squirrelyguy
Well-known member
I recently had a conversation with a man at church who might be one of the most hard-core dispensationalists I've ever met. He caught me off guard by saying "1 John 1:9 has done more harm to the body of Christ than anything else!" I didn't say anything because I was taken aback by the irreverence of his statement, but then he continued by saying something to the effect that 1 John, along with the rest of the New Testament except for Paul's epistles were not written to us as Gentiles. Therefore, he reasoned, it cannot be true that we Christians today need to confess our sins in order to be forgiven. In his reasoning, faith alone is necessary for salvation, and this excludes the need for confessing our sins.
Now I have some thoughts on this:
1. I think he correctly perceives a "contradiction" in the New Testament on this. I want to emphasize that I put the word "contradiction" in quotes because I don't think there truly is any contradiction; the only "contradiction" that we have is a result of our inadequate theology.
2. Here is the "contradiction" that we have: confessing our sins as a means of receiving God's forgiveness seems, on the surface, to be a matter of eternal salvation. Thus we tie ourselves in knots trying to explain how this conforms to the idea of salvation by grace through faith alone. Confession of sins, like forgiving our neighbor, is not just a matter of having faith in Christ. It's not a work (at least not in any meritorious sense), but neither is it faith. It's something other than faith or works. It's a third option.
3. Now as for the interpretation of 1 John 1:9, I see at least two ways of interpreting it. One way is to say that we lose our salvation every time we sin pending our confession of that sin. I don't think there's any way to harmonize such a notion with the whole of the New Testament. The second way that I see is that forgiveness of sins, for the Christian, is not a matter of eternal life or eternal death. Rather, it is something more like restoring a relationship between a father and a son (or daughter). Just as the prodigal son injured his relationship with his father by departing for his life of hedonism and squandering his possessions, so the Christian who carries around unconfessed sins has a broken relationship with his/her Heavenly Father. The practical consequence of unconfessed sin is that we live outside of the natural protection afforded to us in this world by being in a right relationship with the Father. Like the prodigal son before he repented, we are left to fend for ourselves, desiring to eat the pods that the pigs feed on for want. Confession results in the Father welcoming us back into his protective covering where we have food enough to spare and are well clothed. (Don't think prosperity gospel).
4. I think this latter interpretation harmonizes well with the whole of New Testament theology, and it doesn't resort to declaring half of the NT to be irrelevant for Christians today.
5. I also think it's within the realm of possibilities to suppose that unconfessed sin turns into a liability for the Christian at the return of Christ. That is, when the Bible warns about being found naked, having defiled garments, having no oil in our lamps, etc. it is warning not about eternal damnation, but about the prospect of being made ashamed at Christ's return and even cast out of the wedding feast and/or disinherited for the final thousand years of world history.
Now I have some thoughts on this:
1. I think he correctly perceives a "contradiction" in the New Testament on this. I want to emphasize that I put the word "contradiction" in quotes because I don't think there truly is any contradiction; the only "contradiction" that we have is a result of our inadequate theology.
2. Here is the "contradiction" that we have: confessing our sins as a means of receiving God's forgiveness seems, on the surface, to be a matter of eternal salvation. Thus we tie ourselves in knots trying to explain how this conforms to the idea of salvation by grace through faith alone. Confession of sins, like forgiving our neighbor, is not just a matter of having faith in Christ. It's not a work (at least not in any meritorious sense), but neither is it faith. It's something other than faith or works. It's a third option.
3. Now as for the interpretation of 1 John 1:9, I see at least two ways of interpreting it. One way is to say that we lose our salvation every time we sin pending our confession of that sin. I don't think there's any way to harmonize such a notion with the whole of the New Testament. The second way that I see is that forgiveness of sins, for the Christian, is not a matter of eternal life or eternal death. Rather, it is something more like restoring a relationship between a father and a son (or daughter). Just as the prodigal son injured his relationship with his father by departing for his life of hedonism and squandering his possessions, so the Christian who carries around unconfessed sins has a broken relationship with his/her Heavenly Father. The practical consequence of unconfessed sin is that we live outside of the natural protection afforded to us in this world by being in a right relationship with the Father. Like the prodigal son before he repented, we are left to fend for ourselves, desiring to eat the pods that the pigs feed on for want. Confession results in the Father welcoming us back into his protective covering where we have food enough to spare and are well clothed. (Don't think prosperity gospel).
4. I think this latter interpretation harmonizes well with the whole of New Testament theology, and it doesn't resort to declaring half of the NT to be irrelevant for Christians today.
5. I also think it's within the realm of possibilities to suppose that unconfessed sin turns into a liability for the Christian at the return of Christ. That is, when the Bible warns about being found naked, having defiled garments, having no oil in our lamps, etc. it is warning not about eternal damnation, but about the prospect of being made ashamed at Christ's return and even cast out of the wedding feast and/or disinherited for the final thousand years of world history.