Is that even possible?

RICK WHITE

OCT 05, 2025

Hebrews 10:19–22

19 Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus,

20 by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body,

21 and since we have a great priest over the house of God,

22 let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.

Recently, a family member I’ve known for over 40 years—someone I’ve attended church and Bible study with—was asked, “How does one get to heaven?”

His response stunned me. He held up a Bible and said, “You go to heaven by reading the Bible and then doing everything in it.”

I don’t think there could be a clearer expression of works-based salvation. Sadly, I also believe that—at least subconsciously—many Christians live as though that statement were true. They are confused.

Works-based salvation isn’t just a minor wrinkle in one’s doctrine. It’s the undoing of the Gospel itself. And it often shows up in subtle phrases and well-meaning advice from people who should know better.

One example is the phrase, “I try to keep short accounts with God.” 

That statement actually denies the Gospel, because the Gospel says our account with God was paid in full at the cross. Was it? Or are you still trying to settle your account with Him?

Two Ways to Live

As a Christian, you live in one of two states: you either have assurance of salvation—or you don’t. So how can you have that assurance?

The answer lies in knowing the Word of God—not just the letter of it, as my family member demonstrated, but the truth of it. You must understand what Scripture teaches about the assurance of salvation.

Hebrews 10 tells us we should have the “full assurance that faith brings.”

Faith—a gift from God (Ephesians 2:8–9)—is meant to bring full assurance.

Paul reinforces this in Colossians:

“But you must continue to believe this truth and stand firmly in it. Don’t drift away from the assurance you received when you heard the Good News. The Good News has been preached all over the world, and I, Paul, have been appointed as God’s servant to proclaim it.”

Colossians 1:23

Did you catch that? Paul says there’s an “assurance you received when you heard the Good News.”

When you were saved, didn’t you know—at that moment—that you were going to heaven? For a time at least, didn’t you believe you stood clean before God because of what Jesus accomplished? Paul warns us not to drift away from that initial assurance.

If you never had that assurance when you first believed, perhaps the “gospel” you heard was no gospel at all. If you doubted your salvation from the very beginning, it may be because human works were mixed into the message you accepted.

Don’t misunderstand me—doubts come to all of us. But Scripture clearly says that assurance accompanies true belief. If that wasn’t your experience, you may have entered into a kind of deal with God: you do your part, He does His.

But God will have no part in such a deal. The best you can offer is “filthy rags” (Isaiah 64:6) compared to the perfect work of Christ.

Our salvation—and its permanence—rests entirely on what Christ did.

Not one iota of it depends on our deeds.

What About “Clinging to God”?

Some people argue, “We must keep clinging to God or we’ll lose our salvation.”

I actually heard that again just last night. But Scripture corrects this idea plainly:

“If we are unfaithful, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny who He is.”

— 2 Timothy 2:13

That verse teaches that even when we fail to cling to Him, He clings to us.

Jesus said:

“I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand.

My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand.”

— John 10:28–29 

These verses couldn’t be clearer: anyone who receives eternal life from God will never perish. “Never” means never—no act or failure on your part can remove you from the Father’s hand.

Eternal security and assurance are inseparable. The reason you can have assurance of salvation is because salvation, once received, is everlasting. John’s use of the word “never” closes the door on anything less than eternal security. “Never perish” and “eternal security” are synonymous.

And notice—these verses don’t depict someone desperately clinging to God.

They show a believer held in His hand—supported, lifted, and protected.

A Revealing Conversation

In a recent discussion, someone told me they believed in eternal security. But as I pointed out their legalistic interpretations of Scripture, I said, “It sounds like you don’t really believe in eternal security.” My friend replied, “Maybe we can lose our salvation.” Instead of having his false doctrine corrected, he dove deeper into error. Submitting to his false doctrine, he rejected one of the cornerstones of the faith. 

What you believe about this issue colors the rest of your doctrine. When one thinks their works had something to do with salvation, the rest of their Christian experience becomes works-centered. This happens because their foundation is a gospel of works.

Now, I don’t think people who hold that view are necessarily unsaved. Romans makes this clear:

“If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.

For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved.”

— Romans 10:9–10

If you confess Jesus and believe in His resurrection and the salvation He purchased for you, you are saved. But you might be living a miserable Christian life.

You can spend your entire life like my relative—trying to obey every word of Scripture as if your salvation depended on it. I know many Christians like that, and they are exhausted and joyless.

My motivation in writing this, and in having conversations like the one this week, is to help people experience freedom from legalism.

Back to the Gospel

It all comes back to the Gospel.

The Good News isn’t just for new believers—it’s for all of us, every day.

If your life as a veteran Christian isn’t rooted in the gospel of grace apart from works, you’re probably not as joyful and at peace as you could be.

Jesus died for your freedom. The same freedom you felt at the moment of salvation is still yours today. But false doctrine can cloud that truth and drag us back into bondage. We must reject the lie of works-based salvation. Only then can we experience the assurance God wants us to have.

Assurance comes, not from waving your Bible knowledge or obedience at God to prove your worth, but from throwing yourself at the feet of Christ and resting in what He has already done.

Wait – that can’t be right.

RICK WHITE

NOV 09, 2025

“My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” 

Galatians 2:20

Did you know, Christian, that you are dead?

That may sound strange, but it’s exactly what Scripture teaches. A part of us — often called our flesh or sin nature — was crucified on the cross with Jesus. That’s what Paul declares in Galatians 2:20. But what does that actually mean?

How can part of me be dead, and yet I still live?

For many believers, this verse is difficult to grasp. We often read it quickly, assume it’s metaphorical, or quietly move past it because it’s hard to understand. But Paul meant something deeply real and liberating.

“It is no longer I who live…”

What can that mean? We’re clearly alive — breathing, thinking, reasoning. And yet, in a very real sense, Scripture says we have died.

Paul explains this further in Colossians:

“For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.”

Colossians 3:3–4

So what kind of death is this?

Dead to the World’s Systems

Earlier, Colossians gives us even more clarity:

“You have died with Christ, and he has set you free from the spiritual powers of this world. So why do you keep on following the rules of the world, such as, ‘Don’t handle! Don’t taste! Don’t touch!’?… These rules may seem wise because they require strong devotion, pious self-denial, and severe bodily discipline. But they provide no help in conquering a person’s evil desires.”

Colossians 2:20–23

Notice what Paul says here. The “spiritual powers of this world” insist on religious performance — Don’t touch, don’t taste, don’t do this or that. Isn’t that also the main message we often hear in modern, evangelical church? “Be better. Try harder. Choose righteousness.”

But here’s the truth:

You can’t choose righteousness any more than you can choose your natural eye color. Righteousness is not something we manufacture; it’s something God imparts. It’s a gift, not a product of effort or choosing.

So in What Sense Is the Christian Dead?

Every religious system teaches that behavior determines acceptance before God. But Scripture reveals something radically different.

Our flesh — our sin nature — is hopelessly corrupt. It doesn’t improve with time or effort. Trying to make it behave is like trying to teach a corpse to dance. That’s what Paul means when he says our old self was crucified with Christ.

From God’s perspective, our sin nature has already been judged and executed — on the cross. Jesus took the punishment our sin nature deserved.

So, from the standpoint of sin and judgment, we are no longer under condemnation. The part of us that was guilty is now dead in God’s eyes. That is the heart of the gospel.

The Trap of Religion

I recently spoke with someone who struggled to accept this truth. “I’ve never met a Christian who actually lives like that,” he said.

And that’s the tragedy of religion. Religion — in the human sense — is our attempt to earn God’s favor through performance. It keeps people in bondage, always striving but never arriving.

In contrast, the gospel declares:

1. Our acceptance before God has nothing to do with our behavior.
2. It depends entirely on Jesus’ performance, not our own.
3. Our sin nature could never please God — and God never expected it to. It was crucified with Christ and left for dead.

Dead but Free

So what does this mean for us, practically?

You still deal with your sin nature, but it no longer determines your standing with God. Your salvation isn’t threatened by your failures.

Your future sinful behavior cannot undo what Jesus has already finished. From heaven’s perspective, that old self is dead and out of the equation.

When you finally stand before Jesus, your sin nature will be left behind — like a filthy set of clothes you’ll never wear again.

Your flesh may still trouble you, but it cannot condemn you. It was crucified with Jesus, and that death is permanent.

In Summary

To be “crucified with Christ” means that the self that once stood guilty before God has already been judged and executed at the cross. The life we now live is not sustained by our striving but by faith in the Son of God, who loved us and gave Himself for us.

Our old nature is dead.

Christ lives in us.

And that changes everything.

That means a zero balance.

RICK WHITE

DEC 12, 2025

Today marks my forty-third birthday as a Christian.

On December 12, 1982, I walked into a very unusual church—a place I would not attend today. It was full of bad doctrine and circus-like behavior. Yet in the middle of all that chaos, the preacher asked a question that cut straight through the noise and struck my heart:

“If Jesus paid for your sins on the cross, what is left for you to pay?”

I had attended a religious high school, been active in its church, and even studied the Bible. But somehow, this was the first time I truly heard the gospel.

So what is that gospel?

It is this: salvation is a gift from God.

Ephesians 2:8–9 says,

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

Grace is God’s undeserved kindness. And even the faith we exercise does not come from ourselves. It doesn’t come from our efforts or good deeds. The Bible uses the word gift—and we all know what a gift is. If you have to earn it or pay it back, it was never a gift at all.

Religion—in the negative sense—is about what you must do to deserve heaven: go to confession, try to outweigh your bad deeds with good ones, or even make extreme sacrifices. Whatever the requirement, it’s still a work. Yet this verse, and many others, declare that salvation is a gift from God apart from our works.

That message changed my life forty-three years ago.

Since then, I have seen God’s hand in my life in more ways than I can count. I have walked with Him as someone fully loved, completely accepted, and totally forgiven—not because of my work but because of Jesus’ finished work on the cross.

This is the gospel I believe.

This is the gospel I have preached and taught for all these years.

And through all of it, God has been faithful to His word.

I am no better than anyone else. Like the Apostle Paul, I could call myself the chief of sinners. It was never about my behavior. It has always been about God’s costly, undeserved love for me.

So I ask you the same question that confronted me four decades ago:

If Jesus paid for your sins on the cross—where He declared, “It is finished”—what is left for you to pay?

Was He telling the truth? The Greek word He used, tetelestai, was an accounting term meaning paid in full.

Your task is to decide whose work you will trust for your salvation—your own, or Jesus’. If you trust Him, you will never be lost again. You will belong to Him forever, an eternally secure citizen of heaven.

This is the gospel I accepted forty-three years ago today. If this offends you, simply move on. But I must declare the truth that changed my life, and I pray it will change yours as well.

Lenny and My Foot

RICK WHITE

MAR 11, 2026

I know—it’s a strange title. It almost sounds like “Benny and the Jets.” But I digress…

For a long time, I’ve been deeply moved by the biblical idea of foot-washing. I actually wrote another post about it here. I still remember the first time it touched me—and it really did touch me.

I was in Catholic high school, probably sixteen or seventeen. I had a deep interest in God, even though I had not yet fully understood or accepted the gospel.

I was a co-leader of a program called Rejoice. It was a weekend retreat for kids my age where we tried to learn more about God and grow closer to Him. While planning one of those weekends, someone suggested including a foot-washing ceremony. These were called Koinonia services.

When that moment arrived, about twenty of us stood in a circle along with our priest sponsor, Father Frank Hudson—“Fud,” as we called him. I had come to know Fud through other retreats. He helped guide us and oversaw the planning of that weekend. I loved Fud. As we stood in the circle, he happened to be right next to me.

A basin was passed from one person to the next, and each person washed the feet of the person beside them.

I was near the end of the circle. As I watched, I could see how deeply people were being moved by what was happening. But somehow it didn’t occur to me that Fud would be the one washing my feet.

When the moment came, I completely lost it.

There were tears. I respected Fud so much. It just didn’t seem right that he would wash my feet. In that moment, I was experiencing something like what Peter must have felt when Jesus knelt to wash his.

To be honest, that Scripture wasn’t even in my mind at the time. The moment simply happened, and God ministered to my heart that night.

Now fast-forward more than forty years.

Today I have three grandchildren. Lenny is the middle one. She’ll be three years old in about a week. Lenny has a huge heart. She loves in a big way.

A few days ago we were playing on the couch. I was wrestling with her and tickling her, and we were both having the time of our lives. Then she wandered off for a few seconds. I didn’t think much about it.

But she came back holding a baby wipe.

She sat down and started wiping my foot.

“Grandpa, your foot is so dirty,” she said.

I was stunned. Speechless.

Before I could even process what was happening, a large lump formed in my throat. It felt like the world stopped for a moment and God was speaking again.

Jesus once said, “Let the little children come to me, for of such is the kingdom.” We often draw many conclusions from that verse, but I believe one of the central ideas is humility. Children are lowly and humble. In Jesus’ day they were often kept out of the way, especially when something important was happening. That was exactly the situation when Jesus spoke those words.

And in many ways, we still treat children like that.

But that day God pierced my heart again.

At sixty-three years old, I was experiencing the same profound truth that I had felt as a teenager. The feeling was exactly the same.

Fud shouldn’t have washed my feet. That didn’t seem right.

And Lenny shouldn’t be washing Grandpa’s feet.

Jesus showed us what love looks like in so many of His actions. When He took off His outer garment, wrapped Himself in a towel, and washed the feet of His disciples, He showed a kind of love that transforms hearts.

He transformed Peter’s heart that day.

He transformed mine through Fud all those years ago.

And the God of the universe stooped down once again—this time through sweet little Lenny—to melt my heart.

I’ll never forget it.