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Understanding Justification Through Faith
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Paul's letter to the Romans addresses a fundamental question: how do we get right with God? Writing to a church at the epicenter of the Roman Empire—surrounded by wickedness and idolatry, yet divided over theology—Paul confronts a divided community. Jewish believers and non-Jewish believers are grappling with their place in God's family, and Paul is bringing clarity to these "pretty complicated matters."
Paul establishes early that this is the gospel of God, not his personal philosophy. He declares boldly: "I am not socially embarrassed about this. I am not intellectually embarrassed about this." His conviction flows from an unyielding belief that every person spends eternity somewhere—and that humanity has a universal problem. Regardless of approach—morality, religion, indifference—we all come up short. We do not even live up to our own standards, let alone God's.
By the end of chapter 3, Paul has taken "a wrecking ball to Performance" and "a wrecking ball to Religion." He demolishes the idea that we can earn our way to salvation or be good enough to make ourselves right with God. Instead, he reveals a crucial distinction: there is now a righteousness that is being revealed through faith apart from the law.
This is "the right hook to the jaw" for the Jewish community. God's activity in our life—pardon, provision, righteousness—has nothing to do with religious performance, anything we're doing, or any "gravitational pole we are creating." It is only because of what Christ has done.
Our faith as believers is in Jesus and in the finished work of the Cross. Christ:
We identify with that as Christians. That is the source of our salvation—nothing else.
Grace plus anything is anything but Grace.
You do not have to add additional things to supplement the deficiency of grace. His grace is sufficient. What Christ did on the cross is enough for past, present, and future sins. We do not step into eternity welcomed into the family of God because of our own goodness; it is because of the finished work of the Cross.
Paul knows there will be religious people arguing with him—people steeped in Jewish religious heritage who still have objections. So he shifts strategy: from theology to illustration. He is "so audacious" he "goes to market" with his faith, standing publicly and inviting everybody to the table.
He does not pick random examples. Instead, he chooses their two greatest heroes, their two favorite examples: Abraham and David. If Paul can show that even these heroes were justified by faith, not by law, his argument becomes irrefutable.
Paul asks: "What then shall we say that Abraham discovered in this matter?" The key question is whether Abraham's justification was something new or something old. Paul's answer: it is old. This was not a new idea; it was promised beforehand. The law and the prophets testify to it.
Paul then quotes Genesis:
Abraham believed God and it was credited to him as righteousness.
This is the critical statement. When a man works, his wages are not credited to him as a gift but as an obligation. However:
To the man who does not work but trust God who justifies the wicked—his faith is credited as righteousness.
Notice the stunning phrase: the God who justifies the ungodly. This is why it is good news.
Paul's argument cuts deeper: Was Abraham credited righteousness before or after circumcision? The answer: before. He was credited righteous before he had any outward markings of the law upon his life. This destroys the religious argument that external practices—circumcision, baptism, church attendance—are what make us right with God.
Paul then invokes David:
Blessed are they whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man who sin the Lord will never count against him.
Again, Paul demonstrates that forgiveness and righteousness come apart from works. This is not new teaching; it echoes throughout Scripture.
There are two fundamental principles: the principle of works and the principle of grace.
These are two very different frameworks. The critical question is: How do you approach God? Do you approach him with a works principle or a grace principle?
Consider what happens when we drift into works thinking: We show up to church after a conflict with our family. We're ashamed. We think, "If everybody knew what I just did, they'd be disappointed. This whole place would go up in flames." We sit there not even listening to the message because we're anchored to a works principle.
We are making ourselves the center of attention, the focal point. We focus on our achievements and our performance. But Paul says: you're going to miss it. You're going to miss the good news.
The reason most people walk around insecure in their faith is because they have a works theology, not a grace theology.
This distinction matters profoundly. If you receive your salvation as a byproduct of works, it will "zap you of your gratitude" and "zap you of your praise." Why? Because it has nothing to do with God; it has everything to do with you. God is now obligated to reward you because you earned it.
But forgiveness is not wages; forgiveness is a gift. There is a huge distinction.
When you show up to church, you are not here to earn anything. It is not a wage; it is a gift. You receive it through faith as the conduit. By believing, God credits to you righteousness.
The language Paul uses—"credited" or "counted"—is an accounting term. Imagine standing in court, broke, with a $100,000 fine. Someone walks in, writes a check for $100,000, and pays the judge. The fine is paid. But then—and here is the amazing part—that same person deposits money into your account. Your debt is paid and your account now overflows in righteousness.
This is what happens in Christ. Jesus paid the debt. Simultaneously, he credited—deposited—his righteousness into your account. Your debt is paid and your account runneth over in righteousness.
Notice what Paul does not say: He does not say Abraham was made righteous. He says Abraham was credited righteousness. We often assume that the moment you give your life to Christ, you wake up the next day with no shortcomings and no pitfalls. But that is not how justification works.
Abraham was not perfect. His story demonstrates this clearly—much of the tension in the Middle East today traces back to his pitfalls and decisions. Yet what is amazing is that Christ credits to him his righteousness.
When you "play with house money," you play with boldness and confidence. When you realize I don't have to manufacture this, you begin to operate from a place of strength rooted in the righteousness of Christ. Every single day, his righteousness permeates through your life, and you too become and live a more righteous life.
This is the gospel's power: It robs you of your shame. There is no bankruptcy of the soul anymore. You have been credited righteousness.
Paul emphasizes the timing intentionally. Abraham was credited righteousness before he did anything with the law. This destroys the assumption that external religious practices establish our standing with God. The model is faith—and faith is available to anyone.
This is the primary tension Paul addresses in Romans: the Jew and Gentile question. He is saying: You don't have to be a Jew. If the model is faith in what Christ did, anybody can do that. The barrier is removed. Faith is the only requirement.
God called Abraham to leave everything and step into the unknown. God made a promise that through his seed would come a blessing to redeem and bless the world. And Abraham believed God.
Here is the significant difference: There is a difference between believing God and believing in God. Cultural Christianity often blurs this. Many people say "I believe in God"—and culturally, most people do, at least nominally. But Abraham did more than acknowledge God's existence; he believed God.
I believe you are faithful. I believe you are trustworthy. I believe you are good. I believe you will honor your word. If you say there will come one from me who will rescue, redeem, and justify the sins of the world—I believe you.
What is amazing: God's promise was just as good as God's performance. That is faith. Abraham trusted God's word with the same confidence he would have trusted God's performance. And in that moment, God credited to him righteousness.
Even Christ was Abraham's only option. Abraham, in faith, believed God would fulfill his promise of sending a messiah. Christ himself. He believed in faith—just as we believe in the performance of Christ today.
The theology of justification should be in your top ten—really your top five—of Christian doctrines. It is that significant.
To understand justification:
He was justified by faith, not works. It is through belief, through believing and receiving—not earning and effort.
He was saved by grace, not law.
Paul's central message is that Jesus is the only option—this has been true from the very beginning of time. Justification comes through faith, not through the law. It was always through faith, never through law. Abraham in faith believed God would fulfill his promise of sending a messiah—Christ himself. He believed in the promise just as we believe in Christ's performance today.
To understand justification properly, three things must be clear:
He was justified by faith, not works. It is through belief, through believing and receiving—not earning and effort.
He was saved by grace, not law. Grace is love freely given; it is a gift. It is not rules, not restraints, not transactional, not legalistic. It is not the law. Faith, not performance. Grace, not law.
He is justified by divine power, not human effort. This principle is super significant.
The theology of justification should be in your top ten—really your top five—of Christian doctrines. If you do not have this one rock solid, you will create bizarre, unproductive, unnecessary, and even misleading things within your theology and belief system.
When you understand that you are saved by faith through grace and the divine power of a mighty God—not through your own effort—you can walk with security. You don't have to walk around insecure in your faith. You don't have to second-guess God's love for you. You don't have to think every single day as if your eternity and God's approval hang in the balance. That's nonsense—because you're not saved by works, not saved by the law, and not saved by human effort.
This is how we are grafted into the family of God. We simply say: God, I believe you. I trust you. And that is how He becomes Father. > "Father Abraham had many sons and many sons had Father Abraham." Well, we become sons and daughters of Abraham through faith, not through the law.
God made a covenant before the law with Abraham, and as children of that covenant, you and I also operate with the same faith Abraham had—a supernatural faith.
Most of what we have faith in, we have reason to have faith in. You sit down on a pew because you've sat on it before, and you know other people have sat on it before. You trust it based on consistency and history. You go to a doctor for surgery because you know the surgery has been performed successfully before.
But Abraham had no reason to believe God. He had no scripture, no Tabernacle or Temple, no Garden experience of God walking with him. God came to him in a way we'll have to wait for eternity to understand fully. God said: "In your 80s, unable to have children with a barren wife—if you go, I will show you a land. I will bring you to a place, and I will multiply the generations that come after you."
He had no frame of reference. He couldn't think, "My father took this God at his word and it worked out," or "I know someone else who did this." He had no concept to refer to. God said it, and he believed it. It was a supernatural faith.
This is why we approach the grave with confidence. We have a supernatural faith linked to the heritage of Father Abraham, who left everything he ever knew for a place he didn't know. There will come a point where you and I leave everything we've ever known for a place we don't know. We too operate with that same supernatural faith.
I believe him. I believe his promise is just as good as his performance. I know He will meet me on the other side of the grave. I know He will welcome me into His arms. I know He will say, "Well done, thy good and faithful," and I know I will stand justified in the righteousness of Christ—not because of anything I've done, but because of what Christ has done.
In many ways, Christianity is a preparation to die well. We die with dignity, courage, joy, peace, clarity, resolve, and hope. We approach death and believe: I still trust Him. I have no idea what's on the other side of this. I just trust Him.
That was Abraham's faith. I have no idea what comes tomorrow. I have no idea what comes next week, next year, or beyond the grave. But I trust Him.
And because of that trust, it has been credited to you as a gift. His righteousness is now in your account. That's wonderful news.
As a church, we have to do everything we can to keep people out of the weeds and away from assuming that their relationship with God is predicated by their performance. God loves you because of who He is, and you are saved because of what Christ did.
