“Three times a year all your males shall appear before the Lord your God in the place which He chooses: at the Feast of Unleavened Bread, at the Feast of Weeks, and at the Feast of Tabernacles; and they shall not appear before the Lord empty-handed” —Deut. 16:16.

In the previous installment, we examined the arguments drawn directly from Exodus 12 and showed that the text itself does not support the exclusion of covenant children from the Passover.

But lest we lose the forest for the trees, we must remember that the real question is not about the Passover. It is about the Lord’s Supper, and whether baptized covenant children are to be admitted to the Table. And because the Lord’s Supper stands in continuity with the Passover, that question is not incidental.

If circumcised children were excluded from the Passover, it would provide a natural basis for excluding baptized children from the Supper as well.

That’s why, in a very real way, the battle is first over the Passover.

So at this point, a different argument is often made (to exclude both children and women from the Passover), and because it is so frequently raised, it deserves to be stated and refuted as clearly and fairly as possible.

In a 1988 paper entitled The Paedocommunion Controversy, Reverend Ron Potter argues that a significant change in Passover legislation took place subsequent to its Egyptian celebration. This means that even if it could be shown that children partook of the first Passover, that change rules out their participation in the land, and with it any basis for their admission to the Lord’s Table.

On page 12 he writes:

“The Passover in Sinai had clearly undergone a transformation… We observe from Exodus 23:14–17 that males only were to appear before the LORD at the three instituted feasts, one of which was the Passover.”

On page 15 he writes:

“In Deuteronomy 16:16–17 the legislation of Exodus 23 is restated. Males only (v. 16) who are recipients of God’s blessing on their productivity (v. 17) are to participate.”

The position outlined by Reverend Potter is an application of the Regulative Principle of Worship (RPW). Without getting into the finer distinctions (between elements and circumstances), the Heidelberg Catechism gives us a good working definition of this rule. In Question 96 it teaches that we are not to worship God “in any other way than He has commanded us in His word.” This rule is very different from what is often called the “normative principle,” which says that something is lawful unless God forbids it. To the contrary, the RPW says that something is unlawful unless God commands it.

By appealing to this principle, Reverend Potter makes clear what he is arguing. Namely, that it was unlawful for women and children to partake of the Passover, since in the later legislation they are not commanded to do so.

On the surface, that argument carries a certain weight. But in my judgment, it ends up creating more problems than it solves, especially when it’s applied with precision and consistency.

The danger with Reverend Potter’s argument is that the command in these passages is about who “appears” at the feast, not who “eats” at the feast, as Keil & Delitzsch make clear in their commentary:

“The command to appear, i.e. to make a pilgrimage to the sanctuary, was restricted to the male members of the nation, probably to those above 20 years of age.” 1

If that is the case, then applying the RPW to this issue renders all voluntary pilgrimages to the Passover unlawful. It places anyone who attends the feast without being commanded to do so in violation of God’s word, since it violates the very principle of biblical worship being invoked (the RPW).

The real problem is that Scripture explicitly tells us that not only Mary “went up to Jerusalem every year at the Feast of the Passover,” but also that Jesus himself went up as early as “twelve years old” (Lk. 2:41–42). To be consistent, then, Reverend Potter would have to affirm that both Mary and (God forbid!) the Lord Jesus were guilty of this transgression (since he was not yet 20 years of age).

This would be rank blasphemy, as it would strip Christ of his sinless obedience, disqualify him as the spotless Lamb, and collapse the entire gospel. For if Jesus broke the law even once, he could not have died in our place. (I will deal with Luke 2 and Jesus’ so-called first Passover in the next post).

But perhaps this is why those who use this form of argumentation feel the need to adjust it at the end. They see the necessary consequence of a precise application of the RPW to this matter, and so they turn to avoid it.

Reverend Potter writes:

“It must be pointed out that this male-only-to-the-sanctuary command did not necessarily prohibit women and children from accompanying the male head of the household to the Passover. But presence is not participation and the legislation is directed to who is to participate.” (p. 12)

With all due respect to Reverend Potter, this is what we call a bait and switch. He begins by appealing to texts that regulate attendance at the feast (who is commanded to appear) but then shifts the argument to participation in the feast (who is permitted to eat).

And he is not alone in making this move. In a recent reprint of his 2006 publication, now entitled Toddlers at the Table, Reverend Jim West does the same thing.

On page 28 he writes:

“Would it have been disobedient for a woman to partake of the pilgrim Passover that was celebrated later when Israel occupied the land? Yes, since they were not commanded.”

This, too, is a case of bait and switch. It is not just that women (and children) received no command to partake; they also received no command to attend. So the logic presses the issue: either their attendance was unlawful, or the argument cannot be sustained. This brings us to the second problem.

Another problem with this argument is that a consistent application of it proves too much. Even if we agree with the previous application, we are still faced with an important question. Leaving aside the children for the moment, on what basis are women now allowed to partake of the Lord’s Supper?

Why is it that those who claim women were excluded from the Passover simply because they were not commanded to participate, do not also exclude them from the Lord’s Supper for the very same reason?

It’s true that we find no command for them to partake of the Passover, but where do we find such a command for the Table?

This amounts to the fallacy of “special pleading” and leaves us with a choice between two possible options. Either we can (1) be consistent and bar women from the Lord’s Table, or (2) drop the argument altogether. But we cannot have it both ways; we cannot have our bread and eat it too.

Anyone familiar with Reformed Theology will know that we use the same argument to challenge the anti-paedobaptist. When our Baptist friends say that infants are not to be baptized “because the Bible nowhere commands it” we typically respond by exposing their inconsistency regarding the other sacrament.

For example, in his Systematic Theology, Louis Berkhof writes,

“This objection is based on a canon of interpretation to which the Baptists themselves are not true when they hold that women must also partake of the Lord’s Supper.”

Whether Berkhof would have admitted it or not, his response applies just as much to those who say that children should not partake of the Lord’s Supper simply because the Bible nowhere commands it.

And this brings us back to the heart of the matter. In the Reformed doctrine of paedocommunion, the admission of women and children to the Lord’s Supper rests on a point of continuity between the old covenant and the new.

Since they partook of the old covenant meal, they have the continuing right to partake of the new covenant meal, even in the absence of an explicit command.

But if Reverend Potter is right that women and children were removed from the Passover under the later legislation, then that continuity was broken, and we are left with no basis for their participation in the Supper at all.

Is there a better interpretation of Deuteronomy 16 (cf. Exod. 23)? One that does not lead to heretical notions or further, unnecessary division at the Lord’s Table by excluding our women and children?

The answer is, Yes, and to summarize that interpretation we can say:

It is better to argue that the post-Exodus legislation was meant to supplement the previous legislation, not replace it.

By the time the Israelites received the additional legislation of Exodus 23 and Deuteronomy 16, they had already celebrated the Passover according to the original instructions given in Exodus 12 (that same night in Egypt, Exod. 12:28, and again in the wilderness, Num. 9:1-5). In both cases, the women and children were included.

Therefore, lest we disregard the historical precedent and commit the hermeneutical fallacy of "repetitionism" (the notion that God must repeat his commands for them to remain in force), we should assume a default posture of continuity, obeying all he has commanded in the past unless he repeals it.

This hermeneutical rule is different from the one our opponents use, but it is simple to understand:

    Whatever continues does not need to be repeated; whatever discontinues must be explicitly repealed.

When we apply this rule, which according to Greg Bahnsen is the core operating principle of covenant theology, (2) we begin to see clearly what is happening, and what is not happening, in the legislation of passages such as Deuteronomy 16.

First, what is happening with the Passover (Deut. 16:1–8)

In verses 1–8, the LORD didn’t mention who was to be included in the Passover because he already made that clear in Exodus 12 that there was to be a lamb for every “household” and that the “all the congregation” was to keep the feast (Exod. 12:3-4, 47).

The primary purpose of this additional legislation, then, was not to remove participants, but to notify the people about what was being changed. Namely, that there would now be a centralized location. The Passover would no longer be celebrated in their homes.

Deuteronomy 16:2, 5–7

“You shall sacrifice the Passover to the Lord your God in the place where the Lord chooses to put His name… You may not sacrifice the Passover within any of your gates; but at the place where the Lord your God chooses to make His name abide, there you shall sacrifice the Passover… And you shall roast and eat it in the place which the Lord your God chooses.”

Second, what is happening with the other two feasts (Deut. 16:9–15)

Because God was now introducing the Feast of Weeks (vv. 9–12) and the Feast of Tabernacles (vv. 13–15), he had to be clear about who was to participate in them, just as he was with Passover back in Exodus 12. Therefore, he made it clear (and explicit) that in these feasts, women and children were also to be included.

Deuteronomy 16:10–11

“Then you shall keep the Feast of Weeks… And you shall rejoice before the LORD your God: you and your son and your daughter.”

Deuteronomy 16:14–15

“You shall observe the Feast of Tabernacles… And you shall rejoice in your feast: you and your son and your daughter.”

Some have sought to reject this interpretation and defend Reverend Potter's position instead. Pastor Sam Ketcham, for example, appeals to the meaning of the term "appear" and argues that the male-only command to appear at the Passover meant that only males were to "participate directly in the ordinance."

Apparently (and I’m no scholar), the Hebrew verb behind "appear" is רָאָה (raʾah) in the Niphal stem, and the same form is used in 1 Samuel 1:22, where Hannah brings Samuel to "appear before the LORD" in formal cultic presentation at the sanctuary.

On this reading, then, "appearing" at the feast is not mere attendance but formal covenantal transaction. And since the Mosaic legislation consistently runs covenantal representation through the male head of the household, it would be fitting for active participation in the Passover to be restricted to the men, with women and children present but not formally partaking.

In response, I would make a few observations.

First, cross-referencing 1 Samuel 1 is not a good move for the anti-paedocommunionist, since verses 21–22 show that Samuel was no more than three years old when he “appeared” before the LORD in Shiloh.

“Elkanah and all his house went up to offer to the LORD the yearly sacrifice and his vow. But Hannah did not go up, for she said to her husband, Not until the child is weaned; then I will take him that he may appear before the LORD.”

Moreover, this appearing of the child included his eating of the family’s annual sacrifice. We learn from verse 4 that Elkanah’s yearly practice was to distribute portions of the offering to his whole household:

“And whenever the time came for Elkanah to make an offering, he would give portions to Peninnah his wife and to all her sons and daughters.”

And when Hannah finally brought Samuel up after weaning, the text makes clear that he was brought into that same family meal:

“Now when she had weaned him, she took him up with her, with three bulls, one ephah of flour, and a skin of wine, and brought him to the house of the LORD in Shiloh. And the child was young. Then they slaughtered a bull, and brought the child to Eli... So they worshiped the LORD there.” (1 Sam. 1:24–25, 28)

In other words, the very passage Pastor Ketcham appeals to in order to establish a male-only, adult-only definition of “appear” turns out to be a textbook case of paedocommunion. A three-year-old child appears before the LORD at the central sanctuary and partakes of the sacrificial meal with his family.

Second, and more importantly, I would caution against leaning too heavily on etymology, since biblical terms are not univocal (having a single meaning) but equivocal (having a semantic range), so that the precise meaning of any term is ultimately determined by the context in which it is used.

My question, then, is this: what about the appearing in Deuteronomy 16:16, or its context, should lead us to conclude that it refers only to partaking of the Passover meal?

“Three times a year all your males shall appear before the LORD your God in the place which he chooses: at the Feast of Unleavened Bread, at the Feast of Weeks, and at the Feast of Tabernacles.” (Deut. 16:16)

While I believe that is a fair question, I would hasten to add that even if Pastor Ketcham's specific definition applies to this text, it ironically rules out the very conclusion he wishes to establish. In fact, it only strengthens the case for paedocommunion. Here is how.

In this passage, all the males are commanded to “appear” before the LORD three times a year: at the Feast of Unleavened Bread (Passover), at the Feast of Weeks (Pentecost), and at the Feast of Booths (Tabernacles). Yet the fact that all three appearances are governed by a single use of this word tells us that appearing at the Passover is no different than appearing at the other two feasts.

In other words, Pastor Ketcham’s argument is yet another case of special pleading. The same word governs all three feasts, yet he loads it with one meaning for the Passover and another for Pentecost and Tabernacles. But if “appear” means “participate,” then either women and children were excluded at every feast, or they participated at every feast. He cannot have it both ways.

And because the context explicitly commands the participation of women and children at Pentecost and Tabernacles (cf. Deut. 16:11, 14), the conclusion is unavoidable: they were also commanded to participate in the Passover.

But now, let me answer the question directly. If all of God’s people were welcome at his three annual feasts, why did he issue the command to the men alone?

The first reason is covenantal headship.

This is not a Mosaic innovation but a creational principle, woven into the very structure of the world.

Adam stood as the federal head of the human race (Rom. 5:12–19), and from that pattern flows every subsequent covenantal arrangement. The husband stands as the head of his wife (Eph. 5:23), the father as the head of his children, and the male head of household as the representative of his family before God.

So when Noah entered the ark, his household entered with him (Gen. 7:1). When Abraham received the sign of circumcision, his whole house received it through him (Gen. 17). When the Passover lamb was killed in Egypt, it was the head of the house who applied the blood to the doorposts on behalf of his family (Exod. 12:7).

And when Deuteronomy 16:16 commands the males to appear before the LORD three times a year, it follows the same creational pattern: the male bears the public covenantal duty of standing before God on behalf of the household.

The wife and children appear with him and are represented by him, but the obligation rests on his shoulders.

The second reason is gracious accommodation.

We may be looking at a careful distinction between rights and requirements, since the Passover was now tied to pilgrimage. When the place of celebration changed from the homes of the people to a new, centralized location, that shift brought a number of practical difficulties for families traveling long distances. A nursing mother, a small child, an aged grandmother, none of them could be expected to make the journey to the central sanctuary three times a year without hardship.

Therefore, the LORD made a gracious provision: only males twenty years old and above were required to attend.

The rest of the household was excused from the obligation but not stripped of the privilege.

In this way, the additional legislation of Deuteronomy 16 was not designed to remove women and children from the covenant meal but to accommodate their needs as a covenant household on pilgrimage.

And this is precisely what we should expect from a God who is the Father of his people. Throughout Scripture, the LORD makes provision for the weak even as he lays his commands on the strong:

• He accommodates Moses by giving him a brother to speak for him when Moses pleads his slow tongue (Exod. 4:14–16).
• He commands the gleaners to leave grain in the corners of the field for the poor and the stranger (Lev. 19:9–10).
• He excuses the new husband from military service for a year so that he may bring joy to his wife (Deut. 24:5).
• He builds into the Sabbath, the most strictly guarded ordinance of the old covenant, provisions for human need: the hungry may pluck grain (Matt. 12:1–8), the wounded may be healed (Matt. 12:11–12), and the donkey fallen into a pit may be lifted out (Lk. 14:5).
• He permits David and his men to eat the showbread that was lawful only for priests (1 Sam. 21:1–6, Matt. 12:3–4), because ceremonial law always bends to moral law.

The whole law is shot through with this kind of pastoral provision.

So when the LORD restricts the pilgrimage obligation to the males twenty years and older, he is doing what he has always done. He distinguishes between what is required of the strong and what is welcomed from the weak. He honors the head of the household by laying the obligation on his shoulders, and he honors the whole household by inviting them to come and rejoice with him.

So when we read Deuteronomy 16:16 in the light of Deuteronomy 16:1–15 and the original legislation of Exodus 12, the picture comes into full focus.

The men were commanded to appear. The women and children were welcomed to come. And all of them, together as a covenant household, partook of the meal.

"And it shall be, when your children say to you, What do you mean by this service? that you shall say, It is the Passover sacrifice of the LORD, who passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt when He struck the Egyptians and delivered our households”

—Exodus 12:26–27

In traditional Reformed churches, the Lord’s Supper is withheld from a covenant child until he can sustain a satisfactory examination by the elders regarding the genuineness of his faith. In some churches, even before that child has access to such an exam, he is required to fulfill a prerequisite condition: he must memorize and recite all 129 questions and answers of the Heidelberg Catechism. Of course, that usually means that the child is no longer a child by the time he makes it to the Lord’s Table.

To be clear, I am not arguing against the practice of catechetical training. In fact, I believe that one of the great tragedies of our day is that the regular, didactic use of the Reformed confessions and catechisms has been neglected by churches and families alike, and the results have been devastating, to say the least.

The question here is not about using catechisms. The question is about exactly how a catechism should and should not be used. To state it clearly:

Do we have the authority to exclude a covenant child from the covenant meal until he has completed the catechetical program of our churches?

For many, the basis for this practice arises from how participation in the Passover was understood within the Reformed tradition, reaching back as far as John Calvin himself.

For example, when Calvin concluded from Exodus 12:26 that the Passover was eaten “only by those who were of a sufficient age to inquire into its meaning” (Institutes, 4.16.30), a certain application naturally followed. If what Calvin said is true, then it stands to reason that those who participate in the Lord’s Supper should have to meet the same requirement. To be sure, Calvin was not the only theologian who understood the Passover in this way. Nevertheless, his influence on those who came after him should not be underestimated, and for many, his interpretation gives weight and confidence to their position.

What, then, is the actual line of reasoning that flows from Calvin’s statement? When the argument is drawn out, it typically proceeds along fairly straightforward lines.

• First, the dialogue mentioned in Exodus 12:26–27 is presented in a question-and-answer format.

That matters, because answering questions is a form of catechetical instruction.

• Second, it is emphasized that the dialogue itself was commanded by the LORD.

That too is significant. If this exchange was one of the prescribed features of the Passover meal, then we are already looking at a strong case against the notion that young children were full participants in the feast.

Why is that? Because this kind of exercise requires a certain level of maturity and spiritual discernment. And generally speaking, young children do not yet have the intellectual capacity to perform such a task.

Thus, if we begin with a desire to align ourselves with Calvin’s interpretation, we are placed on a clear and definite trajectory. Not only do we deny that children partook of the Passover, we also justify the imposition of a catechetical requirement to regulate admission to the Lord’s Supper. And never mind that, in practice, this has been expanded from a single question to 129 questions and answers. That is not the point. The point is that, in Calvin, we believe we have a trustworthy historical and theological rationale that gives weight and confidence to our practice.

Now, as we turn to consider this line of reasoning more closely, it is worth noting that answering this objection is not as difficult as it may first appear. To address it in its most developed form, it is best to begin with one of its most thorough recent treatments within the Reformed tradition, namely Dr. Cornelis P. Venema’s Children at the Lord’s Table? Assessing the Case for Paedocommunion.

Throughout his book, Dr. Venema addresses the question of child participation in the Passover, and when several of his statements are considered together, the basic structure of the argument becomes clear.

On page 70, he writes:

“The Passover Feast included, as one of its prescribed features, a kind of catechetical exercise. At a certain point in the Passover rite, the children of the household were to ask, What mean ye by this service? (Ex. 12:26). In reply to this question, the head of the household was to declare, It is the sacrifice of the LORD’s Passover, who passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt, when he smote the Egyptians, and delivered our houses (v. 27a).”

To his credit, Dr. Venema acknowledges that the presence of this exercise does not argue conclusively against the participation of young children. And yet, he goes on to argue that it does suggest that they were excluded.

On page 57, he writes:

“Each of these elements seems to have required a measure of maturity and spiritual discernment that would have excluded full participation in the Passover meal by infants and younger children.”

Taken together, these statements reflect the same line of reasoning outlined above. Here, however, we are dealing with a careful and representative formulation of the argument as it is actually made.

At the same time, there are at least two interpretive missteps in this argument. They are easy to make, but they materially affect the meaning of the text, and for that reason, they must be addressed.

First, it is an error to describe the question in Exodus 12:26 in imperative terms. Dr. Venema refers to it as a “prescribed feature,” suggesting that it was something the children of the household were to ask. But the text does not say that. It does not command the question. It simply anticipates it. “When your children ask about the meaning of the Passover, here is how you are to answer.”

In other words, the answer is prescribed, but the question is simply expected:

“And it shall come to pass, when your children say to you, What do you mean by this service? that you shall say, It is the Passover sacrifice of the LORD.”

That distinction matters. Once the question is treated as required rather than simply anticipated, the argument is already moving beyond what the text says.

Second, it is also an error to treat the question in Exodus 12:26 as tied to a specific moment in the Passover rite. Dr. Venema suggests that this exchange took place at a particular point in the celebration, but the text imposes no such restriction. The wording is open-ended, allowing the child’s question to arise at any time, not only within the setting of the meal itself.

As James B. Jordan observes in his essay, Children and the Religious Meals of the Old Creation:

“Exactly the same kind of question and prescribed answer is found in Deuteronomy 6:20–21 with reference to the law, and in Joshua 4:6–7 about the memorial stones at the Jordan River. These are not ritual events, but examples of a child’s curiosity being satisfied in a perfectly normal manner.” 1

With all due respect to Dr. Venema, his treatment presses the text in a more formal and restrictive direction than the wording seems to support. Granted, it may simply be an overstatement, but either way, the result is the same: the meaning of the text is changed. Our reading, by contrast, follows the natural sense of the passage and leaves the text as it stands.

Thus, the question in Exodus 12:26 is neither a prescribed requirement nor a ritual feature tied to the Passover rite.

As we continue to consider Exodus 12:26, it is worth noting that another argument is often drawn from the form of the question itself. Though Dr. Venema does not raise this particular argument, others within the Reformed tradition have appealed to it in a similar way.

For example, Brian Schwertley, in his article Paedocommunion: A Biblical Examination, writes:

“Interpreters who believe that females and young boys did not eat the bitter herbs and roasted lamb often appeal to the question, What do you mean by this service? (Ex. 12:26) as evidence that small children were observers rather than direct recipients.”

One of the interpreters he has in mind is Morton Smith, who, in his Systematic Theology, writes:

“The question would seem to indicate that the child was not one of the partakers.” 2

Here the argument rests on the form of the question. The claim is that the wording places the child outside of the action itself. If he were participating in the meal with his father, he would have asked what this meal means “for us,” rather than what it means “to you.”

But that assumption does not hold up when we consider how this kind of language functions elsewhere in Scripture.

In Exodus 12, the Passover is instituted with the expectation that children will later ask about its meaning. When that happens, a child may ask in the second person singular, what does this mean “to you” but his father is commanded to answer in the first person plural: “We were slaves of Pharaoh in Egypt, and the LORD brought us out…”

Again, that detail matters because, theologically, the father’s answer necessarily includes his son.

Whether or not his son was born at the time of the deliverance, he is a member of the people who were delivered. Not only in a physical sense, as Levi paid tithes to Melchizedek while still in the loins of Abraham, the child was delivered from Egypt in the loins of his father (Heb. 7:9–10), but more importantly in a covenantal sense, a reality that extends even to Gentiles who would be grafted into Israel’s history.

And what is true of the deliverance is also true of the obligations that flowed from it, which is why Jordan appealed to Deuteronomy 6:20–21, where we have a situation very similar to Exodus 12. A son asks his father about the meaning of God’s commandments, and the wording is the same: “which the LORD our God has commanded you.”

Taken on its own, that wording could be read as placing the child outside the obligation. But Moses has already made it clear that this is not how the covenant works. Just a chapter earlier, when he speaks to “all Israel” (Deut. 5:1), he says, “The LORD our God made a covenant with us in Horeb” (v. 2), and then adds, “The LORD did not make this covenant with our fathers [only], but with us: those who are here today, all of us who are alive” (v. 3). In this statement, he is speaking to those who were not yet born when the covenant was first made, and yet he deliberately includes them in it.

This is how God’s covenants are designed to function. What is given to the fathers includes and binds the children after them, even to their children as well (cf. Deut. 4:9–10; 6:6–7; 11:18–19; Exod. 10:2; Ps. 78:5–7). A child in Israel, then, was not brought into this later. He was born into it, “born under the law” (Gal. 4:4).

This means that in Deuteronomy 6:20–21, when a child asks about the commandments given to his father, he is asking about commandments that were given to him as well.

And in the same way, in Exodus 12:26, when a child asks what the feast means to his father, he is necessarily speaking of a feast in which he himself is included.

The Bible does not explicitly command Christians to join a church because it assumes that they already have. Today there are scores of Christians who think it’s enough to attend a good church but never make a commitment. For some reason, they have come to see membership as optional rather than as a Scriptural mandate.

But the New Testament presupposes membership in several ways; by the words & phrases, pictures, and commands it uses in relation to the church. Consider the following examples:

Words & Phrases

“Yet none of the rest dared to join them” (Acts 5:13). After the death of Ananias and Sapphira, Luke tells us that “great fear came upon the church, and as many as heard these things” (v. 11). Because they were disciplined for their lie, the people realized that God was zealous for the purity and integrity of His church and it made them afraid. As a result, Luke says, “none of the rest dared to join them” (v. 15).
In this statement, the Greek term for “join” is κολλάω and has strong connotations of commitment and intimacy. The same word is used to describe someone being hired for a job (commitment) as when the prodigal son “joined himself” to a man who paid him to feed his swine (Lk. 15:15). Likewise, Paul uses this term to describe the “one flesh” unity resulting from sexual relations (1 Cor. 6:16-17), showing that this term carries the idea of great intimacy.

When Luke says that no man dared to “join” the apostles, the point is not that they refused to visit their meetings or listen to their preaching. Rather, the point is that they refused to make the same commitment to the congregation that other people had. In other words, the distinction in verse 11 between “the church” and “as many as heard these things” never went away, for the people in the latter group never joined the church.

“If the whole church comes together in one place” (1 Cor. 14:23). When the biblical writers use the phrase “the whole church” it indicates that there is a definite numeric value to the membership of each congregation. If this were not the case, then how could they know if the whole church was ever gathered together in one place? This argument is simple but forceful. Just as the phrase “the whole year” makes sense only if we know exactly how many days are in the year, so the phrase “the whole church” makes sense only if we know exactly how many people are in the church. It stands to reason that to identify the whole, half, or even part of the church means that some formal relationship had been established. Otherwise, it becomes an impossible task and the scriptural phrase loses its meaning.

Pictures of the Church

“But now indeed there are many members, yet one body” (1 Cor. 12:20). “And you are members of the household of God” (Eph. 2:19). The Bible uses many pictures and metaphors to teach us that the church is an institution with vertical and horizontal commitments. In each of these pictures, we learn that we are not to view ourselves merely as individuals united to the same entity, but united to one another as well.

For example, in the body the parts are not just “members of the body” (1 Cor. 12:12), they are also “members of one another” (Rom. 12:15). Likewise, in the household the parts are not just laid on the same foundation (Eph. 2:20), they are also “framed together” (v 23) and “built together” (v. 24) to form a holy habitation of God.

The implication of this horizontal unity is that church membership involves more than an abstract, invisible, and undefined relationship between you and God. Rather, membership in the body of Christ is a concrete, visible reality that can be known and seen, kept and broken, established and removed. It is a reality that exists between you and God, to be sure, but also between you and the other members of the church.

Biblical Commands

“Obey those who have the rule over you, and be submissive” (Heb. 12:17). “Shepherd the flock of God which is among you, serving as overseers” (1 Pet. 5:2). If you never join a church, it is impossible for you to “obey those who have the rule over you.” This is true for obvious reasons, one of which is that without the formal structures of membership in place, it is impossible to tell the difference between a member and a ruler.

A similar problem arises with the command for rulers to “shepherd the flock of God.” How can elders identify the particular flock that God holds them responsible for unless Christians formally align themselves with particular congregations?

Suppose Mr. Smith attends First Presbyterian Church for two years but never joins. Then he wanders over to Elm Street Baptist Church, but again he does not join. After attending Elm Street Baptist for six weeks, is Mr. Smith now under the pastoral care of the elders at Elm Street Baptist or the elders at First Presbyterian?

How can the elders of a church know whom they are charged to shepherd apart from congregants taking vows of membership? How can elders know when they are released from their responsibility to shepherd an individual unless that individual informs them that he has made a formal commitment to another church?

“And if he refuses to hear them, tell it to the church” (Mat. 18:17). “What have I to do with judging those also who are outside? Do you not judge those who are inside?” (1 Cor. 5:12). Throughout the Bible, God draws a clear line between those on the “inside” and those on the “outside” of the church. Psalm 87:6 says, “the Lord records as he registers the peoples: this one was born there.” One of the reasons for keeping records is that the church must be properly and carefully managed by adding and subtracting members. Otherwise, what does it mean that Christ will or will not blot out certain names from His book (Rev. 3:5)?

In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul reminds us that in cases of unrepentant sin it is the duty of church leaders to “purge out” the old leaven from among them (1 Cor. 5:7). This is a reference to ex-communication, a function that depends entirely on the formal difference of status between members and non-members. And this is not just another technical point. We should also consider the practicality of this as well.

If we have all kinds of people attending our church, including some who may be involved in scandalous sin, how do we protect the testimony of Christ among us when outsiders say, “So and So, that crooked businessman, goes to Church of the King!” The answer is simple. If we have church membership, our response would be, “Yes, he attends our church, but he’s not a member. We’re just glad he’s coming and inquiring about Christ.”

But when someone who is a member gets involved in scandalous sin and is unrepentant, our response would be very different, “We are presently confronting him about his sin. If he does not repent, the day will come when he will be put out of the church.”

Pastor Paul Liberati, 3/2/2022

One of the best ways to overturn an undesirable conclusion is to deny one or more of the premises on which it depends. In my experience, this is what the bulk of the paedo-communion debate has been reduced to. Some deny the primacy of the continuity between the Passover and the Lord’s Supper, while others deny that children partook of the Passover in the first place.

In this post, I want to address the second of these denials since it’s a lot more common among the people I know. At some point down the line, I can deal with the first one, even if it’s just to reinforce what should be a very obvious connection.

A few years ago, I taught a four-week crash course on the doctrine of Infant Baptism, from a distinctly Reformed perspective. When it came time to make a positive case for the practice, I used what I called at the time, a definitional argument.

This means, instead of trying to prove that there were children present in at least one of the households baptized in the Book of Acts, I began by asking the more fundamental question: What is the definition of a household, according to the Bible?

Interestingly, everyone in the room (Baptists and Presbyterians alike) agreed on this point, and here is what I said:

"Every man living on his own constitutes a household of one. If and when he takes a wife, it becomes a household of two; if and when they have a child, it is then a household of three. Therefore, the biblical definition of a household always includes the children if and when they are present.

To prove this, I considered two passages from the Word of God—one from the Old Testament and one from the New.

• In Genesis 45:18, Pharaoh commanded Joseph and his brothers to bring their “households” back to Egypt. Then, when he repeats that command in verse 19, he commands them to bring their “little ones and wives.”
  
  
• In 1 Timothy 3:4, Paul requires an Elder to “rule his own household well.” Then, to explain what that means, he adds, “having his children in submission with all reverence.”

In the first passage, Pharaoh defines the “households” in verse 18 as the “little ones and wives” in verse 19. In the second, Paul equates a man’s household with his children. When these and similar texts are read together, the conclusion is unavoidable: children are members of the biblical household by definition.

Even if our Baptist friends could prove that every baptized household in the Book of Acts consisted only of believing adults, those particular situations could never be made normative for every household. Narrative instances do not redefine the category itself.

Households differ in size and composition, but the definition does not change with the numbers. One household may have no children and another may have five. A childless household does not include children because none exist there. But a household with children includes them necessarily, because they are constitutive members of it. The term “household” is elastic in application, not in meaning. Its breadth accounts for every possible configuration. The situation may vary from case to case, but the definition remains constant.

"Therefore, children are always included in the household if and when they are present."

As we move the discussion to the Old Testament Passover, we need to keep the same line of argument in view. The question is not, first of all, what later practice we can imagine. The question is what the LORD’s own words mean. It is an act of unjustified presumption to think we can rightly understand the Passover instructions while leaving the key terms undefined.

In Exodus 12:3, the LORD commands Moses to speak to all the “congregation” of Israel, and to instruct every man to take a lamb according to the “house of his father.” Then He tightens the language even further, saying that it shall be “a lamb for a household.”

Unless the LORD is using completely different definitions here than He uses in the rest of His word, it is virtually impossible to exclude the covenant children from the Passover meal. Why? Because children are not just members of the biblical household; they were also members of the congregation of Israel.

• When Joshua read the Book of the Law on Mt. Ebal, he read it before “all the congregation of Israel, with the women, and the little ones” (Jos. 8:35).
  
  
• When Joel called for a national day of fasting, his command was to “gather the people and sanctify the congregation.” When he specified who was included, he said, “Assemble the elders, gather the children, and the nursing babes” (Joel 2:15-16).

Thus, if the definitional argument is sound for paedobaptism, then it is sound for paedocommunion too. Just as the “household” includes children, so too does the “congregation” of God’s people. Not only that, but the Passover instruction is explicitly addressed to the congregation and ordered through the covenant household. That means we should think far more carefully before we speak as though covenant children were somehow excluded from the Passover meal.

The task at this stage is to address the principal questions and objections that have been raised. Five in particular require careful treatment:

• The Passover diet was unsuitable for small children
• Admission to the Passover required catechesis
• The language of the text disproves child-participation
• Later attendance to Passover was restricted to adult males
• Jesus attended Passover at the age of twelve

These are among the more common arguments raised against child participation in the Passover meal. Others could be added, but these will serve as the focus of this series.

In this installment, only the first objection will be addressed. The remaining arguments will be considered in due course.

Those who raise this objection usually have two elements of the meal in mind: the roasted lamb and the alcoholic wine. The argument is that these items are, by the nature of the case, unsuitable, if not impossible, for small children to consume. Therefore, it is concluded, small children did not partake of the Passover meal.

In answering this objection, it should be admitted at the outset that small children are incapable of eating roasted lamb, depending, of course, on what is meant by “small.” The Scriptures plainly distinguish between those who can eat solid food and those who are still in need of milk, with latter consistently referred to as “babes” (1 Cor. 3:1–2; Heb. 5:12–13; 1 Pet. 2:2).

This fact, however, was not overlooked in the Passover instructions. The specificity of Exodus 12 makes this clear.

• When the LORD commanded that there be a lamb for each household, which includes the children, He also specified that the size of the lamb was to be chosen “according to the number of the persons” in the home (v. 3-4a).
  
  
• That all who were physically capable of eating the lamb were intended is made clear because the instructions become even more precise: “each man, according to the mouth of his eating, shall make the count for the lamb” (v. 4b). 1

Thus, the language accounts for variable capacity, so that participation is regulated according to actual ability to eat. This means that a child’s inability to eat meat is resolved by simple consideration: it is a natural but temporary limitation that results in a natural and temporary restriction.

In other words, we might ask: Since eating meat requires teeth, and infants are not born with teeth, does their natural inability to eat solid food place them outside the covenant community? Certainly not. It simply means they must wait for their teeth to grow in before they can enjoy what already belongs to them.

The second dietary concern is the presence of wine. Because wine is intoxicating, it is argued that it is inconceivable that children were ever intended to partake.

Two points must be made.

First, the intoxicating nature of wine must indeed be acknowledged. Yet that concern applies no less to adults than to children since there is no age in Scripture at which intoxication becomes appropriate. When Paul writes, “And do not be drunk with wine, in which is dissipation” (Eph. 5:18), he addresses the church as a whole. Drunkenness is prohibited categorically, not selectively. If the mere possibility of abuse invalidated the element itself, then wine would have to be excluded for everyone.

Second, although drunkenness is forbidden, the drinking of wine in covenant worship is explicitly commanded. There are clear Old Testament instructions in which children partake of other covenant meals that include wine.

• “You may not eat within your gates the tithe of your grain or your new wine… but you must eat them before the LORD your God in the place which the LORD your God chooses: you and your son and your daughter” (Deut. 12:17–18).

• “And you shall eat before the LORD your God, in the place where He chooses to make His name abide, the tithe of your grain and your new wine… You shall eat there before the LORD your God, and you shall rejoice, you and your household” (Deut. 14:23, 26).

The language is unambiguous. The command explicitly includes “your son,” “your daughter,” and even “your household.”

Following the reasoning, we can say:

• If the intoxicating character of wine was not regarded as sufficient grounds to exclude children from these covenant meals, then there is no obvious reason it should have barred them from the Passover. And if it did not bar them from the Passover, then the argument that it now excludes them from the Lord’s Supper must be demonstrated rather than assumed. 2

We should add that no doubt prudence always governed the distribution. In the Passover, participation was enjoyed according to the capacity of the recipient. A small child would receive what was fitting for a small child. So also, in the Lord’s Supper, a child receives only a small amount of bread and wine. Thus the principle has always been proportion, not prohibition.

Covenant children are not spectators in the worship of God. They are addressed, summoned, and included. Therefore, if their exclusion from the Supper is to be maintained, it must be demonstrated from the Word of God, not inferred from assumptions about what seems natural, safe, or appropriate.

I spent seven years in the Reformed Church in the United States (R.C.U.S.), and in a congregation that practices the Rite of Confirmation to mark the change of status covenant children undergo when they publicly confess their faith. Ironically, long before this confirmation takes place, these children are baptized into the body of Christ as a sign and seal (viz., a confirmation) of their inclusion in the covenant of grace. The Directory of Public Worship explains this point with the following statement: 

At their baptism, it is said that the Triune God claims these children as “His very own.” We are reminded that our Savior “admitted little children into his presence, embraced and blessed them, saying, ‘Of such is the kingdom of God.’” Finally, it is declared that Baptism is the God-ordained means by which our children are “distinguished from the children of unbelievers and solemnly received into the visible church.”

Now, infant Baptism is a beautiful and biblical practice, and it is not my aim to detract from it. Rather, I seek to show that taking the wording of its institution seriously raises several important questions about Communion that deserve careful consideration. For instance, what does it mean to say that our children are included in the covenant of grace? If, in the words of the statement above, this inclusion grants them a right only to the “outward privileges of the church,” where exactly do the sacraments fit within that framework? Do we say that Baptism is an outward privilege while the Lord’s Supper is an inward privilege, such that our covenant children may receive the one and yet be barred from the other?

Some may wish to appeal to a distinction between the “administration” of the covenant, referring to what the visible church participates in, and its “substance,” which only the invisible church enjoys. But then, do we conclude that Baptism belongs to the visible church while the Lord’s Supper belongs to the invisible? Given our confessional tradition, I doubt that anyone would affirm such a claim. Yet these questions inevitably arise wherever Baptism is administered to, and Communion withheld from, the very same people.

Barring a baptized member of the Body from the Lord’s Supper is ordinarily an act of church discipline, not a matter of spiritual maturity. This is evident in the fact that we readily commune the newest adult convert as soon as he is baptized, even without an extended period of theological training. In many cases, he may have been confessing Christ for only a short time. On what basis, then, do we exclude our baptized covenant children from the Lord’s Table?

To avoid the unthinkable conclusion that our children are baptized into a state of church discipline, I would argue that the elders have only two ways to justify excluding them from the Table: either they divide the sacraments by arguing that Baptism belongs to the visible church while the Lord’s Supper does not, or they divide the visible church by claiming that there are two levels of membership, with Baptism granting entry only to the first.

In practice, most Reformed churches choose the second option, and this explains why the Rite of Confirmation functions as a necessary tradition in my previous congregation. Confirmation functions as the means by which baptized children are advanced to the second level of membership. The ritual serves as the vehicle that moves covenant children from second-class to full citizenship in the Kingdom, from partial to complete membership in the Body of Christ. And while this description may sound crass, there is scarcely another way to describe what is taking place. Indeed, it fits precisely with the final words of the Rite used in that congregation, where the minister declares to the one being confirmed, “Beloved, I now welcome you to full communion with the people of God.”

As a follow-up to the institutional conundrum created when covenant children are barred from the covenant meal, there is also a confessional conundrum. Perhaps in the interest of protecting a widely accepted practice (post twelfth century), many who subscribe to the Westminster Standards deny what appears to be an inconsistency between the definitions of its sacramental theology and their application to the Lord’s Supper.

The Confession defines the visible church as “those that profess the true religion, together with their children” (25:2), and the sacraments as “signs and seals of the covenant of grace” designed to put a “visible difference between those that belong unto the church and the rest of the world” (27:1). It also states that the sacraments of the Old Testament, “with regard to the spiritual things signified, were, for substance, the same with those of the New” (27:5).

For Reformed Christians, these definitions provide the legitimate (biblical) basis for the practice of paedobaptism. Yet the question is this: On what application of these same principles can paedocommunion be invalidated?

To avoid the conclusion that all baptized children have a right to Communion as members of the visible church, the meaning and purpose of this particular sacrament must be modified. Rather than the Lord’s Supper being a “sign and seal of the covenant of grace” (which includes our children), it must be redefined as a sign and seal of spiritual maturity (which apparently does not). Rather than the Lord’s Supper being used to “put a visible difference between those that belong to the church” (which includes our children) and the rest of the world, it is employed to draw a visible distinction between the church and the true church existing in her midst. And rather than the Lord’s Supper being “the same in substance,” with regard to the spiritual things signified, as the sacramental meals of the Old Testament (in which children always participated), it has come to be treated as a sacrament of such a different spiritual character that children must now be excluded.

But in the interest of theological and confessional integrity within the Westminster tradition, I propose that we address and resolve this matter in one of two ways. Either we allow the Westminster’s definition of the visible church to determine who may and may not partake of the sacraments, or we modify that definition to make room for the asymmetry of our practice—namely, baptizing our covenant children while yet refusing to commune them.

As it stands, most who subscribe to the Westminster Standards deny that any such tension exists, either in the Confession itself or in their practice in light of it, though it appears rather obvious to a growing number of us. This leaves us at an impasse, with some insisting that certain exceptions must be taken on biblical grounds, and others maintaining that such exceptions are neither necessary nor allowable.

Therefore, in the next article I will turn to the writings of our Reformed theologians, where these questions are more directly addressed. There we will consider the arguments commonly advanced in support of withholding the Supper from covenant children, assess how those arguments are derived from Scripture, and examine whether they truly succeed in validating such a practice.

"Is a person saved at the moment of regeneration?"

And closely related to that:

"What is the relationship between regeneration and conversion?"

Are these two realities inseparably connected, or is it possible for someone to be regenerated without also being converted?

The answers we give will largely depend on how we define the terms.

Two Definitions of Regeneration

1. The Inward, Irreversible Change (Ordo Salutis View)

Some define regeneration as the first step in an unbreakable ordo salutis. On this view, it is an inward, spiritual, and moral change wrought in the heart by the Holy Spirit—a planting of new life in the soul. Being a sovereign and effectual work of God, this regeneration is an irreversible experience. Consequently, it is given to the elect alone.

2. The Objective, Eschatological Reality (New Creation View)

Others define regeneration as participation in the objective, inaugurated reality established through the resurrection of Christ. Here, regeneration is not something that enters into a person, but something the person enters into. By Baptism, we are brought into the regeneration—the new creation, the kingdom of Christ in the here and now. In this sense, one may be regenerated and yet not abide in that condition.

(For the record, most contemporary Presbyterian and Reformed theologians hold to the first definition. In contrast, many of the earlier Reformers, the Lutheran tradition, and the early church fathers held to the second.)

The Early Church on Regeneration

Charles Hodge (Presbyterian) explains the historical development of these terms:

"In the early church, regeneration often expressed, not any inward moral change, but an external change of state or relation. Among the Jews when a heathen became a proselyte to their religion, he was said to be born again. The change of his status from without to within the theocracy, was called regeneration.
This usage in a measure passed over to the Christian Church. When a man became a member of the Church he was said to be born anew; and baptism, which was the rite of initiation, was called regeneration.
This use of the word has not entirely passed away. A distinction is still sometimes made between regeneration and spiritual renovation [conversion]. The one is external, the other internal. Some of the advocates of baptismal regeneration make this distinction, and interpret the language of the formulas of the Church of England in accordance with it."
—Systematic Theology, vol. 3

According to Hodge, this distinction persists in Protestant churches and denominations, where regeneration and spiritual renovation are often treated as two separate, though related, events—one objective and the other subjective.

A Biblical Case for the Eschatological View

The term regeneration (Greek: παλιγγενεσία) occurs only twice in the New Testament—Matthew 19:28 and Titus 3:5. Both passages point to an objective, redemptive-historical reality.

“By the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit.”
 —Titus 3:5

J.V. Fesko, a Reformed theologian, makes the case that Titus 3:5 refers not to an inward ordo salutis step, but to the believer’s entrance into the new creation:

"Historically, some have interpreted παλιγγενεσία as a reference to the ordo salutis…True, the work of the Holy Spirit in the application of redemption most certainly makes a person a new creature. However, it does not appear that [this term] refers to the ordo salutis as much as to the new creation; the reference is primarily redemptive-historical."
—Word, Water, and Spirit

He also highlights how Stoic philosophers and Philo used παλιγγενεσία to speak of cosmic renewal—periodic restorations of the world.

Matthew 19:28 supports this:

“Assuredly I say to you, that in the regeneration [ἐν τῇ παλιγγενεσίᾳ], when the Son of Man sits on the throne of His glory, you who have followed Me will also sit on twelve thrones…”

Gerhardus Vos concurs:

“The word cannot be restricted to the more or less individualizing application of the resurrection; it covers the resurrection as a whole and even the renewal of the universe...”
—Gerhardus Vos (as quoted by Fesko)

Is a Person Saved at the Moment of Regeneration?

According to the First Definition:

Yes—regeneration is the moment of salvation. And because this gift of life is irreversible, the one who is regenerated is eternally secure. Faith is the fruit of regeneration, and perseverance is its inevitable result.

According to the Second Definition:

Yes and no. One may be saved in the sense of entering into a saving relationship—joined to Christ, given covenant blessings, and placed within the kingdom. Yet this state can be forfeited through unbelief, rebellion, or apostasy. Salvation, then, is both present and provisional. The final state of salvation belongs to those whom God sovereignly preserves in Christ to the end.

Again, this view sees Baptism as the entry point. By Baptism we are grafted into the Risen Christ (Who is the locus of the regeneration) like a branch being grafted into the Living Vine. But those who do not remain in Christ—having and continuing in faith—will be cut off and thrown into the fire (cf. John 15:5–6).

Regeneration and Conversion: How Are They Related?

According to the First Definition:

Regeneration and conversion are two sides of the same coin. Regeneration is an inward renewal; conversion is its outward expression through repentance and faith. The latter always accompanies the former.

According to the Second Definition:

Regeneration is union with Christ through Baptism. Conversion is the inward opening of the heart, which may precede, accompany, or follow that union. They are related, but not inseparable. One may be joined to the Vine, and yet fail to draw upon its life-giving power. What is needed in that case is the opening of the heart—a yielding to the grace already given. This, God alone can produce.

Now—whether conversion itself is a permanent and irreversible state—or whether it may be temporary—is beyond the scope of this post. For a fuller presentation of my position on that question, see here: "They Believe for a Time"

M.F. Sadler (Anglican) illustrates the distinction between regeneration and conversion with the imagery of grafting:

"Baptism, no matter what the state of heart of the recipient, at once brings the baptized into contact (if I may use the expression) with the highest powers of the unseen world. In some infinitely mysterious way the human graft—right then and there—comes into contact with the new stock of humanity: the Second Adam.

"If there be faith in the person baptized, he, at once, begins to partake of the root and fatness of the Divine Olive-Tree, which, if he yields his will to it (Rom. 11: 22–24; John 15: 1–8), subdues to itself the whole inner man (1 John 3: 6–9).

"If he has no faith, the saving efficacy of the grace of Christ enters not into him; nevertheless he is, all the same, brought into contact with the True Vine, but to his condemnation. His unbelief is the obstacle to the grace of the Saviour flowing into him. Christ would, but cannot, heal him, because of his unbelief (Mark 6:5–6). Till that is removed, the goodness of the Divine Olive cannot renew him.

"Now, if God, after such sin, still determines to grant him repentance unto life, then the grafting takes beneficial effect. The grafting, I say, which he has already undergone, for he does not need to be grafted in anew. He does not need to be baptized again, no matter what the previous circumstances of unbelief and impenitence which attended his original baptism; for that would imply that a thing done in the name and by the authority of the ever-blessed Trinity had been an empty form. In fact, the whole mystery and meaning of Baptism as an initial union with the Second Adam is wrapped up in the simple fact of its being administered but once."
—The Second Adam and the New Birth

Baptism, then, is never a mere formality—it is a real grafting into Christ. This may or may not be accompanied faith in the person baptized. The inward and ongoing benefits of that graft depend on conversion of heart and persevering faith.

Practical Implications for Ministry

These two frameworks lead to very different pastoral approaches.

Under the First Definition:

When a baptized person wanders, the call is to examine whether they were ever truly united to Christ. Baptism may not be mentioned at all, as it is not seen as the entrance into this union. The person is called either to Christ for the first time—or back from a state of backsliding, depending on the judgment of their past profession.

Under the Second Definition:

The person is approached as one who has wandered from Christ Himself. They are not asked to question their past standing, but warned not to reject it. They are reminded that they were once grafted in and are now cutting themselves off from the Savior.

This view allows for direct, bold, and deeply scriptural appeals:

“The Lord, having saved the people out of the land of Egypt, afterward destroyed those who did not believe.”
—Jude 1:5

“You have become severed from Christ; you have fallen from grace.”
—Gal. 5:4

“I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against Me.”
—Isa. 1:2

They were saved. They were children. And they rebelled.

The Parable of the Prodigal Son

This parable perfectly illustrates the second view.

The lost son was never not a son. His sin was not in pretending to belong, but in rejecting the privileges of sonship. His return is not a new birth, but a restoration of the previously existing relationship.

“This my son was dead, and is alive again.”
—Luke 15:24

Sadler again:

"The prodigal son and his brother are “sons.” Both are originally in their Father’s house—the Church of Jesus Christ. The son who leaves his home is still a “son.” And it is that which makes his sin the deeper, and his repentance the more bitter. When he returns, his Father meets him as His lost son and says respecting him, “This my son was dead, and is alive again.”

“My son.” We have here the covenant relationship established in time past, the “goodness” in which he ought to have “continued” (Rom. 11: 22; John 15: 1–6).

“Was dead.” Here we have the fall from grace into a state of death. (“She that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth” (1 Tim. 5: 6; Jude 1:12).

“And is alive again.” Here we have the conversion of him who was, and continued to be from the first, “a son”; but the privileges of whose sonship were suspended till he returned to the bosom of his Father.

"This parable illustrates how completely the more unreserved preaching of Baptismal Regeneration and most earnest calls to conversion are in accord with one another. If you urge repentance and conversion on a sinner living at a distance from God, it must be on the strength of his past adoption into God’s family, if you are to take the parable of the prodigal son as your guide.

"Just as Isaiah beseeches the children of Israel to return to God because they were His children and His people: “I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against Me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s crib; but Israel doth not know, My people doth not consider” (Isa. 1: 2).

"In fact, I doubt whether the place can be named throughout the whole of the Old Testament, in which God calls on the children of Israel to repent and turn to Him, except on some ground of covenant mercy bestowed on one and all of them.

In Summary

Both views aim to uphold the grace of God and the necessity of faith. But the second view—rooted in the eschatological framework of Scripture and the sacramental theology of the historical church—offers a compelling alternative to the prevailing evangelical model.

It allows us to take Scripture’s language seriously:

• That people can be saved, and yet fall away.
• That they can be God’s children, and yet rebel.
• That they can be in Christ, and yet become severed.

Rather than explaining such language away, it lets the warnings stand as real calls to repentance, faith, and perseverance to the end.

“If God, after such sin, still determines to grant him repentance unto life, then the grafting takes beneficial effect... for he does not need to be grafted in anew.”
—M.F. Sadler

More could be said—but this survey should be enough to clarify the two positions and how they play out theologically and pastorally. The goal here is not polemics, but clarity—so that we can consider these things thoughtfully, biblically, and faithfully.

Jesus’s Parable of the Soils (Matt. 13; Luke 8) requires us to move beyond a simple “believe or reject” framework and see how one seed—the Word of God—meets different types of hearts and degrees of receptivity. Each soil-type reflects both outward circumstances (rockiness, competing weeds, moisture) and inward conditions (openness, root-depth, perseverance). Taken together, they teach that while genuine spiritual life can begin under imperfect conditions, only a heart that’s carefully tended will bring its fruit to full maturity.

• Hard Ground No reception; the seed is snatched away.
  Here the soil is hard and inhospitable, just as a hardened heart offers no room for the word of Christ. The message never penetrates; Satan immediately removes it before any response can take place. This soil warns us that hearing alone, without willingness to receive, leaves us with a dead and barren heart. Jesus says: “The devil comes and takes away the word out of their hearts, lest they should believe and be saved.”
  
  
• Rocky Soil Temporary reception; initial faith and joy.
  In this case, the seed is planted in shallow soil and springs up at once. The believer experiences faith, joy, and even initial growth, yet lacks the deep roots needed to withstand trials. When affliction or persecution comes, that shallow root cannot hold, and this temporary faith withers under pressure. Jesus says: “These believe for a while and in time of temptation fall away.”
  
  
• Thorny Ground Genuine growth, early production of fruit.
  Unlike the rocky soil, here the seed is received, takes firm root, and begins to produce good fruit—tender shoots, fresh buds, and early signs of a harvest. However, the thorns—worldly cares, material pleasures, and unconfessed sin—grow alongside the crop, eventually choking out it. The result is a new life that began well but never reached its intended goal. Jesus says: “these bring no fruit to perfection.”
  
  
• Good Soil Deep, well-tended ground; enduring growth and lasting fruit.
  This represents the heart that is both receptive and disciplined. It is free from the stones of shallow faith and the weeds of worldliness and temptation. The seed takes deep hold, draws from both moisture and nutrients, and survives every season—bringing forth a hundred, sixty, or thirty-fold harvest. True discipleship, then, is not merely about receiving the Word, but continuing in it. “Then Jesus said to those Jews who believed Him, “If you abide in My word, you are My disciples indeed.” (Jn. 8:31)

By mapping each soil to a distinct heart-condition and faith-quality, Jesus shows us that faith exists on a spectrum—from temporary joy to steadfast perseverance. Our task is twofold: to examine which soil best describes our own hearts and to cultivate the conditions (depth, vigilance, openness) that allow God’s Word to bear lasting fruit.

As we think about this paradigm, we can expand on the picture to include additional variations of human experience and interaction with the grace of God. For though there are only two possible outcomes regarding the question of a man’s final destiny, I would say that there are at least seven different paths he might travel to get there.

HE MAY OBTAIN ETERNAL LIFE because he:

1. Hears the Gospel, believes it, and never falls away, “Because you have kept My command to persevere, I also will keep you from the hour of trial which shall come… to test those who dwell on the earth.” (Rev. 3:10)
   
   
2. Hears the Gospel, believes it, falls away, but repents again, “But he was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.” (Lk. 15:32)
   
   
3. Hears the Gospel, rejects it, later repents, and then perseveres to the end, (variation of 1 and 2).
   
   HE MAY PERISH IN HIS SINS because he:
   
   
4. Never hears the Gospel, “How then shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard?” (Rom. 10:14)
5. Hears the Gospel but rejects it and never repents, “Then Paul and Barnabas grew bold and said, ‘It was necessary that the word of God should be spoken to you first; but since you reject it…’” (Acts 13:46)
6. Hears the Gospel, pretends to believe (hypocrisy), never truly repents, and so ultimately perishes, “But there are some of you that believe not. For Jesus knew from the beginning who they were that believed not.” (Jn. 6:64)
7. Hears the Gospel, believes it for a time, but falls away, “Those on the rock are the ones who, when they hear, receive the word with joy; but these have no root… and they believe for a while. But when tribulation or persecution arises… they fall away.” (Lk. 8:13)

The Synod of Dort: Embracing Theological Complexity

Steven Wedgeworth’s article, “The Synod of Dort and the Complexities of Being Reformed,” offers a fascinating account of how the English delegates at Dort defended and preserved theological breadth in the Reformed Tradition by refusing to condemn every disputed position. Wedgeworth explains:

"One of the most striking achievements of the British at Dort is seen in what they were able to keep from being listed among the rejected errors. Initially a proposal had been made to reject as an error the teaching that the reprobate could attain a state of temporary justification. The British protested and were, amazingly, successful in keeping this position from being considered heretical. Their reasons for doing so are worth quoting in full:

“We ourselves think that this doctrine is contrary to Holy Scriptures, but whether it is expedient to condemn it in these our canons needs great deliberation. On the contrary, it would appear

1. “That Augustine, Prosper and the other Fathers who propounded the doctrine of absolute predestination and who opposed the Pelagians, seem to have conceded that certain of those who are not predestinated can attain the state of regeneration and justification. Indeed, they use this very argument as an illustration of the deep mystery of predestination; which cannot be unknown to those who have even a modest acquaintance with their writings.
   
   
2. “That we ought not without grave cause to give offence to the Lutheran churches, who in this matter, it is clear, think differently.
   
   
3. “That (which is of greater significance) in the Reformed churches themselves, many learned and saintly men who are at one with us in defending absolute predestination, nevertheless think that certain of those who are truly regenerated and justified, are able to fall from that state and to perish and that this happens eventually to all those, whom God has not ordained in the decree of election infallibly to eternal life. Finally we cannot deny that there are some places in Scripture which apparently support this opinion, and which have persuaded learned and pious men, not without great probability.”

"The British were concerned about the interest of the Lutheran churches because James I had explicitly instructed them not to give undue offense towards them. James still hoped for a future union between all Reformation churches. The British delegates even asked that the Lutherans not be excluded from the title “Reformed,” since, they argued, the Lutherans began the Reformation.

"This information is fascinating for a number of reasons. It shows the breadth of the Reformed tradition, at least according to the British, as well as their understanding of the function of the Canons of Dort. Obviously if the success of removing a rejection held value, then it was understood that positions which were neither promoted nor condemned were allowable to be held by Reformed ministers. The interest in the Lutheran churches also shows that the British did not desire to use their confessions to mark off the limits of the Christian Church. They instead only wanted to condemn clear error and the precise points under dispute at the time."

By omitting any formal anathema of temporary justification, Dort’s Canons affirmed that their sole purpose was to condemn explicit errors of the moment, thereby preserving legitimate diversity within the broader Reformed tradition.

As Reformed Christians today, we must exercise the same restraint, avoiding the condemnation of positions that would have placed Augustine, Luther, or even Calvin under ecclesiastical discipline. It may seem a tired exercise to wonder whether a great theologian of the past could join our own congregation—but I still believe it’s a question worth our earnest and humble reflection.

Matthew 18: The Unforgiving Servant

One passage the English divines at Dort almost certainly had in view is Matthew 18:21–35—Jesus’ parable of the unforgiving servant. Here it is in full:

"Then Peter came to Him and said, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Up to seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven. Therefore the kingdom of heaven is like a certain king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. And when he had begun to settle accounts, one was brought to him who owed him ten thousand talents. But as he was not able to pay, his master commanded that he be sold, with his wife and children and all that he had, and that payment be made. The servant therefore fell down before him, saying, ‘Master, have patience with me, and I will pay you all.’ Then the master of that servant was moved with compassion, released him, and forgave him the debt."

"But that servant went out and found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii; and he laid hands on him and took him by the throat, saying, ‘Pay me what you owe!’ So his fellow servant fell down at his feet and begged him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you all.’ And he would not, but went and threw him into prison till he should pay the debt. So when his fellow servants saw what had been done, they were very grieved, and came and told their master all that had been done.

"Then his master, after he had called him, said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. Should you not also have had forgiveness on your fellow servant, just as I had mercy on you?’ And his master was angry, and delivered him to the torturers until he should pay all that was due to him. So My heavenly Father also will do to you if each of you, from his heart, does not forgive his brother his trespasses.”

From this parable we draw four clear points:

1. Peter is speaking as a forgiven—and therefore justified—man. He approaches Jesus from the standpoint of one already saved by faith in Christ (cf. Matt. 16:13–20), asking how many times he must extend forgiveness to others.
   
   
2. Jesus represents Peter by the forgiven servant. The debtor who pleads, “Master, have patience with me,” and then receives full cancellation of his ten-thousand-talents debt mirrors Peter’s own justified status.
   
   
3. Refusal to forgive reverses one’s own forgiveness. Because the servant refused to grant others the forgiveness he himself received, the Master reinstated his debt, cast him into prison until the whole debt be paid.
   
   
4. Jesus concludes with a direct, unambiguous application. “So My heavenly Father also will do to you if each of you, from his heart, does not forgive his brother his trespasses.” This warning is addressed personally to Peter—and, by extension, to the other apostles and every believer in Jesus.

We must ask: what is justification, if not the forgiveness of sins? Jesus shows us plainly that one who is forgiven can, through an unforgiving heart, forfeit that pardon. Thus, no man is to presume that his justified status is safe and secure apart from a true, sincere, and persevering faith.

Two Species of Calling: Calvin’s Concession

Some will argue that this interpretation departs from John Calvin, insisting that only the elect—those effectually called by the Spirit—can possess faith that truly justifies. Yet Calvin himself indicates a more complex reality. While he affirms in many places that the elect’s calling differs qualitatively, he also concedes elsewhere that non-elect hearers can experience genuine, Spirit-wrought illumination—if only for a season. Consider his comments on Matthew 22:14 (“Many are called, but few are chosen”):

“There are two species of calling: for there is a universal call, by which God, through the external preaching of the word, invites all men alike, even those for whom He designs it to be a savor of death and the ground of a severer condemnation. In addition to this, there is a special call, which—for the most part—God bestows on believers only, when by the internal illumination of the Spirit He causes the word preached to take deep root in their hearts. Sometimes, however, He communicates it also to those whom He enlightens only for a time, and whom afterwards, in just punishment for their ingratitude, He abandons and smites with greater blindness.”
—John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.24.8

Notice here that Calvin does not confine the special, inward, and effectual call exclusively to the elect. He plainly acknowledges that the non-elect may, at times, receive this deeper illumination, only to have it judicially withdrawn when their gratitude falters. In doing so, Calvin frees us to read Scripture more directly, recognizing that true and genuine receptions of saving grace can happen among those who ultimately fall away.

For this reason, I have argued that labels like “miracle faith” or “historical faith” can sometimes do more to protect later theological systems than to clarify Scripture itself. While I have no quarrel with precise theological terminology, these phrases do not appear in the biblical text; they were coined later to shore up predetermined doctrinal boundaries. Instead, the Bible speaks of “temporary faith” (believe for a while), “temporary conversion” (once enlightened), and “temporary justification” (I forgave you all that debt)—terms that better capture the experience of those who later fall away, echoing the language of the Scriptures.

Thus Calvin’s unvarnished words remind us that Scripture portrays faith as a spectrum of divine encounters: some genuine, some spurious; some that begin with promise and end in abandonment; some shallow and short-lived; and others deep and lasting to the end. All of these, of course, unfold according to God’s sovereign decree, for He alone ordains every stage and every variation of human experience in our encounter with Christ and the Gospel of His grace.

When the average Evangelical Christian talks about being “saved” he usually refers to the first moment of conversion, or justification by faith in Christ. He tends to reduce salvation to a past event in the believer’s life: “For by grace you have been saved through faith” (Eph. 2:8). From this perspective, salvation is something that has already been accomplished.
But this perspective is myopic. The Bible paints a far richer picture, presenting salvation as an ongoing journey that culminates in the future. Believers have been saved, are being saved, and will be saved on the Last Day: “And the Lord added to the church daily those who are being saved” (Acts 2:47); “But he who endures to the end shall be saved” (Mt. 24:13).

When we take a bird’s eye view, salvation emerges as a dynamic process with three phases: initiation, continuation, and completion. While all Evangelicals can agree that salvation begins with faith alone in Christ alone, there has been some debate about the role of good works in the latter phases, especially between Lutheran and Reformed theologians. Both traditions hold to the necessity of good works in a believer’s life, yet historically, Reformed theologians had far less of a problem asserting that good works are “necessary to salvation.” Francis Turretin (1623-1687) explains:

"Although the proposition concerning the necessity of good works to salvation was rejected by various Lutheran theologians as less suitable and dangerous; nay, even by some of our theologians; still we think with others that it can be retained without danger if properly explained." (1)

In addition to his disagreements with Lutherans, Turretin acknowledged that some Reformed theologians hesitated to affirm the necessity of good works for salvation. However, he was clear that he himself was not among them. Turretin believed that this doctrine should continue to be upheld and taught, with the only caveat being that it must be properly understood and accurately explained.

The purpose of this essay is to explain as accurately and concisely as possible what might be called the Reformed doctrine of the Necessity of Good Works.

Produced After Conversion 

The first thing to note about good works is their location. On this point, the Reformed doctrine leaves no room for confusion: good works do not precede the initial reception of salvation. Augustine’s maxim that “Good works do not precede them that are to be justified, but follow them that are justified,” (2) was known and accepted among all Reformation Divines, including the Reformed.

Zacharias Ursinus (1534-1583), the principal author of the Heidelberg Catechism, declared: “We may safely and correctly say that good works are necessary in them that are justified and that are to be saved.” (3) Likewise, Henry Alsted (1588-1638), in his polemical work against the papists, reinforced this stance: “Good works do not precede one justified, but necessarily follow one justified, and precede unto salvation.” (4)

Turretin was more specific, arguing that good works come after justification, during sanctification, but before glorification:

"Works can be considered in three ways: they are related to justification not antecedently but consequently. They are related to sanctification constitutively because they constitute and promote it. They are related to glorification antecedently because they are related to it as the means to the end." (5)

Understanding the right position of good works is crucial because it underscores that it is the believer who is in view. Before a person believes in Jesus Christ, none of his works can be “good” in the fullest and most important sense, for “a bad tree cannot bear good fruit” (Mt. 7:18) and “without faith it is impossible to please God” (Heb. 11:6). Therefore, recognizing the proper location of these works is the first step to comprehending how the various aspects of the doctrine fit together.

Necessary for Salvation

Having established that good works appear between justification and salvation, Reformed theologians were not satisfied with saying that believers are merely expected to produce them. Rather, they argued that, in the course of an ordinary Christian life, the production of good works is an indispensable necessity. In fact, they asserted that good works are so necessary that a man cannot be saved without them. This was expressed by their use of the Latin phrase sine qua non, meaning “without which there is nothing.”

Returning to Alsted, the fuller text of his treatment reads: “Controversy 10: Whether Good Works are Necessary? The Orthodox: Good works are ordinarily necessary by adults out of the supposition or necessity: …3. Of a means, so far as they are the way of salvation, a condition and cause sine qua non.” (6) Peter Van Mastricht (1630-1706) put it this way: Good works are necessary by divine prescript for receiving the possession of life “as conditions without which God refuses to bestow salvation upon us.” (7)

American theologian and philosopher, Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758), further unpacks this concept:

"There are many other things besides faith, which are directly proposed to us, to be pursued or performed by us, in order to eternal life, as those which, if they are done or obtained, we shall have eternal life, and if not done or not obtained, we shall surely perish." (8)

It is important to note the future tense in Edwards’ statement. If these things (besides faith) are performed by us, we shall have eternal life. But if they are not performed, we shall perish instead. Edwards is speaking with an eye toward the judgment on the Last Day."

Turretin gave a similar “eye-to-the-future” presentation:

"Although works may be said to contribute nothing to the acquisition of salvation, still they should be considered necessary to the obtainment of it, so that no one can be saved without them."

Turretin’s two-stage distinction between the acquisition of salvation and its obtainment appears to align with the initial reception of salvation and its final possession on the Last Day. In the former case, he asserts that good works contribute nothing; however, in the latter case, he emphasizes their indispensable role: no one can be saved without them.

A few pages later, he wrote:

"Since good works have the relation of the means to the end (Jn. 3:5, 16; Mt. 5:8); of the way to the goal (Eph. 2:10; Phil. 3:14); of the sowing to the harvest (Gal. 6:7, 8); of the firstfruits to the mass (Rom. 8:23); of labor to the reward (Mt. 20:1); of the contest to the crown (2 Tim. 2:5; 4:8), everyone sees that there is the highest and indispensable necessity of good works for obtaining glory." (10)

At this juncture, it is crucial to note that this was not a late development in Reformed theology but a fundamental conviction present from the beginning. While Philip Melanchthon was working on the Saxon Confession to articulate the Lutheran position, Martin Bucer (1491–1551) and Wolfgang Capito (1478–1541) published the German Tetrapolitan Confession of 1530—the first distinctively Reformed confession. In Chapter 5, they boldly declared: “We are so far from rejecting good works that we utterly deny that anyone can be saved unless by Christ’s Spirit he be brought thus far: that there be in him no lack of good works, for which God has created him.”

From the beginning, then, our reformers held a strong and robust view of the relationship between good works and salvation. Contrary to what some would later suggest, good works—proceeding from faith and empowered by the Spirit—are not mere optional accessories. Indeed, that was precisely what our first confession “utterly denied.”

But we must go further. After examining the sequence and necessity of good works, we must turn to their “causal” nature. As the Scottish Reformed theologian William Forbes (1585-1634) pointed out: “Very many passages of Holy Scriptures clearly demonstrate that good works have to salvation not merely the relation ‘of order’ but also a causal relation.”11

Causes of Eternal Life

It may come as news to those in Reformed churches today that many of their own theologians of the 16th and 17th centuries believed, taught, and defended the proposition that good works are a “cause” of our salvation. Nevertheless, this is a distinguishing feature of their theological heritage and one that must be recovered if the antinomian tendencies that have crept into the church would be effectively resisted.

In keeping with Turretin’s exhortation to explain these things accurately, we must understand the various types of causes the Reformed had in view when they articulated their position. Building on Aristotle’s idea that a ‘cause’ is anything that brings about motion or change, Reformed theologians often referred to five types: (1) The efficient cause is the agent that initiates motion or change in any sequence of causes and effects; (2) the instrumental cause is the means by which an end or goal is achieved; (3) the material cause is the substance that undergoes change; (4) the formal cause is the essence or defining nature of the thing, determining what it becomes; (5) the final cause is the ultimate purpose for which something is made or an action is performed.

To use a common illustration, consider the existence of a sculpture in its relation to these five causes. The efficient cause is the sculptor, the material cause is the marble, the instrumental causes are the hammer and chisel, the formal cause is the finished statue, and the final cause is the purpose for which the statue was made.

With this in view, it is important to note that with few exceptions Reformed theologians taught that good works are a cause of our salvation in an instrumental sense—that is, good works serve as the means by which we gain eternal life. (12) Of course, this is not to say that the right to eternal life is somehow acquired by our works. Rather, the right to life is grounded in the obedience of Jesus Christ and initially secured by the reception of true, living, and persevering faith. But this faith is followed by good works, which are now the means by which we finally possess this God-given gift of Life.

John Calvin (1509-1564) was careful to delineate the matter in similar terms:  

"Moreover, when Scripture intimates that the good works of believers are causes why the Lord does them good, we must still understand the meaning so as to hold unshaken what has previously been said—namely, that 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." (13)

Jerome Zanchi (1516-1590), one of the most learned Italian Reformers, articulated Calvin’s position in more concise terms, when he said: “Good works are an instrumental cause of the possession of eternal life, for by these as by media and by the legitimate path God leads us into the possession of eternal life.” (14) Likewise, Gisbertus Voetius (1589-1676), after extensive deliberation on this issue, arrived at the same conclusion: “Works are a cause of salvation, and certainly ‘instrumental’ is more to be preferred than ‘efficient’.” (15)

Then, Scottish Presbyterian and Westminster Divine, Samuel Rutherford (1600-1661) declared that good works are inferior, instrumental causes of entering eternal life and (perhaps following Turretin) made a compelling biblical case for this position. Assembling many of the relevant statements of Scripture, Rutherford emphasized the active nature of good works, explicitly rejecting the so-called distinction between a means and a cause.

"Good works are understood to have a causative power for eternal life in three ways… 2. That they might have an inferior and causal instrumental power conferred upon them by the grace of God, just as running is a cause of the crown which is received, contending a cause of the victory, and diet a cause of health." (16)

He further elaborated:

"While good works are means, they are not passive, but active: a means here is an inferior cause. Therefore it is said, ‘For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory’ (2 Cor. 4:17). ‘They work’; they are causing for us, as the Holy Spirit speaks, 2 Cor. 4:17. Neither can we distinguish here between causes and signs, for mere signs have no causality; neither is the dawn in any way a cause of the day, it is rather a sign of the day; nor is smoke a cause, even an inferior one, of fire. Our running by good works, though, has an active causality unto the actual possession of eternal life, as the Scripture says: 1 Cor. 9:24-25; Heb. 12:1." (17)

Non-Meritorious Causes

We may ask the question: How exactly do good works function as a means or cause of eternal life? Johannes Piscator (1546-1625) explained it with an apt illustration:

"As if a treasure hid at the top of a mountain were given to someone, but on this condition, that if he wished to possess it, he must ascend the mountain and dig it out; here certainly climbing the mountain and digging up the treasure have the nature of an efficient cause in respect of the possession and enjoyment of the treasure; but they have not the nature of merit, inasmuch as the treasure had been freely given to him." (18)

Piscator’s analogy provides a vivid and challenging picture. The act of climbing the mountain and digging for the treasure symbolizes the necessary actions required to obtain the treasure, which in this case represents the gift of eternal life. It is important to underscore, however, that while good works are the means by which we realize our salvation, this does not imply that salvation is somehow “earned” or “merited” by them. Instead the analogy clarifies that while the process of climbing and digging (good works) is what actualizes the possession and enjoyment of the treasure (eternal life), the treasure itself was freely given. This distinction is subtle, but critical to grasp.

To make it more apparent, consider a statement put forth by Edward Veale, the esteemed Puritan editor of Matthew Poole’s Annotations. In his work, “Whether the Good Works of Believers be Meritorious of Salvation,” Veale asserts:

"We acknowledge that obedience is required in a son before he comes to possess his inheritance; yet that obedience, though antecedent to his possessing that inheritance, is only the way in which he is to come to it; it is not meritorious of it. There is no right to the inheritance acquired by his obedience which he did not have before. The Israelites were to fight and subdue their enemies before they possessed the promised land; but their right to the possession of it they had before by the promise. And who can say that they were worthy of it merely because they fought for it?" (19)

Veale’s distinction between obedience and merit is helpful because it shows that something can be necessary without being meritorious. Every man must breathe to live, but who would argue that the use of his lungs has earned him the right to live? In the same way, saying that a man must work, strive, and labor to secure the possession of eternal life does not imply that he somehow earned it by that work.

To elucidate this, note that Veale describes salvation in filial rather than commercial terms. Unlike the wages that a man pays to his employee, an “inheritance” is what a loving father promises to give to his faithful son. In other words, wages are paid as a matter of debt, but inheritance is ever in the realm of Gift. (20)

Nevertheless, after all is said and done—and all the qualifications are in their place—the theologians of the Reformed tradition insisted on their common conviction: in light of the gracious provision and promise of eternal life, every man must do something in order to secure its possession. This was staunchly maintained by Herman Witsius (1636-1708), the great covenant theologian of the Dutch Reformed tradition. In the 16th chapter of his Irenicum, he cites numerous passages of Scripture to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that walking the path of active Christian piety is the only way to reach eternal life.

"Scripture teaches that a man must do something that he may obtain the possession of the salvation purchased by Christ. Paul expressly says, ‘Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling,’ Phil. 2:12. Neither because Christ is the way to life, is the practice of Christian piety therefore not the way to life. Christ is the way to life because he purchased us a right to life, but the practice of Christian piety is the way to life because thereby we go to its possession. And what does Christ himself understand by that narrow way which leadeth unto life, Matt. 7:14, but strict practice of Christian religion, which is called the way of salvation, Acts. 16:17. It is certain indeed that the true Christian lives to Christ, that is, to his glory: but it does not follow from thence that he does nothing for his own advantage." (21)

Our Evangelical Righteousness

One reason many Reformed Christians today have a hard time accepting the thesis of this paper is that their view of righteousness is deficient. In their minds, there is only one kind of righteousness, which they understand to be a sinless moral perfection in the eyes of God’s Law. In Question 62 of the Heidelberg Catechism, it is asked: “But why cannot our good works be the whole or part of our righteousness before God?” The answer is: “Because the righteousness which can stand before the judgment seat of God must be perfect throughout and entirely conformable to the divine law, but even our best works in this life are all imperfect and defiled with sin.”

It must be said that this reasoning is true, but only insofar as the righteousness in view is placed in a legal context, and salvation is something to be earned by the merits of good works. But when righteousness is defined in covenantal terms, with salvation as something to be obtained, the answer of the catechism simply does not apply. There is a difference here that must be maintained—not just of terms and definitions but of contexts and perspectives. So long as we are talking about meriting salvation, the Reformed are unanimously against the use of good works. However, when all notions of merit are stripped from the equation, and salvation is viewed in gracious, covenantal categories, the same theologians affirm that good works play a necessary and decisive role—even in the final vindication of the believer on the Last Day.

John Owen (1616-1683), arguably the greatest of the English puritan theologians, confirms this when he says:

"Suppose a person freely justified by the grace of God, through faith in the blood of Christ, without respect unto any works, obedience, or righteousness of his own, we do freely grant: (1) That God indispensably requires personal obedience of him; which may be called his evangelical righteousness. (2) That God approves of and accepts, in Christ, this righteousness so performed. (3) That hereby that faith whereby we are justified is evidenced, proved, and manifested in the sight of God and men. (4) That this righteousness is pleadable unto an acquittal against any charge from Satan, the world, or our own consciences. (5) That upon it we shall be declared righteous at the last day, and without it none shall be so." (22)

In this statement, the first and second propositions are especially important. According to Owen, God approves and accepts the righteousness performed by his people. But this is not the legal righteousness referred to in the Heidelberg Catechism. Rather, he describes it as an “evangelical righteousness,” consisting of the personal obedience of those united to Jesus Christ and empowered by the Holy Spirit. This righteousness is performed by the living and believing members of the covenant of grace.

In propositions three and four, Owen states that this righteousness functions in several ways, including as evidence of true faith and as the means by which all false accusations can be visibly disproved. Most importantly, however, Owen declares in the fifth proposition that it is “upon this righteousness” that we will be declared righteous on the Last Day, and that without it, none shall be declared righteous.

Rejected by Many Today

This language is often startling to those in Reformed churches today, partly because their pastors have departed from the convictions of previous generations, and partly because the average layman rarely (if ever) reads the Reformed theologians of the past for himself. Consequently, when he hears this teaching in a modern context, he doesn’t know how to respond. His knee-jerk reaction, and often to his own embarrassment, is to condemn it as heretical, not realizing that in doing so, he is anathematizing the fathers of his own Reformed Faith.
But for all the confusion and unnecessary controversy, one thing is unmistakably clear: for men like Bucer, Calvin, Zanchi, Rutherford, Turretin, Witsius, Owen, and many others, this was nothing more than plain, vanilla-flavored Reformed Theology.

Pastor Paul Liberati, 8/31/2024