20. The Calling.
Discuss the Holy Spirit's work in comforting and guiding believers versus His role in convicting the world of sin, righteousness, and judgment.
8. How does the unity of the Church, as described in the chapter, reflect the work of the Holy Spirit?
Reflect on how the Holy Spirit creates and sustains the unity and fellowship of the Church, making it one body in Christ.
9. What is the importance of the extraordinary gifts of the Holy Spirit in the early Church, and how do they differ from His ongoing work today?
Consider the role of miraculous gifts in the early Church and how the Spirit's work continues in different forms in the present day.
10. How does the Holy Spirit's indwelling presence guarantee the believers' future inheritance and resurrection?
Reflect on the Holy Spirit as a seal and guarantee of the believers' future hope, including their resurrection and eternal life with God.
20. The Calling.
To make us partakers of this communion with His person and His benefits, Christ employs not only the Spirit, whom He poured out upon the congregation, but also the Word, which He gave to instruct and guide it. He has linked the two in such a manner that together they serve in the exercise of His prophetic, priestly, and royal office.
Yet, comprehending this relationship and defining it clearly has always posed a challenge; various views about the relationship between the Word and the Spirit have existed through the ages and persist to this day.
On one side are those who regard the preaching of the Word as sufficient, disregarding the necessity of the Spirit's work. Followers of Pelagius, both in ancient times and in later periods, have been guilty of this error. They perceive Christianity solely as a doctrine, view Jesus merely as an exalted example, and reduce the Gospel to a new law. Believing that man, though weakened by sin, has not died spiritually and retains the freedom of will, they argue that the Gospel's preaching alone suffices to lead man to repentance if he so chooses and to guide him in following Jesus' example. They feel no need for the regenerating action of the Holy Spirit; they deny and contest His personality and divinity. At best, they consider the Holy
Spirit merely as a force emanating from God, or more precisely, from the person of Jesus, fostering a moral disposition and an ideal will within the congregation.
Conversely, there are those known as "spiritists" (antinomians, enthusiasts, mystics) who emphasize the Spirit's work while underestimating the Word's role in converting people. To them, the Word (Scripture, the Gospel's preaching) is not the spiritual reality itself but merely a sign and symbol of it; by itself, it is a dead letter
that cannot penetrate the human heart and implant the principle of new life. At most, it has an instructive effect but lacks the power to transform the heart. This transformation occurs solely through the Holy Spirit, who directly from God penetrates the innermost being of man, making him partakers of the spiritual reality signified by the Word. Thus, the spiritual man is born of God and taught by God, alone understands the Scriptures, transcends their letter to grasp their heart and essence, and uses them as a standard and guide temporarily. However, the Scriptures are not truly the source of his religious knowledge, for he is internally taught by the Spirit of God and gradually grows beyond the Scriptures.
As the Spirit's workings within the heart become increasingly independent of Scripture, they also detach from the person of Christ and historical Christianity as a whole. Mysticism then evolves into rationalism. When the inner working of the Spirit is separated from the Word of Scripture, it loses its distinctive character and can no longer be distinguished from God's ordinary working in human reason and conscience. God's Spirit naturally dwells in each person; the inner word is inscribed in each heart from birth, and Christ merely articulated it. Something is not true because it is in the Bible; it is in the Bible because it is true. Christianity is thus the original, natural religion, as old as the world, fundamentally underlying all historical religions. Mysticism always tends toward rationalism, just as rationalism continually reverts to mysticism. Here the extremes converge and clasp hands.
The Christian Church has always endeavored to avoid these errors and to harmonize the Word and the Spirit. However, in doing so, it has diverged in different directions within its various confessions.
The Roman Church, for instance, does not regard Holy Scripture and Church Tradition as actual means of grace but merely as sources of truth. Intellectual assent to that truth is termed faith; yet, since this faith is merely assent, it is insufficient for salvation and hence possesses only a preparatory significance. True salvation is communicated first through the sacrament, leading Rome to see the Holy Spirit's work primarily in the foundation and maintenance of the church with its teaching, pastoral, and priestly functions, and then in the supernatural grace, virtues, and gifts imparted to the faithful through the sacrament.
The Reformation vehemently opposed the notion of severing the salvific work of the Spirit from the Word and binding it solely to the sacrament. It not only reinstated Scripture as the singular, clear, and sufficient source of truth, excluding Tradition, but also honored it as the means for the faithful, restoring the primacy of the Word before the Sacrament. This necessitated a profound contemplation on the relationship between Word and Spirit. The Reformation was compelled to address this, particularly because ancient errors resurfaced with robust advocates. While the Socinians revived the teachings of Arius and Pelagius, viewing the Gospel as a new law and dismissing the need for the Holy Spirit's special work, the Anabaptists veered into mysticism, extolling the inner word and denouncing the Holy Scriptures as a dead letter and an empty symbol.
The journey to discern the correct path was arduous, and soon Lutherans and Reformed theologians diverged on this issue as well.
The Lutherans bound Word and Spirit so tightly that the distinction between the two was often obscured. They confined the Spirit's
salvific work to the Word, asserting that man could enter salvation only through the Word. Since the Holy Scriptures were created by the Holy Spirit, they were imbued with His power for conversion.
Thus, just as bread possesses an inherent power to nourish, so the Scriptures, through the Holy Spirit, carried an internal, sanctifying power; the Holy Spirit, they asserted, never worked apart from it.
The Reformed tradition could not assent to this view, as they maintained that the finite could never fully absorb and contain the infinite. While Word and Spirit were closely related, they remained distinct. The Spirit could work, and sometimes did, without the Word; when He chose to work through the Word, it was of His own free volition. Generally, He operated in conjunction with the Word, particularly within the covenant community and the Church. Yet, He did not dwell in the Scriptures or the preached Word, but within the congregation, the living body of Christ. The Spirit did not utilize the Word merely as a vehicle of His power; rather, He personally penetrated the heart of man, renewing it unto eternal life.
To rightly understand the relationship between Word and Spirit, we must recognize that God employs the Word as a means in all His external works, not only in presenting Christ and His benefits. In Scripture, the Word is never a mere empty sound or sign but is imbued with power and life, conveying something of the speaker's personality and soul, thereby effecting change.
This is particularly true of God; when He speaks, something happens, as the psalmist declares, "For He spoke, and it came to be;
He commanded, and it stood firm" (Ps. 33:9). God's Word never returns empty but accomplishes His will and prospers in the task for
which He sends it (Isa. 55:11). This Word has creative and sustaining power because God speaks it through the Son (John 1:3; Col. 1:15) and through the Spirit (Ps. 33:6; 104:30), thus communicating it to His creatures. There is a divine discourse embedded in all creation; all creatures are founded upon thoughts spoken by Him, owing their existence and essence to God's Word.
However, these divine thoughts are comprehended not by all creatures but by rational beings, particularly humanity. Created in God's image, man can think and speak, internalizing God's thoughts laid out in creation, making them his own, and articulating them.
From the moment man emerged perfectly from his Creator's hand, he could understand God's internal moral law inscribed on his heart and the external commandment added to it. Unlike any other creature, God entered into a covenant with man, incorporating him into His community and commanding him to walk in His ways willingly and knowingly. The moral law was both the content and the proclamation, the rule and the standard of that original covenant established between God and the newly created man.
Through his willful disobedience, man did indeed break the covenant and deprive himself of the spiritual power to keep God's law and thus to attain eternal life. Nevertheless, God, in His infinite mercy, has not withdrawn from creation nor abandoned humanity altogether.
Though it is said of the Gentiles that God allowed them to walk in their own ways, distinct from Israel, He continues to manifest His eternal power and divine nature to them. He does not leave them untouched but appoints their times and the boundaries of their dwelling places so that they might seek Him and perhaps find Him
(Acts 14:17, 17:26-27, Romans 1:20).
Thus, God continues to speak to every human being. The Reformed theologians have always acknowledged this by referring to a "general calling," which extends beyond the bounds of Christendom and is a privilege for all peoples and nations. While the Gentiles do not partake in the calling of the Gospel, they are by no means devoid of a divine summons. God still speaks to them through nature (Romans
1:20), through history (Acts 17:26), through reason (John 1:9), and through conscience (Romans 2:14-15). Although this calling is insufficient for salvation—since it lacks the knowledge of Christ, the only way to the Father and the sole name under heaven given for salvation (John 14:6, Acts 4:12)—it remains of immense value and significance.
This general call, which God in His common grace extends to all men, may not be the proclamation of the Gospel, but it is still a proclamation of the Law. Despite man's darkened understanding, which often leads to misunderstandings, misinterpretations, and misapplications, its substance remains the same moral law that God originally inscribed upon the human heart. It still demands love for God above all and love for one's neighbor as oneself. Although the Gentiles do not possess the law in its perfect form as given to Israel, they act according to its principles, guided by moral rules in their thoughts and actions. This behavior demonstrates that the law is written in their hearts, their consciences bearing witness, and their thoughts sometimes accusing and at other times defending them
(Romans 2:14-15).
Therefore, the bond between God and man is not entirely severed by sin. God does not abandon man, and man, in turn, cannot completely let go of God. Humanity remains under the influence of His
revelation and the authority of His law. God continues to speak to mankind through nature and history, through reason and conscience, through blessings and judgments, and through life experiences and soul-searching. Through this profound and powerful discourse, God sustains in man the consciousness of his dependence on God and his sense of responsibility. He urges humanity toward a religious and moral life, and when man transgresses, his own conscience accuses and condemns him. This bond is not an external compulsion but an internal, moral tie that connects man to God and His revelation. It is a testimony of God's Spirit that still echoes within fallen man, urging him to do good. For as much as there is a general revelation of God and an illumination by the Logos within man, there is also a general working of God's Spirit. By that Spirit,
God dwells in all creatures, and we live, move, and have our being in Him (Acts 17:28). This general, "material" calling is not only external and objective, revealing God's law through nature, history, reason, and conscience, but also internal and subjective, morally binding each individual to God's revelation and compelling him in his own conscience to observe God's law.
It is true that through this preaching of the law, God does not renew or sanctify man, for the law is powerless to do so because of the flesh
(Romans 8:3). Yet, He does restrain sin, curb passions, and hold back the tide of iniquity. This restraint makes human society and civil righteousness possible, paving the way for higher civilization, richer culture, and the flourishing of arts and sciences. Indeed, the earth is still full of God's goodness. The Lord is good to all, and His tender mercies are over all His works. He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good and sends rain on the just and the unjust. He does not cease to do good, giving rain from heaven and fruitful
seasons, filling hearts with food and gladness (Psalm 104:24, 145:7, Matthew 5:45, Acts 14:17).
Distinct from this general revelation of God, which reaches us through nature and conscience, is the special calling contained in the Word of the Gospel. This special calling is addressed to all who live within the bounds of Christianity. The general revelation is not nullified or abolished by this special preaching but rather included and strengthened. This is evident from the fact that Holy Scripture, which is the Word of special revelation, acknowledges and confirms general revelation in nature and history, purifying it from all false admixtures. The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament shows His handiwork (Ps. 19:1). The invisible things of God have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made (Rom. 1:20), and the work of the law is written on the hearts of men (Rom. 2:15). A Christian, taught by the Scriptures, comprehends these truths far better than one who relies solely on reason.
Moreover, the moral law, only dimly and imperfectly known to the Gentiles, was perfectly and purely proclaimed by God on Sinai and given to His people Israel as a rule of life. When Christ came to earth,
He did not abolish this law but fulfilled it (Matt. 5:17), both in His own person and in the lives of those who follow Him and walk by the Spirit (Rom. 3:31; 8:3-4; Gal. 5:14).
Law and Gospel are thus the two components of the Word of God.
They are distinct yet inseparable, accompanying each other throughout Scripture from Genesis to Revelation. The distinction between Law and Gospel is not the same as that between the Old and New Testaments. Those who see the Law as an imperfect Gospel and
the Gospel as a perfect Law confuse these distinctions. The terms Old and New Testament refer to two successive dispensations within one covenant of grace and to the two groups of Bible books that contain these dispensations. In contrast, the distinction between Law and Gospel points to two entirely different covenants. The Law belongs to the covenant of works, established with the first man, promising eternal life through perfect obedience. The Gospel, however, proclaims the covenant of grace, revealed after the fall, offering eternal life by grace through faith in Christ.
The covenant of grace does not abolish or nullify the covenant of works but fulfills it. Christ meets the demands of the covenant of works on our behalf (cf. p. 308). Hence, the covenant of grace, though purely gracious, employs the law of the covenant of works, binds it to itself, and fulfills it in believers through the Spirit of Christ. The law retains its place in the covenant of grace, not for earning eternal life by its observance—since it is powerless to do so due to the flesh (Rom. 8:3)—but first, to reveal our sin, guilt, and misery, leading us to seek God's grace in Christ (Rom. 7:7; Gal. 3:24), and second, to guide us in walking in newness of life, fulfilling the law through our union with Christ (Rom. 6:4; 8:4).
There is no room for antinomianism, which despises and violates the law, within Christianity. Law and Gospel must be linked together in Scripture, preaching, teaching, doctrine, and life; both are indispensable and essential constituents of the complete Word of God. Identifying them as one or separating them entirely is erroneous. Transforming the Gospel into a new law (nominalism) is as mistaken as antinomianism. Law and Gospel differ not in degree but in essence—like demand and gift, command and promise,
requirement and provision. While the law is holy, wise, good, and spiritual (Rom. 7:12, 14), it is rendered powerless by sin and brings about not justification but the increase of sin, wrath, condemnation, and death (Rom. 3:20; 4:15; 5:20; 7:5, 9, 13; 2 Cor. 3:6-7; Gal. 3:10,
13, 19). In contrast, the Gospel, centered on Christ (Rom. 1:3; Eph.
3:6), brings grace, reconciliation, forgiveness, righteousness, peace, and eternal life (Acts 2:38; 20:24; Rom. 3:21-26; 4:3-8; 5:1-2, etc.).
What the law demands, the Gospel freely gives.
When Law and Gospel are distinguished in this manner, it follows that the general calling, which comes to all men by nature and conscience, and the special calling, which reaches those who live under Christianity, differ not only in degree but also in essence. The difference lies not merely in the fact that Christianity presents a more perfect law than that known to the Gentiles, but chiefly in the fact that Christianity brings something new—the Gospel, which introduces us to the person of Christ. The distinction between Paganism and Christianity, between general and special revelation, between the universal calling and the calling specific to Christians, lies primarily in the Gospel of the grace of God.
Historically, these two vocations have been distinguished as a "material" and a "worldly" calling. The general calling, addressed to all people, is not contained in a clear and distinct Word of God but is intricately embedded in the revelation given to the Gentiles through the works of His hands, as well as in their own reason and conscience, and must be deduced through their own investigation and reflection. However, when they attempted this, they became lost in both religion and morality. Without special revelation, humanity, although knowing God, did not glorify Him or give Him thanks, but
became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened, falling into idolatry and immorality (Rom. 1:21).
Revelation in nature and the calling through reason and conscience proved wholly inadequate. Therefore, in special revelation, God no longer speaks to man through nature alone but uses the actual, literal word, which man himself employs as the highest expression of his thoughts. This use of the word in special revelation was necessary for another reason: Nature, both external and internal to humanity, remains constant. The heavens declare God's glory just as they did thousands of years ago; and despite all progress and civilization, humanity today remains essentially and naturally the same as their oldest forefathers.
Special revelation, however, is not inherent in nature; it developed historically over centuries and is centered on the historical person of Christ. No aspect of nature can save us; only a person can heal us.
Historical facts and persons, unlike the constant nature, come and go. According to God's order, we can only know them through words
—spoken or written. The nature of special, historical revelation necessitates the use of the word to transmit itself across generations and locations. General calling is mediated through nature, whereas special calling utilizes the word; the former is primarily the Law, while the latter is primarily the Gospel.
The Gospel word began its course in paradise. God Himself first revealed it in paradise, had it proclaimed by the holy patriarchs and prophets, and exemplified by sacrifices and other ceremonies of the law, finally fulfilling it through His only begotten Son. It did not cease there. He also had the Gospel word written down in the books
of the Old and New Testaments and entrusted its preservation, proclamation, interpretation, defense, and propagation to the church, that it might be known to all creatures.
On the same day the church received this task from Christ and began its execution, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit occurred. Conversely, the moment the Holy Spirit made the church His dwelling place marked the birth of the church as an independent community of believers, the bearer of the Gospel, the pillar, and the anchor of truth.
Though united in preparation earlier, on the Day of Pentecost, the Word and the Spirit definitively joined forces. They work together in the service of Christ, the King of the Church and the Lord of the Spirit, presented to us in the Word and communicated to us by the Spirit. Truth and grace go hand in hand, for Christ is full of both
(John 1:14).
The calling by the Word far exceeds the calling by nature. While the latter only brings man to hear the voice of the law, demanding, "Do this and you shall live," the vocation by the Word proceeds from Christ, presenting the substance of God's grace and offering man the richest benefits—namely, forgiveness of sins and eternal life—freely, through faith and conversion. Considering the content of this call, one might expect that upon hearing it, all people would joyfully and readily accept it. For what objection could a sinner, facing perdition, have against a gospel that assures him of God's grace and offers perfect salvation without any work on his part, but only the acceptance of this glad tidings with childlike faith?
Yet, reality teaches us quite differently. Throughout the ages, there has been a continual separation between those who serve the Lord
and those who do not. From the family of Adam, where Abel and Cain were divided, to the lineage of Seth and Cain before the Flood, and continuing after the Flood with Shem and his brothers, this separation has persisted. The patriarchal families saw contrasts between Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau, and later between Israel and the nations. Not all descended from Abraham were truly Israel; rather, the children of the promise were counted as the seed
(Romans 9:6-8). This reality continued in the New Testament era, where many are called, but few are chosen (Matthew 22:14). There is a stark contrast between the church and the world, and even within the church, many are hearers but not doers of the Word (James
1:22). Rejecting Christianity does not eliminate this contrast, for there will always be good and bad, righteous and unrighteous.
Among men, there is a deep religious and moral difference, far more profound than differences in rank, station, gift, power, wealth, and honor.
This moral inequality is so evident and significant that everyone must reckon with it. However, many have attempted to explain this moral inequality, along with other differences among people, by invoking the free will given to humanity. They argue that man's will, despite sin, remains free and retains the power to do good, or that, though weakened by sin, it has been strengthened by the general enlightenment of the Word (the Logos, John 1:9) or by the grace of the Holy Spirit given before or in baptism, thus gaining sufficient power to heed the Gospel's call.
Apart from the teaching of Holy Scripture, such an explanation is implausible. According to this view, it is man, not God, who makes the ultimate distinction among themselves. But if God is truly God,
His counsel must prevail over all things; He is the Creator of heaven and earth, and He maintains and governs all creatures by His providence. It is inconceivable that He would govern all nature, regulate all things, even in the smallest details, and yet exclude from His counsel and providence the significant and eternal fact of spiritual disparity among mankind, leaving it to human decision.
Holding such a view essentially nullifies God's counsel and providence, removes the world's history from His hands, renders its outcome unpredictable, robs it of purpose and goal, and ascribes to God an attitude contrary to His nature and works.
Spiritual difference is the most significant, but not the only disparity among mankind. People also differ in rank, station, sex, age, gifts of the soul, and powers of the body. They are born within or outside the confines of Christianity and may or may not hear the Gospel. These differences cannot be explained solely by human will and conduct, as they precede them and often influence them. If one refuses to rest in the good pleasure of God and seeks explanations in human behavior, one must resort to improbable hypotheses. For instance, some
Lutherans rejected the idea of God's free will in determining who was born under the Gospel's light and who was not, arguing instead that the Gospel was known to all peoples in the times of Adam, Noah, and the Apostles (citing Romans 10:18 and Colossians 1:23) but was lost through their own fault. Similarly, the notion, mentioned by Origen and shared by many today, that human souls were originally created equally by God but received different bodies and fates based on their pre-existence behavior, aligns with this line of reasoning.
All such assumptions merely complicate the matter at hand and fail to provide any substantive explanation. Here, too, man will find no
rest until he rests in the fatherly heart of God, recognizing His free and incomprehensible will as the deepest reason for the inequality among creatures. The distinction between the general and special callings is not rooted in the worthiness of one people over another or in a better use of the light of nature, but in the entirely free will and undeserved love of God (Dordrecht Canons III/IV, 7). The same applies to the spiritual inequality between those who accept the call of the Gospel with a believing heart and those who reject it and choose their own way. It is not man, but God, who makes the distinction. The call itself differs in its approach to different individuals. Within the calling by the Word, as rooted in Scripture, a distinction can be made between an external and an internal calling.
However, before defending this distinction, it must be firmly stated that it in no way diminishes the power or value of the so-called external calling.
Firstly, this call from God remains serious and well-intended. All who are called by the Gospel are called seriously. For God earnestly and genuinely shows in His Word what pleases Him—namely, that the called should come to Him. He also earnestly promises rest for the soul and eternal life to all who come to Him and believe. Those who accept the distinction between outward and inward calling still attribute the same power and significance to the former as the opponents of this distinction believe to be true of all calling. This distinction does not place mankind in a more unfavorable condition than they are according to their opponents. The word of the Gospel, which brings this outward calling, is not a dead letter but a power of God for salvation to everyone who believes (Romans 1:16), living and powerful and sharper than any two-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12),
and the means of regeneration (1 Peter 1:23). It is the same word used by God in the inner calling, and it is not devoid of the Spirit's effect. The Holy Spirit not only testifies in the hearts of believers that they are God's children (Romans 8:16) but also convicts the consciences of those He convinces of sin, righteousness, and judgment (John 16:8-11). Hence, Calvin rightly spoke of a lower working of the Spirit accompanying the outward calling.
Secondly, rejecting this calling never occurs without guilt. Those who reject the Gospel cannot claim powerlessness as an excuse; for they do not reject it because they are powerless. If they felt powerless, they would plead for the grace offered in the Gospel. Instead, they reject it because they feel strong and believe they can save themselves without God's grace. The failure of many to come and convert despite being called by the Gospel is not due to any fault in the Gospel, nor in Christ, who is offered in the Gospel, nor in God, who calls through the Gospel. It is due to the fault of those who are called. Some, being careless, do not accept the word of life; others accept it superficially and, after a momentary joy of temporary faith, fall away; others are choked by the cares and lusts of the world and bear no fruit, as taught by our Savior in the parable of the sower
(Dordrecht Canons III/IV, 9).
Thirdly, the external calling is not without fruit. In general, it can be said that God achieves His intention with it. His word, even in this external calling, does not return empty but accomplishes what pleases Him and prospers in what He sends it to do (Isaiah 55:11).
Furthermore, it is significant how people respond to this external calling. Among pagans, there is a considerable difference in their response to the call of nature; Socrates and Plato cannot be equated
with Caligula and Nero. Similarly, it is not the same whether the Gospel is mocked and blasphemed or accepted with historical or temporary faith. Though there is an essential difference between these types of faith and the saving faith of the heart, they are not equivalent to utter unbelief. They are fruits of God's common grace and bring many temporal blessings. They bind men to the truth, keep them from many grievous sins, lead them to modest and honorable lives, and contribute greatly to the formation of Christian society, which is of utmost importance to the life of mankind and to the influence of the church.
Foremost, it merits attention that this external vocation often serves as a means in God's hand to prepare the work of grace in the hearts of His elect. There is no preparatory grace in the sense that the external calling progresses without a leap to the internal, nor that the natural man gradually grows into a child of God. For, just as in nature, there is no gradual transition from death to life or from darkness to light in grace. However, there is a preparatory grace if it is understood that God, who is the Master of all grace and the Creator of nature, establishes and maintains a link between the two.
In executing His counsel of redemption, He follows the path He Himself laid in creation and providence. As He stirred in Zacchaeus a desire to see Jesus (Luke 19:3) and brought about conviction among those who heard Peter (Acts 2:37), so He also governs His elect before the hour of their conversion, leading them toward that hour with His almighty hand.
Despite the significant power and value of this external calling, it remains insufficient by itself to transform a man's heart and induce him to accept the Gospel faithfully. This insufficiency of the external
calling must be clearly understood. The Gospel it proclaims is not inadequate, for it contains the full counsel of salvation, presenting
Christ with all His benefits before our eyes and needing no further supplement. It is not a dead letter needing the Spirit's quickening, nor an empty sound or vain sign devoid of essential connection with the matter it designates. Paul declares that the ministers are nothing
(1 Cor. 3:7) because they can be replaced or even dispensed with. On the contrary, the Gospel is the power of God unto salvation (Romans
1:16, 1 Cor. 15:2), not the word of man but the word of God (1 Thess.
2:13), living and powerful (John 6:63, Heb. 5:12, 1 Pet. 1:25), and efficacious in some sense; if not the fragrance of life unto life, it is the fragrance of death unto death (2 Cor. 2:16). Christ, who is the substance of the Gospel, leaves no one neutral; He brings crisis, judgment, and separation into the world (John 3:19, 9:39) and reveals the inclinations and thoughts of the heart by His word, which penetrates the innermost being of man (Luke 2:35, Hebrews 4:12).
He becomes a stone of stumbling to those who reject Him as a rock of salvation, foolishness to those who reject Him as wisdom, and a downfall to those for whom He is not a resurrection (Luke 2:34, 1
Cor. 1:18, 1 Pet. 2:7).
This twofold working of the Gospel word proves that the difference in result among those who accept it and those who reject it cannot be explained solely by the word itself or the outward calling. The Gospel, brought by whoever and to whoever, is always the living and powerful word of God. Yet, the term "word of God" in Scripture does not always have the same meaning. Sometimes it signifies the power of God by which He creates and sustains the world (Genesis 1:3, Ps.
33:6, Matthew 4:4, Heb. 1:3); other times, it refers to the special revelation given to the prophets (Jer. 1:2, 4, 2:1, etc.). The word of
God remains a living and powerful word according to its content, yet as a human word, it shares the characteristics of all human words and, as such, can only have a moral effect. This moral effect is not to be underestimated; it is much stronger than mere rational instruction, as the word of the Gospel is a means of grace.
However, a rational and religious-moral working of the Gospel is insufficient. It would be sufficient if man had not fallen or lost his spiritual freedom due to the fall. Scripture testifies, and daily experience confirms, that man is darkened in his understanding
(Ephesians 4:18, 5:8), bound in his will by sin (John 8:34, Romans 6:20), and dead in sins and trespasses (Ephesians 2:2-3). Thus, he cannot see the kingdom of God (John 8:3), grasp the things of the Spirit of God (1 Cor. 2:14), submit to the law of God (Rom. 8:7), nor think or do anything good of himself (John 15:5, 2 Cor. 3:5). The Gospel may be for man, but it is not according to man, not in accordance with his wishes and thoughts (Gal. 1:11); and therefore, if left to himself, it is always rejected and opposed by him.
Herein lies the richness of God's grace: despite human frailty, He conjoins the external calling of His Word with the internal working of His Spirit in those predestined for eternal life. Even in the Old
Testament, the Spirit of the Lord was the Sovereign and Guide of the spiritual life (Psalm 51:12, 143:10), yet He was especially promised to teach all, to impart a new heart, and to inscribe the Law of God within that heart in the New Covenant (Isaiah 32:15, Jeremiah 31:33,
32:39, Ezekiel 11:19, 36:26, Joel 2:28). This purpose was fulfilled at Pentecost when He was poured out. The Spirit's role was to testify of Christ alongside the apostles and thereafter to dwell within the Church, regenerating it (John 3:5), leading it to confess Jesus as
Lord (1 Corinthians 12:3), comforting it, guiding it, and remaining with it forever (John 14:16, Romans 8:14, Ephesians 4:30), and likewise penetrating the world from within the Church to convict it of sin, righteousness, and judgment (John 16:8-11).
Redemption is entirely the work of God, both objectively and subjectively. It is not of him who wills or of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy (Romans 9:16). There is an external call that reaches many (Matthew 22:14), but there is also an internal, effectual call that results from election (Romans 8:28-30). God not only gives the Gospel but also preaches it in power and in the Holy Spirit (1
Corinthians 2:4, 1 Thessalonians 1:5-6), and it is He who grants the increase (1 Corinthians 3:6-9). He opens the heart (Acts 16:14), enlightens the mind (Ephesians 1:18, Colossians 1:9-11), bends the will (Acts 9:6), and works both to will and to act according to His good purpose (Philippians 2:13).
Thus, those who are called in this manner come to Christ and are converted not due to their own free will distinguishing them from others, but due to God, who elected His own from eternity in Christ and effectually calls them in time. He endows them with faith and conversion, delivering them from the dominion of darkness into the kingdom of His beloved Son, so that they may proclaim the excellencies of Him who called them out of darkness into His marvelous light and thereby boast not in themselves, but in the Lord, as the apostolic writings frequently affirm.
The nature of this internal calling is elucidated in various ways throughout Scripture. Though it does not always employ the term, it often directs our attention to the concept it signifies. Nature itself
provides an analogy for what transpires in grace; creation elucidates re-creation. Jesus illuminated the nature, characteristics, and laws of the kingdom of heaven through parables, drawing material from nature and daily life. In the parable of the Sower, He particularly highlighted the varied effects the Gospel word has in the hearts of men.
The natural law dictates that a certain relationship is necessary for perception and knowledge between man and the object he seeks to perceive and understand. To see, one needs not only an object but also an open eye and light to illuminate both. To hear, not only are air vibrations and sounds required, but man also needs an open ear to capture these sounds. Beyond these senses, a heart is necessary to comprehend the meaning of the objects seen and sounds heard. We must be attuned to what we perceive to truly internalize it and make it our spiritual possession. A blind man cannot see, a deaf man cannot hear, an indifferent man cannot understand, an unmusical man cannot grasp the world of tones, and a man lacking any sense of beauty cannot take pleasure in poetry or painting. A certain relationship, a harmonious connection, is required between man and the world for perception and knowledge to occur.
In the natural realm, this connection has largely persisted. It is true that sin has had its effect here as well, often severing it almost entirely in the case of the blind, the deaf, the mentally deranged, and many other unfortunate individuals. It is also more or less weakened and disturbed in all people to varying degrees. But generally, one can assert that God has preserved this connection in the natural sphere; man can still see and hear, perceive and think, learn and know.
However, on the spiritual level, sin has utterly severed that connection. The inclination of man's heart is evil from his youth
(Genesis 8:21). An ox knows its owner, and a donkey its master's manger, but Israel does not know, and God's people do not understand (Isaiah 1:3). Humanity is like children sitting in the marketplaces, calling out to their companions, saying: We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn (Matthew 11:16-17). They have eyes but do not see, ears but do not hear, hearts but do not understand (Isaiah 6:9, Matthew
13:14-15). And when He reveals Himself to them in the Gospel, they do not understand the things of the Spirit of God, are offended by the foolishness of the cross, and kick against the goads (Acts 9:5, 1
Corinthians 1:23, 2:14). By nature, man is dead to God, to His revelation, and to all spiritual and heavenly things; he has no interest in them, is indifferent to them, thinks only of earthly matters, and has no desire to know the ways of the Lord. The bond between God and man is broken; there is no longer any spiritual kinship or fellowship between them.
Therefore, internal calling generally consists of restoring that broken bond and making mankind spiritually related to God again, so that he will hear God's word once more and be able to understand it.
Scripture even refers to this working of the Holy Spirit in internal calling as revelation. When Simon Peter, in the region of Caesarea
Philippi, confessed Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the living God, the Savior said to him: Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah, for flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven
(Matthew 16:17). Similarly, the apostle Paul testifies that at his conversion it pleased God to reveal His Son in him (Galatians 1:16).
This revelation is not to be understood as the actual appearance of
Christ, for when Peter confessed Him as the Christ, the Savior had already lived and worked on earth for years; He had also made
Himself known as the Messiah several times (Matthew 11:5ff), and had already been recognized as such by others (Matthew 8:29,
14:33). But as clearly and decisively as Peter now confessed Him, Jesus had never before been acknowledged as the Messiah and Son of God, and therefore He says that only a subjective revelation in the heart and consciousness of Peter could bring him to such a firm and clear confession. God Himself enlightened the apostle internally so that he now saw in Christ what he had never before seen so clearly in Him.
In other words, the revelation referred to here consists of an internal illumination. In the natural world, our eye is enlightened by the sun, which in turn enlightens the whole body, just as a lamp enlightens a house (Matthew 6:22). Man's mind and reason are enlightened by the Word that was with God, that made all things, that was the light of men, and still enlightens every man coming into the world (John
1:1-9); and by that enlightenment of his consciousness, man can perceive, investigate, and know the world; the wisdom of a man brightens his face (Ecclesiastes 8:1). Already in the Old Testament, the psalmist prayed for this, saying: Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law (Psalm 119:18). God, who is the creator of light, has also shone in our hearts, so that as an apostle, one might make the glory of God shine before others in the preaching of Christ and thus lead them to its knowledge (2
Corinthians 4:6, cf. Ephesians 3:9).
Elsewhere, the activity of the Holy Spirit in the internal calling is described as an opening of the heart by the Lord Christ, as seen in
Acts 16:14, or of the mind, as noted in Luke 24:45, so that the Word of God is understood and accepted in its true sense. It is also presented as the growth that God grants to the word preached by the apostles, 1 Corinthians 3:5-9. For the apostles are but servants, fellow workers of God, instruments in His hand, so that it is not actually they who labor, but the grace of God which is with them, 1
Corinthians 15:10. Indeed, they are nothing, but God is everything, for He gives the seed of the word its growth, and the church is therefore entirely His work and building. Such power as is necessary to bring a dead sinner to life is in the hand of no creature, whether angel or apostle. It requires nothing less than divine, omnipotent power, the same power that raised Christ from the dead.
For the believers in Ephesus, the Apostle Paul prays that God may continually give them the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, that they may know Him and have the eyes of their hearts enlightened, so that they may know the hope to which He has called them, the riches of His glorious inheritance in the saints, and the immeasurable greatness of His power toward us who believe. This power is according to the working of His great might, which He exerted in Christ when He raised Him from the dead and seated Him at His right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named
(Ephesians 1:17-21). The same power of God is manifested in the calling, regeneration, rebirth, and glorification of believers as in the resurrection, ascension, and exaltation of Christ.
In full agreement with the Holy Scriptures, the Reformed Church therefore confesses that when God works His good pleasure in the elect and effectuates true conversion in them, He not only externally
preaches the Gospel to them and powerfully enlightens their minds through the Holy Spirit so that they may rightly understand and discern the things that are of the Spirit of God, but also reaches into the innermost parts of man with the powerful working of the same regenerating Spirit. This working, according to the same confession, is wholly supernatural, a very powerful and at the same time very sweet, wonderful, hidden, and inexpressible working, which, according to the testimony of the Scriptures (which are inspired by the author of this working), is in its power no less than the creation or the raising of the dead (Canons of Dort, III-IV, 11-12).
The change wrought in man by this working of the Holy Spirit is called rebirth. The term is not unique to Scripture, nor does it appear there for the first time. It has been used from ancient times in the religion of the Indians to denote the transformation that every soul undergoes at death. According to the Indians, the soul does not remain in a state of separation after death, but immediately passes into another body, whether human, animal, or plant, according to how it behaved in its previous body. Every birth leads to death, but every death also leads to a new birth; every human being is subjected to a centuries-long series of "rebirths," that is, of the indwelling of his soul in ever other bodies. According to Buddhism, salvation from this terrible law and from all the suffering in the world is only possible when man knows how to quench his thirst for existence within himself and works on his own destruction, or at least on the numbing of his consciousness, through all kinds of abstinence. This doctrine of "rebirths" was transmitted from India to Europe in ancient times and again in the last century; and today there are not a few who see in it the essence of all wisdom.
But Scripture speaks of rebirth in an entirely different sense. It employs this term sparingly; once in Matthew 19:28, where Jesus envisions regeneration as the renewal of the world preceding the kingdom of glory, and another time in Titus 3:5, where Paul states that God saved us, not by works of righteousness that we have done, but according to His mercy, through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit. It is debated whether Paul refers to baptism as the sign and seal of rebirth or whether he depicts the acts of rebirth and renewal of the Holy Spirit themselves as a bath in which believers have descended. However, the mention of the renewal of the Holy Spirit suggests a spiritual, moral transformation that occurs in believers during their conversion. The context confirms this view, for previously, those who are now believers were once foolish, disobedient, and led astray (Titus 3:3), but now they are saved, reborn, and renewed, becoming heirs of eternal life in hope
(verses 4-7), and are thus exhorted to engage in good works (verse 8), for which they have received the ability and desire through rebirth and renewal.
Although the noun "rebirth" appears only twice in Scripture, the concept itself is often mentioned through other terms and metaphors. Already in the Old Testament, the people of Israel are admonished not to boast in the external sign of circumcision but to circumcise the foreskin of their hearts and be no longer stiff-necked
(Deuteronomy 10:16). Moreover, it promises that the Lord Himself will circumcise their hearts and the hearts of their descendants, so they may love Him with all their heart and soul (Deuteronomy 30:6).
This promise finds fulfillment in the history of Israel among the pious and will be abundantly realized in the future when God makes a new covenant with His people, pours out His Spirit upon them,
gives them a new heart of flesh, and writes His law upon their hearts (Jeremiah 24:7, 31:31-34, 32:39; Ezekiel 11:19, 36:26-28; Joel 2:28 ff.).
When that future was imminent and the kingdom of heaven had drawn near, John the Baptist appeared, demanding repentance as a condition for entrance into the kingdom. The people of Israel, despite their outward privileges, were corrupt to the core; they needed, in spite of their circumcision, a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, in which a person is completely immersed to rise as a new man into a new life (Matthew 3:2 f.). Jesus takes up the same message of repentance and faith, undergoes baptism Himself, and administers it to all who desire to be His disciples (Mark 1:14-15;
John 4:1-2). Anyone wishing to enter the kingdom must break from his entire former life, lose his soul (Matthew 10:39, 16:25), forsake everything (Luke 14:33), take up his cross and follow Him (Matthew
10:38), become like a child (Matthew 18:3), return to the Father with a confession of guilt (Luke 15:18), pass through the narrow gate and tread the narrow way to eternal life (Matthew 7:14). An evil tree cannot produce good fruit (Matthew 7:17 f.); hence, if there is to be good fruit, the tree must first be made good, and this is something only God can do (Matthew 19:26). Children of God and citizens of the kingdom of heaven are those planted by the heavenly Father
(Matthew 15:13), to whom the Sovereign Lord has given His blessing, to whom the Son has revealed the Father and the Father the Son
(Matthew 11:27, 13:11, 16:17); once spiritually dead, they are now partakers of true life and anticipate eternal life (Matthew 8:22; Luke
15:24, 18:30).
In all this teaching of Christ, as the first three Gospels recount, the word "rebirth" does not occur, but the concept is clearly presented.
Thus, when Jesus, in His conversation with Nicodemus, declares that no one can see the kingdom of God or enter it unless he is born again
(from above), of water and the Spirit (John 3:3-8), He is not contradicting the teaching in the other Gospels but summarizing concisely to Nicodemus what He has explained more extensively elsewhere. Nicodemus, a prominent man, a teacher of Israel, a member of the Sanhedrin, had heard of Jesus' miracles and considered Him a teacher sent by God. However, he was still undecided, still in doubt, and, to avoid arousing the suspicion and hostility of the Jews, came to Jesus by night for a confidential conversation to determine whether He was indeed the Messiah.
Nicodemus began by acknowledging that he believed Jesus to be a teacher from God, seemingly about to inquire what one must do to enter the kingdom of heaven. But Jesus preempts his question, asserting: "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." With this, He cuts off all human effort and Pharisaic law-keeping as the way to the kingdom.
That is why Jesus does not speak literally of being born again, but of being born from above. The emphasis is not merely on the necessity of a second birth for entrance into the kingdom (although rebirth can indeed be termed such), but Jesus seeks to convey to Nicodemus that only a birth from above, a birth from water and the Spirit, opens the entrance to the kingdom. This birth is contrasted with that of the flesh, for what is born of the flesh is flesh; it is not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God (John 1:13).
Thus, it is as mysterious and incomprehensible in its origin and direction as the wind, yet it is possible, for it is a birth of the Spirit.
Jesus first refers generally to a birth of water and Spirit, then specifically speaks of the Spirit, indicating that the Spirit of God alone can effect this great work of rebirth from above. With the mention of water, Jesus does not refer to baptism but describes the nature of the birth from above; it is a birth characterized by renewal and purification, symbolized by water, bringing forth new spiritual life.
Other passages in the New Testament expand upon this foundational teaching of Christ. Rebirth is a divine work; it is God who brings believers to new birth, who calls them effectually, brings them to life from the dead, and bestows upon them new life. But He grants this benefit only in fellowship with Christ, to whom He has given the gift of the Holy Spirit, in whom He draws them, incorporates them, and by the Holy Spirit who penetrates the heart and becomes the principle of new life. By virtue of this birth from God, believers are
His workmanship, created in Christ, His field, and building, a new creation. Regeneration is not a work of human strength, nor the product of a gradual development of natural life, but a decisive break with the old existence and the beginning of a new, spiritual life; the death of the old and the resurrection of the new man (Romans 6:3ff).
Yet, on the other hand, it is not a second creation entirely from nothing but a re-creation of man, who received existence through birth from his parents. At the time of rebirth, he remains essentially the same person, the same 'I,' the same personality. Paul declares of himself that he has been crucified with Christ and therefore no longer lives, but Christ lives in him; yet he continues, "the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God" (Galatians 2:20). His self has been crucified with Christ and died, but it has also arisen
immediately with Christ; it has not been destroyed and replaced by another but has been reborn and renewed. Likewise, he says of some believers in Corinth that they were formerly fornicators and idolaters and adulterers, but they have been washed, sanctified, and justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God (1
Corinthians 6:10-11).
This transformation is spiritual; what is born of the Spirit is spirit, lives, and walks according to the Spirit. Rebirth instills a principle of new life, created by the Holy Spirit in connection with the resurrection of Christ, from whom He takes everything. It plants a seed in the heart, from which a whole new man arises. It begins mysteriously and hiddenly, centered in the core of man's personality, in his very being, but from there it extends to all faculties of man: to his intellect, heart, will, affections, mind, soul, and body, desiring to walk in newness of the Spirit.
They no longer bear the image of the earthly man, of the first Adam, but reflect the image of the second man, the Lord from heaven. They have been crucified to the world and no longer live for themselves but live for Him who died and rose again for them. They have received a new center for all their thoughts and actions, for they live, move, and have their being in Christ, having put on Him as a garment in baptism, displaying His form, and being transformed ever more into His image from glory to glory, as from the Lord's
Spirit. In this communion with Christ, they are children of the heavenly Father, who love God and the brethren, and will one day be like God, for they will see Him as He is.
Holy Scripture speaks richly and gloriously about rebirth, not merely to inform us doctrinally but to ensure that we personally partake of this great grace and walk as God's children in a wicked world. What power it would be for the church if it not only described the image of Christ in its confession but also displayed it in the practice of life to all those around it.
This is certain: the tree is known by its fruits. A good tree brings forth good fruit, and a good man brings forth good things from the good treasure of his heart (Matt. 7:17, 12:33, 35). If regeneration implants a new principle of life in the heart, it must and will be manifested in the activities that proceed from that spiritual life.
These activities are chiefly two: faith in the mind and conversion in the will.
Faith, in general, as we speak of it in our daily lives, is the acceptance of a testimony. We believe something when we have not seen or observed it ourselves, but are assured of it because reliable persons, orally or in writing, past or present, have informed us about it. This fundamental meaning of the word persists when it is applied to religion, and it must remain so because we know nothing of the entire content of the Gospel, of the person and work of Christ, except through the testimony of the Apostles. It is only through their word that we can believe in Christ (John 17:20), and through fellowship with the Apostles that we come to fellowship with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ (1 John 1:3).
Nevertheless, when faith is transferred to the religious sphere, and especially when it is presented in Scripture as the way to the kingdom of heaven, it is significantly altered in accordance with this
particular use. One may indeed accept the Gospel in the same manner as one believes testimony concerning a historical person or event, but such belief is not true faith if the Gospel is not received as the Evangel. The experience of all preachers, prophets, apostles, and ministers in both the church and the gentile world, even the experience of Jesus Himself, has always been that the word did not find acceptance or effect with many who heard it. "Who has believed our message, and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?"
(Isa. 53:1). People who hear the Gospel come with very different states of mind and attitudes toward it.
Jesus illustrated these situations in the parable of the Sower. With some, the seed of the word falls along the path that borders the field, and the birds come and eat it up; these are the indifferent, the insensitive, the vapid, who hear the word but consider it irrelevant to themselves. The word does not enter their hearts but falls on the hard, well-trodden path; it is not even remembered but goes in one ear and out the other. After a few moments, it is as if they had not heard it at all; the birds, representing all kinds of contrary thoughts, contempt, disbelief, and slander, driven by the Evil One, remove the word from their consciousness. They hear it, but they do not understand it (Matt. 13:4, 19).
With others, the seed of the word falls into rocky places where it has little soil. It springs up quickly because the soil is shallow, but when the sun rises, it scorches the plants, and they wither because they have no root. These are the superficial, shallow minds; they hear the word and receive it with joy. The Gospel appeals to them because of its beauty, loftiness, simplicity, or loveliness, and it makes some impression on them. They are moved and stirred by it, taste a certain
strength from it, and form good intentions. But they do not allow the truth to penetrate deeply and take root. They give it a place in their memory, imagination, reason, and intelligence, but they do not open the depths of their soul to it.
There is a thin layer of soil on the surface where the word penetrates, but below that, everything is cold, dead, and hard as a rock. That is why they cannot endure oppression, persecution, trial, and temptation. As soon as these come, they are vexed and fall away; they last only a short time (Matt. 13:5-6, 20-21).
There are also others with whom the seed of the word falls among thorns. The thorns grow up and choke the plants, so they do not bear grain. These are the worldly-minded hearers, whose hearts are full of thorns, full of the cares of the world or the deceitfulness of wealth.
They are completely absorbed by the cares or the temptations of earthly life. They hear the word and even accept it; sometimes it penetrates their hearts amidst all the worldly cares and pleasures.
They occasionally consider that it would be better to break with the world and seek the kingdom of God. The fear of judgment sometimes seizes their minds. But when the seed of the word is about to germinate, the thorns, the worldly worries, and desires choke it. They cannot bring themselves to forsake all, take up their cross, and follow
Jesus; the power of the world is too strong for them.
Thus, there exists a consent and acceptance of the Gospel that is not genuine. Indeed, there are indifferent souls, like Pilate, who turn away from the Gospel with a haughty and contemptuous smile (John
18:38). There are also those, like the proud Pharisees and the wise Greeks, who perceive the Cross of Christ as a stumbling block and
foolishness, and erupt in wild enmity and hatred against it (Matt.
12:24, John 8:22, 1 Cor. 1:23). Yet there are others who believe but do not confess, who love the honor of men more than the honor of God (John 12:42-43); who remain hearers of the word all their lives, until they die, but never become doers of the word (Matt. 7:26, John
13:17, Rom. 2:13, James 1:23); who, like Simon of Samaria, accept the Gospel because of the signs and great powers it produces (Acts
8:13ff). There are all kinds of faith—historical, temporal, miraculous —which bear the name but lack the substance; they exhibit a form of godliness but deny its power (2 Tim. 3:5).
The genuine, beatific faith differs from all these forms of faith in three respects. First, it has a different origin. Historical, temporal, and miraculous faith are not inherently wrong; they are better than outright unbelief and enmity; they even serve a temporary purpose; but they are only gifts of God's common grace and are also given to natural men. However, saving faith is a gift of God, like all salvation
(Eph. 2:8), a gift of God's special grace (Phil. 1:29), a consequence of election (Acts 13:48, Rom. 8:30, Eph. 1:5), a work of the Holy Spirit
(1 Cor. 12:3), a fruit of regeneration (John 1:12-13).
Those who have only a natural birth belong to the world, are from below, prefer darkness to light, do not know God, and do not understand His word (John 1:11, 3:3, 19, 20, 6:44, 8:47, Rom. 8:7, 1
Cor. 2:14). But those who are born of God, who are of the truth, are led by the Father to Christ, hear His voice, understand His word, and follow Him (John 3:3, 5, 6:44, 8:47, 10:5, 27). And the Holy Spirit, of whom they are born, testifies with their spirit that they are the children of God (Rom. 8:16) and puts on their lips the confession that Christ is their Lord (1 Cor. 12:3).
By virtue of this origin, true, beatific faith is also distinguished in essence from all other faiths. It unquestionably includes an element of knowing, for it relates to a testimony concerning unseen, eternal things, which we ourselves have not perceived and cannot perceive.
It cannot construct the truth from the born-again life, nor from religious experience and mental experience. For although the faithful have received the anointing of the Holy Spirit (i.e., Chris) and know all things (1 John 2:20), they owe this Spirit precisely to Christ, remain bound by the word of truth which they heard from the beginning (1 John 2:21-24), and with the whole church are built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets (Eph. 2:20).
However, the knowledge inherent to saving faith is of a special kind.
It is not merely a theoretical knowledge, absorbed by the mind and memory and leaving mankind cold. It is not akin to that gained in science through research and reflection, nor is it like accepting a historical report about something that happened in the past. The knowledge of faith is a practical knowledge, a knowledge of the heart more than of the head, a knowledge with a personal, deep, soulsearching interest, for it concerns a matter in which I am personally involved at the core of my being, in which my existence, my life, my soul, my salvation is at stake. Faith, then, is an assent and acceptance, a knowing and awareness of a testimony that comes to me; but it is an acceptance of that testimony with application to myself, a reception of the word of God's preaching, not as the word of man, but as the word of God (1 Thess. 2:13), a "ministering" of the Gospel as a message sent to me personally by God.
Thus, we see that saving faith differs from all other faiths in its object. For historical faith clings to the message and does not
penetrate deeper; temporal faith sees some beauty in the message and rejoices in it, but ignores its actual content; and belief in miracles attaches itself to the signs and wonders but is indifferent to Him who works them. However, if we accept the Gospel with a true heart, as a word that God brings to us personally, then this beatific faith cannot leave us empty and unfruitful. Just as no one who learns that his family is in great danger can calmly continue his journey, no one who truly believes the Gospel, with application to himself, and knows from it that he is guilty and lost and that there is only salvation in Christ Jesus, can remain cold and unconcerned. On the contrary, true faith is immediately active in those who have received it; it leaves them no rest and drives them to Christ. It does not remain with the testimony as a historical message but penetrates to the person of whom that testimony speaks.
It was already thus in the Old Testament. The pious, who stand before us there, are always engaged with God Himself. At times this is expressed by believing (Gen. 15:6, Exod. 14:31, 2 Chron. 20:20,
Isa. 28:16, Hab. 2:4), yet this belief is not a mere rational conviction of God's existence, but a wholehearted reliance on God and standing upon His word. Thus, believing alternates with various other terms.
It is frequently noted of the pious that they trust in God, take refuge in Him, hope in Him, fear Him, expect all from Him, lean on Him, follow Him, and so forth. Their life is a continual walking, communing, and practicing fellowship with God. Similarly, this is found in the New Testament. The apostles who recount these matters to us are not mere historians in the usual sense, but they bear witness to what they have seen, heard, and touched of the Word of Life. They dwell in communion with Christ and speak from that fellowship. Believing is receiving Christ, not merely assenting to the
testimony given by the apostles concerning Him, but receiving Christ Himself (John 1:12); it involves putting on Christ as a garment (Gal.
3:27), dying and rising with Christ (Rom. 6:4), living in His communion (Gal. 2:20), abiding in Him as the vine (John 15:4), and so on. Through and in Christ, God is their God, their Father, and they are His sons and daughters (2 Cor. 6:18).
In sum, the faith that saves is not only a certain knowledge, a firm conviction, an unquestionable certainty about the prophetic and apostolic testimony as the Word of God, but it is also a steadfast trust from person to person in Christ Himself as the fullness of grace and truth revealed by God. The one is inseparably linked to the other.
Without knowledge, trust is impossible, for how can we trust someone we do not know? Conversely, if knowledge does not lead to trust, it has not been the right kind of knowledge; those who know the name of the Lord trust in Him (Ps. 9:10), but those who do not trust Him have not yet learned to know Him as He truly is from His word. Whoever seeks Christ apart from His Word, through the Spirit alone, loses the touchstone for testing spirits and gradually comes to confuse his own spirit with the Spirit of Christ.
Therefore, Christ has given both His Word and His Spirit; it is the Spirit of Christ who bears the same testimony in the Scriptures and in the hearts of the faithful. In regeneration, He plants the Word in our hearts (James 1:18, 21; 1 Pet. 1:23, 25); and the spiritual life of the faithful, according to its nature, always returns to the Word to be nourished and strengthened. We never outgrow the Scriptures here on earth because the Scriptures are the sole means of bringing us into fellowship with the true Christ, who was crucified but now sits at the right hand of the power of God. Christianity is a religion of
history, yet it is also a religion of the present; it possesses a Word that portrays the image of Christ before our eyes and a Spirit through whom the living Christ Himself dwells in our hearts. Faith, therefore, is knowledge and trust simultaneously; it is an acceptance of Christ
Himself in the garment of the Holy Scriptures.
Just as faith is the fruit of regeneration on the part of the conscious mind, so the new life manifests itself in the will through conversion.
This is repeatedly mentioned in the books of the Old Testament.
Israel, after being delivered from Egypt, was led by the Lord to Sinai and there accepted into His covenant. As God's people, they were to keep that covenant and obey His voice, becoming a kingdom of priests and a holy nation (Exod. 19:5-6). Yet, already in the wilderness, they were repeatedly guilty of infidelity and disobedience. In Canaan, this apostasy increased amidst the heathen nations; when the first generation had died out and another arose that neither knew the Lord nor the work He had done for Israel, then the sons of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord and served the Baals (Judg. 2:10-11).
Hence, the preaching of repentance became necessary among Israel.
In the early days, the Lord appointed Judges to deliver the people from the hand of their enemies and to lead them back to the service of the Lord. Later, from Samuel onward, prophets arose, admonishing Israel to turn from their evil ways and to keep God's commandments and statutes, as given to their fathers. Samuel initiated this call (1 Sam. 7:3), and all the prophets reiterated this message; they were preachers of repentance and conversion, and in doing so, they were also heralds of forgiveness of sins and complete redemption (Jer. 3:12, 14; 18:11; 25:5; Ezek. 14:6; 18:30-32; 33:11;
Hos. 12:7; 14:3; Joel 2:12, 13). At times, this preaching led to genuine conversion among the people; when subjugated and oppressed by their enemies, they cried out to the Lord (Judg. 3:9, 15; 4:3). Pious kings like Asa, Jehoshaphat, Josiah, and Hezekiah brought about smaller or larger reforms (1 Kings 15:11; 22:47; 2 Kings 23:15; 2
Chron. 30:6, 9). Jonah's preaching even led Nineveh to believe in God, proclaim a fast, don sackcloth, and repent of their evil ways
(Jon. 3:5, 10). Ahab humbled himself before the Lord after Elijah's announcement of judgment (1 Kings 21:27, 29), and Manasseh sought the Lord's face and acknowledged Him at the end of his life (2
Chron. 33:12).
Although some conversions were genuine and heartfelt, for the majority of the people, it amounted to little more than an outward change; as Jeremiah lamented, they did not turn to the Lord with their whole heart, but in pretense (Jer. 3:10). Therefore, the prophets persisted in their call to repentance, urging not only the people collectively but also each individual to forsake their sinful ways and return to the Lord their God. When the people disregarded these exhortations, the prophets began to see their preaching as a harbinger of judgment upon the people (Isa. 6:10). Israel was likened to a wild vine (Jer. 2:21), and it was said that they could no more change their ways than a leopard could change its spots (Jer. 13:23).
Thus, it was recognized that God must grant repentance and a new heart (Ps. 51:10; Jer. 31:18; Lam. 5:21). The prophets eagerly looked forward to the day when God would make a new covenant, circumcise the heart of the people, and write His law upon it (Deut.
30:6; Ps. 22:27; Hos. 3:5; Jer. 24:7; 32:33).
That day dawned with the proclamation of John the Baptist and Jesus that the kingdom of heaven was at hand. Both declared that neither mere law-keeping nor self-righteousness would open the way to the kingdom, but only repentance and faith. To denote this conversion, the Greek New Testament uses two words: one indicating an internal, spiritual change in moral disposition (Matt.
3:2, 8, 11; 9:13; 11:20; Acts 2:38; 2 Cor. 7:9, 10), and the other indicating an external change in the direction of life (Matt. 13:16;
Luke 1:16, 17; 22:32; Acts 9:35; 11:21; 14:15; 15:19; 26:18, 20). Acts 3:19 and 26:20 link both concepts: "Repent and turn back," implying a change of mind and a change of life.
When the Gospel was preached to Jews and Gentiles in the Apostolic age and accepted by them, it necessitated a visible change. Jews had to abandon their observance of the Mosaic law, including circumcision and the sacrificial system, while Gentiles had to forsake idolatry and their religious practices. Embracing Christianity required great self-denial and courage, typically done with heartfelt conviction, as there was no worldly honor or gain in it. Thus, the internal and external aspects of conversion were closely intertwined; a genuine internal change led to an evident external transformation.
This profound change, both internal and external, found its sign and seal in holy baptism (Acts 2:38). Those baptized renounced their past, severed ties with their former associations, were crucified to the world, and through baptism, died and were buried with Christ. At the same time, they rose with Christ to a new life, donned Him as a new garment, and became His disciples, followers, servants, soldiers, members of His body, and temples of the Holy Spirit (Rom. 6:3ff;
Gal. 3:27; Col. 2:11, 12). As the Christian church spread among Jews
and Gentiles, conversion entailed not only an internal change but also an external renunciation of idolatry (1 Cor. 12:2; 1 Thess. 1:9), of the weak and beggarly elements of religion (Gal. 4:3, 9; Col. 2:8, 20), of dead works (Heb. 9:14; 1 Thess. 1:9), and of public sins and crimes
(1 Cor. 6:10; Eph. 2:2, 3; Col. 3:5, 7; Tit. 3:3). Henceforth, they were to serve the living and true God (Heb. 9:14; 1 Thess. 1:9) and cleave to the Lord (1 Cor. 6:15-20).
When the missionary period came to an end, and the Church began to perpetuate itself through generations, passing from parents to children, the essence of conversion did not change, though its external manifestation did. From birth, children were included in the covenant; they received Holy Baptism as its sign and seal, and were thereby visibly incorporated into the Church of Christ, even before their consciousness and consent. Naturally, it often occurred that church members, whether baptized as children or later, fell into various sins. Sects such as the Montanists and Novatians held that grievous sins could not be forgiven by the Church. However, the Church itself adopted a different stance, welcoming back the erring and the fallen into its fellowship upon their repentance, confession of sins, and submission to ecclesiastical discipline.
Gradually, the sacrament of penance emerged, whereby the faithful, having committed sins, confessed these in the priest's confessional, exhibiting either perfect contrition (sorrow for sin because it offends
God) or imperfect contrition (sorrow for sin out of fear of punishment), and performing the prescribed penances. Thus, conversion in the Roman Church gradually became externalized; the emphasis shifted from internal change of heart to confession and satisfaction, with imperfect contrition deemed sufficient for
forgiveness, and even the temporal penalties could be remitted through indulgences.
This understanding of conversion is what Luther challenged at the dawn of the Reformation. Through reading the New Testament, he recognized that true conversion, as depicted in Scripture, was vastly different from the penance practiced by Rome. Nevertheless, Luther initially made too sharp a distinction between repentance and faith, having experienced the torment of the law in his conscience and finding solace in the doctrine of justification by faith alone. Thus, he viewed repentance—comprising sorrow, penance, and suffering—as a work of the law, while faith was the fruit of the Gospel. Calvin later refined this understanding, aligning more closely with Scripture. He distinguished between false and true conversion (Jer. 3:10), worldly sorrow and godly sorrow (2 Cor. 7:10), regret for specific sinful acts, and heartfelt sorrow for having offended God. Worldly sorrow, arising from the unforeseen consequences of sin, leads to death, as seen in Cain (Gen. 4:13), Esau (Heb. 12:17), and Judas (Matt. 27:3); it does not lead to true conversion but to despair, bitterness, and hardness of heart.
True conversion, however, involves an inner breaking of the heart (Ps. 51:17; Acts 2:37), genuine sorrow for sin because it opposes
God's will and incurs His wrath, and a heartfelt detestation and forsaking of sin. This godly sorrow, as God wills and works it, leads directly to God and results in a repentance that brings salvation without regret (2 Cor. 7:10). When the prodigal son resolves to return, he says, "I will arise and go to my Father, and I will say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you'" (Luke
15:18). Even while still far from home, he calls on his Father, trusting
in His mercy and forgiveness. True conversion is thus inseparably linked with genuine saving faith.
Therefore, the comprehensive treatment of conversion does not belong to the doctrine of misery and salvation, but to that of gratitude (Heidelberg Catechism, Lord's Day 33). Sometimes, conversion is understood in a broader sense, encompassing the entire transformation required to become a child of God and a citizen of His kingdom. Just as Jesus speaks only of regeneration in John 3 and solely of faith in Mark 16:16, He also speaks of conversion in Matthew 4:17. One benefit cannot exist without the other; in the new life of regeneration, faith and conversion are inherently present and necessarily emerge. Though they cannot be separated, they can be distinguished: conversion is a fruit of regeneration, presupposing faith. Conversion, too, is a gift and work of God, both at its inception and throughout its progress (Jer. 31:18; Lam. 5:21; Acts 5:31; 11:18).
Yet, by virtue of the new life imparted, it is also an act of man (Acts 2:38; 11:21; Rev. 2:5, 16), continuing throughout one's life.
While conversion remains one in essence, it varies in form according to individuals and circumstances. It is a singular path walked by all
God's children, yet each is led differently, experiencing diverse spiritual journeys. Consider the varied divine guidance given to the patriarchs, the distinct conversions of Manasseh, Paul, and Timothy, and the differences between David and Solomon, John and James.
This same diversity is evident beyond Scripture in the lives of Church Fathers, Reformers, and all the pious. Recognizing this wealth of spiritual life prevents us from judging others by our narrow standards. Some people recognize only one method of conversion, expecting others to share their experiences. However, Scripture is far
richer and broader than such narrow perspectives. As it is written: there is diversity of gifts, but the same Spirit; diversity of ministries, but the same Lord; diversity of activities, but the same God who works all in all (1 Cor. 12:4-6). True conversion is defined not by human expectations but by divine declaration; in all its varied expressions, it must manifest the death of the old man and the resurrection of the new.
What signifies the death of the old man? It is a profound sorrow that we have provoked God's wrath through our sins, accompanied by an earnest hatred of sin and a fervent resolve to flee from it more and more.
And what signifies the resurrection of the new man? It is a deepseated joy in God through Christ, coupled with a sincere desire and fervent love to live according to God's will, manifesting in all good works.
Study Questions for Reflection 1. How do the Word and the Spirit work together in the calling of believers, according to the chapter?
Reflect on the importance of both the preaching of the Word and the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit in bringing people to faith.
2. What are the dangers of relying solely on the preaching of the Word without acknowledging the necessity of the Spirit's work?
Consider the errors of Pelagianism and its modern counterparts, and how they misunderstand the need for the Holy Spirit in conversion.
3. In what ways do spiritists or mystics undervalue the role of Scripture in the conversion process?
Reflect on the potential pitfalls of emphasizing an inner, subjective experience of the Spirit while neglecting the objective truth of God's Word.
4. How does the chapter describe the correct relationship between the Word and the Spirit in the work of salvation?
Consider how Reformed theology maintains a balance between the Word and the Spirit, ensuring that both are seen as essential in the process of salvation.
5. What is the significance of general revelation, and how does it differ from special revelation in leading people to God?
Reflect on the role of general revelation through nature, history, reason, and conscience, and its limitations compared to the special revelation of the Gospel.
6. How does the chapter explain the concept of "general calling" and its purpose?
Discuss the value of the general calling that extends to all humanity and how it differs from the special calling of the Gospel.