In his
recent book on Pauline soteriology, Michael J. Gorman wrote against
justification being declarative/forensic merely:
. . . Pauline soteriology (theology of
salvation) is inherently participatory and transformative .
. In my view, some interpreters in
justification in Paul commit one or more methodological errors: . . . Some
interpreters fail to make other sorts of connections and stop short of certain
kinds of exegetical and theological conclusions because of fear of sounding, or
even becoming, Roman Catholic or Orthodox (or Jewish?). For instance, a predisposition toward a “juridical”
(forensic, legal) view of justification can obscure the connection between
justification and justice, or rule out the possibility of seeing justification as
that which actually makes people just. Theological concerns about “works-righteousness”
or “synergism” may prevent an interpreter from seeing what Paul actually says .
. . A strong case can be made that Paul’s
understanding of justification is much more participatory and transformative than is often
thought, especially by many Protestant interpreters. (Michael J. Gorman, Participating in Christ: Explorations in
Paul’s Theology and Spirituality [Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2019],
xviii, 17-18, emphasis added)
In support
of such, Gorman continues:
A careful study of two critical passages in
Paul’s theology and spirituality Galatians 2:15-21 and Romans 6—reveals that
Paul has a basic soteriology of dying and rising with Christ that he associates
with both justification by faith/faithfulness (Gal. 2:15-21) and baptism (Rom.
6). In each passage, Paul speaks of co-crucifixion with the Messiah Jesus:
For I myself, through the law, died in
relation to the law so that I could live in relation to God. I have been crucified with the Messiah.
(Gal. 2:19 MJG)
We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body defined by Sin
would be destroyed, and we would no longer be enslaved to Sin. (Rom. 6:6 MJG)
In fact, there are multiple parallels between
Galatians 2 and Romans 6, suggesting that justification and baptism are two
sides of the same coin—the coin of initial participation, or conversion. Of
these additional similarities, two are most important. First, co-crucifixion with Christ is immediately
followed (implicitly or explicitly) by co-resurrection
with Christ: resurrection to new life in covenant relation to God. Second,
these realities of justification and baptism entail being transferred into
Christ. Paul say both that we “came to faith [that incorporates us] into [Gk. eis] the Messiah” (Gal. 2:16 MJG) and
that we have been baptized “into” (eis)
the Messiah (Rom. 6:3; Gal. 3:27), into his “body” (1 Cor. 12:13).
Whether Paul is speaking of the internal
confession of faith or the external confirmation of that faith in baptism, the
reality is the same: co-crucifixion and co-resurrection with Christ that means transfer into
Christ and thus new life in him,
which means also in his body, the ekklēsia.
One would be hard-pressed to think of ways to indicate participation more
strongly, yet succinctly, than with the trio of prepositions “with,” “into,” and
“in.”
This initial experience of dying and rising
that entails transfer and entry continues for believers once they are in
Christ. The life of cruciformity is the natural outflowing of the initial
co-crucifixion. That is why Paul can say, “I have been crucified with the
Messiah” (Gal. 2:19 MJG), using the perfect tense; it is a reality with an
initial starting point that continues into the present. Those who are in Christ
have “crucified” the deeds that characterized their former way of life, and yet
they must constantly “Put them to death” (Rom. 6:6-14; 8:10-13; Gal. 5:24; Col.
3:5). The paradox . . .is that this life of constant co-crucifixion (cruciformity)
is also suffused with the resurrection. (Ibid., 19-20, emphasis in original)
With respect
to the problems of viewing justification as merely
forensic, Gorman writes the following, with a focus on 1 Cor 6:9-11:
It may, however, be the case that
justification as divine declaration and justification as divine transformative
action are not distinct and mutually exclusive understandings of justification
for Paul, or for us. If we think of a
divine declaration as an effective word a performative utterance, then
justification as divine declaration not only permits but also requires
transformation. The neologism of Reformed theologian Peter Leithart is
particularly helpful in articulating this truth; he understands justification as
a “deliverdict,” a verdict that effects deliverance (Leithart, Baptized Body, 75-76; Leithart, Delivered from the Elements of the World,
esp. 180-214, 333-54). Whether intentionally or not, with this term Leithart
has brought together traditional Protestant approaches to Paul and apocalyptic
approaches (which generally characterize justification as “deliverance” from apocalyptic
powers), as well as other perspectives that stress justification’s
transformative element. The theological states here are, in my view, quite
high. The German Lutheran scholar Michael Wolter agrees; he breaks down the
wall between “forensic justification” and “real participation,” claiming that “If
God’s judgment about a person were not completely directly efficacious in
reality and God’s pledge of salvation
were not a salvific power that
changes the person, God would not be God”
(Wolter, Paul, 251).
A final example from Paul will help us see the close connection between the communal,
the transformative, and (possibly) the declarative elements of justification
according to the apostle. In 1 Corinthians 6:1-11 Paul attempts to persuade
the Corinthian community that the practice of pursuing lawsuits against their
siblings in the Messiah is a form of adikia
(“injustice, unrighteousness”). Although this noun itself does not occur in the
text (but see 1 Cor. 13:6), its cognate adjective adikos (“unjust, unrighteousness”), used as a noun, occurs in
verses 1 and 9, and its cognate verb adikeō
(“commit injustice, harm”) appears in verses 7 and 8. Paul’s arguments against
this injustice culminate in his claim that the unjust (adikoi)—implicitly including the Corinthian litigants—will not
inherit the kingdom of God (v. 9). The Corinthians, he says, used to practice
injustice and other evils disqualifying people from the kingdom, but then he
says, “You [the Corinthians] were washed . . . sanctified . . . justified [alla apelousasthe, alla hēgiasthēte, alla edikaiōthēte] in the name of the
Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God” (v. 11 NRSV). That is, something happened of these Corinthians,
including justification; the passive connotes an act from outside the self, an
act of grace of God. Whether or not we see in this third passive verb a divine
declaration, we cannot help but see a
transformation. The unrighteous have
become righteous; the unjust have been incorporated into the community of the
just—the community of the Messiah and the Spirit were practices of justice have
replaced practices of injustices. (Ibid., 144-46, emphasis in bold added,
italics in original)
Such should serve as a wake-up call to Protestants who hold to forensic justification.
For more, see, for e.g., my response to a Protestant apologist's attempt to defend the doctrine of imputed righteousness at: