A Book of Salvation
A Book of Salvation
Perhaps no biblical word has suffered more from misuse and misunderstanding than the word “salvation.” Some of us Christians are to blame for the caricature of it which we have presented to the world. As a result, the word “salvation” has become for many a source of embarrassment, even an object of ridicule. We need to rescue it from the narrow concept to which we have often debased it. For “salvation” is a big and noble word, as I shall soon elaborate. Salvation is freedom. Yes, and renewal too; ultimately the renewal of the whole cosmos.
Now the supreme purpose of the Bible, Paul writes to Timothy, is to instruct its readers “for salvation.” This immediately indicates that Scripture has a practical purpose, and that this purpose is moral rather than intellectual. Or rather its intellectual instruction (its “wisdom,” as the Greek word implies) is given with a view to the moral experience called “salvation.”
In order to grasp more firmly this positive purpose of Scripture, it may be helpful to contrast it with some purposes it does not have.
First, the purpose of the Bible is not scientific. This is not to say that the teaching of Scripture and of science are in conflict with one another for, when we keep each to its proper sphere and discern what each is affirming, they are not. Indeed, if the God of truth is the author of both, they could not be. Nor is it to say that the two spheres never overlap and that nothing in the Bible has any scientific relevance, for the Bible does contain statements of fact which can be (and in many cases have been) scientifically verified. For example, a number of historical facts are recorded, such as that Nebuchadnezzar King of Babylon besieged, took and virtually destroyed Jerusalem, and that Jesus of Nazareth was born when Augustus was Emperor of Rome. What I am asserting rather is that, though the Bible may contain some science, the purpose of the Bible is not scientific.
Science (or at least natural science) is a body of knowledge painstakingly acquired by observation, experiment and induction. The purpose of God through Scripture, however, has been to disclose truths which could not be discovered by this method (called by scientists the “empirical” method), but would have remained unknown and undiscovered if he had not revealed them. For instance, science may be able to tell us something about man’s physical origins (even this is an open question); only the Bible reveals man’s nature, both his unique nobility as a creature made in the Creator’s image and his degradation as a self-centered sinner in revolt against his Creator.
Next, the purpose of the Bible is not literary. Some years ago a book was published entitled The Bible Designed to Be Read as Literature. It was beautifully produced. The traditional versearrangement was abandoned. And the layout indicated plainly what was poetry and what was prose. All this was helpful. Further, no one can deny, whatever his beliefs or disbeliefs, that the Bible does contain noble literature. It deals with the great themes of human life and destiny, and handles them with simplicity, insight and imagination. So fine was its original translation in some countries, such as England and Germany, that the Bible has become part of the nation’s literary heritage. Nevertheless, God did not design the Bible as great literature. It contains some glaring stylistic weaknesses. The New Testament was largely written in koiné Greek, the everyday language of market and office, and much of it lacks literary polish, even grammatical accuracy. The purpose of the Bible is to be found in its message, not in its style.
Thirdly, the purpose of the Bible is not philosophical. Of course Scripture contains profound wisdom, in fact the wisdom of God. But some of the great themes with which philosophers have always wrestled are not given a thorough treatment in Scripture. Take the great problems of suffering and evil. As phenomena of human experience they figure prominently throughout the Bible. On almost every page men and women sin, and men and women suffer. And some light is thrown—supremely by the cross—on both problems. But no ultimate explanation of either is offered, nor are the ways of God justified in relation to them, in terms acceptable to human philosophy. Even in the Book of Job, which concentrates on the problem of suffering, Job in the end humbles himself before God without understanding God’s providence. I think the reason is simply that the Bible is more a practical than a theoretical book. It is more concerned to tell us how to bear suffering and overcome evil than it is to philosophize about their origin and purpose.
So the Bible is primarily a book neither of science, nor of literature, nor of philosophy, but of salvation.
In saying this we must give the word “salvation” its broadest possible meaning. Salvation is far more than merely the forgiveness of sins. It includes the whole sweep of God’s purpose to redeem and restore humankind, and indeed all creation. What we claim for the Bible is that it unfolds God’s total plan.
It begins with the creation, so that we may know the divine likeness in which we were made, the obligations which we have repudiated and the heights from which we have fallen. We can understand neither what we are in sin nor what we may be by grace until we know what we once were by creation.
The Bible goes on to tell us how sin entered into the world, and death as a result of sin. It emphasizes the gravity of sin as a revolt against the authority of God our Creator and Lord, and the justice of his judgment upon it. There are many salutary warnings in Scripture about the perils of disobedience.
But the main thrust of the biblical message, as will be elaborated in chapter 5, is that God loves the very rebels who deserve nothing at his hand but judgment. Before time began, Scripture says, his plan of salvation took shape. It originated in his grace, his free and unmerited mercy. He made with Abraham a covenant of grace, promising through his posterity to bless all the families of the earth. The rest of the Old Testament is devoted to an account of his gracious dealings with Abraham’s posterity, the people of Israel. In spite of their obstinate rejection of his word, as it came to them through law and prophets, he never cast them off. They broke the covenant, not he.
The historical coming of Jesus Christ was in fulfillment of his covenant:
Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel,
because he has come and has redeemed his people.
He has raised up a horn of salvation for us
in the house of his servant David
(as he said through his holy prophets of long ago),
salvation from our enemies
and from the hand of all who hate us—
to show mercy to our fathers
and to remember his holy covenant,
the oath he swore to our father Abraham:
to rescue us from the hand of our enemies,
and to enable us to serve him without fear
in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.
It is important to observe that the promised “salvation” from “our enemies” is understood in terms of “holiness and righteousness” and—later in the same passage—of “the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God.”
So the New Testament concentrates on the outworking of this salvation, on the way of “forgiveness” and of “holiness” through Jesus Christ’s death, resurrection and gift of the Holy Spirit. The apostles emphasize that forgiveness is possible only through the sin-bearing death of Christ, and a new birth leading to a new life only through the Spirit of Christ. Then the Epistles are full of practical ethical instruction. As the New English Bible translates 2 Timothy 3:16, Scripture is profitable not only “for teaching the truth and refuting error” but “for reformation of manners and discipline in right living.” It also portrays Christ’s church as the society of the saved, who are called to a life of sacrificial service and witness in the world.
Finally, the New Testament authors insist that although God’s people have already in one sense been saved, in another their salvation lies still in the future. We are given the promise that one day our bodies will be redeemed. “In this hope we were saved” (Rom. 8:24). And in this final redemption the whole creation will somehow be involved. If we are to be clothed with new bodies, there is also going to be a new heaven and a new earth pervaded by righteousness alone. Then and only then, with no sin either in our nature or in our society, will God’s salvation be complete. The glorious liberty of God’s children will be the freedom to serve. God will be everything to everybody (Rom. 8:21; 1 Cor. 15:28).
Such is the comprehensive salvation set forth in Scripture. Conceived in a past eternity, achieved at a point in time and historically worked out in human experience, it will reach its consummation in the eternity of the future. The Bible is unique in its claim to instruct us for “such a great salvation” (Heb. 2:3).