Justification by Faith

The golden rays of sunset filtered through the window of Paul’s quarters in Rome, casting long shadows across the room. Luke had returned for another evening of deep theological discussion, this time bearing news that troubled his heart. The physician’s face bore the weight of recent encounters that had left him grappling with difficult questions.

“Paul,” Luke began, settling onto the worn wooden bench, “today I treated a man from the furthest reaches of Germania. He had never heard of Christ, yet his character showed remarkable nobility. It made me think about your teachings on the judgment seat.”

Paul looked up from his scrolls, recognizing the profound nature of Luke’s inquiry. “And this troubles you, brother?”

“It does. And there’s more,” Luke continued, his voice growing heavy. “I also learned today that Demas has fully embraced the world, abandoning the faith entirely. Two souls – one who never knew Christ, one who knew Him and turned away. What awaits them at the judgment seat?”

Paul set aside his writing materials and stood, his face reflecting both compassion and gravity. “You’ve touched upon one of the deepest mysteries of God’s justice, dear friend. Let us explore this together.”

The apostle walked to the window, gazing out at the Roman skyline as the sun descended. “First, we must understand that there is not one judgment, but several distinct judgments in God’s divine plan.”

Luke reached for his own scrolls, preparing to document this crucial teaching. “Tell me more about these distinctions.”

“The judgment seat – the bema – that I wrote about to the Corinthians pertains specifically to believers,” Paul explained, turning back to face Luke. “But there are other judgments for those who have not believed, and yes, for those who have turned away from the faith.”

“Let’s begin with your Germania patient,” Paul continued, his voice taking on a teaching tone. “Scripture tells us that God has not left Himself without witness, even among those who have never heard the gospel.”

Luke leaned forward. “How so?”

“Consider what I wrote to the Romans: ‘For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities – his eternal power and divine nature – have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.’”

“But is it fair?” Luke pressed. “To judge someone who never had the opportunity to hear about Christ?”

Paul’s eyes filled with understanding at his friend’s struggle. “Let me share with you a vision the Lord gave me regarding this matter. I saw the judgment of such souls, and it was both terrible and wonderfully just.”

The room grew quiet as Paul began to describe his vision:

“I saw a great multitude before a white throne – people from every tribe, tongue, and nation who had never heard the gospel proclaimed. But rather than a single standard of judgment, I saw how the Lord judged each according to the light they had received.”

“The Germanic tribesman you mentioned – he would be judged not against the full revelation given to us who have heard of Christ, but against the natural law written on his heart and the witness of creation itself. As it is written, ‘When Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by nature things required by the law, they are a law for themselves, even though they do not have the law.’”

Luke pondered this. “So there are different measures of judgment?”

“Yes,” Paul affirmed. “Jesus Himself said, ‘From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.’ The judgment will be perfectly calibrated to the light each person received.”

“But what of salvation?” Luke pressed. “Can such a one be saved without knowing Christ?”

Paul’s face grew solemn. “Let me be clear – salvation comes only through Christ. But we must not limit God’s ways of revealing Christ to those we understand. Remember Abraham – he was justified by faith long before the full revelation of Christ came. God may work in ways we cannot fathom to reveal Christ to those who earnestly seek Him.”

“Now,” Paul continued, his voice growing heavier, “let us turn to the more grievous matter of Demas and those who have known the truth yet turned away from it.”

Luke could see the pain in Paul’s eyes as he spoke of his former companion. The apostle walked to a chest in the corner and withdrew a sealed letter.

“I received this from Timothy just yesterday. He writes of others who have similarly abandoned the faith. This judgment, Luke, is perhaps the most severe of all.”

“Why is that?” Luke asked, though part of him already knew the answer.

“Because they have not sinned in ignorance, but with full knowledge. As it is written in Hebrews, ‘If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins is left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God.’”

The gravity of these words hung heavy in the air between them. Luke broke the silence: “Can you help me understand the difference between this and the temporary stumbling that all believers experience?”

Paul sat down across from Luke, his face etched with pastoral concern. “There is a vast difference between struggling with sin while maintaining faith in Christ, and deliberately renouncing that faith entirely. Peter denied Christ three times, yet his faith, though tested, remained. Judas, however, turned away completely.”

“And Demas?”

Paul’s voice filled with sorrow. “Demas loved this present world more than the promise of the world to come. His turning away wasn’t a momentary lapse but a calculated decision to reject the truth he had known.”

“What awaits such a one at the judgment?”

“Let me share another vision,” Paul said, his voice growing distant as he recalled it. “I saw those who had turned away from the faith standing before the judgment seat. Unlike those who never heard, these faced not only their deeds but also the full weight of the truth they had rejected.”

Luke shuddered at the description, but Paul continued:

“Their judgment was particularly severe because they had tasted the heavenly gift, had shared in the Holy Spirit, and had experienced the goodness of God’s word and the powers of the coming age. In turning away, they crucified the Son of God all over again and subjected him to public disgrace.”

“Is there no hope for such ones?” Luke asked, thinking of Demas.

Paul’s response was measured. “While they live, there is always hope for repentance. But we must not minimize the severity of their position. They have not merely sinned – all do that – but they have repudiated the very source of forgiveness.”

“How does this relate to the judgment seat you wrote about to the Corinthians?”

“Ah,” Paul replied, “now you’re seeing the crucial distinction. The bema judgment I described to the Corinthians is for believers – evaluating their works for reward or loss, yet their salvation remains secure. But for those who have turned away, they face a different judgment entirely – one that evaluates not just their works but their fundamental rejection of Christ.”

Luke was quiet for a moment, processing these heavy truths. “And those who never heard?”

“They face yet another type of judgment – one that accounts for the limited light they received. Some, through the witness of creation and conscience, may have developed a faith like Abraham’s, though they couldn’t name Christ. God alone knows their hearts.”

“It’s complex, isn’t it?” Luke observed.

“Indeed,” Paul agreed. “But would we want it any other way? Would a simplistic, one-size-fits-all judgment truly reflect the wisdom and justice of God?”

The night had deepened around them as they talked. Luke lit another lamp as Paul continued:

“Consider three men standing before God’s judgment seat. The first, a believer who lived imperfectly but maintained his faith in Christ – he faces the bema judgment I described to the Corinthians, where his works are tested but his salvation is secure.”

“The second, like your Germania patient, never heard the gospel but lived according to the light he had – he faces a judgment that accounts for what he did with what he knew of God through creation and conscience.”

“The third, like Demas, knew the truth but turned away – he faces the most severe judgment because he rejected the greatest light.”

Luke contemplated this framework. “And how does this align with God’s justice?”

Paul’s response was immediate: “Perfect justice must account for knowledge and opportunity. The servant who knew his master’s will and didn’t do it will be beaten with many blows, while the one who didn’t know will be beaten with few. This is not inequality – it is justice perfectly calibrated to responsibility.”

“But what of God’s mercy?” Luke pressed.

“Ah,” Paul smiled, “now you’re touching on the greatest mystery of all. God’s mercy and justice meet perfectly at the cross. Those who accept Christ find mercy. Those who reject Him choose justice without mercy. Those who never heard of Him are judged by a perfectly calibrated standard that accounts for their limited knowledge.”

The physician in Luke wanted more precision. “Can you break this down further?”

Paul nodded and began to explain in detail:

“For those who never heard, the judgment considers several factors:
First, their response to general revelation – what they did with the knowledge of God available through creation.
Second, their response to the moral law written on their hearts – conscience.
Third, their treatment of others and their pursuit of truth with the light they had.
Fourth, any special revelation God may have given them in ways we don’t understand.”

“For those who turned away from the faith, the judgment considers:
Their full knowledge of the truth they rejected.
The depth of their experience with God before turning away.
The impact of their apostasy on others.
The deliberate nature of their rejection.
The hardening of their hearts against the Holy Spirit.”

Luke absorbed this, then asked, “And how should we respond to these truths?”

Paul’s answer was pastoral and practical: “For those who have never heard, we should be motivated to greater missionary effort, knowing that while God will judge them fairly, He has chosen to work through us to bring them the full revelation of Christ.”

“For those who have turned away, we should maintain both sorrow and hope – sorrow at their current state, hope that while they live, they might return. We should warn them of the severity of judgment they face while always leaving the door open for repentance.”

“And for ourselves?”

“We should be humbled by the grace we’ve received in knowing Christ, faithful in sharing this truth with others, and diligent to persevere in faith, knowing that to whom much is given, much will be required.”

The night had grown very late, but Luke had one final question: “Paul, how do you maintain hope when thinking about these different judgments?”

Paul’s response was filled with both gravity and grace: “I remember that the One who judges is also the One who died to save. His judgment, while perfectly just, flows from a heart that desires all to come to repentance. Even in judgment, His character remains unchanging – He is both just and the justifier of those who have faith.”

“The judgment seat, in all its forms, reveals both the severity and the kindness of God. Severity toward those who reject His truth, kindness toward those who seek Him with the light they have, and perfect justice calibrated to each person’s knowledge and opportunity.”

Luke began gathering his scrolls, his mind full of these weighty truths. “These are hard teachings, Paul.”

“Yes,” the apostle agreed, “but necessary ones. They remind us of the seriousness of our mission and the perfect justice of our God. They should move us to both gratitude and action – gratitude for the light we’ve received, action to share it with others.”

As Luke prepared to leave, Paul added one final thought: “Remember, dear physician, that while we must understand these different judgments, our primary task is to proclaim Christ so that as many as possible might face the bema judgment of believers rather than the more severe judgments we’ve discussed.”

The stars shone brightly over Rome as Luke made his way home, his heart heavy with the weight of these truths yet anchored in the certainty of God’s perfect justice and mercy. He understood better now why Paul was so urgent in his mission, so passionate in his preaching, so careful in his warnings about turning away from the faith.

The judgment seat, in all its various forms, stood as a testimony to God’s perfect wisdom – treating each soul with precise justice according to the light they had received, while always providing a way for mercy through Christ. It was a truth that would shape Luke’s own ministry in the years to come, influencing how he documented the gospel message and how he approached both those who had never heard and those who had turned away.

As the night deepened over the eternal city, both men continued their reflections – Paul returning to his letters, Luke to his historical accounts – each more convinced than ever of the urgent need to proclaim Christ while there was still time, knowing that at the judgment seat, every soul would face the perfect justice of a God who is both utterly holy and infinitely wise.

Their conversation had illuminated the complex interplay of justice and mercy, knowledge and responsibility, judgment and grace. It stood as a testament to the profound wisdom of God’s plan, where each soul would be judged with perfect fairness according to the light they had received, yet all would be offered the possibility of mercy through Christ while they lived.

The weight of these truths would continue to drive their ministries forward, knowing that the judgment seat awaited all – believers, unbelievers, and those who had turned away – each facing a perfectly calibrated evaluation from the One who knows all hearts and judges with perfect justice and wisdom.