4.21.26 ~ Builder vs. Bystander, Part 3: Works Righteousness

Happy 17th day of counting the Omer! You are one-third of the way through the ascent in preparation for the insightful revelation waiting for you at Pentecost this year, 2026. I know He is proud of you!

Most believers know that God is in a relationship with us. In a relationship, both parties are affected by what the other one does, for better or worse. The critics of maintaining good works (Titus 3:8, 14) are strong proponents of the truth that we do not earn our way into the family. We do not purchase salvation. We do not perform our way in. And that is right! That is absolutely right. It has never been considered otherwise. Even Judaism—as much as they get a bad rap about trying to earn their salvation—never considered that. By the way, you cannot earn your way into being a child of God (John 1:11); it is established by covenantal promise, faith, God's initiative, and your response. It is not just a transactional thing.

Now, the Protestant tradition has a category for what I am describing. It is called justification. That is how you get in. That is grace through faith. But there is another term often neglected—it is called... drumroll, please... anyone know about it? The other side of justification is supposed to be what happens through your effort, your obedience, your growth, your works. Martin Luther and John Calvin wrote about sanctification, but somewhere along the way, this distinction collapsed into this popular teaching called "works righteousness." It kind of started with Luther to become this allergy to striving in our own effort. That is such a familiar word—this idea of striving—so the seminaries have created strict categories, but in the pews, the people absorb this simpler and very corrosive idea: trying hard is suspicious. And this has created generations—actually centuries—of believers who are confused about what they are supposed to do with their lives.

"I am saved by grace." They know that good works do not save them, but then what? What is the point of doing anything? Why build? Why work? Why try? God is not impressed with your efforts to overcome the world, the flesh, and the devil. As a matter of fact, maybe He is actually mad about it. And that is mostly Paul's misinterpreted fault—it is not Paul's fault. It is our misinterpretation that has set us on a faulty path.

You can be in a relationship with God—a call to become builders and creators, doers of good works instead of pagan works. And where are the good works defined? They are defined especially in Paul's time by the Torah, God's instructions for life here on earth. And somewhere along the way, that message got turned against any kind of human effort of any real substance. Consequently, Paul's words are used to make building suspicious and striving dangerous. And to suggest that wanting to impress God with your work is the very thing that you were saved from. Oh my stars!

But let us take a different angle. Let us talk about works and push back on that. After Israel came into covenant marriage with God, He told them to build a home for Him to dwell in (Ex. 25–31; 35–40). In Exodus 25, the Tabernacle narrative begins, right? Who wants to talk about rings and dyes and boards and stones and every silver socket? The longest narrative in the Torah starts in Exodus 25. God says something absolutely incredible right at the beginning of this section: "Speak to the people of Israel that they take for me a contribution from every man whose heart moves him. You shall receive the contribution for me." And then He says the "why": "Let them build me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them" (Ex. 25:8).

OK, so what? We know, we know. The God who spoke the universe into existence, who does not need anything from anyone, is saying it. The infinite God, omnipresent, uncontainable, not held in a structure—this God says to a recently freed slave bunch, "Why don't you guys do something for me? Why don't you build me something?" He does not actually need it. Why would He give such detailed instructions—the measurements, the materials, the colors—if it does not matter what we do? For one thing, the psalms and the prophets are clear: the heavens are His throne, the earth is His footstool. What house could contain Him (Isa. 66:1; Ps. 99:5)? And yet He asks me to build something. Why would He ask if human effort is irrelevant to Him? Apparently it is not irrelevant.

He could have just shown up and, like the creation story, just made something for Himself. At Mount Sinai, in thirty-three days, He actually did make His presence known. He could have done it any way He wanted without any human involvement. He does not need permission. He does not need materials. He does not need craftsmen. But that is not what He does. He says, "Bring it. Bring your gold, silver, bronze, blue, purple, scarlet. Bring me your acacia, your oil, your spices. And then build Me a house. I want you to create. I want you to do something." He is inviting them to participate in His grand scheme.

And listen, for those of us who have or have had little kids, here is an appropriate analogy: you have a project that needs to get done. Four-year-old Bill wants to help. Is he going to be the ultimate helper for you and your project? He is actually probably going to not help at all, slow you down, and make a mess. And if efficiency were the goal, what would you say? "Get away, no." But that is not the goal. The goal is partnership. The goal is forming them into some kind of person who builds things, who contributes, who knows they have something to offer, and in the process learns the reward of serving—even the feeling of bringing joy to Dad because "I helped." We are not four-year-olds, but that is what God was doing with Israel. Do you understand it? He is inviting them into the work because the partnership is forming. You do not become partners by watching. It is not a silent partnership. We are not silent partners.

We talk about obeying God, worshiping God, and surrendering to God, and all of it is vital. But partnering with God, building with God, rolling up your sleeves with God, working alongside the Creator of the universe—well, that is impossible. Is that true? It is very possible, though it is less familiar territory, especially for the people who have been formed by theology that emphasizes human passivity to the point of becoming the "frozen chosen." Just live here and pray and float around and sing songs, and maybe you should build an orphanage, but ultimately, you are getting out of your personal Egypt, you are going up, it is going to be great.

For some, this is reality. But not for you!

Keep building for His glory. He is impressed with your obedience and proud beyond words.

Shalom,
Alan