The King's Pardon
Let's be honest. For many of us, the Gospel was presented as a kind of royal pardon, secured by a single act. We're told that if we just pray the "Sinner's Prayer," our sentence is commuted and we're clear. The problem is when this prayer, intended as a heartfelt plea, is treated more like a spiritual incantation—a set of magic words to guarantee a future result, regardless of what follows.
We’ve all heard it. Many of us have preached it. It’s simple, clear, and it gets "decisions." But is it helpful? And more importantly, is it true?
I’m increasingly convinced that this transactional model has created a generation of spiritually anemic believers. They are banking on a past event while ignoring their present spiritual bankruptcy, having traded a dynamic, lifelong covenant journey for a one-time, legal declaration.
The Problem with the Formula
The issue crystallizes when the Sinner's Prayer is treated as a spiritual incantation. The focus shifts from the posture of a broken and repentant heart to the mere recitation of a formula, as if the words themselves hold some kind of magical power.
Couple this with a warped view of "Once Saved, Always Saved." The biblical doctrine, properly called the Perseverance of the Saints, is a glorious truth. It teaches that our salvation is held secure by God's sovereign power, not our own flimsy grip (John 10:28-29). This is meant to comfort the struggling saint, not condone the lazy one. But when misunderstood, it becomes a license for apathy.
Combine the two—a one-time incantation and an ironclad guarantee—and you get the perfect recipe for lukewarmness. Why bother with the hard work of discipleship if the deal was sealed at summer camp? The initial conversion becomes the finish line, not the starting gun.
From Pardon to Relationship: The Better Way
So, what’s the alternative? We must reclaim the stunning depth of the King's pardon. Imagine it this way: The King, in an act of staggering grace, offers an irrevocable grant of amnesty. From His side, the offer is permanent; the ink on the decree never fades.
But it's not a magical forcefield. It's an invitation to leave the wilderness of rebellion and come live as a citizen in His kingdom. And here is the sobering truth: we retain the freedom to walk away. We can, after tasting the goodness of the King's feast, decide we prefer the wilderness and reject the life that comes with the pardon—a life that includes allegiance to the King. The pardon is free, but it is not unconditional; it requires that we come into the kingdom and stay there. This makes the warnings of Scripture sound less like a threat and more like the King's loving plea from the city walls: "Don't leave! Everything you need is here. Why would you return to the death you were rescued from?"
This is why the Bible moves from legal metaphors to relational ones, like marriage or adoption. An adoption is finalized in a moment, but it marks the beginning of a life meant for growth, maturity, and bearing the family name with honor—a life you can still choose to reject.
Already, But Not Yet
This dynamic is why the Bible talks about salvation in three tenses:
- I have been saved (Justification): This is the past-tense, decisive moment you were declared righteous—pardoned—in Christ. This is an already accomplished fact.
- I am being saved (Sanctification): This is the present-tense, ongoing process of learning to live as a loyal citizen of the King. This is the not yet part of our experience.
- I will be saved (Glorification): This is the future-tense, final promise that one day we will be fully and finally home, perfected in the presence of God.
Salvation isn't just a past declaration; it's a present reality and a future hope.
So, Am I Secure or Not?
But wait. This idea that we can walk away sounds terrifying. This is where we must rest in the bedrock of the gospel.
The late Dr. Michael Heiser put it with stunning clarity: "That which cannot be gained by moral perfection cannot be lost by moral imperfection."
Let that sink in. Your standing was not gained by your good works, and so it cannot be lost by your bad ones. It was secured entirely by the perfect life and substitutionary death of Jesus Christ. It is a free gift.
Our security, then, does not rest on the strength of our grip on God, but on the strength of God’s grip on us. Jude 24 says God is "able to keep you from stumbling." And here’s the beautiful mystery: the evidence of God’s unbreakable grip on you is that you don't walk away. His preservation fuels your perseverance. As Philippians 2:12-13 puts it, we "work out" our salvation precisely because it is "God who works in" us. Your effort doesn't maintain the pardon, but it is the primary evidence that you are joyfully living within its reality.
Let's stop promoting spiritual incantations. Let's stop treating the King's pardon like a get-out-of-jail-free card. Let's start inviting people into a lifelong, transformative journey with a Savior who is powerful enough to not only rescue them from their past, but to empower them to live as His people for all of eternity.
That's a Gospel that doesn't just save you from judgment; it saves you from yourself, for a life of purpose, growth, and joy that starts right now.
A Question to Ponder: If we truly embraced salvation as an "already, but not yet" journey, how would it change the way we measure success in our churches?
Written by
Brandon Thompson