather that all things will be accounted for at the end. Nobody will escape, and wrath will be absolute and destructive. To arrive at this final day with a guilty sentence is the worst possible outcome anyone can have, which is why the gospel is the good news and why we are told to proclaim it to the world.
I have discussed these things in great depth in many places, like my Salvation series or my article on penal substitutionary atonement. Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy deny justification by faith alone in favor of various forms of cooperative, works based gospels that offer no hope and no good news. Yet they are effective at retaining the minds of millions because most have been deceived by the lie of free will. As long as you espouse this paradigm, justification (being declared innocent by the Judge) cannot be by faith alone. It is impossible, because there are many verses where God describes judging everyone according to their works. And if we are the primary cause of our good works, including our desire to believe, then the onus of responsibility falls on man to assure his justification before God. There is no good news in that model nor is it based on grace, but rather merit and performance.
So faith on a basic level is the means by which we are made right with God in a legal sense. This legal dimension is a necessary requirement because God is a Judge and you cannot have a Judge without a courtroom or law, and therefore everyone is obligated to behave according to the law — resulting in either innocent or guilty verdicts come judgment time. The problem is that by the time you are even old enough to know the Judge exists, you have already broken the law countless times and are guilty. Guilty sentences cannot be cleared by doing good works as to “undo” their guilt. That’s not how justice works, and certainly not when you have trampled on the glory of an infinite being as His image bearer and therefore deserve death. No amount of good works or community service will save you from judgement, because justice demands pain and suffering for the crimes committed. What you need is someone to pay the death penalty for you, in your place, and you also need the mercy of the Judge to appoint such a person for you according to their standards.
Only one case in history claims to provide this, and that is the case of Jesus Christ. Therefore faith is how we enter into this legal transaction. At the most basic, childlike level of understanding, faith is trusting that Jesus made the perfect payment on your behalf (because you are guilty, can’t forget that part) and that God’s promise to resurrect you for trusting in His promise is guaranteed because He is faithful. The Bible uses the word “guarantee” several times explicitly, like in 2 Corinthians 1:22, 2 Corinthians 5:5 and Ephesians 1:14. The author of Hebrews says that one must not only believe that God exists, but that He rewards those who draw near to Him (Hebrews 11:6).
So then the essence of faith is to believe God’s promise made through Christ, and in so doing you actually believe two things: that God is faithful and that you are guilty and deserve death otherwise. This is an important distinction, because far too many preach a gospel of faith without repentance, yet both are part of the process. Jesus called people to repent, which in the Greek means to turn around or have a change of mind — one that is permanent. So trusting in Christ as your payment means you also are cognizant of the fact that you need a payment. That’s simple enough that anyone can understand. It does not mean being a scholar or even knowing what the term “penal substitutionary atonement” means. It means simply trusting in Jesus as your payment before a righteous Judge, and trusting in God to deliver on His promise as He has stated, because God is faithful (1 Thessalonians 5:24).
THE ESSENCE OF TRUST
If trusting in Christ’s payment is the essence of faith, what is the essence of trust? What does it mean to trust? The author of Hebrews has one of the most eloquent and succinct verses on exactly this topic, in the opening to Hebrews 11:
“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
To trust is to have assurance of something, to genuinely hope and be convicted of a future reality even though the present one gives plenty of room to believe otherwise. But even hoping itself requires exploration, because we use the word “hope” to refer to a variety of things, most of which are not something to hope in. “I hope my basketball team wins tomorrow” or “I hope my boss likes my presentation” are not the same kind of hope described in Hebrews 11.
The kind of hope described by this author is a hope grounded in the reality of death, which is the paradigm we exist in. Everything dies, and death is a permanent change of state. We no longer exist. We checkout of reality. We go into the great void, trusting completely that He who is faithful will reach into that void and bring us back out. It is the ultimate trust fall, and our hope is in Christ alone to be able to pull off such a supernatural feat.
So hope as it is relayed in the context of faith is a hope to be rescued from sure death, and it is also hope in a Person. We are not describing some kind of impersonal, cognitive, generalized hope or worldly optimism. We are describing a real, genuine and intimate connection to a Person, Jesus Christ, through our desire. In fact it is here that we see what this all boils down to, which is where our desire is pointed.
Throughout the scriptures we are told to delight ourselves in God and find joy in the Lord. It is in fact a command, because idolatry and false worship are all connected to finding delight and joy in something or someone more than you do in God. As Jesus says in Matthew 6:21, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” That doesn’t mean transient joys, like playing with a puppy or having a fun party, because these things come and go and they take our attention momentarily. That’s a normal part of life. What is at stake here is something deeper. It means, what is the central joy of your life? What is the desire that pulls you along, gives you fuel when you are low and anchors the chaos of your journey? What do you keep coming back to? What do you hope in? What gives your life ultimate purpose and meaning?
These are internal experiences, but they are not solely internal — and this is the point. To hope and desire and long for the return of Christ (2 Timothy 4:8) is not merely a belief or thing that you “have” inside of you, it is something that you do and experience fully. It is a mental, emotional and spiritual commitment that manifests in your life noticeably through the choices that you make. When Paul wrote that he desires “by any means possible” to attain the resurrection of the dead (Philippians 3:8-11), he was describing such a commitment. That kind of hope is not a cognitive or solely internal experience, it is a living tree that blossoms fruit. We can then say that true faith is the kind of faith that is marked by having a desire for God above other things, and hoping in God’s promise of salvation from the curse of death.
It is important here to qualify that such a desire is going to wax and wane in the Christian life. You are not always going to be on fire for God or the gospel, indeed probably most of the time we fail pretty hard at experiencing that kind of devotion. Here we remember the mystery that God is sovereign over the conscience, and He has a plan and direction for everyone. This is why we should always be cautious when judging others’ faith, and even our own. God reminds us there is no condemnation for those who are truly saved (Romans 8:1), and we are encouraged to confirm our election and walk toward God with boldness, knowing that our payment is sure in Christ (Hebrews 4:16). The elect of God will all trust in Him and hope in the power of His resurrection, but often times this will not always be immediately obvious or completely consistent because the flesh is the flesh and God also works in mysterious ways.
So true faith is marked by hope and desire in the Person of Jesus, which means that true faith is not merely a belief or knowledge — but rather an intimate relationship. We fail at that relationship daily, but our performance is not the factor in this relationship; Christ’s performance is. Our only factor is if we hope in the promise of that performance and genuinely desire to be with the Person who did it on our behalf. The goal of the gospel is not merely to be like God, it is to be with God — because God is all that exists and God is perfect.
“Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall belike him, because we shall see him as he is.”
1 John 3:2
“Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.”
John 17:24
In these two passages we see the end goal of the gospel: to be with God and, as a result, to be like God. But importantly, it is the “with” that results in the “like”. Satan’s version of the gospel is that you can be “like” God without being “with” God, therefore Satan’s gospel preaches a message of knowledge that has no intimacy, no blood. That is why universally you will always see knowledge and philosophy as the foundation of any apostate or pagan religion, rather than a true, living relationship via trust in the work of the Savior.
It is also the case that Satan’s version of salvation will always focus on the external qualities we measure of God, like His power or freedom, rather than the character qualities. In other words, Satan’s version of being “like God” appeals to our ego, whereas the gospel’s promise of becoming like God appeals to God’s character, which humbles our ego. God is called faithful numerous times in the scriptures, and it is His character that we are being conformed to, which means that faith as a seed in our life blossoms into the character of Christ, which is faithfulness. More on this a little later.
Nevertheless, the relational nature of the gospel demands that faith itself is more than just an experience or something we possess in a vacuum: it is a relationship we actively participate in through our hope and desire in a specific Person, who is Jesus Christ, just like a bride eagerly anticipates and longs for her groom. Indeed the classic story of the damsel in distress, longing for the knight in shining armor to save her from the big red dragon is, in fact, the story of history itself.
FAITH IS A DANCE
The topic of “is faith a work or not” is one of the most commonly discussed in soteriology. Unfortunately it often leads to needless debates over semantics. The answer to this debate is that faith not a mere work nor a mere state of belief — it is a dance, and I believe understanding it this way reveals its many layers. But for the sake of discussion, it is important to document both sides of that dance. The religiously minded argue that faith is something that we do, pointing to several examples like:
The centurion expressing he wasn’t worthy of Christ, showing humility, and approaching Him asking for help (Matthew 8:5-8)
The afflicted woman who strove to reach out for Jesus’ garment so she could be healed (Matthew 9:20-22)
James’ rebuke of the church in Jerusalem and their lack of faith (which resulted in treating the poor improperly)
Even the thief on the cross, a classic example of deathbed justification by faith, is not a clear-cut example where faith can be isolated as merely a passive cognitive experience or internal happening that one “has” — rather it is something that one also “does.” The thief repented and endured enormous pain while trusting his life in Jesus’ hands for who knows how long. Whether it was an hour or two or maybe three, it doesn’t matter. Even 30 minutes of suffering in the most horrible way possible, while holding that hope and desire and trust in the Person next to you who promised you life, means that faith is not merely just a belief or solely an internal experience. It is something living, real and it results in action; it is a commitment that endures. Indeed there are countless verses in the Bible that describe endurance, like Matthew 10:22: “But the one who endures to the end will be saved.”
Yet here many will point to the other countless places in the New Testament that describe our reconciliation with God by faith, that is, by believing. Titus 3:5 says that God “saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy.” The favorite verse of the world, John 3:16, makes no mention of doing any works but just believing, as do countless other statements by Christ in John’s gospel. When Jesus says to the woman at the well, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life,” He is describing a singular event of drinking which results in a permanent change. It is obvious here that He isn’t referring to real water but rather in believing in Him, but even here we see that this goes deeper than a simple one-time transaction.
The drinking in question is not just drinking, it also inevitably results in a spring of water welling up in that person. That is, the lack of thirst is not because they drank once and the problem was solved. It is because the drinking itself also caused an irreversible change within them, a living and active spring that satisfies their thirst so they are not having to search for water anymore. In a sense, the drinking not only solved the momentary thirst — it also inverted the situation from a problem to a self-sustaining solution.
This is very important, because modern Protestantism has dumbed down these interchanges to be over-simplistic, especially with their universalist free will gospel. What is actually being described is far more profound, intimate and involved. The New Testament indeed describes an instantaneous change, like when Paul talks about being dead to sin and alive to Christ or when Jesus tells us we need to be born again. Ephesians 1 and many other places describe salvation as a done deal, a finalized affair awaiting delivery. In this sense it is also irreversible, and that means that what we are dealing with here is far more substantial than a mere moment of belief.
In Galatians 6:10, Paul describes the “household of faith”, and in countless other places we see the definite article (“the”) before faith, as in “the faith.” A few examples are 1 Corinthians 16:13 (“Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong”) and 2 Corinthians 13:5 (“Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith”). These statements position faith as a new identity, both personal and group. Faith is something one belongs to and gets grafted into, as well as abides in (like Jesus’ parable of the vine in John 15). This is an active participation in a new identity, irreversibly caused by the transformation of the believer’s life.
So if we are dealing with an identity change, and that change is irreversible, that means the outcome of that new identity is permanent and therefore guaranteed. One who drinks will never be thirsty again. Man himself cannot guarantee anything, which means then that what we experience as faith — indeed drinking from the proverbial fountain that Jesus offers — is not ultimately something that we do, rather it is being done to us by the only one who can cause and guarantee such a thing, namely God Himself.
“Then they said to him, ‘What must we do, to be doing the works of God?” Jesus answered them, ‘This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.’”
John 6:28-29
In this simple exchange, we see the mentality of the world and the wisdom of God. The Jews asked Jesus what they needed to do to be doing the works (plural) of God, and Jesus corrects them beautifully in three ways simultaneously. First, there is only one work that God requires, not many. Second, that work is being caused by God, not you. And third, that work is simply to believe on the one whom God has sent, Jesus. This is a completely different paradigm, and it reveals why faith is less like a “belief versus a work” and more like a dance between two complementary opposites.
In dancing you have a dynamic relationship between two people, moving through time and space. Yet there is a leader and a follower, which is why fundamentally this creates a mystery. The mystery is because on one hand there is a set order of initiation: the leader controls timing, what comes next, choreography, etc., and the follower responds. Yet they both move together, as one. The follower is not passive, they are both moving and enjoying the dance.
I believe this simple illustration is a more accurate view of faith, because it reconciles both sides. It is clear from the numerous passages in the scriptures that faith is something we do. Whether you want to call that a work or not doesn’t affect justification by faith apart from works. Why? Because faith is a work that God does, in a primary sense, which leads to our participating in it. God is the initiator, we are the followers. We experience faith, and therefore it is not a work that we are initiating, and God is justifying us by His own work in our lives, not our own works. This is why monergism is the only way to reconcile faith and works, but it is also what reveals faith to be more nuanced and deep of a topic than simply something one “has.”
The reason is because this very work also produces something real. Yes, faith is instantaneous and we are instantly justified before God through faith (belief) in Christ. Faith comes by hearing (Romans 10:17, Galatians 3:2-5, etc.) and hearing results in belief. If you repent in the last 5 minutes before your death, you are saved in that instant of trusting belief. But most people do not experience this extreme example, so I think it’s actually out of touch to use it as the basis for what faith is — which unfortunately is exactly what most Protestant apologists go to as a defense against Catholicism or Orthodoxy. But we can do better.
The authors of the New Testament never describe the gospel in this way, because the authors of the New Testament were concerned with moral behavior, living faith, genuine hope and action. Either way, most people have a life to live, and in that life God causes that spring of water to well up and produce the fruit of a transformed heart. Ezekiel 36 and Jeremiah 31 promise that God will cause His people to obey and walk in His character, and that means that faith cannot be divorced from works or something that we do, because true faith is a lived experience. That doesn’t mean that we are justified by faith and works, because God is the cause of both of these things. It means that genuine faith is something profound to marvel at, because it is fundamentally a work of God just like physical life is a work of God.
FAITHFULNESS OR FAITH?
Here inevitably the debate over whether the word “faith” in our English bibles (pistis) actually means faith or “faithfulness” comes into play. The Greek word “pistis” has a semantic range that can include faithfulness, however Paul uses it interchangeably with the corresponding word for believe (“pisteuo”). Examples are Romans 4, where Paul describes the faith and believing of Abraham (or Galatians 3:6-7), or Galatians 3:22, where he says, “But the Scripture imprisoned everything under sin, so that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe.”
So the argument that “faith” in our English bibles should be “faithfulness” is not entirely accurate. Paul uses the words for faith and believing interchangeably, even though “pistis” does have a semantic capability to be rendered as “faithfulness.” But does that resolve the issue? Is faith then just believing? What does it mean to truly believe?
We haven’t gotten out of the woods yet, because the cultural realities and context of these authors reveal there is room for nuance and depth consistent with what we have explored thus far. In Romans 1:17 Paul cites Habakkuk 2:4, but both Habakkuk and Paul were Israelites who understood and spoke Hebrew, and the Hebrew word for faith in Habakkuk 2:4 is “emunah”. That’s a word that describes a continued, steadfast, committed trusting. It is the kind of living hope that gives one strength to carry on in the face of great evil or chaos. It is the fuel of endurance, the longing to be rescued and saved and to be with God. It is an alignment of the conscience, body, mind and soul to God. In essence, this word is what we would get by combining several English words and experiences into one concept, like faith, trust, commitment, steadfastness and so on. It does not have a cultural counterpart because people 2000+ years ago thought and spoke differently about the world and about God than we do today.
But that matters for the whole faith vs. faithfulness debate, because it doesn’t give the “faith alone” crowd a free pass on the mystery. Yes, most of the time “faith” is translated correctly, but that’s not the problem. The problem is that English is a new language and it originated in a culture far divorced from the one who penned the words of scripture in Hebrew, and even later in Greek.
Greco-Roman culture saw “pistis” as more than just mental assent, but rather something much deeper. It was a word that carried social, relational and political context. In first-century Hellenistic culture, “pistis” was understood across several practical dynamics of daily life, such as:
Loyalty & Allegiance: In political and military contexts, to have pistis meant to have loyalty, fidelity, and allegiance to your superiors and the nation. Josephus famously commanded a rebel leader to “repent and believe (pisteuo) in me,” meaning to abandon rebellion and pledge active political loyalty. Many first century linguistic researchers have noted that pistis is better understood not as a passive, intellectualized experience but rather practically as allegiance, the same kind that a subject would swear to a king. This kind of loyalty came with the assumption of physical actions and consequences in the real world.
The Patron-Client Relationship: In the Hellenistic world, Roman and Greek societies operated on networks of patronage. Here we see something very interesting, because pistis described the relationship between a patron and a client from both sides. In other words, it was a two-way street meaning both trust (the client relying on the patron) and trustworthiness (the patron being reliable to the client). This is why verses like 1 John 1:9, 1 Corinthians 10:13, 2 Corinthians 1:18, etc. describe God as faithful (pistos), because He is trustworthy. Why is God trustworthy? Because He will act on His word and bring it into being.
A Legal Pledge or Guarantee: In ordinary commercial Greek, pistis was used to denote a legal contract, a marriage vow, a physical guarantee, or a token of good faith. These were practical matters that entailed action and consequences, and they were wrapped up into the context of this word for the everyday Greek speaker.
Openness to Persuasion: A final interesting element worth noting is that of a malleable mind. The Hellenistic world was full of philosophy, discussion and debate. This is important because the word stems from the root peitho (”to persuade”). In a culture rich in rhetoric and the exchange of ideas, “pistis” implied a state of being open to logical persuasion or evidence, rather than holding a blind, dogmatic conviction. I find this interesting because of the connection to “metanoia” (repentance), which carries the understanding of turning around or changing the mind.
So now the picture becomes even clearer. As usual, both sides of the faith vs. faithfulness debate are missing the truth because it is just another dialectic of man. The religious crowd will insist that faith should be translated as “faithfulness” because of the semantic capability of the word “pistis” — and because of the many moral imperatives and statements concerning obedience. In response, the “faith alone” crowd will argue that Paul uses the word for “believe” interchangeably, and that faith is just that: believing.
But “believing” in English doesn’t mean what “pistis” meant in the Hellenistic Greco-Roman world where Paul wrote these letters. And it certainly doesn’t mean what “emunah” would have meant to the Israelites hearing Habakkuk’s preaching, things that were handed down by tradition to the Israelites who wrote the New Testament. That means the cultural context of these words encompasses far greater emotional and spiritual and practical realities than English can provide, and insisting that faith is “just believing” waters down the gospel message — at least for those who have already accepted it and need to grow in their faith beyond the bare understanding.
This is why I say that faith is a dance, and also why explorations like these require maturity. Some will never mature past the most basic aspect of faith, which is to believe Jesus paid the price for your sins before a holy God and trust that He will deliver you from death. And that’s OK. That alone is enough to live a godly life, and God will make sure that wisdom is perfected at the resurrection. However, in the interim, as we mature we begin to learn the deep things of God, like predestination, unconditional election, God’s sovereignty over the conscience, God causing both faith and works in our lives and so on. These are not topics for evangelization, they are things to delight in and marvel at after the seed has been planted and begins to grow. But that they exist is important, because faith has many layers and most do not see beyond the surface level.
FAITH CAN BE FALSE
Complicating all of this even further is one last dimension, and that is that faith can be false. Indeed, the central issue of the Church Age is that of counterfeit faith and counterfeit worship. From the apostates that were infiltrating the Church in the New Testament, all the way to the final generation that will marvel after the resurrected Beast and take his mark — the warnings of the New Testament are that of false believers being mixed in with the genuine ones. This was the case in the Old Testament also. In fact even Cain himself, the first murderer, was a believer of God and offered sacrifices, yet he had counterfeit faith which resulted in counterfeit works and no actual transformation like his brother Abel.
In Matthew 7 Jesus famously paints a picture of false converts crying to be let into the kingdom at the end of time, even boasting of many mighty works done in Jesus’ name — yet being turned away for not actually doing the will of God but rather being workers of lawlessness. This sets the precedent that doing mighty works and things we would consider obviously “good” are not necessarily good in God’s eyes, but rather whether someone did the will of God or not is what matters. That means we must search for what the Bible tells us the will of God is, so that we have a standard to discern what Jesus means with this example and apply it to our lives. With that said, below are the examples where the New Testament explicitly describes what “the will of God” is, along with my commentary.
“And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.”
John 6:39-40
Jesus here describes the will of God in two ways, reflecting the cultural understanding of pistis as “trustworthiness”. On one hand the will of God is that Christ lose nobody who is given to Him, establishing the trustworthiness of the patron’s guarantee, and on the other God’s will is for those who believe to have eternal life — establishing the patron’s generosity and graciousness. Therefore those who do not do the will of the Father according to Matthew 7 are those that do not actually believe. Why? Because they were never given to the Son. Only those given to the Son are kept for eternal life, so then the only natural conclusion from the wicked counterfeits in Matthew 7 is that, though they seemed to have mighty works, they were in fact never true believers.
“For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God; that no one transgress and wrong his brother in this matter, because the Lord is an avenger in all these things, as we told you beforehand and solemnly warned you. For God has not called us for impurity, but in holiness.”
1 Thessalonians 4:3-7
Paul is describing God’s will here in practical and moral terms: God’s people are set apart and therefore they strive for consistency. They also fear God, which motivates them to always return back to a proper alignment with God. That means the wicked reprobate in Matthew 7 do not actually fear God (recall that Pharaoh “feared” God in a selfish, unrepentant way), and they also are not consistent morally. In other words, these people present themselves as workers of God yet behind closed doors do abominable things and are not set apart.
“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
I don’t believe this is describing the surface level of gratitude or joy or even prayer that anyone is capable of experiencing when life is good or they’ve been blessed. It is all too common today to see altar calls or mass baptisms paired with giant concerts and emotionally charged situations, which make it almost impossible to discern whether a person’s response in the moment is genuine or counterfeit. That is why this cuts deeper than surface level gratitude or joy or prayer. Rather, the defining context here is “in all circumstances” — in other words, the mark of a true Christian is to rejoice and pray and give thanks even when all worldly hope is lost. That is God’s will, and because God achieves His will in the elect — it means those in Matthew 7 were not the type to do such things when the going went rough. That is why the parable of the sower describes many that fall away, either by cares of the world or tribulation. Endurance is God’s responsibility, and the wicked are not caused to endure and rejoice in all circumstances, because having the ability to do such a thing is only possible by the Holy Spirit.
“For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people.”
1 Peter 2:15
The context of this section is submission to earthly authorities, being peaceable in society and doing good in the community, so that others who accuse you may be put to shame. That means those who do not do the will of God are rebellious, and the works they do aren’t actually to glorify God but rather to gain something for themselves.
All of this now paints a colorful picture of two types of faith: false faith and true faith. True faith is a work of God, done to you by God and according to His will. It is an instantaneous, irreversible event that blossoms forth a transformed life with a new commitment, and new desires. False faith lacks this work of God, therefore it is built on religious activity, vain works, external but empty manifestations and endless striving. It is a faith of man, not a faith of God. This is why we are warned so many times to test our faith and confirm our election, and why there are countless parables and warnings about imposters and counterfeits.
But here yet again there is a great mystery, because there are many in systems like Roman Catholicism and Orthodoxy who, though they pollute their life with empty religious works, are nonetheless genuine believers who read their bible, trust in Christ as their payment and provider, and experience that trust with new desires like helping the poor or being loyal to God. They do not know what “penal substitutionary atonement” means nor have they even heard those words, but they weep at the thought of Christ having paid their sins and so genuinely fulfill the law of faith.
All of this makes judging the heart practically impossible, which is why we should abstain from such things and trust God will save who He has purposed to save. On the public stage with those in power it is much easier, because we know the shadow system of the world and how people worship the devil in order to obtain favor. But even then, not everyone who is relatively popular is automatically a counterfeit. They may have their moment with God at some point in the future, so all of this keeps us in a humble posture.
What matters more is that we develop the sensitivity to evaluate our own selves and realign as necessary. Even within our own experience, it is easy to feel at certain times like you have lost your salvation or that God has forgotten about you or that you’ve made a mistake you will never recover from. In these times we must remember an opening line in Paul’s letter to the Philippians:
“And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”
Paul is sure of this outcome because God is faithful, and God’s faithfulness is not describing what God believes He will do — it describes what God has planned to do and will do. This and many other verses form the basis for the monergistic doctrine of eternal security, which is the foundation of the good news. Nobody who God has purposed to save will be lost, and although God let’s the elect slip and make mistakes — He always brings them back to Himself. A good shepherd never lets His sheep fall off a cliff. They may get stuck in holes or wander, but He will always bring them back before it is too late.
This is the dance of life, which is an ongoing experience of trust. I believe God decreed all of the false converts and hypocrites so that it would challenge us to look within and walk in godly fear, as well as exercise humility and compassion with others. If everyone was saved, or if there were no false converts and the wicked were all super obvious — none of those important character qualities would have room to develop. So God allowed Satan to counterfeit His work so that the elect could be conformed to the image of Christ.
ALIGNMENT & THE DANCE OF LIFE
So then, what is faith? On the most basic level it is trusting in Christ as your payment before God. But faith is much more than that, and hopefully today you realize its depth. It is not just an experience, but a new way of being. That new way of being is permanently given to you by the Creator, for His glory, and it unfolds in many good works that God prepared for you beforehand (Ephesians 2:10). It is also a way of life, because the original language of the word (both in Hebrew and Greek) carries far more than what English can ever provide in a single equivalent concept, hence why we need long theological dissertations on the topic.
But from my perspective of having taught competitive ballroom dancing for over 20 years, I think the term I like is that faith is a dance. In dancing we must always check our alignment, so that we are not off balance. How you are aligned to the floor determines everything. If you are too far forward, you will fall and be early on every beat. If you are too far backward, you will be late and sluggish. So in dancing we learn to master two postures, both of which are critical: at rest and readiness.
The “at rest” posture is when you are standing straight and aligned over your feet with the weight dispersed over the center of your foot. It would be a “neutral” stance, preferring no direction. This is the position of rest, and entering and exiting it is key for high performance and avoiding injuries or excess strain.
But in order to move you must align your body weight over the front of your feet. Animals are great at this because they telegraph their movements very obviously. If you play with a dog and get ready to throw it a ball, you see it leaning into its front paws ready to jump or chase. That kind of readiness posture is what allows you to move, because anatomically it aligns your body with the necessary muscles (like your calves) to fire. You can’t fire your calves from an at-rest position, or worse, from leaning backward. And if you’re too far forward then other muscles have engaged to stabilize you from falling, making you too tense. That is why there is a sweet spot, and that sweet spot is that you can only fire your calves if you are aligned slightly forward.
There is also the matter of the floor itself, because how you use the floor determines everything. The floor is the “rock” underneath your feet, and these various postures are all relative to the floor you’re standing on. In competitive dancing we would often say of someone dancing well that they were “really connected to the floor” — and vice versa, for those who were rushed, too light and disconnected or not grounded. Those who are truly grounded focus first on their relationship to the floor, and then the audience (world) outside. Poor or egotistical dancers do it the other way around, and it is no different in faith. Biblically, God is the Rock and Jesus tells us to build our house (of faith) on the rock. Then we know how to properly relate to the world around us with that foundation. But if we skip that foundation and are concerned with the world first, we will be swept away at judgment time.
In fact, this parable of the house on the rock immediately follows the warning about those false converts claiming many mighty works in His name. Coincidence?
Through these simple examples, which you can try on your own at home, you can get a sense of what I have been discussing here. In dancing we constantly cycle through readiness and rest to create beautiful choreography by connecting to the floor, which supports us. In faith, we cycle through resting and trusting in Christ while also being ready for action, alert and engaged — all while building our work on the solid foundation of God as our rock. Modern culture wars between these two perspectives, with religion emphasizing the readiness posture and Protestantism emphasizing the resting posture. But you need both to move, you need both to dance. Faith is neither alone, it is both and the good news is that this alignment, this profound dance of life, is not our own doing but God’s.
For a treatment of these and other theological topics in detail, please see my book “The Seven Transformations: Finding the Narrow Road by Pursuing a Sovereign Christ.”
I don’t know where you find the time my friend, but I’m grateful.