My evening reading that night was Romans 1–8. As the final page fell, sleep seized me, and I drifted into a dream.

I stood outside of a courtroom called Judgment Seat. August and austere, that courthouse appeared to me as the one great destination of all the earth. I entered willingly, though I later wondered if I had any choice.

Inside, demons and angels swarmed. “Judgment,” I overheard one angel say to another, “must begin at the house of God.” I took my seat in the courtroom, although some eyes rested upon me as though I did not truly belong.

Before I could spare the matter another thought, the doors flung open, and silence grabbed each creature by the tongue. Even the malevolent ones, those gods of the nations, were reduced to muffled sneers. The man entered enchained, head fallen, Amartōlos1 his name — though he shuddered to own it. He moved, so it seemed, like a man to his execution. He sat down in his seat — called Shame — with strange willingness, judging by the surprise of one angel behind me, who claimed that most sat down only after a great struggle.

“Holy, holy, holy” shook the courtroom as the Judge took his seat, a sight that I can only now liken to the sun ascending his throne at high noon. The proceeding commenced, and the prosecution began their case by calling one Spirit of the Age to bear his testimony on behalf of his business partner, World.

First Witness: Spirit of the Age

“Judge and jury and good spirits among us,” the spirit began, “I wonder if you have not realized already one who has no true place among the congregation of the righteous.”

At this, I swallowed so hard I thought I heard it echo.

“This man” — pointing at the man they nicknamed Tolos — “oh, how reluctantly do I bear my witness to his disgrace before you, Great and Holy One! I wonder, did you not say in your great book of law that this man ought not to love the world or the things in the world? Indeed, you did. I have it here: ‘Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world’ — and note this next part, good Judge and jury — ‘the love of the Father is not in him.’2 Or, if you’d rather, ‘You adulterous people! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God.’3

“The precept is unmistakable, but did this poor villain transgress it? I submit as evidence the first two decades of his life — for the tree must be known by its fruit. Look with the eye of justice, not mercy — ‘Your eye shall not pity him’4 — and you will see ample proof in every word and deed. His whole life flows from one foul source. Unmistakably, he has served a willing slave to the lust of his eyes, the lust of his flesh, and the pride of life.5

“Consider how many varieties of sin lie before you now, sins cataloged by the apostle under divine inspiration: gossip, slander, hating of God, insolence, haughtiness, boasting, disobedience to parents, and even new inventions of evil.6 Look at the criminal — faithless, foolish, heartless, ruthless!7 What could be known about the Most High was plain to him — he knew well enough his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature — but the man neither honored God nor gave him any thanks.8 Instead, he exchanged the glory of the Most High for created things and went into partnership with me and my esteemed colleague here.9 He knew the truth but suppressed it in unrighteousness. Does the defendant deny any of these charges? Should he be true and God a liar?10 Is he not left ‘without excuse’?”11

The eyes of that other world focused on the man, who to them was no older than a boy. Without lifting his head, he stammered, “I have no defense, your Honor. Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgment.”12

Second: Accuser of the Brethren

At this, the proceedings might have ended, but the examination continued with a most adept prosecutor given the title Accuser of the Brethren.

“Excellent start, great Spirit. Now, I must state my relations to the defendant from the onset so as not to indulge unjust scales. The man before you is my son; from birth he has been mine, and I most fraternally his. We have the case clearly given in the eternal decrees: ‘Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning.’13 Or, a few verses further, the dividing line is drawn even plainer, the chasm more manifest — phanera, if I may quote the original. ‘By this it is evident who are the children of God, and who are the children of the devil: whoever does not practice righteousness is not of God, nor is the one who does not love his brother.’14

“Now, though I do not mean to inconvenience the cosmos with family matters, note that he is not merely guilty, but in fact he is my son and no son of the Most High. He is mine and shall share in my inheritance, come what may. Did not the Most High swear that the woman’s offspring and mine shall have ‘enmity’?15 And while I will not dispute the fact here, let it be known that in identifying with me, in following my course and my way, in producing my works, he cannot but share my fate — as the great laws clearly teach. If some form of justice should prosecute me, then justice, by that same principle, must prosecute mine. Equal scales, I now ask of the court.

“If the dead dog desires to refute my claim over him or deny his service to me, then I shall forgo my gracious manner in this assembly and hail accusations violent — and most true — upon him, my own son. Jealousy for his soul, you see, would drive me to it. He already admitted to sinning not just against law, but against you, the Most High — and the villain now attempts, I fear, to do the same to me. If I be his father, where, dear assembly, is my honor?”16

At this the man stirred not. Only a groan was heard: “Oh, wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?”17

Third: Conscience

Finally — and this witness was, in my opinion, as damning as the last — the man’s conscience spoke forth a fiery testimony against him, as though he had only this opportunity to speak after many years. Oh, how lengthy and eloquent and exact this witness! He read aloud numberless trespasses, many of which he had been present for, giving his most ardent protest, only to be harshly dispensed with, laughed at, mocked, and finally silenced. These deep secrets of the soul were stripped bare for the rest of us to see — of such an exhaustive nature that the Great Accuser himself recorded new evidence with smiling satisfaction. Rather would I live in a sewer, with most loathsome rats chewing my flesh and disease gnawing at my bones, than ever subject myself to such a precise and detailed record of my sins.

Tolos’s Plea

Finally, the man himself responded.

“I never knew to hate myself as I do at this moment,” Tolos replied, scanning the evidence. “What a villain I have been. My great pleasures have but stored up wrath for myself.18 My throat is an open grave, full of curses and bitterness.19 I have chosen ruin and misery and lived without the fear of God, not deeming it worthwhile to acknowledge him in my thoughts. My mouth is stopped. I am accountable to God. I stand condemned — and this by my own testimony.20 I plead guilty, guilty, guilty on all counts. If you have only justice to give, my due is wrath and fury unending.21

“But this is why I have come.” He finally lifted his head. “I have come to be tried before my time because I have read more in your Book than of law and my sin. ‘Righteousness apart from law’ — ‘the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe.’22 All seems a wide word to awaken my hope.

“I can be declared not guilty, legally innocent, and even positively righteous ‘by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.’23 When I, who am evil, give my children gifts, I do not expect them to pay me for it. An open hand is all I require. So, here is my hand — empty of its own merits, stained, tinctured with sin, culprit to countless crimes — yet open to receive mercy from nail-pierced hands. For as plainly as I’ve read the record of my crimes, I’ve read the record of my Savior’s merits. How he fulfilled every jot and tittle of the law. How he was sent ‘for sin’ to ‘condemn sin in the flesh’24 — condemning what stood to condemn me. Wretched man that I am, but wretched man was he made for me, ‘whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith.’25 I do receive him!

“The book says — and I faint to believe it — that to all who believe, the verdict upon a whole life of carnal wickedness has been punished at the tree. There you proved that God is ‘just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.’26 My plea is the same as Abraham’s, who ‘believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness.’27 This is the faith to justify and bequeath ‘peace with God.’28

“So, I bear witness against myself, yes, and plead most certainly and horribly guilty. But next, I draw the court’s full attention to the finished work of Jesus Christ on my behalf. By his blood, I am justified — and much more, he saves me from the wrath of God.29 I believe with my heart and am made righteous; I confess him and am promised salvation.30 I appeal not to the law of works — ‘for by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight.’31 I appeal to the law of faith, the law of the Spirit of life that sets me free from the law of sin and death.32 I hold, I can only hold, that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law.33 I draw your attention to the gospel decree:

To the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness, just as David also speaks of the blessing [my blessing!] of the one to whom God counts righteousness apart from works:

‘Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven,     and whose sins are covered;blessed is the man against whom the Lord will not count his sin.’34

“So, I have come of my own accord before being summoned by death, believing, simply believing. I have pled guilty; I am worthy of eternal death. But you, O Judge, have promised life to those who come, and you promise them a spotless righteousness, my Savior’s righteousness. He shall deliver me from this seat of shame, for I am promised, ‘Whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.’35 He bore my sin, wore my wrath, ‘was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification.’36 He is all my plea. If I be damned, come pry my arms from his feet, for there alone I cling.”

Verdict

A silence, a moment when even the gods are stilled, filled the courthouse. Then, a voice like the roar of many waters spoke from the throne words that shall be etched into my mind forever:

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”37

At this, the foundations of the courtroom rocked, shaken by howls quickly drowned in song. The small host of hellish spirits shrieked and shrank in fury while the mighty host burst into a new song to the Judge:

“Worthy are you to take the scroll     and to open its seals,for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God     from every tribe and language and people and nation,and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God,     and they shall reign on the earth.”38

And the Judge, looking rather annoyed by the blasphemous rage, cut short the cries of the fiends, exclaiming,

“Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? I am he who justifies. Who is to condemn? I am the one who died — more than that, who was raised — who sits at the right hand of power, who indeed is interceding for my people.”39

As the Judge closed the Book, I thought I glimpsed scars upon his hands and a name graven upon his palms: Amartōlos.

http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15861859/why-god-as-father-and-jesus-as-lord

Why is unity in the church so hard? If you’re like me, this question can prompt tears.

Mentioning tears tells you I’m not talking about disunity in the church in general. I’m talking about disunity in churches we know and love, and between Christians we know and love.

And for the most part, I’m not talking about disunity fueled by higher-level disagreements over primary Christian doctrines (ones that define the bounds of Christianity) or even secondary doctrines (ones that define, say, the bounds of a denomination). I’m talking about the far more common kind of disunity fueled by the endless variety of conflicts that break apart relationships, and even whole churches, because earnest, sincere Christians fail to humbly, gently, patiently “[bear] with one another in love” and cease being “eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:1–3).

If you’re like me, you’ve seen too much of this, and you wonder, sometimes with tears, “Why is unity in the church so hard?”

But, if you’re like me, this question might also reveal misguided assumptions we have about what Christian unity is supposed to be like. What I found lurking behind my question (and I don’t think I’m unusual here) was this assumption: unity between Christians who love and trust Jesus, are filled by his Spirit, and largely agree theologically, should not be this hard. It seems reasonable on its face. But a reasonable assumption doesn’t make a right assumption, especially when the Bible doesn’t support it.

Unity Has Always Been Hard

Don’t get me wrong: God is all for unity between God’s children. Scripture describes the experience of unity as “good and pleasant” (Psalm 133:1), and it commands all Christians to diligently pursue “being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord” (Philippians 2:2).

“The Bible nowhere promises that the pursuit of unity won’t be as hard as it often is.”

But nowhere in the Bible does God promise that the pursuit of unity, even among real, Spirit-filled, earnest Christians, won’t be as hard as it often is — any more than it promises that battling our indwelling sin won’t be as hard as it often is, or that suffering won’t be as devastating as it is, or that the whole endeavor of Christian love (of which pursuing unity is one aspect) won’t be as costly and humanly impossible as it is.

If anything, the fact that the New Testament records so many Christians struggling and failing to be unified should tip us off that unity is anything but easy. We only need to read through the letters of Paul to see this. Here’s just a small sampling of how often he addresses the issue of unity:

He reproves the Corinthians for their “quarrelling” and “divisions” (1 Corinthians 1:10–11).
He warns the Galatians against the dangers of “rivalries, dissensions, divisions” (Galatians 5:20).
He entreats “Euodia and . . . Syntyche [in Philippi] to agree in the Lord” and pleads with others to intervene (Philippians 4:2).
He instructs the Colossians, “Forgive each other as the Lord has forgiven you” (Colossians 3:13).
And he exhorts the Ephesians not to indulge in “corrupting talk” so as to “not grieve the Holy Spirit of God,” and to put away “all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander . . . along with all malice” (Ephesians 4:29–31).

I could quote many more. Which is why I say that the Bible doesn’t support our assumptions that Christian unity shouldn’t be as hard it is to attain and maintain. It’s been this hard since the earliest days of the church.

Why Unity Is Hard

Okay, so God doesn’t promise that unity won’t be hard — and, apparently, it’s always been hard. But that still leaves us with the question, “Why is unity in the church so hard?”

There are, of course, an endless number of factors. Consider that at any given time a church may be under heavy spiritual assault (Ephesians 6:12), infiltrated by wolves in sheep’s clothing (Acts 20:29), plagued by “rivalries, dissensions, divisions” stirred up by unbelievers who think they’re Christians (Galatians 5:19–21), trying to tempt immature believers to engage in partisan quarrels (1 Corinthians 3:1–4), and on and on.

But I’ll give two important high-level reasons we glean from Scripture for why unity in the church is as hard as it is — indeed, why, for our ultimate joy and his glory, God designed it to be as hard as it is.

Our Unity Refines Us

Scripture tells us that Jesus “himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness” (1 Peter 2:24). In other words, Jesus’s substitutionary, atoning death purchased the gift of our forgiveness (he “bore our sins”) and the gift of our holiness (“that we might die to sin and live to righteousness”). Our holiness is a gift of God’s grace. Which means anything God designs to transform us into the likeness of his holy Son is a great gift. But sanctifying gifts tend to arrive in painful packages, because learning to die to sin and live to righteousness is almost always hard and often painful.

“Our pursuit of unity is designed to give us many opportunities to die to our own sin and bear with the sin of others.”

That’s why “maintain[ing] the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3) is usually hard. Paul says it requires that we “put off [our] old self, which belongs to [our] former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires” — die to sin — “and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” — live to righteousness (Ephesians 4:22–24). Our pursuit of unity is designed to give us many opportunities to die to our own sin and bear with the sin of others.

Our Unity Exalts Christ

What image comes to mind when you hear Jesus’s words, “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35)? I tend to imagine some kind of idyllic Christian community of love — a kind of Christian community I’ve never seen, even in Scripture, even in those first sweet chapters of Acts.

What image did Jesus have in mind? We can see it in the previous verse: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another” (John 13:34). Jesus was about to “lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). And he told his friends (all of us) to love one another “just as I have loved you.” Jesus was envisioning a cruciform community of Christians whose sacrificial love for one another frequently required them to take “the form of a servant,” pick up their cross, and “count others more significant than [themselves]” (Philippians 2:3, 7).

The pursuit of unity is hard because the love of God is costly. The love of the Father and the Son was most clearly and climactically displayed on the cross, and so our love for one another is designed to publicly display Godlike love in the world. “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers” (1 John 3:16). That’s how all people will know we’re Jesus’s disciples.

Never Give Up

The pursuit of Christian unity in a local church is a high calling. It’s a means of our growing in Christlikeness through sanctification, and it’s a means of proclaiming the otherworldly love of Christ through demonstrating the otherworldly love of Christ in a love-starved world.

It can be a heartbreaking pursuit in view of how often we fail. But let’s keep it in perspective. It’s no less surprising that we too frequently fail to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace, than that we too frequently fail to continually abide in Jesus (John 15:4), strive for holiness (Hebrews 12:14), pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17), love our enemies (Luke 6:27), bless those who persecute us (Romans 12:14), or count it all joy when we experience various trials (James 1:2).

Let’s not allow our failures to obey to become excuses to keep disobeying. Let’s put the 1 John 1:9 grace of God on public display by confessing and repenting of our sins and receiving God’s and one another’s forgiveness. And then let’s put the tenacious, gracious love of God on display by resolving to never give up, “so far as it depends on [us]” (Romans 12:18), seeking to “maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”

Christian unity is a high call, and a hard call. In fact, it’s impossible apart from “the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:19), for apart from him we can do nothing (John 15:5). But that’s the way it’s supposed to be. For unity is not about fulfilling our idyllic expectations, but about displaying the reality of the redeeming, sanctifying love of God.