To be sure, our works contribute nothing to our justification, but the presence of the Holy Spirit is real and his enabling, compelling power is real. Good works of believers are really good – not because of the inherent goodness of man, but because of the power of the God. Grace is astounding not just because God forgives our sin, but because he enables us to do good works which he ordained (Eph 2:10). “It is actually an affront to God to suggest that Spirit-wrought works in believers are ‘filthy rags.'” (p.71)

It’s refreshing to read a book whose author has done his homework.Antinomianism is such a book, characterized both by theological discernment and incisive clarity. There are no wasted sentences, no feel-good fluff only to amuse but freely to ignore. Though a small work, it is a full work. Though a short read, it is a savory read. Having studied broadly and thought deeply, Mark Jones packs a punch in every paragraph. Skillfully navigating historic, Reformed theology concerning core gospel themes, Jones implicitly and explicitly – yet always effectively – weds historic debates to the contemporary scene.

In some ways, this book is a plea. It’s a cry in the wilderness. It begs us who live in an age of cheap grace sound bites and Reformed Twitter tweets to think biblically, carefully, and self-critically. It implores us to abandon slothful, would-be versions of the gospel. And because Jones rehearses and summarizes mainstream Reformed thought chiefly from the seventeenth century, the book’s illumining freshness to our theological reflection is itself a rebuke to contemporary theological laziness. The gap between Rutherford17 and Reformation21 stretches well beyond the temporal.

Antinomian is an ugly word. No one would willingly own it. Any uninformed postmodernist would reject it outrightly: “Anti- what? I’m not anti-anything!” The more informed might deflect antinomian culpability with ready theological indignation: “Hey, I believe in sanctification. I believe in the third use of the law. I believe in God’s call to holiness. It’s patently clear: I’m no antinomian!”

Antinomianism may (convincingly!) persuade you otherwise. With his comprehensive analysis and nuanced reflections, Jones calls the reader to beware the “golden white devil” of antinomianism by revisiting core questions in the theologically sophisticated ways of our forefathers. The goal, of course, is not merely an historical survey of past corrections to passé theological aberrations. Rather, the purpose is to expose and correct antinomian errors of past ages that have again reared their stubborn heads. Those heads, as Jones infers, may well rest on our own shoulders (p.xv).

Jones does not conceal his concern for current perpetrators, though he only names one advocate of contemporary antinomian theology – Tullian Tchividjian (pp.90-91, 116, 128). His restraint is commendable: “The charge of antinomianism should only be made carefully, and for that reason I have refrained from implicating certain individuals who have leanings in that direction.” (p.128) Rather than providing a checklist of felons, Jones simply lays out the data and pleads, if the shoe fits, wear it.

Yet he does it with the gravitas of expert historical analysis combined with the grace of marked deference. Criticisms land deftly yet never unkindly. He argues as a pastor, rather than an armchair polemicist, whose criticisms flail wildly but rarely make contact with reality. Some might wish Jones had taken more contemporary theologians to task, but it is arguably the case that limiting referents more effectively forces the pressing question: “Is it I, Lord?” Further naming could prevent an unlisted culprit from honestly confronting his antinomianism.

Antinomianism isn’t new. It’s not even just old. It’s original, Adamic, and pandemic – it was the first sin and its spirit characterizes all sin. It was Adam’s sin and it is our sin. Sin is opposition to the will of God attitudinally and practically, intentionally and deceptively, overtly and subtly, and always guiltily. Without nuance or caveat, the Apostle John calls sin, “lawlessness.” Short. Bitter. Damning. Sin is violation of the law of God. Sin opposes God’s law and therefore the God of the law. Sin is antinomianism.

 Read More