103. Brief Analysis

The reason why there is no way to simultaneously hold the views of the new church and the views of the former church (that is, the modern-day church) regarding faith is that the two positions do not overlap by a third or even a tenth.

In Revelation 12 the faith of the former church is portrayed as a dragon (see §§87– 90 above) and the faith of the new church is portrayed as a woman clothed with the sun, who had a crown of twelve stars on her head. The dragon persecuted her and spewed water like a flood at her in an effort to carry her away by it. These two views cannot coexist in the same city, much less in the same household or the same mind. If they were to come together, the only possible outcome would be that the woman would be constantly exposed to rage and insanity from the dragon, and would constantly fear that the dragon would devour her son. After all, we read in Revelation 12 that the dragon stood before the woman, when she was about to give birth, in order to devour her child. After the woman gave birth, she fled into the wilderness (Revelation 12:1, 4, 6, 14– 17).

The faith held by the former church is a faith of the night; human reason has no experience of it at all. This is why we are told that we are to hold our intellect under obedience to faith. In fact, we do not even know whether it is within us or outside of us. The human will and human reason have nothing to do with it.

For that matter, goodwill, good works, repentance, the law of the Ten Commandments, and a number of other things that actually exist in the human mind have nothing to do with it (see §§79, 80, 96, 97, 98). The faith of the new church, however, forms a partnership and a marriage covenant with all the things just mentioned. As a result, this faith lives in the warmth of heaven; and because it does, it also lives in heaven’s light. It is a faith of the light.

A faith of the night and a faith of the light cannot live together any more than an owl and a dove can live together in one nest. The owl would lay its eggs there, and the dove would lay its eggs. After incubation, both sets of chicks would hatch, and then the owl would tear apart the dove’s chicks and feed them to its chicks. (Owls are voracious.)

The faith of the former church cannot live with the faith of the new church because the two are completely incompatible. The faith of the former church is descended from the idea that there are three gods (see §§30– 38 above); the faith of the new church, though, is descended from the idea that there is one God. And because the two are completely incompatible as a result, it is inevitable that if they lived together in us they would collide and cause so much conflict that everything related to the church would be destroyed in us. We would fall into such a state of spiritual madness or else spiritual unconsciousness that we would hardly know what the church was or whether such a thing even existed.

Consequently, people who are deeply committed to the faith of the old church are incapable of embracing the faith of the new church without endangering their own spiritual lives, unless they have first rejected the teachings of the former faith one by one and have uprooted that former faith along with all its live offspring and unhatched eggs (meaning tenets). What these tenets are like has been shown earlier in this work, especially in §§64– 69.

59. Brief Analysis

The statement that the intellect has to be held under obedience to faith serves as a kind of standard opening disclaimer for the tenets of the church of today. (See §54 above for an indication that what lies within them are mysteries or secrets so “transcendent” that they are incapable of flowing into the higher regions of the intellect and making sense.)

When still in school, ambitious ministers in the church who long to have a reputation as outstandingly wise and to be considered oracles in spiritual matters give special attention to teachings that are beyond the grasp of others. Although these teachings are very difficult for them to learn, they pursue them avidly. When, as a result, they gain a reputation for being wise, and become rich and famous because they possess these hidden treasures, they are granted the caps of distinguished professors or the robes of bishops.

In their thinking and in their teaching from the pulpit they focus almost exclusively on the mysteries concerning justification by faith alone and the good works that serve as faith’s lowly servants. Drawing on all they know about faith and good works, they have an amazing way of separating the two at one moment and bringing them together at another.

It is as if they were holding naked faith in one hand and works of goodwill in the other. At one moment they extend their arms wide to separate them; at another, they bring their hands together and combine the two.

Let some examples serve as illustrations. They teach that good works are not necessary for our salvation, because if we ourselves are doing them, we are doing them for some reward. Yet at the same time, they teach that good works do necessarily follow the faith that, for them, is the same as salvation itself.

They teach that faith without good works is alive and justifies us. Yet at the same time they teach that faith without good works is dead and does not justify us.

They teach that faith is not preserved or maintained by good works. Yet at the same time they teach that good works flow forth from faith like fruit from a tree, light from the sun, and heat from a fire.

They teach that good works, when appended to faith, bring it to fulfillment. Yet at the same time they teach that when good works are united as in a marriage or constitute a single form, they deprive faith of its essential ability to save us.

They teach that Christians are not under the law, and yet at the same time they teach that Christians must have a daily practice of following the law.

They teach that our good works are harmful if they become entangled in our being saved by faith — for example, if they become involved in our being forgiven our sins, justified, regenerated, brought to life, or saved. Yet they teach that our good works are profitable to us as long as they do not become entangled in our faith.

They teach that God gives us good works and crowns them with rewards, including spiritual rewards, but not with salvation or eternal life, because these are the rewards with which he crowns a faith that is separate from good works.

They teach that this faith of theirs is like a queen, who parades in magnificence because she is attended by good works as servants following along behind; but if these good works embrace her face-to-face and give her a kiss, she will be dethroned and called a whore.

Especially when they teach about the interaction between faith and good works, they suggest that from one point of view the interaction is beneficial and from another point of view it is not. They carefully choose particular words and skillfully weave them together in such a way that what they say has two meanings. There is one meaning for lay people and another for clergy. The meaning aimed at lay people covers up what they are really saying, but the meaning aimed at clergy reveals it.

Consider, if you will, whether any of the people who hear messages like these will be able to extract any teaching that will lead them to salvation? Will they not instead be blinded by the apparent contradictions in what is taught? And once blinded, will they not grope around for the means of salvation as if they were walking in total darkness? Based on the evidence of our own actions, which of us can tell whether we have any faith or not? Who knows whether it is better for us to do good works, because we fear missing out on the reward if we do not; or not to do good works, because we fear losing our faith if we do?

My friend, disentangle yourself from teachings like these. Abstain from what is evil because it is sinful, do what is good, and believe in the Lord. If you do these things, you will experience a process of being justified that will actually save you.