Sanctification, Sin, and Obedience: Before getting into this, I probably ought to say that I have had very little interaction with John MacArthur’s writings over the years. In fact, the last book of his I remember reading was Charismatic Chaos, probably around forty years ago. Coming out of my own background at the time, I have always remembered that book with appreciation because of how useful it was to me then.
Beyond that, however, I really have not followed him at all. I am not familiar with all the controversies, debates, and theological camps that have formed around his ministry. I have certainly heard plenty about Lordship Salvation, but if I am honest, I have never studied the subject enough to say that I completely understand what everyone means by the term.
Recently I was pointed toward a discussion entitled Sanctification, Sin, and Obedience, involving MacArthur and Phil Johnson. That title immediately caught my attention because sanctification is something I have been reconsidering rather seriously. So I want to approach it without a conclusion already settled in my mind. My interest is less in MacArthur as a person and more in the theological distinctions themselves. What is sanctification? What place does obedience have in the Christian life? What is the work of the indwelling Spirit? And perhaps most importantly, are we keeping law and gospel distinct enough that the finished work of Christ remains where it belongs – at the center of the Christian’s hope?
Interestingly enough, almost at the beginning he gives a definition of antinomianism, and once someone hears that word, they may already imagine a person who hates God’s law, despises obedience, and wants permission to sin. But if the question really concerns the meaning of sanctification, the believer’s relationship to the law, or the ground of assurance, then the label will only make those distinctions harder to see.
MacArthur’s definition includes several different ideas at once. “Behavior is unrelated to faith” is one claim. “Christians are not bound by any moral law” is another. “Justification and sanctification are radically separated” is a third. And “practical holiness is elective.” Wow, there is a lot there to unpack, and I’ll probably have to limit my thoughts for now, because I’m not sure every part of it necessarily belongs with the rest.
A person may believe very strongly that faith bears fruit while still questioning whether Scripture defines sanctification as a lifelong process of moral improvement. A person may believe obedience matters deeply while also believing that the Christian’s relationship to the law has fundamentally changed in Christ. That is why I would rather leave the label to the side for a moment and ask what the actual points of difference are.
Is the question whether Christians should obey God, or whether they are still under the law in the same sense they were before? Is the question whether grace produces fruit, or whether that fruit itself should be called progressive sanctification? Is the question whether the Christian life should manifest obedience and conformity to Christ, or whether sanctification itself is first and finally something we possess in Christ before anything is manifested in our walk?
One more thing about the word antinomian. Labels like this can become shortcuts that prejudice the discussion before it even begins. If a person is called antinomian, it is easy for others to assume that he must be denying obedience, fruit, or any meaningful place for Christian conduct. But that may not be the case at all. So for now, let’s set the label aside and ask some simpler questions. What does Scripture mean by sanctification? What does it mean when it says the believer is not under the law, but under grace? What place does obedience have in the life of faith? And above all, where is the Christian directed to look for his righteousness, his sanctification, and his assurance?
There is far more in those questions than I can possibly work through in one post, and many of them are subjects I have already written about at some length. So I am going to resist the temptation to chase every theological trail that opens up and instead focus on a few places in this discussion where I think the distinctions between law, gospel, sanctification, and obedience become especially important.
MacArthur seems to frame the issue as though the alternatives are fairly simple: either justification necessarily produces progressive sanctification and practical holiness, or else behavior is unrelated to faith and obedience becomes optional. But that leaves out another possibility entirely: justification and sanctification may both be complete realities in Christ, while obedience, growth, fruit, chastening, renewal, and conformity to Christ still belong very much to the believer’s life without becoming the definition or proof of sanctification itself.
That distinction matters because otherwise almost every discussion of Christian growth gets absorbed into the category of sanctification. Growth becomes sanctification. Obedience becomes sanctification. Mortification becomes sanctification. Fruit becomes sanctification. Perseverance becomes sanctification, &c., and before long, sanctification has become a broad name for the entire Christian life after conversion.
But is that actually how Scripture uses the word? That, to me, is one of the raw distinctions worth thinking about. We do not need to deny growth in order to question progressive sanctification. We do not need to deny obedience in order to question whether obedience measures sanctification. We do not need to deny the Spirit’s work in us in order to insist that our sanctification is found in Christ and rests upon His finished work.
And that also protects the gospel from being relocated. Once sanctification is measured primarily by what is taking place within the believer, it is inevitable that the eye begins to turn inward. Progress becomes the gauge. Obedience becomes the evidence. Fruit becomes the measure. And before long, the believer may find himself examining his own condition in order to determine what should already be settled for him in Christ.
But the gospel directs us the other way. It points us outside ourselves to Christ – to His righteousness, His obedience, His sacrifice, His finished work. From there, growth and obedience can remain where they belong: not as the foundation of sanctification, but as the fruit of grace in one who has already been sanctified in Christ.
Almost immediately after defining antinomianism, MacArthur moves to the believer’s relationship to the law:
“So, when we obey the law of God, we give ultimate honor to God. We affirm His holiness, and we seek to imitate His holiness.”
There is certainly a biblical sense in which believers are called to reflect the character of God: “Be ye holy; for I am holy.” I Peter 1:16. My question is what happens when that desire is framed in terms of our obedience to the law. The holiness of God does not merely provide us with something to imitate; it exposes us. His law reveals a righteousness so complete that every one of us falls short of it. That ought to make us cautious about speaking of obedience in ways that could blur the distinction between what the law requires and what Christ has accomplished for us.
But then he continues:
“That’s the highest and the noblest kind of worship. So, to come along and say that the law is unimportant is to say that the very nature of God and the will of God as reflected in His law is insignificant and unimportant, which I see as a blow or a strike against the very character of God.”
And here he does essentially the same thing he did with the definition of antinomianism. He frames the opposing position before allowing it to speak for itself. The alternative to his view is presented as saying that the law is “unimportant” and therefore as diminishing the character of God. But who said the law is unimportant? That is not the question at all. A person may hold the law in the highest possible regard – as holy, just, good, uncompromising, and utterly beyond the sinner’s ability to satisfy – while still asking what relationship the believer now has to it in Christ. That is very different from treating the law as insignificant. In fact, the very greatness of the law may be one reason we should hesitate to make our imperfect obedience the chief lens through which the Christian life is understood.
The real issue is not whether the law matters, but what place it occupies now that Christ has fulfilled it and the believer is said to be “not under the law, but under grace.” We may hold the law in the highest regard while still insisting that our obedience to it contributes nothing to the righteousness by which we stand before God.
The law has not become less holy because the believer is in Christ, nor has its demand been lowered to accommodate our weakness. If anything, the gospel causes us to see the law more clearly, because Christ alone has answered it perfectly. The law tells us what righteousness requires; the gospel tells us where that righteousness is found. The law exposes, condemns, and shuts every mouth. The gospel announces that Christ has fulfilled what we could never fulfill and accomplished what we could never accomplish. That distinction does not make obedience unimportant. It simply refuses to confuse the fruit of grace with the righteousness upon which the believer stands.
That is why we keep coming back to the question of sanctification. If sanctification is made primarily into a progressive work measured in the believer’s obedience, then the distinction between what Christ has accomplished and what the believer is doing begins to blur. But if Christ Himself is our sanctification, then obedience can be spoken of honestly – sometimes strong, sometimes weak, often mixed with failure – without making the believer’s fluctuating condition the measure of something God has already given him in Christ.
If this distinction is going to stand, it has to stand on Scripture. So before saying much more about obedience, I think we need to ask how the New Testament actually speaks about sanctification. Hebrews says, “we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all,” Hebrews 10:10. A few verses later, “by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified,” Hebrews 10:14. Paul says Christ “is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption,” I Corinthians 1:30. Those statements sound less like an unfinished moral process and more like something accomplished for us and possessed in Christ.
And this is where the distinction between law and gospel becomes especially important. The law can tell me what I ought to be. It can expose what I am not. It can command, condemn, and leave me without excuse. But sanctification, in these passages, is not presented as the law gradually succeeding in producing a better version of me. It is tied to Christ, His offering, and what God has already given in Him. That does not make obedience unnecessary; it simply keeps obedience from becoming the place where I look to determine whether I am sanctified.
So perhaps the real issue is not whether the Christian should obey, grow, bear fruit, or walk in a manner pleasing to God. Those things are not in question. The question is where we place them. Do they define sanctification, measure sanctification, and become part of the believer’s confidence before God? Or do they remain the fruit of a grace already given, flowing from a sanctification that is complete in Christ? That distinction may sound small, but I think it changes everything. Once obedience becomes the standard by which I assess my sanctification or my standing before God, the focus has shifted. The believer is no longer simply looking to Christ and then walking in the fruit of grace; he is beginning to look at the fruit in order to determine what only Christ can finally settle.
I suppose my concern comes down to this: once the Christian life is increasingly interpreted through progress, obedience, and inward evidence, Christ can become the foundation we affirm while something else becomes the place where we actually look. That is where we should become uneasy. The gospel does not merely introduce us to Christ and then send us inward to measure the results. It keeps bringing us back to Him. And if that sounds like too much emphasis on Christ, I am willing to take the risk. The Christian life may include growth, failure, discipline, obedience, fruit, and renewal, but none of those things can bear the weight of our confidence before God. That belongs to Christ alone. MPJ