Tom Schreiner concludes his series by showing that justification by faith is not merely a legal doctrine—it profoundly shapes the Christian life. He outlines five pastoral benefits flowing from being declared righteous in Christ.

1. Justification produces praise.
Because salvation rests entirely on God’s grace—not human achievement—believers respond with joy, gratitude, and worship. Understanding our “wretchedness” deepens amazement at God’s mercy and fuels genuine, heart-level praise.

2. Justification brings assurance.
Since righteousness is imputed to us through Christ and not grounded in our works, we may know we have eternal life. This frees us from fear that we have not done “enough,” and roots our confidence in Christ’s finished work. Schreiner recalls Luther, Wesley, and Machen, who found comfort—even in death—in Christ’s righteousness.

3. Justification removes guilt.
Feelings of guilt and shame can paralyze believers, but the gospel declares there is “no condemnation for those in Christ.” Christ’s advocacy and sacrifice silence the accusations of conscience and Satan, restoring peace and stability.

4. Justification makes us realistic.
We are righteous in Christ yet still sinners. This “already/not-yet” tension keeps us humble and dependent on grace while recognizing real, ongoing growth.

5. Justification unleashes love.
Faith works through love. Freed from earning God’s favor, believers express gratitude through obedience, sacrificial love, and transformed living.

Tom Schreiner argues that the New Testament consistently teaches that Christians must persevere in faith to be finally saved. Contrary to some evangelistic clichés (“You’re saved no matter what you do now”), Scripture never assures converts this way. Instead, early Christian leaders—Barnabas, Paul, Peter, Jude—regularly exhorted believers to continue, stand firm, keep themselves in God’s love, and remain in the faith.

Schreiner surveys warnings throughout the New Testament: Jesus warns that only those who endure to the end will be saved; Paul warns the Galatians that receiving circumcision means being “severed from Christ”; Romans 11 warns Gentiles they will be “cut off” if they do not continue in God’s kindness; Hebrews repeatedly warns that falling away leads to judgment. These warnings are real, serious, and addressed to believers about salvation—not merely rewards.

Yet perseverance is not perfection and not works-righteousness. Christians still sin, struggle with desires, and grow gradually. Perseverance flows from faith and is empowered by the Spirit, not by human merit.

Schreiner’s key thesis: God preserves His elect by means of warnings. The warnings do not imply the elect may finally perish; instead, God uses them as instruments to keep His people trusting Christ to the end. The warnings call not to introspection but to ongoing faith and obedience.

Dr. Tom Schreiner argues that justification is central to the Christian gospel and historically was the key point separating Protestants and Roman Catholics. The Reformers saw justification as the doctrine on which the church stands or falls. Though recent ecumenical statements (like Evangelicals and Catholics Together and the Joint Declaration on Justification) sought unity, their definitions often blur classic Protestant convictions.

Schreiner defends the historic Reformation view: justification is forensic—God’s legal declaration that sinners are righteous because of Christ’s obedience and atoning death, received by faith alone. It is not a process of becoming righteous but an accomplished verdict grounded entirely in Christ, not in anything we contribute.

He critiques both Roman Catholic theology and modern trends such as the New Perspective on Paul (Sanders, Dunn, Wright). These reinterpret “works of the law” as ethnic boundary markers rather than moral requirements and shift justification toward ecclesiology (who belongs to the covenant community) rather than salvation. Schreiner argues instead that Paul’s concern is universal sin, moral failure, and humanity’s inability to keep God’s law.

Biblical evidence—from Deut. 25, Psalms, Job, Romans, and Galatians—shows justification language consistently refers to courtroom declaration. Schreiner affirms imputation: Christ becomes sin for us so that His righteousness becomes ours through union with Him. Good works, while necessary as evidence, never form the basis of justification.

Eric Ortlund argues that the Book of Job addresses a specific kind of suffering: a Job-like ordeal—extreme, inexplicable, and not caused by sin or intended for spiritual growth. Job suffers not because he is guilty, but because God allows his integrity to be tested before the accuser. The central question is: Will humans love God for God’s sake, even when all earthly blessings are stripped away?

Throughout the dialogues, Job and his friends misinterpret God. The friends assume Job must have sinned; Job assumes God has turned against him. Both are wrong. Unbeknownst to Job, God is actually proud of him and is using this ordeal to deepen Job’s capacity to know Him.

When God finally speaks “from the storm,” He does not humiliate Job but gently shows him two truths:

(1) Job cannot interpret the world rightly based on his limited perspective, and
(2) creation, though containing real chaos and danger, is upheld by God with joy, order, and care.

The climax is God’s description of Leviathan, not as a crocodile but as a symbol of supernatural evil—the true enemy. God reveals that He, not Job, will defeat this cosmic evil. Job realizes God was never his adversary but his defender, and he responds in humble worship: “Now my eye sees you.”

Ortlund concludes that Job points ahead to the cross, where God ultimately defeats the true Leviathan—Satan—on behalf of His suffering people.

Jim Hamilton argues that the Book of Psalms is not a random anthology, but a carefully arranged, unified book that tells a coherent, biblical-theological story from David to the Messiah and the salvation of the world. Like the narrative paintings of the Sistine Chapel, the Psalter has been intentionally shaped—originating with David, expanded by those who understood his vision, and finalized in a canonical form that reflects one storyline.

Hamilton maintains that the superscriptions are original and reliable, noting that Chronicles treats them as authentic. Books 1–2 focus overwhelmingly on David’s life and kingship. Book 3 reflects the crisis of the monarchy and the devastation of exile, climaxing in Psalm 89’s lament that seems to question God’s promise to David. Book 4 begins with Moses (Psalm 90), intentionally recalling earlier intercession and anchoring hope in God’s character and covenant faithfulness. Book 5 moves toward restoration, climaxing in Psalm 110’s messianic king-priest, followed by hallelujah psalms and the king’s triumphant arrival (Psalm 118), the law shaping God’s people (Psalm 119), and the nations streaming to Zion (Psalms 120–134).

The Psalter ultimately anticipates the Messiah’s victory, the gathering of God’s people, and the praise of all creation (Psalms 146–150). Hamilton concludes that reading the Psalms as a unified book deepens our understanding of Scripture, shapes our worldview, and forms Christlike worshippers.

Kevin McKay reflects on how biblical theology has transformed his preaching and pastoring. Early in ministry, though he believed in the power of preaching, his sermons were often information-heavy and unclear—like “a mother bird regurgitating” facts from commentaries. What he lacked was a grasp of how the whole Bible fits together. Learning biblical theology changed everything: it gave power both to his preparation and his preaching.

In preparation, biblical theology acts like “jumper cables.” It helps him quickly locate a passage within the Bible’s storyline, uncover hidden details, find the author’s main point, and build excitement for difficult texts. It also gives him confidence to preach books he once avoided—Song of Songs, Hebrews, and even Leviticus—because he now expects rich connections to Christ. Biblical theology sustains his soul by continually showing him that Scripture is one unified story written by God, always leading him back to the gospel.

In preaching, biblical theology helps his people see Jesus everywhere, follow the author’s true intent, and hear applications with theological depth. It keeps sermons from becoming moralistic and ensures that God—not the preacher—takes center stage. Ultimately, biblical theology empowers both preacher and congregation by magnifying Christ in all of Scripture.

Matthias Lohmann shows from 1 Corinthians 10 that the Old Testament was written for us—for the instruction, warning, and perseverance of Christians today. Paul recounts five profound experiences of Israel during the Exodus: the cloud, the Red Sea, baptism into Moses, spiritual food, and water from the rock. These were genuine blessings, even typological anticipations of Christ, yet “with most of them God was not pleased.” Their privileges did not guarantee salvation.

Paul then cites four Old Testament warnings—idolatry (Golden Calf), sexual immorality (Numbers 25), testing the Lord (Numbers 21), and grumbling (Numbers 16). In each case, severe judgment followed. Lohmann emphasizes Paul’s point: learn from Israel’s failures, lest we repeat them. External experiences like baptism, the Lord’s Supper, or past spiritual highs cannot replace present, persevering faith.

Verse 11 becomes Lohmann’s central claim: the Old Testament was written for us, for believers “on whom the end of the ages has come.” He highlights multiple ways OT texts point to Christ—types, contrasts, themes, promises, law, and redemptive-historical progression.

The passage ends with profound encouragement: God is faithful. He sustains His people, provides escape from temptation, and will complete His saving work. Thus Christians both fear self-reliance and rest in God’s preserving grace, persevering in faith until the end.

Derek Bass opens by explaining why he has long preached Psalm 137: it is one of Scripture’s hardest texts, especially the violent final verse. Many reject the God of the Bible because of passages like this, but Bass insists that psalmic judgment must be understood in context, within the whole canon and ultimately in light of Christ.

Psalm 137 is a communal lament from Israel’s exile. The people sit by Babylon’s rivers, weeping for Jerusalem, mocked by captors who demand Zion songs as a taunt. Their pain is real—Jerusalem and the temple lie in ruins—but the psalm calls them not to despair. Instead of silencing their harps, they must remember and sing of Jerusalem, not in nostalgia but in faith: Jerusalem is the city where God dwells, and its ultimate form is the new Jerusalem of Isaiah and Revelation. The psalmist commands his own soul to exalt God’s promised city above all joys.

Verses 7–9, including the imprecation about Babylon’s infants, are not personal vengeance but a plea for God to keep His promises to judge wicked nations. Bass shows how the prophets foretold Babylon’s doom and how judgment is always the pathway to salvation. Ultimately, all divine wrath converges on the cup Jesus drank in Gethsemane. Christ takes judgment on Himself so His people drink the “cup of blessing.”

Thus Christians read Psalm 137 longing for Christ’s return—knowing His coming brings both salvation and judgment. This longing should fuel bold, compassionate evangelism as we live in exile, setting the new Jerusalem above our highest joy.