A Golden Sentence

John 6:28–29

Then they asked him, “What must we do to do the works God requires?” 

Jesus answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.”

It is a great joy in the study of literature or history to discover a saying that seems to sum up a whole personality or a movement. Caesar supplied us with one of these sayings in his often quoted report on a military encounter in Gaul: “Veni, vidi, vici” (I came, I saw, I conquered). Winston Churchill did the same in England during the years of World War II. Who can forget his offer to the British people shortly after war had been declared against Germany? He said that he had not come to offer England an easy time or an easy victory but, rather, “Blood, toil, sweat and tears.” Later, after Hitler had failed to break the English spirit through the bombing of London, Churchill joked about Hitler’s promise to wring England’s neck as if she were a chicken. “Some chicken,” said Churchill. Then, after thunderous applause, “Some neck!”

Sentences like these are golden sentences, for they vividly capture a personality, a theme, or a spirited moment of world history. In another sense, however, even such striking statements seem less than totally gripping when placed alongside the truly golden sentences of the Word of God.

What are these sentences? You can think of many of them. John 3:16—“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” Philippians 4:19—“And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus” Psalm 23:1—“The Lord is my shepherd.” I believe that our text, found in the sixth chapter of John, verse 29, is another. The crowd that had witnessed the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fish had crossed the Sea of Galilee to find Jesus in Capernaum and had asked him, “What must we do to do the works God requires?” It was a question that many people are asking. It was even a great question, though the answer was greater. Jesus replied in words that every human being on the earth should hear, read, and memorize: “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.”

Faith or Works

In some ways it is almost unbelievable that the crowd should have asked this question in view of what Jesus had been telling them. He had said, “Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you” (v. 27). Jesus had been speaking of a gift, but they had not grasped his meaning. Instead, they replied as the natural human mind, which is against God, always does; they replied that they wanted to do something to earn it.

It is always thus. Arthur W. Pink notes in his commentary: “It was thus with the woman at the well: until divine grace completed its work within her, she knew not the ‘gift of God’ (John 4:10). It was the same with the rich young ruler: ‘Good Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?’ (Luke 18:18). It was the same with the stricken Jews on the Day of Pentecost: ‘Men and brethren, what shall we do?’ (Acts 2:37). It was the same with the Philippian jailer: ‘Sirs, what must I do to be saved?’ (Acts 16:30). So it was with the prodigal son—‘Make me as one of thy hired servants’ (one who works for what he receives) was his thought (Luke 15:19).” None of those involved in these illustrations knew precisely what they must do or thought they must do, but they were certain that they had to do something.

The human mind is always flattered when it is conscious of doing something for God. What is more, for his doings man considers himself entitled to a reward. How pleased we should all be if we could only earn salvation! In that case we would have succeeded in bringing God into the humbling position of being in debt to us, and we would love it. But this is not the way of salvation.

What is the way? Jesus shows the way in our sentence: “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.” It is not what we can do for God but rather what God has already done for us. All that is required of us is that we believe it. The Philippian jailer had asked Paul, “What must I do to be saved?” It was the question of the crowd that had sought Jesus. Paul answered just as Jesus had done before him: “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved” (Acts 16:31). Jesus is the One whom God has sent into the world to meet our deepest need. “The work of God” is to “believe” on him. What God requires of us is that we give up trying to please him by our own efforts and instead commit ourselves into the hands of our Savior.

Human Works

The burden of this study must obviously be upon what it means to commit oneself into the hands of the Savior. But before dealing with that it is necessary to deal just a bit further with the matter of human works, for it is these much more than the Savior that men would like to trust.

To begin with, someone might well ask the question, “But is it possible to enter heaven without good works?” The answer to the question is no. You cannot enter heaven without good character. But since we are talking about good works or character we must go on to the next question and ask, “But how good must that character be?” The answer is that your works must be without flaw. They must be perfect; you must be perfect. Clearly, nothing less than perfection could satisfy God. But do you have perfect character? Of course not! No one is perfect. Then, where can you get it? The answer is: Only from God. God offers you the perfect character of the Lord Jesus Christ. This will stand to your account just as the money of a rich man would stand to your account were it deposited in your account in your bank. Moreover, God will credit your sins to Jesus, who has died for them. God asks that you believe this, that you accept what Jesus has done.

What are you trusting rather than the Lord Jesus Christ? Is it rites and ceremonies? Some people think that their baptism will save them. But these are signs of what God has already done, not means of salvation. Baptize the devil, if you will, but his end will still be the lake of fire. Some people trust their humanitarian efforts. They give to the United Fund. They help the poor. But these things, while good in themselves, will not satisfy the righteous demands of a holy God in the day of his judgment. Then, what must you do? The answer is that you must do nothing—you can do nothing—except believe on the Lord Jesus.

I realize that no one will ever abandon his or her own attempts at righteousness until convinced that all human efforts are worthless. All must see that they fall short of God’s perfect demands. On the other hand, when the worthlessness of human works in the area of satisfying God is revealed to a person by the Holy Spirit, then, I am convinced, he can lay hold on the Lord Jesus Christ in joy for his salvation.

“Put that on My Account”

I am now going to return to what it means to believe on the Lord Jesus. But I am going to do so by means of a story. It is a story from one of the short books of the Bible—Philemon.

Philemon was a rich man who lived in the city of Colosse. We know that he was rich because it was in his house that the Christians of Colosse were meeting. Besides, he had at least one slave (and probably more). Philemon had been converted through the ministry of Paul, though probably not at Colosse, since there are verses in Paul’s letter to the Colossians that indicate that he had never been there. Since Paul had worked for a long time at Ephesus, and Colosse was nearby, it may be that Philemon had met Paul in Ephesus while he was on a business trip. Whatever the case, Philemon returned to Colosse as a Christian.

Time passed, and the day came when one of Philemon’s slaves, a man named Onesimus, ran away. There is no evidence that Philemon pursued Onesimus. But this was still a serious matter. The law had been broken. And the law in the matter of a runaway slave (if accused by his master) proscribed death. Moreover, we know from Paul’s letter that Onesimus had robbed Philemon before going. On these funds he probably made his way the great distance from Colosse to Rome.

We are told nothing about Onesimus’s life in Rome, but few people would doubt that he had a good time, enjoying life to the full. He probably was something like the prodigal son who, we are told, “squandered his wealth on wild living.” Onesimus probably did not have a thought for God. He had rejected that when he had turned his back on Philemon. But God had his eye on Onesimus and eventually brought him into contact with Paul, the very man through whom his master had been converted. How did he meet Paul? We do not know. Paul was in prison, so perhaps Onesimus had been arrested and met Paul in prison. God uses rough ways at times in dealing with those who run from him. But whatever the means, Onesimus met Paul and was converted.

After Onesimus’s conversion we can be sure that Paul continued to instruct him in the faith. So I can imagine the day when, under the conviction of the Holy Spirit and in the light of the Word, Onesimus unburdened his conscience. “I need your advice, Paul,” he might have said. Then the story came out—the theft, the flight, the loose living, the fear of capture, and now the seemingly impossible task of making right a great wrong. “I feel I ought to go back in accordance with the law and make right what I have done wrong. But I have no money to repay the loss. And returning might even mean my arrest and execution. What should I do?”

Paul replied—in what is surely one of the great examples of the love of Christ within the life of a redeemed sinner—that he would become surety for Onesimus. He would permit Philemon to charge any debt that Onesimus might have incurred to his own account. Moreover, he would write a letter to Philemon that would plead Onesimus’s case.

What a picture we have as we imagine Onesimus hurrying back to Colosse with Paul’s letter safely tucked into his belt. We can imagine Philemon standing at the gate of his beautiful Roman villa, looking down the road toward the heart of the city. Suddenly he looks up and exclaims, “Why, I believe I see that thief Onesimus coming! Oh, it couldn’t be he! He wouldn’t have the face to come back here after what he has done! But it does look like him. I’ll wait and see.” Probably Philemon is reasoning that, if it is Onesimus, it is because the money he stole is all gone and he is going to beg for pardon.

“Master! Master!” Onesimus cries.

“Well, it is Onesimus after all,” says Philemon. “I’m surprised that you have the face to be seen around here again.”

“Just read this,” says Onesimus. He refuses to utter a word in his own behalf.

Philemon takes the letter, breaks the seal, opens the pages, and then slowly begins to read—Paul, a prisoner of Jesus Christ. “Why, this is from Paul!” says Philemon. “Have you seen him, Onesimus?” he asks eagerly of the returning slave.

“Yes, master, in Rome. It was in prison. He led me to Christ.”

Philemon reads on—and Timothy our brother, to Philemon, our dear friend and fellow worker. … “How like Paul,” he was thinking. And to Apphia our sister. “Come here, Apphia,” Philemon must have called to his wife. “Here is a letter from Paul, from Rome. It seems that he is in prison.”

Mrs. Philemon comes running and almost bumps into Onesimus. “Are you back?” she says in some surprise.

“Yes,” says her husband, “but don’t worry about that now. Onesimus has brought a letter from Paul, and first of all we must read it.” Therefore, although in Christ I could be bold and order you to do what you ought to do, yet I appeal to you on the basis of love. I then, as Paul—an old man and now also a prisoner of Christ Jesus—I appeal to you for my son Onesimus, who became my son while I was in chains. “He means he was converted,” Philemon must have thought. “But I wonder. He would not be the first slave to try to put it over on someone by using religion.”

Formerly he was useless to you. “That’s an understatement, if ever I heard one.”

But now he has become useful both to you and to me. “Perhaps!”

I am sending him … back to you.

“Well,” Philemon must have thought as he read through the letter, “Paul is certainly impressed with Onesimus, but I can hardly see how Onesimus could expect me to be. Not a word here about the robbery! Nothing about the wrongs that he did to me! Paul may believe that he is a Christian, but I will not believe it until the theft is out in the open and Onesimus admits his wrongdoing.”

Philemon gets to the end of the letter, however, and there he finds this: If he has done you any wrong or owes you anything, charge it to me. I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand. I will pay it back—not to mention that you owe me your very self. I suppose that in that moment, Philemon’s heart was conquered. He knew what Paul was saying. What is more, he knew that Onesimus had confessed his sin and had returned on Paul’s recommendation and with confidence in Paul and in his relationship to Philemon. Paul was becoming surety for Onesimus. Although old and in prison, Paul was offering to pay. Onesimus had trusted him. Who can doubt that at this point Philemon freely forgave Onesimus and received him as he would have received Paul?

A Pageant

The connection between this story, the failure of human works, and the need to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ for salvation is obvious. This is a pageant, if we may so understand it. Philemon is playing the part of God the Father. Paul is Jesus Christ. You and I are Onesimus. What have we done? We have wronged God. We have stolen from him that which is rightly his—honor, worship, glory, obedience—and we have run from him in order to sin our fill. There is no chance of our ever being able to make up that which we owe, and beyond that there is the whole matter of forgiveness and of the good will of the Father.

What shall we do? Shall we trust to good works, moral reformation, ceremonies? None of these things will do. Instead we come to Christ and find him interceding on our behalf. “Father,” he says, “this runaway slave has wronged you. He owes what he can never repay. But he believes in me. He has been changed. Therefore, I ask that you charge all that he has done to my account.”

Do you see that great picture of salvation? Will you come to God on the basis of that great offer of the Lord Jesus Christ? You can run farther, if you will. You can try to escape the consequences of your sin, if you wish—though you will not succeed. Or you can accept the work of the Lord Jesus Christ on your behalf and trust in him as your surety. If you look to yourself you may well tremble. But as you look to Jesus you will hear that still, quiet voice of the Holy Spirit that speaks comforting words on your behalf:

Arise, my soul, arise! Shake off thy guilty fears;

The bleeding sacrifice in my behalf appears:

Before the throne my Surety stands—

My name is written on his hands.

On this basis no charge shall ever be raised against you. And you will know that the true work of God is done when you believe on Jesus.

 Boice, J. M. (2005). The Gospel of John: an expositional commentary (pp. 469–474). Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books.