Provisional Salvation: Yesterday morning, while driving to work, I tuned in to a sermon entitled: “The Day of Christ’s Return.” For a moment, I wondered if perhaps I had missed an announcement, some newly discovered date, some long-withheld detail that I ought to know so I could begin making whatever last-minute preparations might be required. Well, I did not learn the date of Christ’s return. Ironically, the message said very little about the day itself, but it said a great deal about the gospel. And what it said about the gospel was very troubling.
First, let’s determine whether the speaker is a Calvinist or an Arminian. That distinction matters for the direction of this post, which will become clearer as we go. These are his words: “Some may not believe that God sovereignly chooses both salvation and damnation. But if He did not, He would not be God. The word is right there in verse 13. God has from the beginning of creation chosen that believer for salvation. It’s unavoidable. The word is there. Scripture teaches it. This vital doctrine, known as double predestination, is taught in Scripture. In essence, God in eternity past chose certain souls for eternal life, and he also chose the rest for eternal damnation.” He goes on to cite Romans 9:21-23, and concludes: “There you have it. Double predestination. And God in His sovereignty has every right to do that.” Sounds like Calvinism to me.
Now, in defining the gospel he makes this statement: “But the good news, the great news is this. For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, Jesus, who was fully God and fully man. He lived a sinless life, and then he died on the cross and paid for the sins of those who would believe in him.” This actually sounds kinda good, even orthodox at a glance, but in truth it’s a deadly statement that I’ve heard many times. And each time I hear it, I just cringe inside, because I recognize the move being made, and I know what that sentence does to the cross. Christ’s death is affirmed with the lips while its saving power is quietly drained away in the definition.
This statement denies the gospel because it locates the decisive act of salvation not in Christ’s death, but in the sinner’s response. Faith is no longer the fruit of redemption, but the cause that gives Christ’s death its saving value. The one place where God actually dealt with sin is turned into a conditional gesture, a half-finished work. This is not an overreaction or a matter of tone; it is the unavoidable consequence of placing faith where Scripture places the cross. When Christ is reduced and the gospel is tampered with, it becomes personal, as there arises what I can only describe as an instinctive recoil against language that subverts the gospel.
This way of defining the gospel confesses election with one breath and denies particular redemption with the next. It leaves us with a sovereign decree that accomplishes nothing until the sinner ratifies it by believing. However familiar or “reformed” this language may sound, it subverts the gospel entirely by making Christ’s death dependent rather than decisive. It denies that Christ actually bore the sins of a real people and put them away by His death. This is not a small misstatement or an unfortunate choice of words; it is a reversal of the gospel itself. A cross that saves no one until man believes is not the cross preached in Scripture.
Here is where the problem becomes unmistakable. The phrase “those who would believe” does not describe a people actually redeemed, but a class yet to be determined. It presents Christ’s death not as an accomplished act of salvation, but as a payment held in reserve, waiting on faith to activate it. What is most troubling is not that this comes from a man who denies election, but from one who loudly affirms it. We are told that God chose a people before the foundation of the world, that Christ came with a definite purpose, and yet we are asked to believe that His death only becomes effective if the sinner meets a condition afterward. In this scheme, Christ no longer saves His people from their sins; He merely makes salvation available to those who later qualify themselves by believing.
Let’s move on, as the speaker goes on to delineate the “gospel” when he comes to this point: “Point number four, lastly, if you repent of your sins and put your faith in Jesus Christ as your Lord, God, and Savior, you have eternal life. Quick word here about repentance and faith. They’re two sides of the same coin. You cannot turn to put your faith in Christ unless you first repent of your sins. Repent in order to put your faith in Jesus Christ. You must turn, reject, repent from your sins and put your faith in Jesus as your Lord, God and Savior. And at the moment that you do, the Bible says you are born again. That’s how you gain eternal life. That’s the gospel.”
That sounds like a great formula! The gospel is no longer something declared, but something carefully laid out, step by step, condition by condition, with precise instructions on how one “gains” eternal life. Repent, then believe, and at the moment you get it right, eternal life is yours. It all sounds very manageable, a sequence of steps the sinner must follow in the proper order if eternal life is to be reached. In the end, it reads less like the proclamation of Christ’s finished work and more like instructions for reaching a destination. When Scripture speaks of repentance and faith, it refuses to cast them as conditions that activate salvation. They are not steps the sinner must take to obtain life, but the inevitable response of those whom God has already brought from death to life. The gospel does not offer life contingent upon repentance and faith; it proclaims life in Christ, from which repentance and faith necessarily flow.
“And at the moment that you do, the Bible says you are born again.” This statement, in and of itself, sounds disturbingly mechanical. The weight of the statement rests entirely on the moment that you do. The cross fades into the background, and the sinner’s action steps into the foreground. Eternal life is no longer something bestowed by God in Christ, but something activated by the right combination of repentance and belief, and the gospel becomes less about Christ’s finished work and more about identifying the precise moment one qualifies for life. It is, quite literally, the old “Roman Road” repaved. New terminology, same destination, and the same fatal error of placing the decisive moment of salvation in the hands of man rather than in the finished work of Christ.
One more quotation which comes at the end of this message: “God’s general call is his universal invitation to all people for them to repent and believe in the gospel. It’s just like what I’ve done here in this pulpit a few minutes ago. That’s a general call. When I preach the gospel, that’s a general call. God’s general call is offered to everyone, even those who do not accept it, and is expressive of God’s desire for all to come to repentance and salvation.” That “desire” language is something I cannot stomach because it reduces the living God to a frustrated desirer, one whose will is divided between what He wants and what He does. It recasts the Almighty not as the One who works all things after the counsel of His will, but as one whose purposes wait upon the creature for their fulfillment. The so-called “general call” becomes a theatrical gesture, an invitation extended to those for whom no provision has been made and for whom no saving intention exists. Scripture knows no such God.
Apart from misrepresenting the gospel and carving an idol from the Scriptures, what troubles me most is that Christ Himself is no longer the message. He is spoken of, appealed to, and insisted upon, but not received as the actual salvation of His people. The gospel is no longer the joyful declaration of what God has accomplished in His Son, but a set of directions for how man must obtain what Christ has only made available. Whatever else this may be, it is not the gospel proclaimed by the apostles. This is not good news. MPJ