A Christian world view is bubbling over with resources to satisfy the aesthetic and dramatic needs of every human person.  It is more capable of doing this than any other view of the world. I am not asserting that only Christians can write good literature, tell a good story, make beautiful art, or write beautiful music. Such certainly is not the case. I am saying that the Christian view of the world—“The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof”– provides such a comprehensive and inescapable view of reality that any literature or other art form that reflects that view of reality has the intrinsic possibility of satisfying the emotional and aesthetic requirements of the human spirit. I lay no claim to possessing absolute insight into this area.  Rather, I am an amateur and run the risk of manifesting more aggressiveness than good sense in this assertion. Nevertheless, one need not be a great novelist or musician to discern that artistic expression is a vital area of human need. In addition, a bit of serious thought may really impress the thinker that the Christian faith embraces a multitude of possibilities for serious artistic inspiration.
Out of a staggering number of possibilities for productive interaction, elementary literary theory will provide the framework for our testing of the aesthetic power of the Christian faith. My intent is to illustrate that literary theory finds within the Christian faith a solid foundation for its assertions. One could also contend, though I will not seek to demonstrate this, that the Christian Faith provides the richest, most comprehensive background as well as the most fertile soil for the actual content of literature and other artistic expressions among the world views open to us.
This glance at literary theory obviously is not exhaustive, but only suggestive and tentative. One of the most fundamental concepts in literary theory is the idea of plot. Harry Shaw, in his Dictionary of Literary Terms has defined plot as “A plan or scheme to accomplish a purpose.” He says, “In literature, plot refers to the arrangement of events to achieve an intended effect.” He then describes a plot as “a series of carefully devised and interrelated actions that progresses through a struggle of opposing forces” (that is conflict) and conclude with a climax and a denouement. Shaw also points out the difference between plot and story. He employs the distinction of E. M. Forster. A story is a narrative of events arranged in their time sequence while a plot is a narrative of events in which the emphasis falls on causality. Forster illustrates: “The king died and then the queen died” is a story. “The king died, and then the queen died of grief” is a plot.
This definition of plot with its differentiation between story and plot focuses our attention upon causality.  The idea of cause and effect is a fundamental characteristic of plot.  In plot we do not see one event haphazardly following upon another event without any ultimate connection between the two things.  If that phenomenon persists in a book, we soon lay it aside or place it on the coffee table which contains books that no one reads anyway.  A plot must build and increase in intensity and complexity by introducing different sets of causes which have logical, though sometimes strange, effects.  This same literary critic, Harry Shaw describes cause and effect in this way:
Much of what one reads is the result of cause-and -effect relations.  When we read an answer to the question “Why did this happen?”  We are dealing in causes.  When we read the question “What will this do?”  The answers involved deal with effects.  A cause, therefore, is that which produces an effect, the person, idea, or force from which something results.
After giving examples of topic sentences in paragraphs which lead to cause and effect discussions within the paragraph Shaw concludes:
All life — and consequently all good literature — is concerned with why something begins to exist and why it exists the way it does.  A cause is the reason.  An effect is the result of the operation of a cause.  Cause and effect are necessarily related: Shakespeare’s Macbeth killed Duncan because of ambition and greed; the effect of the murder is the substance of a tragedy that leads to Macbeth’s total ruin.  Such a statement about Macbeth indicates that the total cause of any event is complex and involves an intricate joining of preceding forces and events; the total effects of any given cause extend beyond immediate results.
Therefore, in a good story an author will develop his plot by introducing a multiplicity of factors which we could define as causes, he will make clear to us the resultant effects of these causes, and will bring them all together finally in a coherent conclusion, every cause and every effect having its proper and well-defined relationship to the final solution of the story.  The author who cannot accomplish this in a credible fashion has failed to produce a good work of literature.
I would propose that the reason our minds demand that sort of organization to a plot is that God has created the world to work that way, and his making humans in his image has established n the mind the necessity for all things finally to resolve into a worthy purpose. The Bible begins with the cause of all the stories when it asserts “In the beginning God created the Heavens and the earth.”  When Scripture affirms in Ephesians 1:11 that God works all things after the counsel of his own will, and in Romans 8:28, “We know that all things work together for the good to them that love God and are the called according to his purpose,” then we indeed do know that all things have their designated place.
Such confidence results from the Christian doctrine of Providence.  In itself it is an assertion that eventually all causes and all effects will resolve themselves into the purpose of God, the author of this story. No loose ends will remain dangling, no factors will have been brought in that do not play their own part in the development of the plot.
I am not saying that God has accommodated himself to our view of what plot should be; I am saying that we have inescapably produced an understanding of plot based upon the way the world is and our minds are only satisfied when the story is told as it really should be, that is, in accord with the way God made the world.
According to Shaw, a plot includes a “a series of carefully devised and interrelated actions.”  An author must be careful to devise his actions carefully and interrelate them properly because he must bring them to a proper resolution.  The Bible represents all the events of the world as reflecting the relationship and interaction of man the creature with God the Creator.  Everything contributes to our understanding of the complexity of man’s involvement with sin and the ingenuity of his depravity but ultimately relates to the simple concept that man is in rebellion against the God who owns him. As this theme develops in complexity and force, a counter but complementary theme of redemption is introduced. It finds simultaneous development along with man’s depravity. It becomes so intricate that we see God’s redemptive purpose developing in the midst of man’s deceptive wickedness and even using it to bring the redemptive theme to a successful consummation. The story of Joseph’s being sold into Egyptian bondage by the evil intent of his brothers compels a complex interaction of emotion, outrage, understanding, and sympathy at the human level. Parallel to that, moreover, is the recognition that this very action on the part of his brothers was the plan of God for saving his chosen family from starvation. Through that preservation, the messianic nation is formed. We also see the interrelationship of these apparently disparate parts in Peter’s affirmation at Pentecost “This Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men” (Acts 2:23).  How much greater illustration do we need of the eventual resolution of two seemingly irreconcilable themes.
Scripture consistently presents the world story as developing a “series of carefully devised and interrelated actions.”  Reality works that way, because God, though infinite and ultimately incomprehensible in his intelligence and wisdom, is consistent and purposive. The human mind cannot rest satisfied with a fallacious picture of reality; we therefore require carefully devised and interrelated actions in any story, or plot, but especially in the story.
The second element of this definition of plot insists that this series “progresses through a struggle of opposing forces.” A plot cannot progress without conflict of some kind.  It may be severe internal strife on the part of a tragic hero. It may be the good guys vs. the bad guys, or the clever and sinister insinuation of a fiend trying to spoil the goodness and innocence of a heroine, or the opposing force may simply be the ridiculous and incongruous developments of a situation comedy. No matter what the story, some degree of conflict is necessary for resolution. That description exists because it is impossible for us to conceive of a tale of interest or of real accomplishment without conflict of some sort being involved.
For example, the following story would hold very little interest for the listeners (though indeed it may be extremely significant for the teller). “Yesterday I went to the post office and mailed my letters and went back home and drank a cup of coffee.  I also read the paper and really had a nice day.” Now it is wonderful to have a day like that, but not too wonderful to tell about it. Consider this option: “While on the way to the post office yesterday I had a flat tire.  When I stepped out of the car, I was abducted by two escapees from the State mental asylum who thought that I was an airplane. They were convinced that they could make a quick trip to beautiful downtown Shawnee, Oklahoma, if they could only find the proper runway from which to take off. I could not convince them that I wasn’t an airplane and so only escaped the trip to Shawnee by convincing them that I had already been flying all day and my arms were too tired for another trip. Eventually they were taken into custody by a couple of officers from the asylum who refused to believe that I too was not a resident of the asylum since I had spoken so convincingly about having flown all day. When they discovered their mistake, they were so chagrined that they fixed my flat tire and treated me to a cup of coffee. By this time the post office was closed and I had to wait until the next day to mail my letters. This upset my wife who was sending a special birthday card to her sister. That evening she had to call and explain why the card would not be on time. In the conversation, she was reminded that the birthday was not till next week, and was relieved that she had not been so early with the card as to muffle its joyful impact. She forgave me and was happy I had had such an unusual day.”
This is hardly an engaging literary style but the story is worth telling and the element of conflict provides a greater degree of interest than the lack thereof.  One who has read Tolkiens’ Lord of the Rings, or Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia or his Space trilogy or, Cormack McCarthy’s Blood Meridian can readily see how numerous are the possibilities for developing conflict as a necessary, literary device.  The element of conflict is a continuing reality in the Scripture from the subtle but vicious temptation of Eve by the Serpent until the twentieth chapter of Revelation when “the devil who had deceived them was thrown into the lake of fire and brimstone where the beast and the false prophet were, and they will be tormented day and night forever and ever” (Revelation 20:10).  The walk of the Christian is represented as a walk of conflict in which he wears the whole armor of God, for his warfare is against principalities and powers in heavenly places.
So, on the one hand, the biblical record grandly illustrates this literary principle; but even more important, it is the truth at the back of this biblical conflict that has given rise to our understanding that a plot progresses through a struggle of opposing forces.  We feel it in our bones and see it all around us, because that is the way things are.
The next element of plot is climax.  The climax is that point in the play, in which it becomes clear that the central motive will or will not be successful. It becomes clear which force is going to emerge victorious in the conflict.  One characteristic of many modern plays and movies is the significant absence of climax and denouement. This may not be a weakness in itself but is merely a confession on the playwright’s part that he does not know which side of the conflict should win and much less how the victory would finally be resolved into a satisfying conclusion. We see such a phenomenon in the movie of some years back called Kramer vs. Kramer. It ends the only way it could end; but the audience has some degree of frustration because both parents had compelling characteristics that won their sympathy and both had significant weaknesses. However, the very fact of frustration with that sort of ending is evidence that one’s mind does not stop there but recognizes the need for absolute judgment somewhere that will make clear what really should have happened.
The same thing would be true of the trial of Jesus if it were left at the stage of his condemnation. “When He was reviled, he reviled not in return. When he suffered, he did not threaten, but he trusted to him who judges justly.” That is true not only in the case of the trial of Jesus, but it is an aesthetic requirement of our minds. When climax fails to materialize in the story, our minds even unwittingly commit that judgment to the one who judges justly.
This tendency, in fact makes us restless until we can find answers to the unresolved questions that plague us. The question that we all have asked, “Did Scarlet get Rhett back or did she really not deserve to have him” gave rise to an attempt to resolve that aggravating uncertainty.
There are hundreds of examples, however, in which the climax is set forth very forcefully in the story, and the author who is successful in it and makes all the readers or onlookers feel that it justified, has the matchless gift of creation. Climax in the biblical account and in the real story of the world comes in the cross. When Jesus cried in a loud voice, “It is finished” the climax to all of history had come. In the cross the conflict between Jew and Gentile was over, God and man were reconciled, death was turned backwards, and all the demonic powers arrayed against God were put to flight. This is the victory that must occur or the world is senseless; this is the victory that must occur or every high hope and aspiration of our most noble moments is crushed to the ground and all is vanity. That unspeakable conflict entailed in the highest of all God’s creatures rebelling against the holy, righteous, and just creator and involving another of God’s high creations, man, in the rebellion came to its climax in the cross. That part of literary theory which demands climax within the plot finds its most irrefutable rationale in God’s action in the cross.
The final element of the plot is denouement. This word refers to the solution or the final untangling of the intricacies of a plot. What are the implications of a victory that is won.  The made-for-TV lawyer Perry Mason did this by explaining how he discerned who was the real culprit and tying all the bits of evidence together for the astounded viewer.  In Tolkien it is done by describing the righteous rule of the rightful king of middle earth, the cleansing of the shire, and the fading away of yesterday’s heroes with the sense that their purpose had been well fulfilled. Lewis sees all history culminating in the land of Narnia, and a train wreck, perhaps interpreted as tragic by those in England was not tragic at all but merely the door to Narnia, and more than Narnia, Aslan’s own country.  Denouement comes in the Bible story as Christ is resurrected to defeat death and its causes and returns in glory and splendor, and he will display such matchless beauty and such awesome power that every knee shall bow of things in heaven and things in earth and things under the earth, and every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the Glory of God the Father. Again, the final issue of this is described for us in the book of the Revelation.

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life bearing twelve crops of fruits, yielding its fruit each month.  And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.  No longer will there be any curse.  The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him.  They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night.  They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light.  And they will reign for ever and ever.  – Rev. 20:1-5

This conclusion gives literary satisfaction and objective justification to the thesis of our text: “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof, the world and those who dwell therein.” Holiness and righteousness will inhabit the final resolution which will be brought about because “the Lord of hosts, … the King of glory” has come in. This is the model for and the foundation of all denoument. Nothing but such an infinitely excellent conclusion to all things can satisfy the mind. It is that story-ending than which a greater can not be thought. It is the truth.

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Traditionally, the church has defined the Trinity in a particular way: one nature, three persons. A nature refers to what something is, while a person refers to who someone is. But how do we define three uncreated persons who share the same nature? Historically, we have done so through what is known as “Personal Relations,” as discussed in our previous article.

However, modern voices have proposed a new way to define the persons—by authority and submission. This view is commonly referred to as EFS (Eternal Functional Subordination) or ERAS (Eternal Relations of Authority and Submission – Note: I will use these two terms interchangeably throughout the article). Advocates of this position sought to defend traditional gender roles in the church and home—specifically, roles of authority and submission—by rooting them in the relationships within the Trinity. In doing so, they argued that these roles reflect how mankind is made in the image of God. Many thoughtful articles have been written on this issue (here and here).

Some have largely ignored this debate, assuming it pertains to doctrines unrelated to the gospel. However, I contend that Trinitarian errors necessarily lead to Christological errors, which, in turn, have direct implications for the gospel.

Most evangelicals claim to uphold the gospel—but how deep does that commitment go? Among those who affirm the Eternal Relations of Authority and Submission (ERAS), a disturbing inconsistency arises: they cannot, with any coherence, confess ERAS while affirming the doctrine of Christ’s active obedience—a central component of the gospel. This isn’t a minor quibble; it’s a crack at the foundation of what it means to know and worship the God of Scripture. This may sound harsh, but as we’ll see below it is a necessary concern.

Historically, evangelicalism has stood on the shoulders of giants, uniting under creeds like the Apostles’ Creed, Nicene Creed (325, 381), and Athanasian Creeds, as well as the Chalcedonian Definition (451). These documents articulate the essentials of Christianity. Unfortunately, today, a “lowest common denominator” mentality has crept in—how little can one believe and still squeak by as “orthodox?” Is there any reason to affirm these historic creeds? The kind of mindset that would ask these questions is one that robs the church of its rich theological heritage and compromises its gospel clarity.

In one such example, the controversy surrounding ERAS (Eternal Relations of Authority and Submission)—already a decade old—has exposed how far we’ve strayed. The fact that time-tested trinitarian grammar has been set aside in favor of novel approaches to explaining the Trinity indicates a massive theological drift. Others may wonder, “Why does it even matter? Do we really need all this complicated language about eternal modes of origin, subsistent relations, simplicity, or partitive exegesis? Isn’t it enough to just believe in Jesus?” Such questions reveal a tragic ignorance. There was a time when believers bled and died to preserve a proper understanding of God. Today, many shrug off these “abstract” debates as distractions from the “real” issues.

But make no mistake: the Trinity is not an optional add-on to the gospel—it is the very heart of the gospel. As Jesus declared, “This is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent” (John 17:3).

ERAS, as defined by its modern proponents, jeopardizes this knowledge. Its adherents walk a theological tightrope, their gospel being held together only by a gracious inconsistency. If we care about the salvation we proclaim, we cannot afford to compromise on this essential doctrine.

Against ERAS, there are three major points of contention that arise from a classical [or Reformed] perspective on the Trinity, Christology, and the gospel: 1) It undermines the authentic humanity of the Son. 2) It cannot properly define Christ’s law obedience. And 3) It misinterprets key texts regarding the Son.

In order to understand the relationship between God, Christ, and the Gospel, there are a few introductory doctrines we need to briefly visit.

The Virgin Birth and Authentic Humanity

The virgin birth, as recorded in Luke 1:35, establishes Christ’s humanity as truly human, yet miraculously conceived through the direct agency of the Triune God.

Authentic Humanity for Authentic Obedience

Christ’s obedience required an authentic human nature. Only as true man could He fulfill the positive demands of God’s law and endure its penal consequences. The Son’s incarnation, therefore, was not a passive submission but an active assumption of human nature, perfectly uniting the divine and human natures in His person. This ensures that His obedience, both active and passive, is fully efficacious for the salvation of sinners.

The incarnation’s theological precision is not an academic exercise but a vital safeguard for the gospel. By affirming the Son’s true humanity and the indivisible operations of the Trinity, we uphold the reality that salvation hinges on Christ’s obedience as the God-man—obedience made possible only by His authentic humanity.

The Son’s incarnation, was not a passive submission but an active assumption of human nature, perfectly uniting the divine and human natures in His person.

The Necessity of Christ’s Humanity

Hebrews 2:14 and 17 emphasize the importance of Christ’s authentic humanity: “He Himself likewise also partook of the same” and “He had to be made like His brethren in all things.” As man’s kinsman-redeemer, it was necessary that Christ share in the same nature as those He came to save. His humanity, derived from Mary, established both the natural and legal union required for Him to act as the federal head of His people. Without this authentic humanity, Christ could not merit justification or propitiation for sinners.

In summary, the hypostatic union safeguards the gospel by affirming both Christ’s true humanity and His divine identity. Only as the God-man could He mediate between God and man, fulfilling the law’s demands, defeating death, and accomplishing salvation. This profound union of natures underscores the necessity of a real, human obedience by the incarnate Son for the redemption of His people.

ERAS and the Will of the Son: A Theological Critique

Obedience as Divinity Undermines Humanity

If the Son’s obedience is understood as an act of His divinity, then the necessity of His humanity in fulfilling the law is undermined. According to the doctrine of the hypostatic union, Christ acts according to both natures—divine and human—based upon what is proper of each nature (Second London Baptist Confession of Faith, 8.7). If Christ obeyed the Father solely as God, then His human nature did not participate in the obedience required under the law, violating the biblical teaching that Christ was “born of a woman, born under the Law” (Gal. 4:4).

Furthermore, affirming that Christ’s obedience occurs in His divinity alone risks the error of conflating the natures or making them interchangeable. Such a position collapses the distinct properties of each nature and contradicts orthodox Christology, which carefully distinguishes between Christ’s divine and human actions. As the Confession emphasizes, “Christ, in the work of mediation, acts according to both natures, by each nature doing that which is proper to itself” (2LBCF 8.7)

An Aspect of Human Nature is Not Assumed

What Kind of Human Doesn’t Have a Will?

To suggest that the Son lacked a human will is to deny a fundamental aspect of human nature. Have you ever met a human that does not have a will? Could you even call such a thing an authentic human? Scripture portrays Christ’s human will in His submission to the Father, as seen in His prayer at Gethsemane: “Not my will, but Yours be done” (Luke 22:42). This passage demonstrates the distinct and obedient operation of Christ’s human will, fully submitted to the divine will of the Father. Without a human will, Christ would not have been truly human, which directly contradicts the Chalcedonian definition of Christ’s two complete natures united in one person.

That Which is Not Assumed is Not Redeemed

Gregory of Nazianzus famously stated,

“For that which He has not assumed He has not healed; but that which is united to His Godhead is also saved. If only half Adam fell, then that which Christ assumes and saves may be half also; but if the whole of his nature fell, it must be united to the whole nature of Him that was begotten, and so be saved as a whole.”[1]

This statement underscores the necessity of Christ assuming all aspects of human nature—including a human will—for the sake of redemption. If Christ did not assume a human will, then His obedience would not address the human condition in its entirety. At its most basic level, humanity’s rebellion against God involves the misuse of the human will. Thus, Christ’s obedience must include the proper exercise of a human will to redeem fallen humanity comprehensively. He must possess a human will so that His substitution, on behalf of those with sinful human wills, is complete.

The Necessity of the Incarnation for Obedience and Redemption

If Christ’s obedience is according to His divinity alone, the incarnation becomes superfluous for fulfilling the law’s demands. The purpose of the incarnation was to provide a true human mediator who could bear the law’s requirements and its curse on behalf of humanity (Gal. 3:13). A solely divine obedience cannot fulfill the law’s demands for human obedience, which require a true human representative under the law.

By locating will in the person rather than the nature, proponents of ERAS not only undermine orthodox Christology but also risk a deficient understanding of the incarnation’s relevance to salvation.

Christ’s role as the federal head of redeemed humanity (Rom. 5:18–19) necessitates that His obedience to the moral law be truly and fully human. For obedience to fulfill the requirements of God’s law, it must come from a human agent under that law. As Paul writes in Galatians 4:4, Christ was “born of a woman, born under the law.” This establishes His relationship to the moral law as one of obligation, certainly not as God, but as a man standing in the place of humanity. Peter Abelard (1079–1142) once observed, “When God made His Son man, He merely set Him under the law which He had given in common to all man.”[2] As God, Christ is the legislator, and as man, Christ was legally responsible.

The Son’s Relationship to the Moral Law as a Human Mediator

Christ’s Relationship to the Law as the Second Adam

Paul’s contrast between Adam and Christ in Romans 5:12–21 hinges on Christ’s role as the Second Adam, who succeeded where the first Adam failed. Adam’s failure was a human failure under the moral law, and thus redemption required a human success under the same law. The Son’s obedience as a man is necessary to establish the righteousness required for humanity’s justification.

Christ’s obedience must include the proper exercise of a human will to redeem fallen humanity comprehensively.

Under ERAS, the focus on the Son’s eternal submission risks introducing a hierarchical view of the Trinity that diminishes the distinct and necessary role of Christ’s human obedience under the law. By overemphasizing eternal submission, ERAS shifts the theological focus away from Christ’s incarnate role as the Second Adam, which is central to the gospel.

Misdefining Human Obedience and the Incarnation’s Purpose

The incarnation was not merely about the Son demonstrating submission to the Father; it was about the Son assuming humanity to fulfill the law’s demands as a human being. Human obedience to God’s law involves the exercise of a human will, informed by human experience, and executed within the constraints of human nature. This is precisely what Christ demonstrated during His earthly life, particularly in His active obedience (e.g., His perfect love for God and neighbor) and passive obedience (e.g., His submission to death on the cross).

Biblical Critique: Misinterpreting Texts Pertaining to the Son’s Humanity

Misapplication of Key Texts to Christ’s Divinity

Many biblical texts that affirm Christ’s obedience to God’s law are often mistakenly understood as referring to His divinity rather than His humanity by those who ascribe to ERAS. This misinterpretation undermines the soteriological significance of these texts by detaching them from the human obedience necessary for salvation. For example, Philippians 2:8 states that Christ “humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” This obedience, as the context makes clear, pertains to Christ’s incarnate humility, His taking on the form of a servant (Phil. 2:7), and His fulfilling the law as a man under its demands (Gal. 4:4).

To interpret such texts as referring to the Son’s divine nature or eternal submission within the Trinity distorts their meaning. Divine obedience is not subject to human requirements under the law. Instead, the Son’s obedience in these texts is an act of His incarnate humanity, wherein He fulfills the covenantal obligations necessary for redeeming His people.

When passages like John 4:34 (“My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me”) or Hebrews 10:7 (“I have come to do Your will, O God”) are framed primarily as divine submission within the Godhead, their soteriological significance is diminished. These verses, rightly understood, highlight the Son’s human obedience to the Father’s will in the economy of salvation, a necessary condition for His role as the federal head and mediator.

Obedience as Soteriologically Necessary for Humanity

If Christ’s obedience is interpreted primarily as a function of His divinity, it ceases to carry the soteriological weight necessary for humanity’s redemption. The moral law is not binding on God in His divine essence but is binding on humanity. Thus, for Christ to fulfill the law on behalf of His people, He had to do so as a man.

This is the heart of the gospel: that Christ’s obedience and righteousness as a man are imputed to believers for their justification. Romans 5:19 makes this explicit: “For as through the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, even so through the obedience of the One the many will be made righteous.” This obedience is clearly a reference to Christ’s human obedience as the Second Adam. Misinterpreting such texts as divine obedience undermines their direct application to salvation and justification.

Furthermore, Hebrews 5:8–9 states, “Although He was a Son, He learned obedience from the things which He suffered. And having been made perfect, He became to all those who obey Him the source of eternal salvation.” This learning and suffering are exclusive to Christ’s human experience; divinity cannot “learn” obedience or suffer. To attribute this obedience to the Son’s divine nature strips these verses of their salvific relevance by disconnecting them from Christ’s incarnate, lived obedience.

The Danger of Negating the Soteriological Relevance of Christ’s Humanity

Interpreting texts about Christ’s obedience as divine submission within the Trinity also risks undermining the distinct role of Christ’s human nature in the work of salvation. It is the obedience of Christ as the God-man—fully God and fully human—that satisfies God’s covenantal requirements. Without His perfect human obedience, there is no basis for the imputation of righteousness to believers.

Such misinterpretations often lead to theological distortions, such as a diminished view of imputed righteousness or a misunderstanding of the necessity of the incarnation. If Christ’s obedience is seen as an eternal divine act rather than a temporal, incarnate act, His redemptive work is abstracted from its biblical and covenantal context, leading to a theology that fails to account for the depth and breadth of His mediatorial work.

If Christ’s obedience is interpreted primarily as a function of His divinity, it ceases to carry the soteriological weight necessary for humanity’s redemption.

Misinterpreting texts about Christ’s obedience as referring to His divinity rather than His humanity severs their soteriological relevance. Redemption required a human fulfillment of God’s requirements, which Christ achieved in His incarnation. To relegate these acts of obedience to divine submission within the Trinity not only misreads the texts but also undermines the gospel itself. A proper understanding of these passages affirms that Christ, as the God-man, fulfilled the law’s demands as a human being on behalf of His people, securing their justification and salvation.

The doctrine of ERAS does not merely flirt with error—it strikes at the very heart of Christian theology. The stakes could not be higher: To adopt ERAS is to compromise the doctrine of God, fracture the unity of Christ’s person, and distort the gospel itself.

Compromising the Doctrine of God

ERAS undermines the orthodox understanding of the Trinity, introducing a hierarchy of authority and submission that collapses the eternal unity and equality of the divine persons. Scripture and historic confessions affirm that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are coequal in power, glory, and essence, inseparably united in will and action (2LBC, 2.3). Yet ERAS unravels this harmony, subordinating the Son eternally to the Father. This is an attack on the very nature of God. A God divided by hierarchy within Himself—either ontologically or “functionally”—is not the God of the Bible but an idol fashioned by human speculation. To accept such a distortion is to forsake the triune God confessed by the church through the centuries.

Fracturing the Unity of Christ

The implications of ERAS for the person of Christ are catastrophic. If the Son obeys according to His divinity, then His humanity is rendered unnecessary or incomplete. This mutilates the hypostatic union, creating a Christ who is neither truly God nor truly man in the way that Scripture testifies. In short, it denies the central tenet of the incarnation: that the Son assumed a complete human nature, including a human will, to fulfill the law and redeem fallen humanity.

Distorting the Gospel

ERAS distorts the soteriological relevance of Christ’s life and obedience, misinterpreting key biblical texts as acts of divine submission rather than human fulfillment of the law. This diminishes the significance of Christ’s active obedience as a man, which is the very basis for the imputation of righteousness to believers. If Christ’s obedience is primarily a function of His divine nature, then His human obedience becomes irrelevant, and the entire gospel collapses. Salvation is rooted in the obedient life, death, and resurrection of Christ as the God-man. To undermine His human obedience is to undermine the entire structure of justification, reconciliation, and redemption.

No Room for Compromise

ERAS is not a harmless theological curiosity; it is a Trojan horse carrying heretical implications that threaten the foundations of our faith. The integrity of the Trinity, the person of Christ, and the gospel itself are at stake.

The church must reject ERAS with the same vigor and conviction with which it has opposed Arianism, Nestorianism, and other errors throughout history. To tolerate ERAS is to place ourselves on the precipice of doctrinal ruin, inviting confusion and division into the body of Christ. As stewards of the truth, we can give no quarter to a doctrine that compromises the glory of the Triune God, fractures the person of Christ, and leaves sinners without a sufficient Savior.

ERAS must be named for what it is: a distortion of the faith once for all delivered to the saints. The church must stand firm, reject it unequivocally, and proclaim the truth of God’s Word with clarity and boldness. Let us not waver in this task, for the honor of God and the hope of the gospel are at stake.

[1] Gregory of Nazianzus, Letters of Saint Gregory Nazianzen, “To Cledonius the Priest Against Apollinarius,” NPNF2, trans., Charles Gordon Browne and James Edward Swallow, ed., Philip Schaff and Henry Wace (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2004), 7:440.

[2] Found in: à Brakel, The Christian’s Reasonable Service, 1:355.

The Continental Congress signed a Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776, establishing the 13 British Colonies as an independent nation to be called the United States of America.
Before Congress adjourned that day, they also passed the following resolution:

Resolved, that Dr. Franklin, Mr. J Adams and Mr. Jefferson, be a committee to bring in a device for a seal for the United States of America.

The task was more difficult than anyone expected and it took more than six years to complete. The seal that was finally adopted by Congress has at the very center an eagle with an olive branch in one talon and thirteen arrows in the other, symbolizing the nation’s commitment to both peace and strength. The beak of the eagle clinches a scroll on which is written, “E Pluribus Unum”—a Latin phrase which means, “out of many, one.” You can see the seal on the one-dollar bill and some United States coins. It is used to ratify treaties and to seal other important documents for the U.S. government.
“Out of many, one” was an important concept for the success of the new nation because prior to that they had been independent colonies with separate laws and charters. But to form a new nation that would indeed be united, those early colonists had to embrace the idea that, though they each maintained a sense of independent identity from each other, they would stand united with each other as a new nation.
That concept, E Pluribus Unum, is seen also in the way that the New Testament describes local churches under the lordship of Jesus Christ. A church is made up of individual Christians, but those individuals are united in a common confession, a common cause, and a common commitment to live together following Jesus Christ as Lord.
The Apostle Paul regularly draws on the analogy of a human body to explain the nature of the relationships that exist among church members. He does this in Romans 12:4-5; Ephesians 2:11-16, 3:6, 4:15-16; Colossians 1:18, 24, and then more extensively in 1 Corinthians 12:12-27.
Three vital dimensions of local church relationships are highlighted by understanding the church as the body of Christ. Every church of Christ is marked by unity, diversity, and interdependence. We see this in the way that a human body has been designed by God to function.
In Romans 12:4-5, Paul puts it like this: For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. Many members comprise one body—out of many, one. The interconnectedness that individual church members have with each other underscores the depth of unity that spiritually does and practically should characterize every local church.
Every church of Christ is marked by unity, diversity, and interdependence.
Members of a true church are “members of one another” (a phrase that Paul also uses in Ephesians 4:25). That is, in Christ and through the providential direction of our lives to unite with a particular church, Christians become spiritually joined to each other. This unity is not to be taken lightly nor easily dismissed. Rather, believers are obligated to live in ways that are “worthy of the calling” to which we have been called, which includes being “eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:1, 3).
Such genuine unity does not, however, mean uniformity. Church members are still individuals, each with his or her own unique personalities, gifts, experiences, and stations in life. The analogy of a church as a body demonstrates this point by highlighting the diversity of members.
“The members do not all have the same function.” That is, they have different designs to carry out different responsibilities. Paul makes this point even more starkly in 1 Corinthians 12. “If the foot should say, ‘Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, ‘Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose” (vv. 15-18).
God gifts His people in just the ways that He sees fit and our giftedness is to be used in service to the whole body. When this happens, then “the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love” (Ephesians 4:16). This truth compelled Charles Spurgeon to say, “This is one of the things we want very much—that every member of the Church should recognize that he is ordained to service.”
The unity in diversity that characterizes every church of Jesus Christ inevitably results in lives of interdependence among church members. Christians need each other and this mutual dependence is by God’s design for our own growth in grace. Again, in Paul’s extended illustration to the Corinthians, he writes,

The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it (1 Corinthians 12:21-27).

If a church is thinking rightly about what God has designed it to be it will both recognize and encourage this kind of interdependence. Weak members will not be despised nor strong members resented. The sense of belonging to something greater than our individual endeavors will be strong. Just as a broken arm traumatizes the whole body and a foot massage relaxes the whole person, so what happens to one church member affects the whole church.
God gifts His people in just the ways that He sees fit and our giftedness is to be used in service to the whole body.
The church is God’s idea. Jesus is the Head of every individual church that is worthy of the name. The call to follow Christ is a call to follow Him together. The Christian life is a team sport. You cannot successfully live it in isolation from other believers. The bonds of fellowship, encouragement, and discipleship that God has provided through the ministry of a local church are indispensable for vital spirituality.
Through committed membership in a local church a Christian’s weaknesses are strengthened, strengths are shared, eccentricities are exposed, sins are rebuked, gifts are utilized, and needs are met. It takes a church to grow a Christian.
So, praise God for His wisdom in creating the church. My counsel to every Christian is this: find a healthy church and build your life around it. By doing so you will not only be blessed, but will become a channel of blessing for others.

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