Chapter 3 – The Great Change (part 1)
The Great Change
Arthur Pink
September, 1946
“If any man is in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new!” 2 Corinthians 5:17
INTRODUCTION
Some of our older readers may recall a book which made quite a stir in the religious world, especially the Arminian sections of it, some forty years ago. It was entitled, “Twice-born Men,” and was written in a somewhat racy and sensational style by a well-known journalist, Edward Harold Begbie (1871-1929). It purported to describe some startling “conversions” of notorious profligates and criminals under the evangelistic efforts of the Salvation Army and City Missions. Whether or not the reader is acquainted with that particular book, he has probably read similar accounts of reformations of character. He may, as this writer, have personally heard the “testimonies” of some unusual cases.
We recall listening unto one in New York City some time ago: A man past middle age who had “spent twenty Christmas days in prison,” who had been delivered from a life of crime, attributing his deliverance to the amazing grace of God and the efficacy of the redeeming blood of Christ, and who—to use one of his Scriptural quotations—had been given “beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness” (Isaiah 61:3).
Many, if not all, of those reformed characters testify that so thorough was the work of grace wrought in them that their old habits and inclinations had been completely taken away, that they no longer had the slightest desire to return to their former ways, that all longing for the things which once enthralled them was gone; declaring that God had made them new creatures in Christ, that old things were passed away, and all things had become new (2 Corinthians 5:17).
Personally, we do not deem ourselves competent to pass an opinion on such cases. Certainly, we would not dare assign any limit to the wonder-working power of God; nevertheless, we should need to be in close contact with such people for some considerable time and closely observe their daily walk—in order to be assured that their goodness was something less evanescent than “a morning cloud, and as the early dew,” which quickly vanishes (Hosea 6:4).
On the one hand, we should keep in mind the miraculous transformation wrought in the fierce persecutor of Tarsus; and on the other hand, we would not forget Matthew 12:43-45 Matthew 12:43-45 “When an evil spirit comes out of a man, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’ When it arrives, it finds the house unoccupied, swept clean and put in order. Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that man is worse than the first. That is how it will be with this wicked generation.” .
But this we may safely affirm, that such cases as those alluded unto above, are not general or even common, and certainly must not be set up as the standard by which we should ascertain the genuineness of conversion—be it our own or another’s. Though it is blessedly true that in His saving operations, God communicates subduing and restraining grace to the soul—to some a greater measure, to others a lesser—yet it is equally true that He does not remove the old nature at regeneration or eradicate “the flesh.” Only One has ever trodden this earth who could truthfully aver “the prince of this world [Satan] is coming, and has no power over Me” (John 14:30). There was nothing combustible in Jesus—which Satan’s fiery darts could ignite.
But the godliest saint who has ever lived had reason to join with the apostle in sorrowfully confessing: “When I would do good, evil is present with me” (Romans 7:21). It is indeed the Christian’s duty and privilege to keep himself from all outward sins: “Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh” (Galatians 5:16); yet as the very next verse tells us, the flesh is there, operative, and opposing the spirit.
But we will go further. When such people as those referred to above, appropriate 2 Corinthians 5:17 to describe their “experience,” no matter how well suited its language may seem to their case, they are making an unwarrantable and misleading use of that verse; and the consequence has been that many of God’s dear children were brought into sad bondage. Countless thousands have been led to believe that if they truly received Christ as their personal Lord and Savior—such a radical change would be wrought in them; that henceforth, they would be immune from evil thoughts, foul imaginations, wicked desires, and worldly lusts.
But after they did receive Christ as their Lord and Savior, it was not long before they discovered that things inside them were very different from what they expected—that old inclinations were still present, that internal corruptions now harassed them, and in some instances, more fiercely than ever before. Because of the painful consciousness of “the plague of his own heart” (1 Kings 8:38), many a one has drawn the conclusion that he was never soundly converted, that he was mistaken in believing he had been born of God, and great is their distress.
Now one very important and necessary part of the work to which God has called His servants, is “take up the stumbling block out of the way of my people” (Isaiah 57:14 and compare Isaiah 62:10); and if he would faithfully attend unto this part of his duty—then he must make it crystal clear to his hearers—believers and unbelievers—that God has nowhere promised to eradicate indwelling sin from the one who truly believes the Gospel. He does save the penitent and believing sinner from the love, the guilt, the penalty, and the reigning power of sin; but He does not in this earthly life, deliver him from the presence of sin. The miracle of God’s saving grace does indeed effect a real, a radical, and a lasting change in all who are the subjects of it—some being more conscious of the same and giving clearer evidence of it, and some (who previously led a moral, and perhaps a religious, life) less so; but in no single instance does He remove from the being of that person “the flesh” or evil principle, which he brought with him when he entered this world. That which was born of the flesh is still flesh—though that which was born of the Spirit is spirit (John 3:6).
Not that the minister of the Gospel must swing to the opposite extreme and teach, or even convey the impression, that the Christian can expect nothing better than a life of defeat while he is left in this scene; that his foes—both internal and external—are far too mighty for him to successfully cope with. God does not leave His dear child to cope with those foes in his own power—but strengthens him with might by His Spirit in the inner man. Yet he is required to be constantly on his guard, lest he grieve the Spirit and give occasion for Him to suspend His operations.
God tells the saint, “My grace is sufficient for you” (2 Corinthians 12:9)—but that grace must be sought (Hebrews 4:16) and used (Luke 8:18); and if it is sought humbly and used aright—then “he gives more grace” (James 4:6), so that he is enabled to fight the good fight of faith. Satan is indeed mighty—but there is one yet mightier: “Greater is he who is in you, than he who is in the world” (1 John 4:4); and therefore is the Christian called upon to “be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might” (Ephesians 6:10); and though while severed from Christ, he can produce no fruit (John 15:5)—yet strengthened by Christ, he “can do all things” (Philippians 4:13). Christians are “overcomers” (1 John 2:13, 5:4; Revelation 2:7).
Thus we see once more that there is a balance to be preserved: Avoiding at the one extreme the error of sinless perfectionism, and at the other, that of spiritual defeatism. Truth is to be presented in its Scriptural proportions, and not dwelt unduly on either its gloomy or its bright side.
When one is regenerated, he is effectually called “out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9); yet if an unconverted soul reading those words forms the idea that should God quicken him—that all ignorance and error will be immediately dispelled from his soul, he draws an unwarrantable conclusion and will soon discover his mistake!
The Lord Jesus promises to give rest unto the heavily-laden soul who comes to Him—but He does not thereby signify that such an one will henceforth enjoy perfect serenity of heart and mind. He saves His people from their sins (Matthew 1:21)—yet not in such a way that they will have no occasion to ask for the daily forgiveness of their transgressions (Luke 11:4). It is not that His salvation is an imperfect one—but that it is not completely experienced or entered into in this life—as such passages as Romans 13:11, 1 Peter 1:5 show. The “best wine” is reserved into the last. Glorification is yet future. “We know that when He appears, we will be like Him, because we will see Him as He is!” 1 John 3:2
Above we have said that when such characters as those mentioned in the opening paragraph appropriate 2 Corinthians 5:17 to describe their “experience,” they make an unwarrantable and misleading use of that verse. They are not the only ones who do so, and since many have been stumbled by failing to understand that verse aright, a careful exposition of it is called for. “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new” (2 Corinthians 5:17).
It must be admitted in all fairness that the sound of those words decidedly favors those who claim that such a miracle of grace has been wrought in them, that the old nature with its evil propensities was eradicated when they were born again. But in view of the very different experience of the vast majority of God’s children of the last two thousand years—of whom we have any reliable knowledge—must we not pause and ask: Is that really the sense of the verse?
If so, how shall we account for the actual history of the most eminent Christians? And if not, what other meaning can we legitimately ascribe to that verse? Probably there are few of our readers who have not been perplexed by its language.
The careful student will observe that we have omitted the opening word of 2 Corinthians 5:17, which is done eight times out of ten by those who quote it; nor are we acquainted with any exposition that satisfactorily explains its force. “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature.” Obviously, that “therefore” is where we must begin in any critical examination of the verse. It indicates that a conclusion is here drawn from a foregoing premise, and tells us this verse is not to be regarded as a thing apart, complete in itself, but rather as intimately related to something preceding. On turning back to verse 16, we find that it, in turn, opens with “Therefore” (the same Greek word being used), which at once serves to classify the passage, indicating that it is a didactic or doctrinal one, wherein the apostle is presenting an argument, or a reasoned-out train of thought; and not a hortatory passage wherein a call unto duty is made, or a biographical passage in which an experience of the soul is delineated. Unless that key be used, the passage remains locked to us.
The key is hung upon the door by the presence of its introductory “therefore”, and if it be ignored, and instead, we force the door, then its lock is strained, or its panels and hinges broken. In other words, the interpretation given to it will be a strained and unsatisfactory one. And such has indeed been the case with those who sought to explain its meaning without giving any due weight to using the very word on which the verse turns. Disregarding the opening “therefore,” it has been commonly assumed that 2 Corinthians 5:17 is speaking of the miracle of regeneration and describing what is thereby effected in the one experiencing the same. But those who gave the verse that meaning at once felt themselves faced with difficulties, and were obliged to whittle down its terms or qualify its language—for it is an undeniable fact, a matter of painful consciousness to Christians, that though some of the “old things” which characterized them in their unregeneracy have “passed away,” yet others of them have not done so, nor have “all things” yet become new within them.
In his commentary on 2 Corinthians, one otherwise excellent expositor tells us: “In the Old Testament [Isaiah 43:18-19; 65:17] the effects to be produced by the coming of the Messiah are described as a making all things new. The final consummation of the Redeemer’s kingdom in Heaven is described in the same terms, ‘he who sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new’ (Revelation 21:5). The inward spiritual change in every believer is set forth in the same words, because it is the type and necessary condition of this great cosmic change. What would avail any conceivable change in things external, if the heart remained a cage of unclean birds? The apostle therefore says that if any man be in Christ, he experiences a change analogous to that predicted by the prophet, and like that which we still anticipate when earth shall become Heaven. ‘Old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new’ (2 Corinthians 5:17). Old opinions, plans, desires, principles, and affections are passed away; new views of truth, new principles, new apprehensions of the destiny of man, and new feelings and purposes fill and govern the soul.”
It is accrediting just such extravagant statements as the above—which is a fair example of those made by many other good men who have held influential positions in the churches—that have brought so many of God’s little ones into cruel bondage, for they know full well that no such great change has been wrought in them as like unto that which will obtain on the new earth, concerning which God assures us, “there shall in no wise enter into it anything that defiles, neither whatever works abomination, or makes a lie,” and where “there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away” (Revelation 21:27, 4).
We make so bold as to say that the Christian experience of that expositor falsified his own assertions. “Old opinions and plans” many indeed pass away when a person is soundly converted; but it is not true that old “desires, principles, and affections” pass away—on the contrary, they remain, are active, and plague him to the end of his course; otherwise, there would be no corruptions for him to resist, no lusts which he is exhorted to mortify.
It is really surprising to find some excellent men—whose writings are generally most helpful, and whose memories we revere—uttering such absurdities when interpreting 2 Corinthians 5:17 (The explanation is that, like our self, they too were compassed with infirmity). Another of them wrote of the Christian: “He concludes that he is in Christ, because he is ‘a new creature.’ He finds ‘old things passed away, and all things become new.’ His old secure, benumbed, unfaithful conscience is passed away. His old perverse, stubborn, rebellious will; he has a new will. His old strong, sensual, corrupt, unbelieving, impenitent heart is gone . . . his old disordered, misplaced, inordinate affections . . . He has new thoughts, new inclinations, new desires, new delights, new employments.”
True, he closes his paragraph by saying, “formerly carnal, but now in some measure spiritual; formerly worldly, but now in some degree has his conversation in Heaven; formerly profane, but now in part holy”—which not only virtually contradicts his previous sentences, but serves to illustrate what we said above about men creating their own difficulties when ignoring the key to a passage, and being obliged to tamper with its terms to make them fit their interpretations.
The Greek word for “passed away” is a very strong one, as may be seen from such passages as Matthew 5:18, 24:34; James 1:10; 2 Peter 3:10, and signifies (not from its etymology, but its usage) a removal, a making an end of. Whatever be the “old things” referred to in 2 Corinthians 5:17, they are not merely subdued, or temporarily put to sleep, only to waken again with fresh vigor, but are “passed away”—done with. Therefore, to define those “old things” as “old affections, old dispositions of Adam”—as still another theologian does—is utterly misleading, and one had supposed his own spiritual history had taught him better than to make such an assertion. An older writer is somewhat more satisfactory when he says, “By old things, he means all those corrupt principles, selfish ends, and fleshly lusts belonging to the carnal state, or the old man; all these are ‘passed away,’ not simply and perfectly, but only in part at present, and wholly in hope and expectation hereafter.” The very fact that such a frittering of “passed away” was deemed necessary makes us highly suspicious of his definition of the “old things;” and should make us search for an alternative one.
To say that the “old things” which are “passed away” (2 Corinthians 5:17) when a person becomes a new creature in Christ refer to “old desires, principles, and appetites” is flatly contradicted by Romans 7:14-25. The old nature, the “flesh”—or evil principle—most certainly does not pass away, either wholly or in part, neither at the new birth, nor at any subsequent stage of his life while the Christian is left here on earth. Instead, the “flesh” remains in the saint, and “lusts against the Spirit” (Galatians 5:17), producing a continual conflict as he seeks to walk with and please the Lord.
That a real and radical change takes place in the soul when a miracle of grace is wrought within him is indeed blessedly true, but to describe that miraculous change as consisting of, or being accompanied by, the removal of the old sinful nature or indwelling corruption is totally unwarranted and utterly unscriptural. And it is just because so many have been confused by this error and sufficiently affected by it as to have their assurance undermined and their peace disturbed, that we are now writing upon the subject.
It should be carefully noted that 2 Corinthians 5:17 is not describing some exceptional experience which is attained unto only by a favored few from among the children of God, but rather it is postulating that which is common to the whole family: “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature.” The “if any man” shows that we have here a proposition which is general, one which is of universal application unto the regenerate—as much so as though it said, “if any man be in Christ, his sins are pardoned.” This at once assures the Christian that it is not through any fault of his that he comes short of such a standard as some would appear to measure unto. Nor is our verse giving an account of that which is gained as he reaches Christian maturity, still less that which will characterize him only when he reaches Heaven; instead, it predicates a present fact the moment one is vitally united to Christ. It is true that the substantive “he is” (or “there is”—Revised Version) is supplied by the translators, yet the legitimacy, or rather the necessity, of it is evident from what follows: “Old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”
The opening “Therefore” bids us ponder the context. Upon turning to the verse immediately preceding, here is what we read: “Therefore henceforth know we no man after the flesh: yes, though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we him [so] no more” (2 Corinthians 5:16). We wonder how many of our readers understand that verse, or have even formulated any idea of what it is speaking about. If they consult the commentators, instead of finding help, they are likely to be the more perplexed—for no two of them are agreed as to its meaning, and some of them would have been more honest if they frankly owned they did not understand it, instead of darkening counsel by a multitude of meaningless words. Now is it not obvious that in order to a right perception of its significance, we must seek answers to the following questions: Whom was the apostle here instructing? Upon what particular subject was he writing? What required his taking up this subject? Or, in other words, What was his special design on this occasion? This alone will afford us the true perspective.
As we have pointed out before in these pages, it is necessary to know something of the circumstances which occasioned the writing of the Corinthian epistles, if we are to obtain an insight of many of their details. Soon after Paul departed from Corinth (Acts 18), false teachers assailed the saints there, seeking to undermine the apostle’s influence and discredit his ministry. The result was that the believers became divided into opposing classes, engaged in disputes, and being guilty of carnal walking (1 Corinthians 1:11-12). Those who said, “I am of Paul; and I am of Apollos” were in all probability the Gentile converts; whereas those who boasted, “I am of Cephas; and I am of Christ” (glorying in a fleshly relation to Him which the Gentiles could not lay claim unto) were undoubtedly the converted Jews. Thus, the enemies of the Gospel had succeeded in sowing the seeds of discord in the Corinthian assembly, creating jealousies and animosities by an appeal to racial prejudices, seeking to perpetuate the ancient enmities of Semitism and anti-Semitism.
Those false teachers had come to Corinth with “letters of commendation” (2 Corinthians 3:1), issued most likely by the temple authorities. They were “Hebrews” (2 Corinthians 11:22), professing to be “ministers of Christ”—that is, of the Messiah (2 Corinthians 11:23); yet, in fact, they were “false apostles, deceitful workers,” the ministers of Satan (2 Corinthians 11:13-15). They had attempted to Judaize the Gentile saints, insisting that such could not participate in the covenant blessings and privileges of God’s people, unless they be circumcised and become the proselytes of the Mosaic religion. It was because of this the apostle had written to them, “Circumcision is nothing, and uncircumcision is nothing, but the keeping of the commandments of God” (1 Corinthians 7:19). That was indeed a startling thing to affirm, for it was God who had instituted circumcision (Genesis 17:10), and for many centuries, it had entailed peculiar privileges (Exodus 12:48). The Lord Jesus Himself had been circumcised (Luke 2:21). But now it was “nothing”—useless, worthless. Why so? Because of the great change which had taken place dispensationally in the kingdom or economy of God upon earth. Judaism had become effete, a thing of the past. Something new and better had displaced it.
Those false teachers had evidently denied that Paul was a true apostle of Christ, arguing (on the basis of what is recorded in Acts 1:21-22) that he could not be such, since he had not (as the Eleven) accompanied Him during the days of His flesh. This had obliged him to write unto the saints vindicating the Divine authority of his apostleship (1 Corinthians 9:1-3). That his first epistle had produced a beneficial effect upon them is clear from 2 Corinthians 1 and 2, yet it had neither silenced the “false apostles,” nor completely established those whose faith they had shaken; hence, the need for his second epistle to them. On the one hand, the major part of the assembly had expressed the warmest affection for him (2 Corinthians 1:14; 7:7); but on the other, the boldness and influence of his adversaries had increased, and their false charges and determined efforts to repudiate his apostolic authority (2 Corinthians 10:2; 11:2-7, 12:15) moved him to indignation. Those two adverse elements at Corinth is what serve to explain the sudden change from one subject to another, and the noticeable variations of language in this second epistle.
In the third chapter of 2 Corinthians (to which we devoted an article in the November 1938 issue), the apostle vindicated his apostleship in a manner which demonstrated the irrelevancy and worthlessness of the objections of his detractors, and which placed the faith of his converts on an unshakeable foundation by affirming that God had made him and his companions “able [or “sufficient”] ministers of the new testament” (2 Corinthians 3:6)—or as it should be rendered, “of the new covenant.” Therein, he struck the keynote to all that follows, for unto the end of the chapter, he proceeded to draw a series of contrasts between the old and new covenants, and exhibited the immeasurable superiority of the latter over the former. By so doing, he entirely cut away all ground from under the feet of those who were troubling the Corinthian saints—for what mattered it whether or no Paul had companied with Christ during the three and a half years of His public ministry, or whether his converts were circumcised or not, seeing that the old order of things, Judaism, had been “done away” (2 Corinthians 3:7)! Who would complain at the absence of the stars, when the sun was shining in its meridian splendor?
With unmistakable wisdom from on High, Paul wove into the texture of his personal vindication a lovely picture of the various respects in which Christianity excelled Judaism. The one was founded upon what was written on “the tables of stone” (Deuteronomy 9:9) and the ceremonial law which accompanied the same; the other is rendered valid and vital by “the Spirit of the living God” writing in “fleshy tables of the heart” (2 Corinthians 3:3). The one was “of the letter” which “kills;” the other “of the spirit” which “gives life” (2 Corinthians 3:6), those expressions denoting the leading characteristics of the two covenants or economies—compare Romans 7:6. Judaism is likened unto “the letter,” because it was something external and objective, for it presented a rule of Divine duty, though it conveyed neither disposition nor power to obey; Christianity has to do with the soul and is made effectual—Romans 1:16. “The one was external, the other spiritual; the one was an outward precept, the other an inward power. In the one case, the law was written on stone; in the other, on the heart. The one was therefore letter, the other spirit” (Charles Hodge, 1797-1878).
In 2 Corinthians 3:7-11, the apostle contrasts the ministrations of the two dispensations or economies. It is not—as the Dispensationalists erroneously teach—that he here opposes Grace (a word never occurring in this chapter!) to the Moral Law, but that Christianity is set over against Judaism. It is a great mistake to suppose that Paul was here speaking of the Ten Commandments as such. Rather, it is the whole Mosaic system which he has in view—”when Moses is read” (2 Corinthians 3:15), the reference is primarily to the ceremonial law, wherein there was much that pointed forward to Christ and typified His work of redemption, but which, because of their carnality, the Jews discerned not. Judaism was a “ministration of death” (2 Corinthians 3:7)—the Moral Law is designed to slay all self-righteousness, for it condemns, and brings in the whole world guilty before God, thereby revealing the sinner’s dire need of salvation. The ceremonial law with its priesthood and ritual likewise exhibited both the guilt and pollution of man, as well as the ineffable holiness and inexorable justice of God, so that without shedding of blood is no remission. The brazen altar in the outer court, where the sacrificial victims were slain, testified loudly to this fact that Judaism is “a ministration of death. “
