Most people I talk to in my church carry a quiet, heavy fear. They know they were saved by grace years ago, but they look at their current life—the same old temper, the wandering thoughts during prayer, the slow pace of change—and they worry they are about to run out of credit. We have this subconscious idea that Jesus gets us through the front door, but after that, it is up to us to keep the house clean enough for Him to stay. We treat salvation like a joint venture where Jesus does the heavy lifting at the start, and we do the maintenance. This curiosity about whether we have “enough” grace to make it to the end is exactly what John Bunyan addresses in his book, Christ A Complete Saviour.

As a pastor who holds to the Westminster Standards, I find that we often get the “priestly office” of Christ halfway right. We talk a lot about the cross, but we forget the other half of the job: His intercession. Bunyan, who spent plenty of time in a jail cell thinking about what keeps a soul steady, argues that if you only look at the cross, you are only seeing half of the story. If you feel like your grip on God is slipping, you need to realize that your safety doesn’t lie in your ability to hold on, but in Christ’s ability to speak for you right now.

The Blacksmith and the Unweldable Heart

Bunyan was the son of a blacksmith, and he uses that background to describe a problem every layperson understands. He calls the human heart “unweldable.” If you have ever seen a smith try to join two pieces of iron, you know they have to be white-hot to stick. Bunyan argues that our pride acts like dross that keeps us from being joined to Christ. We don’t want a “complete” savior; we want a partial one. We want to believe we can contribute at least a few pennies to our own ransom.

This is a startling takeaway because it shows that our biggest hurdle isn’t just our “bad” sins, but our “good” pride. We reject a savior who does everything because that would mean admitting we are utterly undone. Bunyan shows that until the “hammer of conviction” beats us into a state of total necessity, we will keep trying to fix ourselves. Real faith only begins when you realize you are hanging by a “brittle thread” over a gulf, and you finally stop trying to climb the thread and just let the Savior catch you.

“The pride of human nature will not suffer it to fall, as helpless and utterly undone, into the arms of Divine mercy. Man prefers a partial Saviour; one who had done so much, that, with the sinner’s aid, the work might be completed.”

Why Good People Still Need a Lawyer

One of the most impactful parts of this book is how Bunyan explains why justified people still need an intercessor. If we are already “made right” by the blood of Christ, why does He need to keep praying for us in heaven? This is where many Christians get confused. They think once they are justified, the legal work is done. But Bunyan points out that we are still “liable to pollution” as we walk through this world.

He argues that justification stands right alongside our imperfection. Being a Christian doesn’t mean you stop having sinful inclinations; it means you have someone at the right hand of the Father who takes your messy, “dung-smeared” duties and rinses them in His own blood before presenting them to God. This takes the pressure off your performance. You aren’t being kept in God’s family because you had a great week of devotions; you are being kept because your Intercessor never has a bad day. He is the “finishing work” of your salvation.

“Are they that are justified by Christ’s blood such as have need yet to be saved by his intercession? Then from hence it follows that justification will stand with imperfection. It doth not therefore follow that a justified man is without infirmity.”

Reaching the Very Back of the Line

Bunyan’s reflection on the word “uttermost” is something every backslider needs to hear. We usually think “uttermost” refers to Christ’s power, but Bunyan says it refers to our necessity. He looks at the people who are the furthest away—the “town sinner” and the “great backslider.” These are the people who feel like they are at the very end of the line, almost out of sight of the gate.

This is a vital point for the laity to understand. You might think you have wandered too far or stayed away too long for the Gospel to apply to you. But Bunyan argues that Christ’s job is specifically to save the “hindermost.” If the sun can reach the furthest planet in the system, Christ can reach the soul that thinks it has drifted into deep space. He is glorified in saving the “uttermost” man and the “uttermost” sin. It is His name and His honor that are on the line, which means He has a personal stake in not letting you go.

“He is able to save to the uttermost, to the very hindermost, them that come to God by him. . . He therefore counts it an honour to be a great Saviour, to save men to the uttermost.”

The Grave as a Final Cleaning Service

Finally, Bunyan changes how we look at death. For the person who doesn’t know Christ, death is a “bailiff” coming to arrest a debtor. It is a terrifying, sudden seizure. But for the saint, Bunyan uses a beautiful image: the grave is simply the “parting place” between grace and sin.

This is a deep comfort for those of us who feel the constant tug-of-war between our desire to be holy and our natural pull toward sin. We often feel like we will never be rid of our flaws. Bunyan shows that while inherent grace weakens the “filth” of sin now, the grave is where the “being of sin” is finally dropped. It isn’t that the dirt of the grave has magic powers, but that God uses that moment to follow us home and finally strip away the last of our corruption so we can shine like the sun.

“With the saints, the grave’s mouth is the final parting place between grace and sin. . . God will follow Satan home to his own door; and will there, where the devil thought to have swallowed us up, even there by the power of his mercy make us… shine like the sun.”

Why You Should Spend Time With This Book

You should read Christ A Complete Saviour because it will fix your “looking unto Jesus.” We see Him in His sorrows and His blood, which is good for our justification, but we forget to follow Him through the veil. This book forces you to look up and see Him in His priestly robes, wearing your name on His breastplate right now.