Did Paul Teach the Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness?

This is an unavoidable question from my last couple posts on Paul and Romans. Does the apostle Paul teach the Reformed doctrine of imputation?  One might come to the conclusion that I don’t think he does, based on my post on “Perishing Apart from the Law.” And one would be correct.  Sort of.  It’s not so clear-cut as that, since the question is actually asking two things.  So let me lay out clearly what I think, at least at this point.

First, it’s necessary to define the Reformed doctrine of the imputation of the righteousness of Christ.  Here’s how I would define it:

A sinner is justified by God, not because of any merit of his own that might be brought to judgment as righteousness, but only for the sake of the righteousness of Jesus Christ laid to the sinner’s account.  God, as the just judge, when he looks upon a redeemed and believing sinner, sees instead the righteousness of Christ and on that grounds alone justifies.

I think that is a satisfactory definition.  If anyone has anything to add to it, feel free to comment.

So, to our question—or actually, questions, which might have very different answers:

• Does Paul teach this doctrine?
• Does Paul have this doctrine in mind when he uses the word “impute”?

I must answer “yes” to the first question and “no” to the second.  I believe Paul does teach that Christ’s work of righteousness stands in place of our own before God, since we have nothing of our own to offer.  However, I think Paul is talking about something else, something more general when he talks about imputation, especially in Romans 5.  So there is “imputation” in the Reformed sense, and there is “imputation” in the Pauline sense, which I don’t believe are quite the same thing, but nevertheless do not exclude each other.

First the Pauline.  In Romans 5:13 Paul says that sin is not imputed where there is no law.  This cannot be in reference either to the accounting of Adam’s sin to fallen mankind, nor to the accounting of Christ’s righteousness to justified man.  It would render the Reformed doctrine nonsensical if there were an entire stretch of generations to which imputation in the Reformed sense does not apply (to say nothing of its implications for the Gentiles, who, Paul appears to be arguing, are under the same paradigm as those generations between Adam and Moses).  Therefore, it must be the imputation of man’s sin to his own account.  I believe this is also the sense in which Psalm 32:1-2 (quoted in Romans 4:7-8) speaks.

For Paul, imputation is not necessarily a transfer of sin or righteousness from one account to the other.  Rather, imputation is the accounting itself of the thing, regardless of where it originally came from.  If your sin is imputed to you, then God holds you especially accountable for what you’ve done.  You are counted as a transgressor.  This is what Paul means when he says that sin is not imputed where there is no law.  Yes, sin persisted during this period, and was strong enough to maintain the associated reign of death.  But sin was not imputed because there was no transgression of stated commandments.¹

In Romans 5:20, the law comes in through Moses so that transgression and resulting guilt might be increased.  That is, with the coming of the law, sin is then imputed, thereby making the sinner accountable under the law.  This is the same situation as the Gentile who was once perishing apart from the law and then learns of the law as a God-fearer (which is, by the way, what I believe Romans 7 is describing).

Similarly, when Paul says in Romans 4:3 that “Abraham believed God and it was imputed to him as righteousness,” we must not insist that “it” refers to the alien righteousness of Christ transferred to Abraham’s account, for the idea is nowhere found in the context.  Rather the picture we get is as if Abraham had faith (given by God through the work of the Spirit) and in lieu of any deeds by which he might otherwise be declared righteous—indeed, Paul points out, before the law of circumcision had even been given that he might keep it—God says, “I’ll take that; consider yourself justified.”

By the means of  faith then, Abraham apprehended God’s promises to him and to his seed, just as we receive the promises of God through a true and living faith in Jesus.  As with Abraham, this faith itself is credited to us by God as righteousness, apart from any works of the law.  This is what I believe Paul is talking about when he talks about imputation.

So what about imputation in the Reformed doctrinal sense?  Does Paul teach that we are justified on the grounds of Christ’s righteousness alone?  He certainly does.  God’s declaration of righteousness on us is a free gift that was attained by Christ’s work alone.

And the free gift is not like the result of that one man’s sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought justification. For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ.  Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men.
Romans 5:16-18

Here we see Christ’s “act of righteousness” is what leads to our justification.  In a Reformed theological sense, we might say that it is imputed to us.  As a side, I must insist that Romans 5:18 is speaking of a single act that attains justification, otherwise it destroys the parallel to Adam’s one trespass.  It is one act of righteousness that makes the whole thing possible.  Imputation of Christ’s life-work not explicitly found here.

What was this single righteous act?  Paul has already told us in Romans 5:8-9.

. . . but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God.

We are justified by Christ’s blood.  This does not necessarily obliterate the idea of the imputation of Christ’s active obedience, but I would say Paul makes no such distinction.  Justification is more organic than taking a log entry from one roll and arbitrarily transferring it to another in order to settle the books.  The key is that we are placed “in Christ.”  For Romans 4-7 is Paul’s entire argument to bring us to one conclusion:

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
Romans 8:1

This is the grounds for our justification.  For if we are in Christ, then all that he is has become ours.  That is our imputation.  When we by faith receive Christ, God regards all that is Christ’s as ours, for we are in him.  How are we placed in him?  Romans 6 gives us this answer: by baptism, and all that it represents.

Whether Romans 6 is speaking of water baptism, or only of “spirit baptism,” or both, is a topic for another discussion, but whichever it is speaking of, this baptism is the means by which we are placed in Christ, by which we receive his righteousness to our account, and are therefore judged righteous before God.

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.  For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. For the death he died he died to sin, once for all, but the life he lives he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.
Romans 6:3-11

Does this render the Reformed doctrine of imputation “redundant” with union with Christ?  Not at all.  Rather, with this understanding, imputation and forensic justification are the inevitable result of our vital union with Christ and his covenant headship.  That is, union and imputation are related but distinct concepts.

It was Jonathan Edwards who said:

“The atonement worked by Jesus’ life and death is achieved by such a community of him and us that if the Father loves the Son, he must love us also.” ²

We might take this thought and apply it just as legitimately to forensic justification.  If we are found “in Christ,” as Paul says, then because of that union, if the Father regards the Son as righteous, then He must justify us also.

. . . for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.
Galatians 3:26-27

If we are united to Christ his righteousness must appear on our account because his account and ours are the same account.

So does Paul teach the Reformed doctrine of imputation?  Yes.  He just doesn’t call it that.

The Dove and the New Creation

First, thanks to Jason Stewart for piquing my interest to look into this and give it some thought during the week.  Tomorrow is the Baptism of Our Lord, the first Sunday after Epiphany, so this is appropriate.  And now to our text:

And when Jesus was baptized, immediately he went up from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on him . . .
~Matthew 3:16

So the question is, why a dove?  What significance does it have?  Jason briefly mentioned in his sermon last week that it has been said that the Jews associated the dove with the Holy Spirit.  If so, then how would they have known to do this?  I think the question can be answered by looking back to two Genesis passages.

First, the most obvious:

Then he sent forth a dove from him, to see if the waters had subsided from the face of the ground.  But the dove found no place to set her foot, and she returned to him to the ark, for the waters were still on the face of the whole earth. So he put out his hand and took her and brought her into the ark with him.
~Genesis 8:8-9

Noah releases a dove after the flood that covers the face of the earth to see if the waters have subsided.  The dove flies from the ark and hovers over the face of the waters, and finds no resting place.  Three times he releases the dove, before the waters subside.

Of itself, this may not bring to us thoughts of the Holy Spirit.  But I believe the story of the dove is a clear allusion to an earlier event in Genesis:

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.
~Genesis 1:1-2

At the creation of the heavens and the earth the Spirit also hovers over the face of the waters.  In the Noahic flood God remakes the world.  It is a type of the new creation.  When we read Genesis we should see this and associate the hovering of the dove over the water with the hovering of the Spirit in the opening phrases of the Bible.

And when Jesus comes out of the water and the dove descends on him, this also should bring Genesis to mind.  The dove is again hovering over the face of the water at the beginning of a new creation.  The ultimate New Creation is before us, as God purposes to remake Heaven and Earth through his Son, Jesus.

By baptism we identify with Christ, even as he identified with us, and so enter that New Creation.


Hong T. Chin, 1922—2009

There is something very dignified about the burial of an American veteran. Yesterday I, along with the brothers and cousins, carried my grandfather’s casket and laid it above the burial site. I held back the tears as the army guard came to flank the casket opposite the side where I was standing with my brothers and cousins. One stood at attention and saluted my grandfather as the bugler played Taps. They removed the flag covering the casket, folded it in silence, and then presented it to my grandmother.

Yesterday, my grandfather made me proud to be an American again. In these past couple years, I had nearly forgotten what that felt like.

My grandfather served as a rifleman in the army’s 29th Infantry Division during World War II. He disembarked on the beaches of Normandy in the second wave, was wounded by shrapnel at St. Lô, and received the Purple Heart medal. He was always proud of his service to his new country, but he didn’t talk about it much. In fact, he never talked much about himself. For him, others always came first.

Earlier on Monday, friends and relatives of my grandfather streamed into the funeral home. I met quite a few new people, many of whom gave accounts of my grandfather’s kindness and generosity. Of course, I had always known that my grandfather was kind and generous, but it was only in the past two days that I found how many people’s lives he had touched. Yesterday at the memorial service, the funeral home was packed.

On Easter Sunday, 2002, both my grandparents received Christ as their Lord and Savior and were baptized in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. My grandfather was eighty years old. I look back on that day with joy, because it is the only source of hope that we have for those who have gone ahead. Because we who are in Christ do not grieve as those who have no hope.

1 Peter 1:22-25

Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart, since you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God; for

“All flesh is like grass
and all its glory like the flower of grass.
The grass withers,
and the flower falls,
but the word of the Lord remains forever.”

And this word is the good news that was preached to you.

A man’s life is but a breath. It is soon over. But those who are in Jesus Christ have an eternity to live for, since they are born of an imperishable seed. The word of the Lord remains, and his promises are sure. My grandfather will be missed by many today, but for us, our reunion is only a breath away.

But even that is not the end. For we were not saved to be with God only as disembodied spirits. The same body that I saw lying in that casket will one day rise again, in a glorified state. Just as my grandfather shared in Christ’s death and burial in baptism, he must also share Christ’s resurrection and glorification.

1 Corinthians 15:17-23

And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.

But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ.

Eucharistic Memories: Age 2-4

Quoted sections are from chapters 66 and 67 of
Justin Martyr’s First Apology, c. AD 150

For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Saviour, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh. For the apostles, in the memoirs composed by them, which are called Gospels, have thus delivered unto us what was enjoined upon them; that Jesus took bread, and when He had given thanks, said, “This do ye in remembrance of Me, this is My body;” and that, after the same manner, having taken the cup and given thanks, He said, “This is My blood;” and gave it to them alone . . .

I don’t think I’ve ever talked to anyone about this before, and am not sure what prompts me to write about it now. But . . . here it is:

I was not baptized until age 8 when we joined an OPC congregation. Obviously, neither was I welcomed to the Lord’s Table until after that. Since for almost six years after my 12th birthday family attended a church that required confirmation to gain access to the Table, the first time I took communion I was a teenager. Well, at least officially . . .

The practice of Lord’s Supper always fascinated me. Since the age of two I watched my parents participate in it along with the rest of the adults in church. I took it for granted that it was not for kids.

Once, when we brought an African American boy with us to church as part of some evangelical outreach, he became very excited when the elders began to pass around bread and . . . grape juice.

“Hey,” he said aloud, “they’re giving us food!” I hushed him quickly, tersely explaining to him in a whisper that that was for grown-ups. He didn’t quite get it, and I saw the confused and slightly offended look on his face when the elders passed us by without giving us any. Well, duh, I thought (no, I didn’t actually know the word “duh” yet). It’s not for kids.

But even though I knew it was a grown-up thing, I imagined having a part in it, similar to the way that at the age of 3 I packed a little briefcase (actually the case to a toy medical kit) and pretended I was going to the office with my father one morning. I knew what communion was and what it meant, as much as a three-year-old can understand. The grape juice represented Jesus’ blood and the bread his body. I didn’t really know what that meant (who really does, fully?), but it was something Jesus did, and that meant it was a good thing. To me, a piece of bread together with a cup has been iconic of the Lord’s Supper for as long as I can remember.

Whenever I had grape juice at home, I’d ask for bread too, secretly pretending I was having communion. I remember unsuccessfully trying to pretend once with bread and orange juice, since grape juice was unavailable at that moment. I glibly told my mother that I was having communion, but she told me I shouldn’t pretend that. I conceded, yeah, orange juice was not very authentic.

Our church, Cornerstone Bible Church, where my father was an elder, met in a college classroom. After church service I’d drag my friends into some adjoining classroom and pretend to have another service, pushing a chair to the front of the room so I could climb up onto it and stand behind the podium to speak. Sometimes they humored me.

Early on at Cornerstone, after service my mother would let me have the bread that was left over from communion. Yep, that’s right. The actual bread that had sat in the communion tray and had been consecrated for holy use, as much as that meant to us back then. For my part, I never considered that a normal afternoon snack. There was something special about that bread, even if I couldn’t express exactly what it was. After all, as one can see from the examples above, even though my family had a more or less baptist understanding of the sacraments at the time, I’d been raised with a healthy respect and a deep appreciation for the Lord’s Table, and it sure took. As much as I liked to pretend when I could with bread and grape juice, this was different. This was the real thing.

For whatever reason, I stopped getting the “leftovers” fairly early on, much to my disappointment. But I’ve remembered it to this day, and, at least as far as the church fathers would have seen it, that would have been my first conscious participation in the Eucharistic elements, even if there never seemed to be any leftover grape juice.

And on the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country gather together to one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits; then, when the reader has ceased, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things. Then we all rise together and pray, and, as we before said, when our prayer is ended, bread and wine and water are brought, and the president in like manner offers prayers and thanksgivings, according to his ability, and the people assent, saying Amen; and there is a distribution to each, and a participation of that over which thanks have been given, and to those who are absent a portion is sent by the deacons.

At that age, somewhere between 2 and 4, I was like one who had been absent from the table (though I was never absent from the worship service) and was given the elements after the dismissal. Though there certainly was an amount of impropriety about my taking the elements then, since I hadn’t yet been baptized, I took them (or one of them, at least) nonetheless.

It made me feel a part of something bigger. It gave a sense of belonging along with the grown-ups of the church. I suppose if I can put words to the exact feeling it gave me, I’d say it made me feel special. But isn’t that one of the central points of Communion? It’s an expression of unity among and within the body. A meal reserved for the called-out ones.

Can I say that I derived any real spiritual benefit from it? Perhaps, if we acknowledge the objectivity of the sacraments and the real presence of Christ in the Supper when it is presented beside the preaching of the Word.

Even as Eucharist means to give thanks, that is what I do. I’m thankful every day that I was raised in a Christian home where I was always aware of the goodness of God. Where Christ was presented to me in Word and sacrament every single Lord’s Day (well, sacrament was once a month), even if I was not officially welcome to partake of the latter.

The lesson to be learned is simple: Never underestimate how much your little children understand or how even the slightest bit of inclusion in the life of the Church will benefit them, both now and in the future. And don’t discount the messages that exclusion sends them either.

It is said that a child’s most formative time is at about age 3. For the rest of their lives, long after they may have forgotten details or even whole events, that period of growth remains etched in their subconscious.

Children are born to instinctively imitate their parents unless and until they are taught otherwise. If we really want them to imitate us in faith, then why should we, by our actions, teach them not to during their most formative years? If you want your children to follow you in faith, then teach them how to by including them in it. And teach them early.

Psalm 22:9-10
Yet you are he who took me from the womb;
you made me trust you at my mother’s breasts.
On you was I cast from my birth,
and from my mother’s womb you have been my God.

Chrismation, Confirmation, and Excommunication

Liturgists throughout the ages have long recognized the principle of lex orandi, lex credendi. The law of prayer becomes the law of belief. So if you want to reform the theology of the church, first reform its worship. Belief will follow. The same holds true of the reverse. A little superfluous drama or symbolism, a little unwarranted addition to the service of worship, can have far reaching negative consequences. In this short article I want to address the question of how children came to be barred from participation in the Lord’s Supper.

In the early church, the newly baptized were admitted immediately to the table. There is a great deal of evidence from the writings of the church fathers that this was the case even for infants.

At some point in the first couple centuries of the Church, someone had the slick idea to add a little oil to the waters of baptism. More precisely, a small element was added to the rite of baptism in which the newly baptized was anointed with oil to symbolize the anointing of the Holy Spirit. This anointing, called chrismation, was originally viewed as simply a part of the baptismal rite. It is an extra-biblical addition to the sacrament. It must have been a fairly early tradition, since it is found everywhere in the ancient churches, and also in denominations today that hold claim to the ancient church. So the alien element of oil was interposed between water and supper.

In the Eastern Orthodox churches, we can see something similar to what this rite might have looked like in the ancient church. Baptism is immediately followed by anointing with oil, and the newly baptized and chrismed is immediately admitted to the Eucharist. This immediacy in administration of the sacraments is maintained in the East because any priest could both baptize and chrismate, and then administer the elements. In the West, the story is quite different.

Conscious to guard the hierarchy of the bishopric, which it considered to be essential to the doctrine of apostolic succession, the Roman church ruled in the West that while the priesthood could baptize and administer the Eucharist, chrismation required the services of a bishop. Without the anointing, the baptism was deemed incomplete. As the church spread throughout the empire into more rural areas, it became hard to come by a bishop. Priests could administer baptism, but without the authority to perform the rite of chrismation, they could not complete the initiation of converts or their children into the new faith.

More and more, chrismation had to be delayed until a bishop passed through the area. Because chrismation was technically a part of the baptismal ritual, the baptism was not complete until this anointing of oil had been given. The result was that administration of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper was also withheld from those who had been baptized but whose baptism had not been “confirmed” by a bishop in chrismation.

Often it could be years before the services of a bishop were available. A traveling bishop would pass through, chrismate all those who had been baptized but not confirmed, and then admit them to the table of the Eucharist. By then, those who had been baptized as infants but had never been chrismated would be old enough to be aware of what was taking place. In order to prepare these children for the anointing of oil and the partaking of the Supper, a system of catechism was introduced. The baptized would be instructed in the doctrines of the church and so made ready for chrismation and communion.

And so the Western rite of Confirmation was born. As chrismation was increasingly separated from baptism in the greater part of the Western church, confirmation came to be seen as a separate sacramental rite—one that drove a man-made wedge between baptism and communion. If you consider that chrismation with oil, whether in baptism or years afterward, is an extra-biblical practice, then the fact becomes unavoidable that this later development amounts to the unnatural and unlawful excommunication (barring from the table) of baptized Christians.

It is a curious thing that this rite continues even in Reformed churches today, albeit without the oil. Granted, they don’t consider it a sacrament, and Confirmation as such is sometimes optional or simply called something else. But the essential idea continues that there must exist a period of instruction between baptism and communion, at least for those who are baptized as infants, and a “credible confession” must thereafter be made in order to gain access to the table.

By introducing catechism as a prerequisite for chrismation, the Western Roman church placed an emphasis on understanding as a requirement for confirmation (of baptism), and thus for communion in the Eucharist. When the Reformed church rightly did away with the oil of chrismation, they nevertheless retained the rite and all its implications for the sacraments. I find it ironic that a controversy regarding the communication of children today in Reformed churches has its roots in two erroneous Roman practices: the chrismation of oil in baptism and the safeguarding of apostolic succession in the hierarchy of the church by requiring that a bishop must confirm a baptism administered by a priest.

The lex orandi of the Roman church has become the de facto lex credendi of of Western Christianity, including many Reformed Christians.

Bibliographic Sources:

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