Which is More Secure, Election or Justification?

The previous entry reminds me of my oral examination for my Th.M. thesis. The Race Set Before Us had its early gestation when I wrote my Th.M. thesis, "The Perseverance of the Saints from the Life and Epistles of Paul."

During the oral exam, one of my readers asked, "How does your view of biblical warnings relate to Dr. Homer Kent, Jr.'s view that he presents in his Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews?" Dr. Kent had been one of my professors in a few courses. I explained the differences as well as I could at the time, probably not nearly as well as I should have done and not nearly as fully as I did here.

One of my readers posed another question that I have heard many times since from others. He asked, "How does your view differ from Robert Shank's view [Life in the Son] or from I. Howard Marshall's view [Kept by the Power of God]?" Both Shank, an Arminian, and Marshall, a Wesleyan, were prominent names in the discussion those days, so I had engaged both rather extensively in my master's thesis.

In the course of responding to the question as to how my view differs from that of Shank and of Marshall, my reader pressed me by asking, "But, it seems to me that you have mired yourself in contradiction. On the one hand, you insist that you believe in the final perseverance of all who are truly God's chosen people. Yet, on the other hand, you also insist that if believers do not obey the warnings and they fail to persevere to the end that they will perish eternally. How do you extricate yourself from this contradiction? Is it possible?" As you can tell from the way he framed the question, the professor who served as one of my readers did not raise a purely academic question. He posed a question that as far as he was concerned exposed my whole thesis as biblically and theologically unwarranted. Needless to say, I realized what was at stake. After all, in those days, at evangelical theological seminaries, it was not particularly wise to have any significant theological disagreement with one's major professors, especially with one of the readers of a master's thesis.

I responded by posing a rhetorical question with the intention of answering it. I asked, "Which is more secure God's electing us or God's justifying us?" The professor who was asking the questions responded before I could explain. He said, "Justification is more secure." He continued, "Once God justifies a believer, his verdict is irrevocable! We are secure in Christ." The unexpected interruption posed a dilemma. Not only did I have to answer my own rhetorical question, I also had to offer a correction to my professor. The situation was tense. I had to choose my words very carefully. I knew that what I intended to say in response to my own rhetorical question would come off as correcting my professor. I did not like the situation at all. I recognized that I was in a bind. I also knew that I had to proceed, but to proceed might jeopardize a year of work on an extensive thesis, which my wife, pregnant with our first son, had lovingly and cheerfully typed twice from a hand-written copy, the second time after the thesis had been stolen out of the office of one of my two readers. I had much to lose. I had to respond, but to respond well, I needed much wisdom, wisdom greater than I knew that I possessed.

I gathered my thoughts and began to respond, explaining to the two professors, "When we preach the gospel, we indiscriminately call upon all who hear to believe and we warn all that if they do not repent and believe in Jesus Christ, they will perish." I explained, "We do not quarrel with the truthfulness of such a warning, even though we have no concern that we warn the non-elect and the elect alike, indiscriminately. Why, then, should we object that warning believers that if they do not heed the gospel's warnings against apostasy that they will perish in eternal destruction?" Knowing how strongly convinced both of professorial readers believed in God's unconditional choosing whom he would save, I added a response to my professor's unexpected verbalized objection to my rhetorical question. "Indeed, God's justifying verdict is irrevocable. But is God's election of whom he will save any less irrevocable?" I offered. I continued, "Surely, that the New Testament teaches us indiscriminately to warn all who yet need to believe in Jesus Christ, whether non-elect or elect, that if they do not obey the gospel they will perish forever does not render God's electing grace tenuous. Does it? In the same way, the that the New Testament teaches us to warn all who believe in the Lord Jesus that if they fail to persevere in grace to the end they will perish does not render God's preserving grace tenuous. Does it? Are not warnings of the essence of the gospel's call? Are not warnings essential as the means through which God saves us by his grace?"

It was not extraordinary insight that prompted me to realize that the two professorial readers were not in agreement with my Th.M. thesis concerning the relationship of God's warnings and God's assurances. Nevertheless, they both recognized that their young Th.M. student was not behaving subversively. He denied neither the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints, which they both taught, nor the doctrines of election and justification. Yet, both expressed puzzlement, even frustration.

As the oral examination came to a close, there was tension in the air. This was hardly the way that I had anticipated to close out work on a Th.M. Yet, it seemed to fit following the extra work that came to both my wife and me when the only copy of the first draft of the thesis had been stolen and never returned to us. It became evident that the two professors were rather stymied as they began to speak to one another, attempting to sort out their bewilderment. Their deliberation in my presence showed that they did not agree with me but that they also did not understand my thesis. It was as though they had no categories by which to assess my exegetical, biblical, and theological work. They recognized that I was neither an Arminian nor a Wesleyan. Yet, I did not fit their concept of a Calvinist. They expressed as much. Eventually they asked me to leave the room while they deliberated alone. In the end, they both signed my thesis and I graduated.

I do not know whether either of my two professors eventually came to understand my position or came to agree with me. I did gain their respect after that intensive Th.M. thesis examination, and I greatly appreciated this. Their disagreement did not prevent them from graduating me. They also never lost my respect. I learned so much from both of them.

One of my readers died much too prematurely several years ago. I occasionally see my other reader at professional conferences, though he has been retired from teaching for a few years. Whenever we have an opportunity to meet together, our meeting is always warm and cordial.