To the Glory of God Alone: The Doctrines of Grace for a Modern Reformation

I can still remember the staircase I was sitting on when I was “born again . . . again.” Like many who discovered the Reformation after growing up in broad evangelicalism, I loved Jesus and knew my Bible, but I had very little assurance of salvation, nor did I really know how the story of the Bible held together. I could beat you at Bible trivia but couldn’t tell you how to relate the Old and New Testaments or why there’s hope for a Christian struggling with remaining sin. But on those stairs in Southern California more than thirty years ago, I heard a Bible teacher explain two kinds of righteousness: one according to the law and another according to grace. That is, rather than being made right with God by what I do for him, I am made right with God because of what he has done for me. And since then, everything has been different.

I imagine that’s what experiencing the Reformation was like for many of the people who were there as it first grew and blossomed. The enchanted world of medieval Catholicism wasn’t often a happy place filled with delight in God. Instead, it was a struggle to keep up with the rites and rituals necessary to keep an angry or disappointed God pacified. Even the most pious among the Christian populace wondered how long they would suffer in Purgatory before being able to behold the face of God, smiling at last. The worship and preaching in the local churches did little to offer comfort or a bigger vision of God’s work in the world.

But then the bright light of the Reformers’ message began spreading through the hearts, homes, and churches of Europe. Gathering together to discuss “the latest ideas sweeping the land”—as the classic White Horse Inn introduction used to say—the Reformers and their disciples did more than just argue theological minutiae. Instead, they built one another up in the pure proclamation of the gospel, propelled people into ministry and vocation, sent out missionaries, reformed towns and cities, and strengthened churches and families. The Reformation wasn’t just a renewal of doctrine. It led to a transformation of people’s lives and the world they lived in.

Could something similar happen today? Could we really see a modern reformation? I know many others who have had similar experiences to mine. Maybe theirs wasn’t on a staircase or in a Bible study, but it was by listening to a podcast or attending a friend’s church or even through a fresh look at what was once thought to be familiar passage of Scripture. Whatever our personal experiences with coming to see the truth and beauty of Reformation Christianity may be, for a modern reformation to take place, we need to do more than love the history of the Protestant Reformation. We need to recover the clear preaching and teaching of God’s powerful message of salvation expressed in the five solas of the Reformation.

Sola is the Latin word for “only” or “alone.” There are five famous Reformation solas. Salvation is:

According to Scripture alone (sola scriptura);

Through faith alone (sola fide);

By grace alone (sola gratia);

In Christ alone (solo Christo, commonly styled solus Christus); and

To the glory of God alone (soli Deo gloria)

We often speak of the solas as if Calvin and Luther and the other Reformers sat down at a table in a pub somewhere to come up with five central ideas around which they could all unite. Even though they had differences on the sacraments or church government or the relationship of the church to the state, maybe these were the five things that bound them all together. While that may be true as far as it goes, it’s not what happened. Even though each major Reformer touched on all of what we know as the five solas in their writings and preaching, it wasn’t until the early 1960s that a German Catholic theologian spoke of all five solas in the way that we recognize them today. Nevertheless, these five slogans together form a faithful and helpful summary of the conflicts around which the Reformation was structured and the conclusions they drew for how we trust and worship God as his redeemed people.

So, let’s look at what each of these solas means and how it’s vital to Christian faith and practice, by exploring what each looks like when embraced in the life of a local church.

Sola Scriptura

By making the point that the good news of salvation is “according to Scripture alone,” the Reformers didn’t mean that human councils and creeds were unimportant or that tradition shouldn’t have any role in our interpretation of the word. They didn’t intend to place an individual reader of the Bible at the pinnacle of authority. They wanted to make sure that Scripture held the preeminent place because, as the inspired and inerrant word of God, Scripture is the norm that norms all norms. No other person, document, movement, or experience trumps the clear teaching of the word of God. And when a particular passage doesn’t seem so clear? Then, within the community of faith and in light of the Spirit’s leading, we appeal to the Scriptures to interpret themselves as God’s living and active word.

A great illustration of this sola occurs very early in Reformation history. In 1521 at the interrogation of Luther at the Diet of Worms, he declared his allegiance to Scripture, saying,

Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures and by clear reason (for I do not trust in the pope or councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted. My conscience is captive to the Word of God.

Luther didn’t make himself the authority; he submitted himself to the Bible, even at the potential cost of his life.

What does it mean for a congregation to practice this sola today?

The marketing and entertainment makers seem to have more sway over our churches than Scripture does. Our values, our families, even our Christian communities today are often shaped more by the culture in which we live than the word by which we live. Yet the Bible is the only inerrant, unfailing rule of life. Recovering this sola in a church community means that we’re governed in the way we worship, in our preaching, in our family lives, and in our personal behavior by what Scripture says. We should receive wise guidance and give due deference to our confessional tradition, to the voice of the broader church, even to common sense—but never to overrule Scripture. Positively, this sola helps a congregation to see that all that is necessary for its individual and common faith and life is contained in Scripture. We don’t have to search for extrabiblical sources of revelation. Our people don’t have to wonder what God’s will is for them, or find comfort and assurance elsewhere than in his word. Consciences should be bound to nothing except what’s laid down in Scripture or by good and necessary consequence derived from it.

Sola scriptura gives our churches confidence to live boldly as the people of God in a world awash with confusion and contradiction.

Sola Fide

God accomplishes our salvation—and more emphatically for the Reformers, our justification—sola fide, “through faith alone.” Famously, justification by faith alone is the article by which the church stands or falls. That doesn’t mean it’s the only important Christian doctrine or even the most central. Rather, when it comes to salvation, justification by faith alone is the hinge on which all the other solas turn: We are justified by grace alone through faith alone because of Christ alone.

The Westminster Confession of Faith defines this sola carefully:

Faith, thus receiving and resting on Christ and his righteousness, is the alone instrument of justification: yet is it not alone in the person justified, but is ever accompanied with all other saving graces, and is no dead faith, but worketh by love.

The importance of this sola is illustrated by the fact that Rome teaches that we are justified by grace alone, but not by faith alone. They believe that justification is infused into us in baptism, partially or totally lost as we sin more or less seriously, and regained through the use of the sacraments as part of our growth in sanctification. This is why this sola is called the material principle of the Reformation. It’s like Atlas, J. I. Packer says. Without it, the world falls apart. Because Christ’s vicarious righteousness is the only ground of justification (as we’ll discuss shortly), then it is only by faith that we lay hold of Christ, trusting in his righteousness and not ours. Luther famously defined faith as a clasping of Jesus just like a ring clasps the jewel. Calvin understood faith to receive Jesus just as an empty vessel receives treasure.

While sola fide is wonderful news, as a pastor I know it’s one of the hardest messages to convince our hearts to embrace—whether individually or in our life together as God’s people. Something in us demands to be responsible for some part of our right standing with God. The great Princeton theologian Charles Hodge humorously said that he didn’t fear the ghost of Pelagius (rejecting grace alone) as much as he feared the ghost of semi-Pelagius (rejecting faith alone). You and I by nature—and by false teachers or bad counsel—believe that we must activate or empower the grace given to us. God gets us started, but we’ll take it from here. Sadly, this kind of attitude in a church doesn’t lead to holiness or delight in God. Instead, it breeds a self-righteous, judgmental, secretive, and despairing culture in a congregation. Because deep down we know we’re unable to perfectly, personally, and perpetually do the things that God requires.

For those who know anything of God’s holiness and their own sinfulness, this doctrine is both good news and the ground of our worship, enabling us to sing along with the old hymn, “Nothing in my hand I bring, simply to the cross I cling; naked, come to thee for dress; helpless, look to thee for grace; foul, I to the fountain fly; wash me, Savior, or I die. Rock of ages cleft for me. Let me hide myself in thee.” Faith is our act but not our work. It is the hand that receives, not accomplishes. It acknowledges our debt to God rather than puts God in our debt. The Holy Spirit works faith in us and by faith unites us to Christ so that we become the beneficiaries of all his saving work. Because salvation is through faith alone, it’s the work of God alone. In this way, we’re assured that he will one day finish the work that he began (Phil. 1:6).

Sola Gratia

When we say we’re saved “by grace alone,” we mean that in salvation we’re rescued from God by God himself. Motivated by his love rather our just deserts, our Heavenly Father sent his Son to save us from our sins, pouring out his Holy Spirit to bring us to Christ. God has released us from our bondage to sin and raised us from spiritual death to spiritual life. This means that salvation is not in any sense a human work—its source and sustenance are God’s free gift. Our good ideas, our best efforts (not even those called forth by God) are unable to bring the spiritually dead to new life. Spiritual slaves cannot of ourselves attain the freedom of faith.

Even though Roman Catholicism has always taught that we’re saved by grace, the papacy and its representatives obscured and corrupted this teaching before and during the Reformation by—among other practices—selling indulgences. “As soon as a coin in the coffer rings, a soul from purgatory springs,” the traveling mercenary monk Tetzel said. By adding our good works to the mix of attaining salvation, the message of salvation by God’s grace was polluted.

Human capacities are gifts belonging to the image of God. Our ability to do all manner of amazing things in the natural realm (even now, in spite of our rebellion) is a gift of God’s common grace. But naive confidence in fallen human ability in salvation is a lie of the devil. Even among otherwise orthodox Christians, there’s a widespread sense that we have some role to play in motivating our own salvation—that something in us or done by us draws God’s grace and ensures our redemption. That’s why we’re drawn to the smiling preachers who promise our best life now if we simply obey biblical principles. That’s why we’re suckers for every conference or curriculum that promises freedom from sin and perfect families. That’s why our evangelism too often sounds like a beer commercial: Try Jesus, he’s great! Anytime we’re thrown back onto ourselves or believe it’s up to us, we are acting as if sola gratia isn’t true.

To recover the Reformers’ spirit in our congregations, we must preach and teach that God’s grace in Christ is not merely necessary for salvation but is the sole source, motive, and cause of salvation. We must recover the assurance that comes when we hear that the basis of our redemption is in Jesus and not in ourselves, because “if it is by grace, it is no longer on the basis of works; otherwise grace would no longer be grace” (Rom. 11:6). Sola gratia allows us to be humble and grateful before God, and generous and nonjudgmental toward one another, because “who sees anything different in you? What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it?” (1 Cor. 4:7).

Solus Christus

Solus Christus or solo Christo means “in Christ alone.” The Reformation recovered the classic Christian emphasis that salvation is accomplished by and stands secure upon the work of Jesus alone. His sinless life, substitutionary death, and resurrection vindication are sufficient to justify us and restore us as children of the Father.

The Reformation called Christians back to Christ as the only mediator between God and man. The Roman Church taught that Christ is mediator, but also that alongside him stand Mary and countless saints and other intercessors. These other intercessors helped save believers from Purgatory, where the souls there detained are helped by the intercessions of the faithful. Because the saints aren’t only honored heroes of the faith but also instruments by which God dispenses favor, saints are to be venerated and invoked and their relics are to be venerated.

The Reformers didn’t refuse to honor their faithful forebears but insisted that, since salvation is accomplished by Christ alone, our faith must look to him alone. As Calvin said in the Institutes,

Christ stepped in, took the punishment upon himself and bore the judgment due to sinners. With his own blood he expiated the sins which made them enemies of God and thereby satisfied him. . . . We look to Christ alone for divine favour and fatherly love!

Our congregations struggle with this one too—even those of us who belong to reformational churches. Our editor-in-chief Michael Horton diagnoses “Christless Christianity” in churches where therapeutic, political, or entertainment Christianity reigns supreme. What is it in us that draws our eyes away from the sufficiency of Christ to the cheap trinkets and false delights of Vanity Fair? Ultimately, it is unbelief. Just like Israel, we struggle to believe that God is truly for us. And like Adam and Eve, we want to decide for ourselves what is good and right. To counteract these natural tendencies, even among Christians, there must be a commitment to relating to one another and serving in the church from a place of cross-shaped weakness. It’s only as we know our need for Jesus to be our Savior (every day of this pilgrim life) that we will turn again and again to find our comfort, satisfaction, and righteousness in him. As soon as we forget that precious cross, we will go in search of other saviors and other lords.

In response to the Reformation slogan of solus Christus, let’s rededicate ourselves to the unalloyed good news of the gospel: Christ crucified for sinners. When we do so, the preaching of the local church will be Christ-centered. And the fellowship of the local church will be a haven of refuge for people who long for real community where the masks of hypocrisy can fall away. And the mission of the church won’t be a line item in the budget but will be embraced by all as a way of life, because we’ll know that this good news truly is the heart of the gospel.

Soli Deo Gloria

Soli Deo gloria means “to the glory of God alone.” We can understand this final sola as a summary of the others, and therefore of the whole tenor of the Christian approach to redemption: Since salvation is of God and has been accomplished by God and received by faith, it is ultimately for God’s glory and we must always glorify him for it. Our lives must be lived coram Deo—another common Latin phrase popular with the Reformers—“before the face of God” in trust, submission, prayer, work, play, and worship.

Johann Sebastian Bach is arguably the greatest composer in the history of Western music. His devout faith shaped his life, career in church music, and view of the purpose and place of music. He knew that music could be a powerful tool for the proclamation of the gospel. As a committed Lutheran, he knew that his daily work ought to bring glory to God, so he inscribed the initials SDG (representing soli Deo gloria) at the end of most of his musical scores.

You (or your church worship leader) may not be such an obviously
God-glorifying musician as Bach. But one of the great insights recovered during the Reformation is that any God-pleasing vocation could and should be done in gratitude to God and love for our neighbors. The divide between “professional Christians” and the secular world is an artificial one. Electricians and engineers are no less “called” than pastors and theologians. The same is true in the church. While not all are called to ordained ministry, all believers are called to some God-given and God-glorifying work as God’s priests and ambassadors. The first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism asks, “What is the chief end of man?” And the famous answer—“Man’s chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever”—is true no matter our vocation. At the end of all your work, you should be able to inscribe SDG because you know that your life is lived to the glory of God alone.

As with the other solas, this final one doesn’t depend on us in order to be true. While we glorify God, we’re not giving him something he didn’t already have. He’s the one who accomplishes this aspect of the fruits of salvation as surely as the others. The Reformation slogan soli Deo gloria assures us that God will be faithful to us because he cannot deny himself (2 Tim. 2:13).

Conclusion

What might happen if a person, a family, or a church decided to make these five solas central to their Christian walk? Not only would we become more intentionally God-oriented in every area of our lives, but we would also see deeper purpose to the pilgrim lives God has called us to live. In a culture of aimless nihilism, where even true believers often sit on their stairs struggling with confusion and doubts, perhaps the greatest apologetic a Christian or church can offer today is found within the five solas of the Reformation. Having been made right with God through faith alone by grace alone in Jesus alone, our lives will be ruled by the Bible alone so that we can live for the glory of God alone. Amen.