This is the manuscript version of the second lesson I taught in a three-part series to the adult Sunday School class at the Bible Church of Buena Park in February of 2003. The first and third lessons are also available.
-------------------------

It’s good to be back with you this morning after what has been a frenzied week for me. It was another reminder that it is hard to be a teacher of God’s Word in your spare time, so I am very thankful to God that he has given us pastors who are willing and able to forsake other competing pursuits so they can pour their full energies into this one great vocation, the proclamation of the Word of God. As I told you last week, this is the first time I’ve taught a series of messages, and I can see already, even on this limited scale, that it is a real discipline to pour your heart out on Sunday, only to dive right back into the word come Monday and start the preparation process all over again.

I brought with me this morning a few copies of last week’s message for those who were not here or for those who want to take another look. You can also find a copy of it online at Loxafamosity.com. I told you I was a project man, and Loxafamosity is one of those projects, an online magazine that launched on January 1, 2000. It’s still awaiting it’s big break, but has slowly grown to include 41 articles, including a couple by our own Victor Longstreth.

What I have on paper, here, is close to, but not exactly, what you heard me teach last Sunday. This is a message, you will recall, that I preached primarily to myself, in response to my own wandering affections, and as I considered it further, I saw some loose ends that needed tightening. The primary revision deals with a weakness in the application of my second point, “Get in the game”. I was never satisfied with my explanation of what that means exactly, to get in the game spiritually. Here is what I finally concluded. I’ll just read it from last week’s revised manuscript.

Here is my council, to me first and also to you: Overextend yourself for the kingdom of God. Bite off way more than you can chew. Until we come to the end of our own abilities, we will never experience the desperation necessary to drive us to our knees in any meaningful way. If we live “small” and manageable Christian lives, avoiding all the extremes, we will likely be able to survive in our own strength and won’t have to trouble with anything like getting up in the morning to wrestle in prayer with the King. However, if we place ourselves in situations which put us in over our heads, we will, by necessity, be driven into constant and focused fellowship with the only One who can satisfy our souls. If we don’t delight in prayer, if our mind cannot focus on He who is an ever-present help in time of despair (Psalm 46:1), then we are obviously risking way too little for the kingdom of God. If we want to get into the game, we need to get in over our heads.

I am calling last week’s previously untitled message, “Rescuing Wayward Affections,” for that is what it entails. As way of review, I identified three culprits that contribute to my lack of focus and my failure to delight in God over and above all other competing desires. Number one: I do not remind myself each morning what is at stake in this fight of faith. For example, when I forget that I’m in a war, and I forget that the strength of the Spirit is my only hope for triumph, I become cavalier about my time with the Lord, viewing it as option rather than necessity (as if I could get by in my own strength) Number two: One of the reasons I fail to realize what’s at stake each morning is because I’m spending too much time on the sidelines and not in the game. If I was in over my head, I would know what’s at stake. Number three: One of the reasons I’m not in the game is because I’m trying to enjoy the promises of heaven while I’m still here on earth. In other words, I want a life of comfort and rest, not turmoil and risk. Therefore, I avoid those types of endeavors which put me on the front line of the battle.

While last week identified that which steals my focus and affection, this week and next will continue in the way of solution. And the solution, of course, lies in scripture so let’s go there, starting in Matthew 7, reading verses 21-23:

Not everyone who says to Me, “Lord, Lord” shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. Many will say to Me in that day, “Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name? And then I will declare to them, “I never knew you; depart from Me you who practice lawlessness!

For as long as I have been a Christian, I don’t think there has been a portion of Scripture that has scared me more than this one. By God’s own divine declaration, there will be many people who will come to the end of their earthly lives, and will stand before the judgment seat, expecting to enter the kingdom of heaven only to be ushered into the terror of hell. That, in itself, may not be all that remarkable, since most people seem to have a vague and ill-founded notion that they’re a good person deserving of heaven. What is notable (and tragic!) about this passage is that those who are being denied admission are religious people who have lived their lives with a false assurance of salvation. These are not desperate delusionals trying to enter heaven after a life of wanton immorality. These are people who, at least externally, did all the right things. They taught the Word of God, they cast out demons, they even performed miracles, and yet salvation eluded them. They expected eternal life, they were given eternal damnation. That is a scary thought, for all of us who think ourselves religious.

This morning, my intention is to make each of us feel very desperate, by examining some of the severe warnings that face us in Scripture. My hope is that in fostering our own sense of desperation, it will drive us closer to Christ for fear that we should run this race in vain, just as those described in Matthew seven. It is the desperate soul that will fight back fatigue, that will forsake the TV or the newspaper or whatever would keep them from renewing the mind and donning the full armor of God. It is the confident soul that sees no need to war or wrestle and run, and the soul which doesn’t war or wrestle or run is the soul that will not survive. It is important that we feel desperate. As way of clarification, when I say the “confident soul” I refer to the soul which finds confidence in it’s own strength, not the soul that finds confidence in the Lord. We should be confident in the Lord, but not in ourselves. “But he who glories, let him glory in the Lord” (II Cor. 10:17).

OK, back to desperation, this time in Hebrews 12:14. Catholics, I think, know this verse well, Protestants not so much. We need to know this verse. It reads, “Pursue peace with all people, and holiness, without which no one will see the Lord.”

Now there are basically two ways we could respond to this verse. We could say, “if I can just be ‘holy’ enough, then I can make it into heaven!”, or we could say, “Oh, God, if you don’t give me the grace to obey, then I am undone!” The first response seems to be the default mindset of fallen man and, on a more sophisticated level, is a pillar of Catholic doctrine (where you cooperate with God to actually become holy enough to merit entrance into the kingdom). The other response, the correct response, is a response of desperation, recognizing that we’re disqualified from ever meriting entrance to heaven long before we utter our first word or take our first step. We are united to Adam, united to his sin and thus united to his death (Romans 5:18,19). If we ever gain entrance to heaven it will be on the imputed righteousness of another, not the actual righteousness of ourselves (Romans 4:5). Our own righteousness is as filthy rags, so far as it’s ability to earn heaven. My intention this morning is not to examine the doctrine of justification at any significant level. It is a worthy study, but that isn’t my purpose today. What I do want to examine is the implication of Hebrews 12:14, without holiness, no one will see God. Too often Protestants don’t let the full weight of verses like this land on them. It is true we are saved through grace alone, by faith alone, but it is also true that holiness, or sanctification, is absolutely necessary to our final salvation. The path of holiness is the only path that leads to heaven.

I John 1:6-7 is a helpful passage in this regard, showing us that while growth in holiness is necessary for salvation, it is by no means the foundation of our salvation. Here’s what it says:

If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin.

Notice two things. First, those who “walk in the light” are not living perfect, sinless lives. Verse seven tells us that Christ’s blood is still the only thing that can cleanse them from all their sin. Secondly, since sin remains in the lives of those who “walk in the light”, then a person’s own realized holiness cannot be the basis for their admittance to heaven. Holiness is the necessary evidence of salvation (since those who walk in darkness are without the truth), but it is clearly not the foundation of salvation.