Election*
By B.B. Warfield
“By grace have ye been
saved,” says Paul to the Ephesians (Eph. ii. 5, 8); and so important
does it seem to him that his readers shall understand this and bear it
on their hearts that he says it twice in the course of four verses. He
says it in such a way, moveover, as to throw a tremendous emphasis on
the word “grace,” and therefore on the manner in which they had been
saved, as distinguished from the salvation itself. He is not assuring
the Ephesians that they had been saved. They knew that for themselves,
and were rejoicing in this wonderful thing which had come to them. What
he is eagerly repeating to them, intent on fixing it so firmly in their
hearts that they cannot escape from it for a moment, is that it is just
“by grace” that they have been saved.
He is engaged in this context in reminding his readers of the greatness
of their salvation. They had been dead in their trespasses and their
sins, children of wrath by nature, like the rest of men. But God is
rich in mercy and has loved them mightily. Because of this his great
love for them, he has come to them, lying helplessly dead in their
sins, and has made them alive in Christ. Here the apostle breaks in on
himself to cry, for the first time, “By grace have ye been saved”! God
has raised them with Christ and seated them with him in the heavenly
places, for no other reason than that he might show forth in the ages
to come the surpassing riches of his grace, as manifested in this his
kindness to them in Christ Jesus, for — the apostle now adds with
iterant emphasis — “by grace have ye been saved.”
We see that the apostle is most eager to impress on his readers this
one fact, asserted and reasserted as the one thing needful for them to
keep fully in mind, that it is by grace that they have been saved; that
it is by grace, and nothing else than grace, that they have been saved.
In this reiterated phrase we have in effect the heart of the heart of
his gospel, to know which is our prime necessity if we are to know what
that gospel is. The whole gospel turns as upon its hinge on this fact,
that salvation is of pure grace.
There are, especially, three ideas which are conveyed by the word
“grace,” all of which must be given full validity if we are to
understand what the apostle was impressing with such earnestness upon
the Ephesians.
The first of them is the idea of power. Grace is power. And it is only
because grace is power that it can save, save dead men, men dead in
trespasses and sins. If men were not dead, possibly they might be saved
by something else than power. By good advice, say; by pointing out to
them something, some good thing, to do, by which they might inherit
eternal life. That is. what the law does. And that is why the law
cannot save, cannot, that is, save dead men. The law tells us what we
ought to do. Because the law is the law of God, perfect and holy and
just and good, it tells us perfectly what we ought to do. But it is of
no avail to tell dead men what they ought to do. Dead men cannot do
anything. They need not instruction but life; not good counsel but
power. That is the reason why Paul, when he is assuring the Romans that
the salvation which had been begun in them should certainly be
completed, hangs it all on the fact that they were not under law but
under grace. “Sin shall not have dominion over you,” he promises them —
and what a great promise that is! — “sin shall not have dominion over
you: for ye are not under law, but under grace” (Rom. vi. 14). If they
were under law, sin certainly would have dominion over them. Law can do
nothing but tell us what is right and what is wrong; and after that
there is nothing that it can do. It cannot enable us to do the right
and refuse the wrong which it has made known to us. But grace is power.
It does not instruct, it energizes; and what dead men need is
energizing, such energizing as raises the dead. Only God’s grace, which
is almighty power, can do that. It is, says Paul (Eph. i. 19, 20), the
same “working of the strength of his might which he wrought in Christ,
when he raised him from the dead.” This is the first idea which is
conveyed by the word “grace,” when we are told that it is by grace that
we have been saved. Grace is power, and because it is God’s grace, it
is almighty power.
The second idea conveyed by it is the idea of love. Grace is power. But
it is not bare power; “wild” power, as we say; power operating without
direction, producing any variety of effects. It is power directed by
love. That is the fundamental meaning of the word “grace” — favor,
love, yearning desire. And that is what grace always means, when it is
spoken of in the New Testament with reference to God. It always
expresses the idea of good will, kindness, favor, love. Power, in
itself considered, may blast as well as bless. The power that grace is,
always blesses, because grace is love. The grace of God is the power of
God, exerted in kindness; it is the love of God acting, according to
its nature, in blessing. And therefore, in the passage from Ephesians
which has been in our mind (Eph. ii. 1-10), it is because he is telling
his readers that it was due only to the riches of God’s mercy and “his
great love wherewith he loved us” that we are saved, that Paul is led
to interject suddenly in explanation of it all, “By grace have ye been
saved.” To be saved in the riches of God’s mercy because of the
greatness of his love — that is what it is to be saved by grace. For
the same reason, when Paul comes to speak, a little later, of the
manifestation of the exceeding riches of God’s grace in our salvation,
he explains that the precise thing in which these exceeding riches of
God’s grace are manifested, is “kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.”
Grace is manifested in kindness: to deal kindly with us is to deal
graciously with us. The second idea which is conveyed by the word
“grace,” when we are told that it is by grace that we are saved, then,
is that we owe our salvation purely to the love of God. Grace is love;
and because it is God’s grace by which we are saved, our salvation is a
pure product of the love of God.
The third idea conveyed by the word “grace” is the idea of
gratuitousness. Grace is gratuitous just because it is love, that is,
because it is the “love of benevolence,” as we say, the love that is
good will, kindness, favor. It is the very nature of the love that is
good will, kindness, favor, that it is gratuitous. We might do
something, perhaps, to attract to ourselves, to secure, to deserve the
“love of complacency,” that is to say, the kind of love that seeks and
finds gratification for itself in its object, rather than is intent
only on benefiting its object; that seeks its own pleasure in its
object rather than purely seeking to do it good. But that is not the
kind of love that grace is. Grace is the love that is good will,
kindness, favor, and the love that is good will, kindness, favor is in
the nature of the case gratuitous. At all events this is what the Bible
speaks of when it speaks of the grace of God. Paul, for instance, is at
great pains to make it clear that the grace of God is not earned by us,
is not secured by us, is not obtained by us; but is just given to us,
comes to us purely gratuitously. What is of grace, he tells us, is by
that very fact not of works; if it be in any way, in the slightest
measure, earned, by that very fact it ceases to be of grace (Rom. xi.
6). He carries the idea, indeed, to its extreme height. Grace, with
him, is not only pure kindness, kindness which has not been earned (had
it been earned, it would have ceased to be kindness), but kindness to
the undeserving in the positive sense, kindness to the ill-deserving.
Grace is very distinctly and very emphatically love to the
ill-deserving. This is the third idea which is conveyed by the word
“grace” when we are told that it is by grace that we have been saved.
Our salvation is a pure gratuity from God. We have not earned it; we
have not secured it; we have not obtained it. God has fixed upon us in
the riches of his mercy and the greatness of his unconstrained love,
pouring out upon us in the exceeding riches of his grace his pure
kindness in Christ Jesus.
This is then what Paul means when he tells us with reiterated emphasis
that it is by grace, by grace and nothing else than grace, that we have
been saved. He means that we have not saved ourselves. It is God who
has saved us, God and God alone. If we had saved ourselves, or supplied
anything whatever which entered into our salvation as in any measure
its procuring cause, it would not have been distinctively by grace that
we have been saved; and Paul’s strong emphasis on the assertion that it
is “by grace,” that it is by nothing else than grace, that we have been
saved would be misplaced. We were in point of fact dead in our
trespasses and sins and therefore utterly unable to move hand or foot
to seek salvation. We were helplessly and hopelessly “lost.” We owe our
salvation wholly to God’s kindness, to his undeserved love, to his
“grace.” It is all from him, in its beginning and middle and end: all
from him. Just as Lazarus was called out of the grave by the sheer
power of the God who raises the dead, we have been called out of our
death in trespasses and sins by the sheer grace of God, the grace which
is the power of God, working under the direction of his ineffable love,
poured out in gratuitous kindness upon ill-deserving sinners. We have
not made the first step in knowledge of the salvation of God until we
have learned, and made the very center of our thought of it, this great
fact: that it is by the pure grace of God, by that and that alone, that
we are saved. That, as we have said, is the heart of the heart of the
gospel.
Now, of course, no one will imagine that God, who saves us thus by his
almighty grace, has saved us by the exceeding greatness of his power to
us-ward according to that working of the strength of his might which he
wrought in Christ when he raised him from the dead, inadvertently,
without meaning to do so. Of course he has meant to save us, just as he
does save us, by his pure grace; and has meant thus to save us all
along. It is this, his meaning to save us by his grace before he
actually does so, which we call “election.” Election, we thus see, is
but the first moving of God’s grace looking to our salvation; and
therefore Paul calls it “the election of grace” (Rom. xi. 5), the
election, that is, which has its origin in the grace of God toward us,
which proceeds from it, comes out of it as its appropriate
manifestation. It is the first step of God’s love, as he prepares to
save us by his grace, the setting of his love upon us, that in its own
good time and way it may work its will on and in us. It is nothing, in
other words, but God’s purpose to save us, a purpose which he must, of
course, form before he saves us, and a purpose which equally of course
he fulfils in saving us. What God purposes he certainly performs, no
purpose of his is idle or ineffective. This, his purpose of salvation,
therefore becomes the sure beginning and pledge of our actual salvation
and draws in its train all else that enters into our salvation.
Read Rom. viii. 29, 30, and see “the golden chain” which, as a fine old
divine, John Arrowsmith, puts it, “God lets down from heaven that by it
he may draw up his elect thither.” “For whom he foreknew” — that is
election, the setting upon his people with distinguishing
pre-occupation and love, according to the pregnant use of “know” in
such a passage say, as Amos iii. 2, “You only have I known out of all
the families of the earth”
— “for whom he foreknew, he also foreordained to be conformed to the
image of his Son” — this is the high destiny prepared for us! — “that
he might be the firstborn among many brethren: and whom he
foreordained, them he also called: and whom he called, them he also
justified: and whom he justified, them he also glorified.” Count these
five golden links, all acts of God’s own, working our salvation, and
note how they are welded together in one unbreakable chain, so that all
who are set upon in God’s gracious distinguishing view are carried on
by his grace, step by step, up to the great consummation of that
glorification which realizes the promised conformity to the image of
God’s own Son. It is “election,” you see, that does all this; for “whom
he foreknew, . . . them he also glorified.” That fine old divine to
whom we have just referred tells us further that “election, having once
pitched upon a man, will find him out and call him home, wherever he
be. Zacchaeus out of cursed Jericho; Abraham out of idolatrous Ur of
the Chaldeans; Nicodemus and Paul out of the college of the Pharisees,
Christ’s sworn enemies; Dionysius and Damaris, out of superstitious
Athens. In whatever dunghill God’s jewels be hid, election will both
find them out there and fetch them out from thence.” “Rejoice,” our
Savior cried (Luke x. 20), “rejoice in this — that your names are
written in heaven,” in, that is, the Lamb’s book of life (Rev. xxi.
27), which the same fine old divine counsels us always to remember, is
“a book of love — the writing of our names in which is the firstborn of
all God’s favors.”
That God has set upon just us in this his electing grace, must ever be
to us a matter of adoring wonder. Certain it is, that there was nothing
in us, whether quality or deed, which could attract his favorable
notice, much less make him partial to us, and, moreover, there is no
respect of persons with God. We were dead, dead in trespasses and sins,
even as others, and therefore the children of wrath even as they (Eph.
ii. 1-3). “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all
ungodliness and unrighteousness of men” (Rom. i. 18); and surely there
has been enough ungodliness and unrighteousness in us. That God has
chosen just us from among our fellows to be saved from this wrath, 1
Thess. v. 9, finds no explanation in us. We can only say, “Yea, Father,
for so it was well-pleasing in thy sight” (Matt. xi. 26). It has all
hung upon his mere good pleasure, and he has given us this unspeakable
blessing for no other reason than that he has chosen to give it to us
in the unsearchable counsels of his own gracious will. For, as our fine
old divine reminds us, we are “predestinated after the counsel of his
own will, not after the good inclinations of ours.” We had no good
inclinations of will; men dead in trespasses and sins have no good
inclinations. All that is good in us, in the inclinations of our wills
as in the conduct of our lives, is from him, the product of his
electing grace, and cannot be its cause. It is only because God has set
upon us in his inexplicable love, and has predestinated us to be
conformed to the image of his Son, that, through his calling, and
justifying, and sanctifying grace — all in execution of his gracious
election — any good is formed in us. It is not “of works,” says Paul
(Eph. ii. 9, 10), that we are saved but “for good works”; and he adds
that, in order that we may do these good works, we have needed to be
made over, and that by so profoundly revolutionary a change that we can
be looked upon as nothing less than a new creation — “for we are his
workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works,” the good works
which God has afore prepared that we should walk in them.
The very good works which we do, then, have been prepared for us by God
in his electing grace, that we should walk in them. We are not chosen
because we are good; we are chosen that we may be good. That is
precisely what we are elected to — goodness, holiness. And that again
is what is meant by the declaration that we have been predestinated to
be conformed to the attract his favorable notice, much less make him
partial to us, and, moreover, there is no respect of persons with God.
We were dead, dead in trespasses and sins, even as others, and
therefore the children of wrath even as they (Eph. ii. 1-3). “For the
wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and
unrighteousness of men” (Rom. i. 18); and surely there has been enough
ungodliness and unrighteousness in us. That God has chosen just us from
among our fellows to be saved from this wrath, 1 Thess. v. 9, finds no
explanation in us. We can only say, “Yea, Father, for so it was
well-pleasing in thy sight” (Matt. xi. 26). It has all hung upon his
mere good pleasure, and he has given us this unspeakable blessing for
no other reason than that he has chosen to give it to us in the
unsearchable counsels of his own gracious will. For, as our fine old
divine reminds us, we are “predestinated after the counsel of his own
will, not after the good inclinations of ours.” We had no good
inclinations of will; men dead in trespasses and sins have no good
inclinations. All that is good in us, in the inclinations of our wills
as in the conduct of our lives, is from him, the product of his
electing grace, and cannot be its cause. It is only because God has set
upon us in his inexplicable love, and has predestinated us to be
conformed to the image of his Son, that, through his calling, and
justifying, and sanctifying grace — all in execution of his gracious
election — any good is formed in us. It is not “of works,” says Paul
(Eph. ii. 9, 10), that we are saved but “for good works”; and he adds
that, in order that we may do these good works, we have needed to be
made over, and that by so profoundly revolutionary a change that we can
be looked upon as nothing less than a new creation — “for we are his
workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works,” the good works
which God has afore prepared that we should walk in them.
The very good works which we do, then, have been prepared for us by God
in his electing grace, that we should walk in them. We are not chosen
because we are good; we are chosen that we may be good. That is
precisely what we are elected to — goodness, holiness. And that again
is what is meant by the declaration that we have been predestinated to
be conformed to theimage of God’s Son: we can become like him only as
we become holy. Accordingly we are told with the richest fulness of
expression (Eph. i. 3, 4), that God chose us “in Christ . . . before
the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blemish
before him. . . having foreordained us unto adoption as sons through
Jesus Christ unto himself, according to the good pleasure of his will,
to the praise of the glory of his grace.” It is all here — the rooting
of all our goodness in the elective decree of God, and the rooting of
that decree in God’s mere good pleasure. Everything else hangs on
election, election itself on God alone. But what is especially
emphasized is that what God has chosen us to, in this electing decree,
is that we should be holy.
It follows, therefore, that those whom God has set upon in his electing
grace, certainly shall be holy. This is what he has chosen them to —
that they shall be holy. And, having chosen them to be holy, he has not
left them to themselves, but, in his infinite grace, has taken them in
hand to make them holy. That is why he has predestinated them to be
conformed to the image of his Son, and then in pursuance of this
destination of them, called them and justified them and sanctified
them, yea, and will glorify them. These are the several processes
through which he frames them into the holiness to which he has chosen
them. They are not shallow processes, moving only on the surface and
depending on our independent cooperation to produce their effects, and
therefore liable to fail because of our weaknesses and sins. In these
processes God remakes us and therefore we emerge from them his
workmanship, created unto the good works which he has “afore prepared
that we should walk in them.” It is wholly of God that we are in Christ
Jesus (1 Cor. i. 30; 2 Cor. v. 18); and being in Christ Jesus, we are
new creatures (2 Cor. v. 17), the old things have passed away and all
things have become new. As, under the molding hand of God, we are being
thus renewed in the spirit of our minds, we put off more and more the
old man and “put on the new man, that after God hath been created in
righteousness and holiness of truth” (Eph. iv. 24), we rejoice with
trembling, because surely we see that the Lord is in this place. Full
of joy, because we perceive the hand of God upon us, working in us both
the willing and the doing, we “work out our own salvation with fear and
trembling” (Phil. ii. 12) — that is to say, not with hesitation and
doubt lest it may not be real, but with overmastering awe that it
should be so with us, that God should be the impulsive cause of all of
both our willing and doing.
It is precisely in this that we have the salvation of our God. For it
is in this that the salvation to which we have been chosen consists:
that we should be God’s workmanship, created unto the good works which
God has “afore prepared that we should walk in them”; that we should be
holy; that we should be conformed to the image of God’s Son. Of course,
when we are like Christ we are saved men. Certainly we do not yet see
all that is included in this high destiny. But we already know that
when he shall be manifested, “we shall be like him” (1 John iii. 2).
And having this hope in us, we purify ourselves, “even as he is pure”
(1 John iii. 3). Our eyes are set on the goal; and we run with
steadfastness the race that is set before us, “looking unto Jesus the
author and perfecter of our faith” (Heb. xii. 1), looking unto him not
only as he who has framed the faith in us by which we live in him, and
who will perfect it to the end, but also as the model to which we shall
be conformed. For what we shall attain to in this salvation is nothing
less than “the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.” The glory that he has
shall be ours. And the way we shall attain to it is “in sanctification
of the Spirit and belief of the truth.” For this, says Paul (2 Thess.
ii. 13), is what God chose us to from the beginning — “salvation in
sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth.” And to this, he
adds, God also called us — “to the obtaining of the glory of our Lord
Jesus Christ.” All that is contained in this glory which Christ
possesses, and which we shall in him obtain, who can tell? No doubt we
must cast our eyes forward to the world to come to see it all. When he
shall be manifested, “we shall be like him.” But when we obtain it all,
it is still the salvation to which God chose us from the beginning, “in
sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth.” These are the
means through which that is reached.
Clearly God has not chosen us to sloth. The salvation to which he has
chosen us is a salvation “in sanctification of the Spirit and belief of
the truth.” We have not been chosen to any salvation which does not
stand in sanctification by the Spirit and faith in the truth. If we do
not believe the truth, if we are not being sanctified by the Spirit, we
have been chosen to no salvation. What we have been chosen to is that
we should be holy and without blemish before God. We cannot profess to
be chosen of God, then, unless we are becoming holy and without blemish
before him. It is not possible that there should be an “elect race”
which is not also a “holy nation” — a holy nation which shows forth the
excellencies of him who has called us “out of darkness into his
marvelous light” (1 Peter ii. 9). Seeing that predestination is
conformity to the image of God’s Son, we are not predestinated unless
we are being conformed to the image of God’s Son. Unless we are like
Christ, we cannot share in his glory. It is idle then to dream,
profanely, that, being elected to bliss, we may be careless of good
works. Precisely what God has prepared for his elect is good works that
they shall walk in them, whereunto, in his grace, he has created them.
Precisely what he requires of them who believe his gracious assurances,
is, therefore, that they “be careful to maintain good works,” in order
that they may give a good account of themselves in the world (Titus
iii. 8). Faith and good works are the characteristics of God’s elect,
and where faith and good works are not, there are no elect.
There is no election, then, to the rewards of glory which does not
include in itself, as the indispensable means to this end, election to
the works of grace. We are not elected in order to dispense us from the
necessity of being good. We are elected to make it possible for us to
be good, yea, rather, to make it certain that we shall be good, not
apart from but through our own efforts. We are not elected that we may
not have to fight the good fight, but to secure that we shall fight it
to the end, fight it successfully, and so finish the course; not that
we may not require to keep the faith, but that we may, that we shall,
keep it triumphantly and receive the crown. We are not released by our
election from the duties and struggles and strifes, not even from the
trials and sufferings, of life: we are elected to be sustained in them
and carried safely through them all. Another good old divine, John
Davenant, therefore wisely instructs us that “Whosoever understandeth
this doctrine aright, understandeth withal that he was elected not
straight to be carried unto heaven on a bed of down, but to become
conformable to the Head of the elect, Christ Jesus, as well in the
cross as in the crown, and first in the cross, after in the crown.”
Yea, he adds, “afflictions therefore do not only not tire the patience
of the elect, but they beget within them a secret spiritual joy. For,
being afflicted, they rejoice and, as Luther says, ‘embrace their
sufferings like relics consecrated by the touch of Christ.’”
Accordingly, Peter exhorts us (2 Peter i. 10), to make our “calling and
election sure” precisely by diligence in good works. He does not mean
that by good works we may secure from God a decree of election in our
behalf. He means that by expanding the germ of spiritual life which we
have received from God into its full efflorescence, by “working out”
our salvation, of course not without Christ but in Christ, we can make
ourselves sure that we have really received the election to which we
make claim. The salvation of God, being a “salvation in sanctification
of the Spirit,” ought, when worked out, to manifest itself in such
forms as faith, virtue, knowledge, temperance, patience, godliness,
brotherly love, love. By working out the salvation which we have
received into such a symphony of good works we make sure that it is the
very salvation to which God has chosen his people. Good works become
thus the mark and test of election, and, when taken in the
comprehensive sense in which Peter is here thinking of them, they are
the only marks and tests of election. We can never know that we are
elected of God to eternal life except by manifesting in our lives the
fruits of election — faith and virtue, knowledge and temperance,
patience and godliness, love of the brethren, and that essential love
which does not put limits to its object. He that gives diligence to
cultivating such things in his life will not stumble in the way, for it
is with such things in their hands that men enter the eternal Kingdom
of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. It is idle to seek assurance of
election outside of holiness of life. Precisely what God chose his
people to before the foundations of the world was that they should be
holy. Holiness, because it is the necessary product, is therefore the
sure sign of election. All holy people are the elect of God and are
sure of eternal life.
It is folly, therefore, to fancy that a sincere lover of Jesus Christ
who trusts in him as his Savior and lovingly obeys him as his Lord, can
possibly lack the election of God. It is only because he is one of
God’s elect that he can believe in Christ for the salvation of his
soul, and follow after Christ in the conduct of his life. This is
precisely what election brings with it — the calling to Christ which
cannot fail, justification which frees us from our guilt, and
sanctification which conforms us to Christ, and all that that implies.
It marks out those in the loving prevision of God whom his almighty
grace shall raise out of their death in sin, to the powers of that new
life in which and in which alone they embrace Jesus Christ as their
all-sufficient Savior and live in and for him. It is impossible that a
believer in Christ should not be elected of God, because it is only by
the election of God that one becomes a believer in Christ. Election is
nothing but the preparation of grace, and grace is nothing but the
loving operation of God unto salvation. Wherever there is salvation,
then, there is, of course, grace, since grace alone can save, and
wherever there is grace there is of course election, since grace hangs
on election. We need not, we must not, seek elsewhere for proof of our
election: if we believe in Christ and obey him, we are his elect
children.
Certainly it is equally true that where no election is, neither is
there salvation. Since all the salvation there is, is of grace, and
grace is of election, there is of course no salvation where there is no
election. But this does not mean that election excludes from salvation.
What election does and all that election does, is to bring into
salvation. It is not where it is, but only where it is not, that
salvation fails. Wherever it is, there salvation is — certain, sure,
complete salvation. Salvation is its sole work. When Christ stood at
the door of Lazarus’ tomb and cried, “Lazarus, come forth!” only
Lazarus, of all the dead that lay in the gloom of the grave that day in
Palestine, or throughout the world, heard his mighty voice which raises
the dead, and came forth. Shall we say that the election of Lazarus to
be called forth from the tomb consigned all this immense multitude of
the dead to hopeless, physical decay? It left them no doubt in the
death in which they were holden and to all that comes out of this
death. But it was not it which brought death upon them, or which kept
them under its power. When God calls out of the human race, lying dead
in their trespasses and sins, some here, some there, some everywhere, a
great multitude which no man can number, to raise them by his almighty
grace out of their death in sin and bring them to glory, his electing
grace is glorified in the salvation it works. It has nothing to do with
the death of the sinner, but only with the living again of the sinner
whom it calls into life. The one and single work of election is
salvation.
We may ask, no doubt, why God does not extend his saving grace to all;
and why, if he sends it to some only, he sends it to just those some to
whom he sends it rather than to others. These are not wise questions to
ask. We might ask why Christ raised Lazarus only of all that lay dead
that day in Palestine, or in the world. No doubt reasons may suggest
themselves why he raised Lazarus. But why Lazarus only? If we threw the
reins on the neck of imagination, we might possibly discover reasons
enough why he might well have raised others, too, with Lazarus, perhaps
many others, perhaps all the dead throughout the whole world. Doubtless
he had his reasons for doing on that great day precisely what he did.
No doubt God has his reasons, too, for doing just what he does with his
electing grace. Perhaps we may divine some of them. No doubt there are
others which we do not divine. Better leave it to him, and content
ourselves. facing, in the depths of our ignorance and our sin-bred lack
of comprehension, these tremendous realities, with the O altitudo of
Paul: “O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and the knowledge
of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past tracing
out!” Or may we not even rise to the great consenting “Yea!” which
Christ has taught us: “Yea, Father, for so it was well-pleasing in thy
sight!” After all, men are sinners and grace is wonderful. The marvel
of marvels is not that God, in his infinite love, has not elected all
of this guilty race to be saved, but that he has elected any. What
really needs accounting for — though to account for it passes the
powers of our extremest flights of imagination — is how the holy God
could get the consent of his nature to save a single sinner. If we know
what sin is, and what holiness is, and what salvation from sin to
holiness is, that is what we shall feel.
That is the reason why meditation on our eternal election produces such
blessed fruits in our hearts and lives. That God has saved me, even me,
sunk in my sin and misery, by the marvels of his grace, can only fill
me with adoring praise. That he has set upon me from all eternity to
save me, wretched sinner that I am — how can I express the holy joy
that fills my heart at every remembrance of it! This is the foundation
of all my comfort, the assurance of all my hope. “Sure I am,” says John
Arrowsmith movingly, just to the point, “Sure I am that our blessed
Savior once said to his disciples, ‘In this rejoice, that your names
are written in heaven’; and that nothing doth more inflame a
Christian’s love than a firm belief of his personal election from
eternity, after he has been able to evidence the writing of his name in
heaven by the experience he hath had of an heavenly calling and an
heavenly conversation. When the Spirit of God hath written the law of
life in a Christian’s heart, and therewith enabled him to know
assuredly that his name is written in the book of life, he cannot then
but melt with flames of holy affection, according to the most emphatic
speech of Bernard — ‘God deserveth love from such as he hath loved long
before they could deserve it’; and, ‘his love to God will be without
end, who knoweth that God’s love to him was without any beginning.’”
For this is the beginning and middle and end of the whole matter: that
the election of God is but the beginning of God’s manifestation of love
to lost sinners, a beginning which must go before all other
manifestations of his love because the purpose must precede the
execution, and which carries all other manifestations with it because
God never repents of his purposes but executes them.
* First published as a
pamphlet by the Presbyterian Board of Publication in 1918.