That sinning is an incident, not a preventable tragedy,――

That Christians may reach in this life a state in which they cannot

sin, or where they are not subject to temptation,――

These are some of the contradictions of God’s revealed truth which

result in keeping Christians from having complete liberty in Christ and

freedom from sinning.

Back of the question, how far may we be free from sin is the further

problem, “What is sin?” and it is in answering this question that we

may fall into a fundamental misconception which leaves us confused when

reading the plain statements of Scripture. Many a supposed difference

among Christians regarding freedom from sinning rests back in a

difference in their definition of “sinning.” But this is far more

serious than a mere difference in the definition of a word, which might

be passed over as unimportant. For, as we shall see, if our use of the

word “sinning” differs from that which God means by sin, there is sure

to result a confusion which will affect our experience in the matter of

deliverance from sin.

There is substantial agreement that Christians should be, and may be,

free from dishonesty, lying, stealing, jealousy, strife, bitterness,

evil speaking, fornication, covetousness, and a thousand other sins

that might be named. Also it is agreed that it is not for Christians

to grow out of such sins, nor to get rid of them gradually, but to put

them off as wholly inconsistent with the Christian walk. How complete

is the list of such sins that a Christian may be free from just now? Or

to put the question in another form, how much sin is it necessary for a

Christian to have?

“But,” some one asks, “is not everything that falls short of God’s

absolute standard of perfection sin?” Our purpose in this study is

intensely practical, and so it is not the intention to enter into a

full discussion of theological terms. It may be suggested in passing

that many who use such an expression as “God’s absolute standard of

perfection,” would find great difficulty in explaining just what they

mean. But we may here get at the problem as it presents itself in

experience. All are agreed that there is no possibility of perfection

of attainment in this body, meaning by such perfection an absence of

all error or mistake in everything that is done. We may go further

and say that by this standard of “perfection” every act falls short,

and every moment of life is compassed with infirmity. If this kind of

“falling short” is sin, then there can be full agreement that there

is no such thing as freedom from sinning in this body. (It would

not be entirely accurate to say, “if this imperfection is sin,” for

“perfection,” like all words――and everything else human――is imperfect

and relative and takes its meaning from the thought in the mind of the

user.)

Is such falling short sinning? Or to reduce the question to practical

everyday experience, “Is every act of the Christian sinful, as well as

every word and thought?”

Three Bible teachers met together on one occasion to discuss the sin

question; before they began their conference one of them suggested

that they have prayer, and he led in petition for their guidance and

blessing. This brother, a theological professor and a Christian noted

for his holy living, contended that everything a Christian did was of

necessity tainted with sin because it fell short of “perfection.”

“Doctor,” one of the others asked, “is there not a difference between

the sin we committed when we prayed together at the beginning of our

conference and the sin I should commit if I were critical or bitter

against you?”

“Yes, there is a difference,” he replied (answering according to

Scripture and his common sense), “but” (answering according to his

theory) “it is a very dangerous thing to make distinctions between

sins.”

It is a disastrous thing _not_ to make distinction between these two

things. With one stroke we would blot out the difference between light

and darkness if we class together the act of a Christian who with

a heart full of love pours out his petition in imperfect words for

some needy one, and the act of a man who with his heart full of hate

runs a dagger through the heart of that same needy one. There is the

same infinity of difference between this “imperfect” prayer and the

critical or unloving attitude that the praying Christian might later

fall into.

Turning from men’s reasonings regarding sin to the Word of God, we find

these plain statements:

“My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye may not

sin” (1 John 2:1).

Something had been written, then, which revealed the secret of keeping

from sin as a present, practical experience for the child of God.

“What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may

abound?” (Rom. 6:1.)

“What then? shall we sin, because we are not under law, but under

grace?” (Rom. 6:15.)

God’s answer to both these questions, which is just one question put in

two ways, is the same: a strong, emphatic negative――“God forbid.”

There can be little question in the minds of any that what John means

by sinning in this first letter of his, and what Paul means by sinning

in Romans six, is something that a Christian should not and need not

do. He may be kept from sinning, in this meaning of the word.

It may well be asked, what other meaning of the word is there? If

we start out with the conception of sinning that makes every act of

a Christian to be tainted with sin, do not the Scriptures become a

real puzzle in their positive statements about keeping from sin? This

supposed difficulty has given rise to an attempted distinction between

“conscious” and “unconscious” sinning. Those who use these terms

do not always have the same distinction in mind, but some refer to

this falling short of “perfection” as “unconscious sinning,” adding

that such sin needs cleansing but involves no guilt.

But _all sin involves guilt_. God cannot do other than condemn sin,

whether in the Christian or in the unbeliever. Moreover, neither in

First John, nor in Romans six, nor anywhere in the New Testament is

there distinction made between “conscious” and “unconscious” sinning,

or “known” and “unknown” sins. These distinctions between sins are made

by men with the implication that we may be kept free from one kind of

sinning but not from the other. Does not this make void the word of God

by our traditions? For God says, through John, “My little children,

these things write I unto you, _that ye may not sin_.”

We shall avoid all such difficulties if we rid ourselves of the notion

that the sinfulness or the righteousness of a man’s act is to be judged

by some outside standard. God’s measure is an inside standard. Sin can

never be discovered in the act, but in the motive of the heart of the

man who performs the act. Two men go into a restaurant and hang up

their overcoats. Two other men in the restaurant take these overcoats

with them when they go out. One man has stolen an overcoat. The other

man has taken it by mistake, thinking he had brought his own overcoat

with him, and is much distressed when he finds he has another man’s

coat. But meanwhile both men have lost their coats. Nothing can be

determined as to whether sin is involved until you get to the heart

of the men who took the coats. One man sinned. The other man surely

came short of that perfect outward standard of action, and he should

not have been so thoughtless as to take the coat. The experience

will doubtless make him more careful in the future in avoiding such

a mistake. But he did not sin. And if our theory makes it necessary

for us to say that he sinned, then we have blotted out all moral

distinctions, and there is an end of urging men to come out of darkness

into light.

Since sin is in the motive of the heart, it becomes clear why a man

who is out of Christ is sinning all the time, in thought, word and

deed. He may do many moral things and live on a high plane judged by

man’s standard, but he is incapable of God’s righteousness. Only the

love of God shed abroad in the heart through the Holy Spirit can make

righteousness possible. A natural, unsaved man cannot please God in

anything that he does. That is why he must be born again before he is

capable of goodness. When he is saved he may love God with his whole

heart, and then he can and does please God. And let us remember that no

man can please God with sinning, whatever adjective is prefixed.

Another fruitful source of confusion in studying the Scripture

teachings regarding sin is the taking of Bible statements concerning

man in his natural state and applying them to the new creature in

Christ Jesus.

“There is none righteous, no, not one” (Rom. 3:10).

“There is none that doeth good, no, not so much as one” (Rom. 3:12).

“All have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23).

“In thy sight no man living is righteous” (Ps. 143:2).

These statements are used in Scripture to describe the condition of

all men outside of Jesus Christ the Saviour. To wrest these words from

their connection and apply them to saved men to prove that they are

not righteous and that they continually are coming short of the glory

of God, is to take all meaning and significance out of the language

of Scripture. It is because this is our natural state that we need a

Saviour. When He saves us, are we left in the same state? Some have

carried this strange use of the words of Scripture to the extent of

believing (or thinking that they believe) that Paul considered himself

still the chief of sinners after he was saved. He speaks of himself as

the chief of sinners for the very purpose of showing the greatness of

the grace of the Saviour which availed to save the chief of sinners,

and that grace was not found vain. But what would we say of a Saviour

whose grace abounded in such a way as still to leave Saul the chief of

sinners? That is not Paul’s Saviour, and that is not the way Christ’s

grace operates even in the lives of those true Christians who think

they believe themselves still to be unrighteous sinners.

Perhaps the Scripture that has suffered most from this method of

lifting it out from its environment is First John, one, eight: “If we

say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in

us.” A passage which was written for the express purpose of giving the

children of God the glad tidings that they need not sin, and pointing

out God’s provision for keeping them walking in the light, has somehow

become for many a stumbling block which keeps them in darkness.

Now whatever John, one, eight means it must be in accord with the later

word that these things he was writing that we may not sin. “And if any

man sin, we have an Advocate.” “_If any sin._” That means there is a

possibility of _not sinning_, as well as the admitted possibility of

sinning. He does not say “_When_ a Christian sins,” which would make

sin inevitable. Now if a Christian were sinning all the time, this

word of assurance against sinning, and also the word of comfort and

assurance for the Christian who has been overtaken in a fault would

be robbed of all meaning. First John, one, eight, therefore, cannot

mean that Christians are sinning continually, or if they are, the next

verses urge them to get out of that condition.

The literal rendering of this verse is, “If we say that we have not

sin,” or “If we say that we do not have sin.” The negative is an

adverb, not an adjective. The ordinary renderings, “If we say that we

have _no_ sin,” might encourage the assumption that the Apostle was

speaking of degrees of sin and warning against the thought of being

free from all sin. But sin is not something that can be divided; if

there is sin, there is sin, and it is not here a question of more or

less sin.

It will help also to remember that there is no independent First John,

one, eight in the Word. This sentence is part of a closely woven

argument running from the fifth verse of the first chapter to the sixth

verse of the second chapter. He is talking of fellowship with God,

which is an absolute thing in the sense that we either have perfect

fellowship or we do not have perfect fellowship, just as a man wants

perfect fellowship with his wife though the fellowship deepens and

becomes richer as the days go on. There is but one thing that can break

this fellowship with God, John says, and that is sin. For God is light

and in Him is no darkness, and the man that has fellowship must walk

in the light. Therefore man needs to be cleansed from sin so that he

may walk in the light, having fellowship. There were some in his day,

as in ours, who were saying that they had fellowship, though they were

walking in darkness. If we say that, we lie. But if we admit that we

cannot have fellowship and be in darkness, and are cleansed from sin in

the blood of Christ, then we may walk in the light. If we say that we

do not have sin, and therefore do not need this cleansing, we deceive

ourselves. But if we are not deceived in this way and confess our sins,

he is faithful and righteous to forgive us and to cleanse us from all

unrighteousness, so that we may walk in the light. If we say, as they

were saying in his day, that we have not sinned, we make God a liar,

for he has said that all men have sinned and come short of the glory of

God, and therefore need a Saviour. John is writing all of this for the

purpose of keeping these Christians from sinning, not for the purpose

of explaining to them that they must be sinning continually while they

are walking in the light. Sin breaks the fellowship, and before a man

sins he must step out of that light. This is the message of the whole

of First John. He may confess and be cleansed and restored to the

fellowship, walking in the light.

* * * * *

But was not John referring to Christians when he said “we”? Let us ask

if John meant that he and other Christians would say that they had

fellowship with God when they were walking in the darkness; or would

he and others say that they had not sinned, and thus make God a liar?

The “we,” of course, is used in the same sense as, “If _any one_ says

that he has fellowship with him.” It is the use of the first personal

pronoun that we ourselves continually make in stating universal truths.

Some have even brought consternation to rescue mission workers by

telling them never to use First John, one, nine for sinners, because

the “we” refers to Christians, and God is “faithful and just” to

forgive Christians, because they are under the covenant, while it is

of his mercy that he forgives sinners. But “he is the propitiation

for our sins; and not for ours only, but _also for the whole world_,”

and since God has given Christ to die for the world, it is of his

righteousness and justice to forgive every sinner the instant he turns

to the Saviour. This is not to say that it is not also of his mercy,

but as one has suggested it is mercy from start to finish, for the

Christian as well as the sinner. The rescue mission workers and other

soul winners may go on using this verse with a clear conscience, for

God will honor it both for sinners, and for Christians when they act

like sinners, and need to confess and be forgiven.

In _The Sunday School Times_ there was published recently a remarkable

testimony of one who was saved from Christian Science, and the verse

that brought conviction was First John, one, eight. “Why, that is just

what I have been doing,” this woman said in amazement to herself one

time when she read this verse. “I have been saying that I have no sin,

and I am deceived. I need a Saviour.” This is the Spirit’s use of that

passage; if it refers to Christians who have confessed their sins and

have accepted the Saviour and been cleansed from sin, there can remain

in it no convicting power for the one who has not confessed.

These brief suggestions upon this passage are given with the thought

of provoking further study, and the reader may still feel strongly

that First John, one, eight refers to Christians, whatever their

spiritual state may be. Let us grant that it does, and the Christian

then is confessing to God and to men, “I have sin.” Putting aside the

difficulty of understanding how it is possible for me to be without

condemnation for the sin, or how it is possible for me to walk in the

light in fellowship with God while I have this sin, let us face this

simple question, “When am I going to get rid of this sin?”

There are at least seven theories that have been suggested to answer

this question, and to get rid of the “root of sin” which it is supposed

John is dealing with when he says, “If we say that we have not sin, we

deceive ourselves.” All are agreed that without holiness no man shall

see God, and that this means actual holiness; and therefore all who

hold these different theories are agreed that this root of sin referred

to by John must be gotten out, or eradicated.

The first theory is _gradual eradication after death_, or gradual

purification, for which a place called purgatory is provided (by the

theology, not by the Lord). This theory of course is a matter of works

from start to finish, and perhaps no reader of these pages would

entertain it.

The second is _gradual eradication during life, with the completion of

the process at death_. In this theory the process during life makes no

real progress toward the consummation at death since all equally need

the work at death, whatever the degree of eradication during life.

The third is _increasing counteraction during life, with eradication at

death_. That is, the evil is not eradicated gradually during life but

is counteracted increasingly by the power of God, while remaining till

its removal at death.

The fourth is _eradication at death_. That is, the evil is unaffected

during life, and awaits death for its removal.

The fifth is _eradication at the coming of Christ_. But if we die we

enter into the presence of His holiness and need purity before this

event.

Few maintain this theory, except those who go the length of identifying

the root of sin with the physical body or with the blood, thus making

sin inhere in matter. This assumption is also needed to give support to

the second, third and fourth theories, for the only change that, takes

place at death is the separation of the spirit from the body.

The sixth is _eradication before death_, requiring a second work of

grace, subsequent to regeneration.

The seventh is _eradication at the moment of regeneration_, which

perhaps few in our day hold, though it has been earnestly contended for

in other days.

All of these eradication theories, with the exception of the last, make

necessary a second work of grace subsequent to regeneration. They mean

that God has to do something else to free a man from sin after he is

cleansed, by faith, in the blood of Christ, and made a new creature by

the operation of the Holy Spirit. For manifestly, if a Christian must

say, “I have sin,” he must get rid of that sin, and it must be done at

one of three times: before death, at death, or after death. Is there a

line of Scripture that gives support to any one of these six theories

of a second work of grace, or of the theory of eradication at the first

work of grace?

All of these theories rest upon the assumption that there is a “root of

sin” _in_ a man, in a mechanical, material sense, and that from this

root sin springs.

The Scripture testimony is that _the man himself is the root of sin_.

Sin springs from _him_. Our Lord said that out of the heart proceed

evil thoughts and deeds that defile the man. He was not speaking of the

heart as a physical or spiritual entity _in the man_, but showing the

Pharisees that righteousness or evil did not consist in the outward

acts or observances, but proceeded _from the man himself_. For the

heart is the man.

This natural man, who is himself the root of his sin, must be born

again. It is the man himself who is born again, made a new creature

in Christ Jesus. The heart, that is, the man himself, is purified by

faith, through the miracle work of the Holy Spirit. This new man, who

in the moment of regeneration has the fruit of the Spirit, his heart

filled with love, continues to have victory in Christ as he continues

to abide in Christ. “As therefore ye received Christ Jesus the Lord, so

walk in him” (Col. 2:6). This is God’s plan. It is because Christians

have not continued so walking, or perhaps because they have not known

clearly and fully the normal New Testament experience that should

result from “receiving” Christ Jesus, that there is need of a crisis

in the life, a decision to get back where we belong in the place of

abiding.

* * * * *

But why is it possible for this new creature to sin after he has so

received Christ? It has been assumed that there must be some root of

sin in the Christian that makes it possible for him to sin. It is

strange that this should be thought a necessity when we know that

Satan sinned, and Adam sinned, when they were sinless and had never

been tainted with any impurity. If it were _not_ possible for this new

creature to sin, he would be a machine; his very humanity would need to

be destroyed. If we accept as the alternative of this kind of Christian

a Christian who is provided with something in him which causes the sin,

we arrive at exactly the same conclusion with this difference: we have

a machine which cannot do anything except sin. Let it be understood

clearly that if a man in this body and in this life in the midst of

temptation is not able to sin then he is not able to be good. He can

sin for the same reason that he can be good, because he is a free moral

agent. That is the way God made him, and it is of the essence of his

humanity. Everywhere in Scripture the Christian is appealed to as one

who is responsible to choose. The reason that a Christian can sin is

because he still has his free will. And when he sins, it is not a root

of sin in him that sins. It is he who sins.

That first sin (which need not occur) after a man is made a new

creature in Christ, or after he has understood and taken Christ as his

Victory, is always a tragedy. Sin should always be a tragedy. It is not

an accident nor an incident. But if the man is not responsible, but has

something in him that makes sin necessary, then he cannot regard sin as

a preventable tragedy.

But it is not possible for God to sin, and yet he can be good. Here we

come to the heart of our confusion regarding a Christian’s goodness.

God not only can be good, He himself _is goodness_. He is holy in a

way that no man ever was or ever can be. For man’s holiness is never

absolute in this sense, but always relative. Not relative in the sense

that sin must be present, but relative because of the moment by moment

relationship with God, the Holy One. Therefore for the Christian to be

kept from sinning he must abide in Christ, and he cannot do other than

sin if left to himself. At the root of all these eradication theories

lies the assumption that man is to be made independently holy. But man

is a dependent creature. This is of the essence of humanity, altogether

apart from sin. Utter dependence on his creator and his Saviour (and

the Saviour is the creator of the new life) is the only safety for the

child of God. There is indeed no room for boasting nor for looking to

self when we learn God’s wondrous plan of salvation by grace.

Two Christian workers were talking together at the lunch table about

the question of what happened to a man when he is saved. One of the

brethren pointed to the granulated sugar in the bowl as representing

him as a lost man. He then took a spoon as representing the divine

life imparted in conversion, stuck it into the sugar, and said: “This

represents my new nature, and the sugar is still the same corrupt

nature. But I am in Christ as the sugar is in the bowl.” In other

words Christ is enclosing a mass of corruption with a righteous spark

injected into it.

Another Christian worker, representing what Christ did in saving him,

drew his coat about him so as to cover up his white vest, and said that

in just this way God clothes us with Christ’s righteousness, while we

remain a mass of corruption beneath.

Still another, putting these illustrations into theological terms,

said: “God imputes the righteousness of Christ to me in exactly the

same way as he imputes my sin to Christ. So that when God looks at me

he sees the righteousness of Christ, just as when he looks at Jesus he

sees my sin.” The implication is that righteousness touches me in just

the way that sin touches Christ, namely, it is as far from me as the

east is from the west.

These brethren are all true children of God, washed in the precious

blood of Christ. Fortunately they were not telling the truth about

themselves; more seriously they were maligning the Saviour, and while

the intellectual confusion may not keep them from victory in their

own lives it serves to entangle many an earnest seeker. And this sort

of handling of God’s word is what has furnished the enemies of the

Gospel of grace their chief weapons in attack. These statements, if

they are taken at their face value, constitute as complete a denial of

the God and Father of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ as Mrs. Eddy’s

philosophy of the denial of sin and the Saviour.

As Luther roused the Church by the battle cry of “Justification by

Faith,” let the complete truth of the complete Gospel be sounded to-day

in the cry of “Salvation by Faith.” For “it is of faith, that it may be

according to Grace” (Rom. 4:16). God never justifies a sinner without

saving him. That is, he does not call a man righteous without making

him righteous. If he did, God would be in the place of the man whom

James condemns, who says to the brother or sister naked and in need

of daily food: “Go in peace, be ye warmed and filled,” yet gives them

not the things needful to the body. “What doth it profit?” James asks.

“Even so faith, if it have not works, is dead in itself” (Jas. 2:15-17).

Even so would the calling a man righteous without making him righteous

be useless for the soul that is naked and destitute of righteousness.

Justification, in the sense of “declaring righteous,” is dead apart

from the miracle of cleansing and regeneration which _makes righteous_.

And we need righteousness, just as the naked and hungry man needs

clothing and food, _now in this life_. There is no hope held out for

any future provision of freeing from sin. There is still a part of our

redemption from sin and its results that is future, but very distinctly

are we told that this concerns the redemption of our body, not the

purifying of the soul. (Using purifying in its negative meaning of

cleansing from impurity. For we must remember that there is a positive,

progressive, and increasing work in conforming us to the likeness of

Christ which is quite distinct from this matter of cleansing, which is

always absolute; we are either cleansed or we are not cleansed from

sin.)

The works that James insists on as a proof that the faith is real

faith, are possible only for the new creature in Christ, who is

producing the fruit of the Spirit as he abides in Christ, the fruit

which is the righteousness of Christ made real in experience, and

abounding more and more as we grow in grace (not into grace), and the

knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

Not a half salvation of “justification by faith” to take care of the

past only of our sins, but let our watchword be a complete salvation

of “CHRIST BY FAITH.” For it is Christ that saves from sin, who makes

a new creation with old things put away, and who provides a way of

abiding in that freedom, walking in joy and peace and victory, just as

we received Him in freedom.

“If, therefore, the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.”

“Being made free from sin, ye became servants of righteousness.”

“Now being made free from sin and become servants of God, ye have your

fruit unto sanctification.”

“For freedom did Christ set us free: Stand fast therefore, and be not

entangled again in a yoke of bondage.”

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