We Are Saved By Our Works – Part 1

thoughts on restitution

Let’s start with this brief text from Luke:

Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” Then Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house…”

I’ll admit the essay title is a bit click-bait-y, but I deeply believe in its core affirmation. It will take a few posts to flesh out in its entirety, but bear with me. Once I’m finished with the series, if you still reject its central axiom, then fair enough.

But, for now:
We are, in fact, saved by our works.

I’m fully aware that such an idea is typically anathema, a wholesale violation of the Pauline doctrine of justification, a forfeiture of the Reformation, a schema that causes us to retreat back into an “earn your way to Heaven” sort of proposition where no one can measure up. The terms “salvation” and “works” being in the same sentence automatically sends us to the all-too-familiar arguments between law versus grace, “works-righteousness” versus justification by faith, and so forth. The battle cry of the Reformation rings loud and clear in our ears: Sola Fide, Sola Gratia!

Salvation by works tends to be viewed as an affront to the power of the cross as well, a “different gospel” predicated on man’s good deeds rather than the saving act of Jesus alone. And, because of this, certain mantras have developed across time; statements that sound solid but are ultimately vacuous.

For example, it is common advice for someone who’s struggling with sin to “rest in grace” and “stop striving,” or to abandon your “works-righteousness” and trade it for “Christ’s righteousness,” – concepts that are fine I guess, as far as it goes. But, does it really help? Does merely thinking differently about myself, forming and shaping a new positive image, really do the work of freeing me from sin and sinful patterns?

The deeper friction is when this is pushed to the logical ends of Heaven and Hell. We are insistent that we cannot earn our way into Heaven; that salvation and eternal life are free gifts liberally bestowed by the Father to those who receive Christ by faith and the very foundation of our hope rests in an unmerited and unearned rescue from perdition.

To that I respond with a loud, “Amen!!”

Nevertheless, I think therein lies the issue – our definitions and categories of “salvation” are solely centered on the concepts of Heaven and Hell. To be “saved” is to be destined for Heaven, and to be “lost” is to be destined for Hell.

Again, “Amen!”

But, for both Jesus and Paul, the notion of salvation is much more encompassing than simply answering the question of where do you go when you die.

To begin, we know we are a particular type of creature – we are humans, human beings, human creatures. To be this type of creature means something unique that nothing else in creation shares with us: we are the image-bearers of God. When we read the introductory chapter to our Bibles, the Genesis creation account, it becomes stunningly clear what God is doing. He is making a garden which is to serve as a temple. And, just like any god would do, once the temple is complete, the finishing touch is to put an image of himself in that temple. Hence, why humans are created at the end of the creation week. God builds a temple and then puts his own picture there.

We are that picture, that image.

Then, of course, we understand that the entrance of sin distorted and thwarted that picture. The image of God has been dashed to pieces in us; it is still there, just fragmented and blurred, broken and fractured. And so the restoration of that image – becoming fully human in that we reflect God’s witness into the world – that restitution must also be what is in view when we talk about “salvation.” Elementary Christian teaching affirms that Christ is the image of both God and the true human. Therefore, our “saving” is to be brought into this fullness, into this image – into Christlikeness. We are not just saved from Hell and to Heaven; we are saved from the sin that unmakes us and unto the holiness that is our fullness, our portion.

This is why Jesus, Paul, James – the entire New Testament – are always giving us such commands like: love your neighbor, rid yourself of pride, humble yourself, be angry but do not sin, crucify your flesh with its desires, do not gossip, put off the old man, and so forth.

This is what is in view in the Luke text above. Zacchaeus’ “repentance” (it is striking, I think, that we have no record of a sermon by Jesus) looks like a particular work. And not just any work. A work that brings restitution to what his sin had stolen, thwarted, and harmed. Once that act is named, Jesus calls it “salvation.”

The traditional doctrine of holiness centers around the language of virtue and vice. This is where we get the ideas of capital sins, theological virtues, predominant faults, etc. And the Church’s response to vice would not have been to simply “believe” something different or embrace your new “identity.” The early Christian era would not have understood our telling someone gripped with, say, deep greed or envy or lust, to “become less sin-conscious.” Instead, the spiritual direction would have been to perform certain duties, certain actions, that move you toward the type of human that is after Christ. The response would have been to actively engage in the cultivation of the virtues that are the direct opposite to each vice by granular, penitential acts that would heal your nature toward Christlikeness.

For example, if pride were your vice, then the response would not be “trade your righteousness for His” or some other mindless statement. It would be to actively cultivate the opposite virtue – humility! And this is fostered by performing certain habits of humility that would shape and form you in the opposing direction that pride had taken you. This “re-formation” is named salvation.

Part two will include more on the virtues and vices.

For now, rest assured we are “saved” by our works.