THE moral law may be considered, either as a Covenant of works, or as a Rule of conduct. In the latter views it is unchangeable as that relation between God and man on which it is founded; and, therefore, never to be disregarded, as I shall endeavour to show in its proper place. As a Covenant of Works, it is to be considered, not only as prescribing duty, but as promising a reward, on condition of perfect obedience, and as guarded by a penal sanction, denouncing eternal death against every offender, Now, it is to the law thus considered, that the apostle says, I am DEAD.
When a person is described as dead to the law, it is implied, that he was once alive to it–that his former hopes of justification and life by it are now extinct–and that, as a Covenant, it ceases to have any further demands upon him, or to denounce any threatenings against him. We shall make the first of these particulars the subject of our inquiry; in the present Section.
When the apostle says, I am DEAD to the law, the expression implies, that he was once alive to it. Death is a privation of life. No man therefore can, with propriety, be considered as dead to the law, if he never was alive to it.–Prior to regeneration, all men are alive to the law; or, in other words, they seek justification by it. Their hopes are founded upon it, their expectations of acceptance with God and of life eternal, arise from their obedience to it. Such are the hopes of every unregenerate man. This is the way which nature teaches: this is a method which pride encourages.
Man, being originally formed for a covenant of works, and fitted to live by his own righteousness, being endued with capacities to persevere in holiness, and to enjoy happiness by such a constitution, it is no wonder that, in his fallen and unregenerate state, he should have no conception of living to God, or of obtaining salvation, by a covenant of an entirely different kind.–Our first parents, while innocent, having no need of that merciful provision which is made for sinners in the covenant of grace, had no revelation of it. Consequently, after the fall, they could have no conception of any such thing, any further than the great Creator was pleased to reveal it.
Now, as all the human race are the posterity of that apostate pair; and we descending from them, as formed for a covenant of works, and as breakers of it, we not only derive a corrupt nature from them, and are obnoxious to divine wrath; (Eph. ii. 3.) but, when reason begins to operate, we naturally cleave to the legal covenant, as to that which is suited to the feeble ray of nature's light, and to those principles on which we act. Though nothing but sad disappointment has attended man's endeavours in this way; yet, when guilt pains his conscience, not being acquainted with any other support against despair, his pride still flatters him with a prospect of better success by means of new exertions.–Yes, no sooner are we conscious of guilt, and alarmed with apprehensions of impending ruin, than we flee to the law for relief. Sorrow for past transgressions, and sincere obedience for the future; the forsaking of our evil courses, and the espousing of a religious profession, are esteemed the most probable means of procuring the pardon of sin, and the salvation of our immortal souls. Especially, if we have some respect to the general mercy of God, and a partial regard to the atonement of Christ, as fully supplying the defects attending our own obedience, or as inclining the Deity to make proper allowances, and be propitious to us, with regard to our many unavoidable infirmities.
Ready we are to imagine that as the law requires obedience, and promises a reward to the performer of it; a sincere endeavour to do the best we are able, in our present circumstances (though we can scarcely hope to arrive at perfection) will be condescendingly regarded by a merciful God,–regarded, as an undoubted indication of an upright heart, and as a sufficient foundation on which to proceed, in applying, to us the merits of Jesus Christ. Thus we make our well-meant endeavours to obey the law a kind of pedestal, on which the general mercy of God, and the conditional merit of Christ, may be erected to display themselves with advantage, in rewarding the worthy, and in distinguishing those who have already so well distinguished themselves, as the observers of the law, and the friends of piety. In ease of any relapse into scandalous offences, those who are alive to the law suppose the remedy is obvious. They readily conclude that there must be something added, in kind, number, or degree, to their penitential and religions exercises. For example:–Sorrowing more bitterly,–praying more fervently,–giving alms more liberally,–and performing every religious duty with a greater punctuality and warmer zeal. Thus they think to commute with divine justice, or to quit scores for their offences by their duties.
In consequence of such a procedure, they are either elated with pharisaical pride, or overwhelmed with desponding fears. With pharisaical pride; when possessed of a high conceit of the excellence of their duties, and the safety of their state. When they imagine themselves to have performed the conditions required, be they greater or less; they cannot but congratulate themselves on their happy attainments in holiness, and the glorious prospects they have in view. Their own free-will, and the strength of their moral powers, are the idol to which they bow. They offer sacrifice to their own net, and burn incense to their own drag. They look down upon the common herd of mankind with a supercilious disdain. Wondering, in themselves, that creatures of an immortal make, should act so ignobly and beneath the man,–that they should not assert their native dignity, as rational beings; and perform their part no better as moral agents. Supposing that it only requires a good resolution, in the immoral and profane, to break off their vilest courses,–to attain virtuous habits,–to perform the conditions required, in order to eternal happiness; and, finally, to receive the promised reward.
Or, admitting that such persons do acknowledge their obligations to divine assistance, in attaining virtuous habits, in performing righteous acts, and in making them differ from others, and even from their former selves; yet, while they are looking to these ho1y qualities and righteous deeds, as being either the cause or the condition, more or less, of their acceptance with God, or of their interest in Jesus Christ, they are alive to the law, and bound to perform the whole. However amiable in their tempers and conduct, or excellent in their characters, among their fellow-creatures; however they may please themselves, or be applauded by others, their state, in the estimate of Heaven, is the same with his in the parable who said, God I thank thee, I am not as other men. The aggravated fault and fatal mistake of this Pharisee, did not consist merely, nor principally in preferring his own state to that of other men, in general, or to that of the Publican in particular; for he expressly acknowledged his obligations to preventing and assisting grace, which enabled him to avoid the sins, and to practice the duties he mentions. For, surely, it never can be esteemed such an aggravated crime, for any person of a religious character and becoming conduct, when, he reflects on the vicious practices of many, to say, 'God I thank thee, that I am not guilty of such enormous crimes; that I am not abandoned to such evil courses, and lost to all sense of divine things. The seeds of those abominable iniquities, I acknowledge, are deeply sown in my constitution; and, that they have not sprung up to such a malignant height, is owing to thy restraining grace.' Such language may be used by the humblest Christian, or the highest saint, without giving any occasion for blame.
The fault, the awful mistake of the Pharisee principally lay in trusting to that difference, in pleading that preference, in the important article of justification before the tremendous GOD. Here he was chargeable as an extravagant boaster. Here he was condemnable as a vile offender. For whatever comparative worthiness he might possess in the sight of men, yet, in the momentous affair of acceptance with his offended Maker, he should have ranked himself with the worst of publicans, and the most abandoned villains. He, being a sinner, ought to have considered himself as having no other righteousness on which to depend, than what would be equal to their wants, and bring salvation to their souls, were it applied to them;–for, in that grand concern, the eternal Sovereign has no regard to any thing short of an absolutely perfect righteousness: but of this the Pharisee was destitute, as well as the Publican. For whatever difference may subsist between man and man, as to moral character and religious performances, it has not the least concern in their justification. Of this the poor deluded self-justifier was ignorant;–for, though he did not pretend that he was naturally any better than others; though he did not pretend that his works were meritorious, or done in his own strength, yet he supposed that he had, by the assistance of grace, performed the condition on which the pardon of his offences, and his acceptance with God were suspended. (See Dr. Owen on Justification, chap. xxii.)
Such was the state of this Pharisee: and such, when most promising, are the hopes of all Who are alive to the law. When they think of appearing before the great Judge of the world, they look to their own holy desires and pious endeavours, to relieve their anxious minds. In this way is their peace of conscience, such as it is, obtained. This is the method in which they seek to make and preserve their peace with that sovereign Being, whose majesty they have affronted, and whose laws they have broken. To the law they appeal, and by it they must stand or fall.
When, on the other hand, this way of seeking comfort fails to afford relief, when a reflection upon their pious performances and penitential exercises yields no consolation, then a sense of guilt overwhelms them with desponding fears. The covenant of grace, with all its cheering promises,–the blood of Immanuel, with all its atoning efficacy, are overlooked; or, if not entirely overlooked, will afford them no peace while alive to the law; – for as it is the righteousness of the law only, with which they are acquainted; so it is in that righteousness they desire to be found. It is that on which they principally rely; and, without that, they esteem every other thing insufficient. Persuaded they may be, that as their own obedience is greatly imperfect, so they cannot be saved without some assistance from Him who hung on the cross, or without some gracious indulgence from the mercy of God: but, at the same time, neither the atonement of Christ, nor the mercy of Heaven will support their minds, any farther than they suppose themselves to have performed the condition, or come up to the terms, on which they imagine that assistance is granted, and this mercy exercised. So that all their hopes, and all their comforts are ultimately resolved into their own. duties,–into that by which they suppose themselves to differ from the altogether worthless and vile.
Hence it is evident, that the peace of conscience which such persons enjoy is founded on their ignorance of the evil of sin, and of the wrath which it deserves. When, therefore, at any time its awful demerit appears to a greater degree than common, their consciences are pressed with guilt, and racked with terrors. Amazement seizes their minds, and horror chills their blood. Their cry is, Who shall dwell with devouring fire? Who shall dwell with everlasting burning? (Isa. xxxiii. 14.) Nay, if some fresh opiate be not administered to conscience, or the Spirit of God divorce them from the law, and show them a better covenant, their souls will choose strangling rather than life.–Such is the case of a sinner, who is alive to the law, when guilt burdens the soul, and conscience sharpens her sting.
Let the thoughtless transgressor, and the self-righteous professor, consider their state, and reflect on these alarming facts. Whether my reader be the one or the other, his state is dangerous. Is he one of those careless mortals, whose whole time is employed in making provision for the present life, and to fulfil the lusts of the flesh? He is no less under the law,–he is no less obnoxious to its awful curse, though he never thinks about it. But can you rest, inconsiderate sinner? can you be satisfied in such a condition? Can you imagine that your Almighty Maker and Supreme Judge will be for ever as forgetful of you as you are at present forgetful of Him and of his worship? Can the Omniscient overlook you? or, can He who declares, I will by no means clear the guilty, suffer you to sin with impunity? No; while his nature is holy, and his word is true,–while he hateth sin, and has power to punish, it cannot be. You may sleep in your sins for a time, but, if grace prevent not, your damnation will not, cannot slumber: (2 Pet. ii. 3.) and awful indeed will be your condition, if you continue to sleep till fire and brimstone awaken you. Consider this, ye that forget God, lest he tear you in pieces, and there be none to deliver! (Psalm. i. 22.) The rich man in the parable, being in hell, lift up his eyes. Then were his eyes opened. The bewitching pleasures of the world had lulled his conscience asleep. His elevated station in life became a continual prompter to his vanity, and enabled him to riot in the luxuries of sense. Earthly things engrossed his whole attention, engaged his whole life, and left him no time to think about the state of his soul, or the God that made him. The downward road, in which he walked, being broad and easy, and much frequented, he did not consider where it would terminate, till his fleeting moments were all elapsed, and his state was utterly desperate. Thus he became a damned soul, and lost his all, before he apprehended his danger. Beware, reader! lest this should be your case. May the children of this world, and the sons of carnal pleasure, be effectually warned by this dreadful catastrophe of their unhappy brother, that they come not into the same place of black despair and endless torment!
Or, is my reader a serious person, and possessed of an abiding concern for his immortal soul? Permit me to ask, Are you alive to the law, and seeking by your own obedience to gain acceptance with the high and holy God? If so, hear your doom: behold your danger; for thus the Lawgiver himself determines the case: As many as are of the works of the law, are,–what? Pardoned? accepted? blessed? Far from it. They are, on the contrary, UNDER THE CURSE. (Gal. iii. 15.)–'Amazing!' cries one, 'that avowed rebels against God, and the open breakers of his law,–that these who publish their sins, like Sodom, and hide them not, as Gomorrah,–that all such should be under a curse, appears equitable. But that persons who are of the works of the law; who sincerely endeavour to perform its commands, and are looking, in this rational and popular way, for acceptance and eternal life; that they should be in such an awful situation, is quite inconceivable and highly unreasonable!'
To which it may be replied, All who are of the works of the law, are under it as a Covenant. But, as such, it requires perfect obedience; and perfect obedience it must have, or there is no justification by it. Now the apostle, in this alarming passage, takes it for granted that every man has offended and broken the law. Consequently, those who are under it as a covenant, not having abstained from every sin, and performed every duty, its penal sanction lies against them, and it denounces a curse upon them. The awful declaration, therefore, is the language of strict propriety,–is the voice of truth itself. How often shall the Most High declare, that no flesh, that no mortal shall be justified before God by the deeds of the law, or by his own obedience to it, before you credit the solemn assertion, or believe the humbling truth? Is the condition of your justification so small, or your ability so great, that nothing will serve but you must perform it yourselves? Remember, deluded mortals! remember that pardon of sin is a blessing so immensely rich,–acceptance with God is a favour so extremely high, that if all the cattle on a thousand hills were your own, and, together with the first-born of your bodies, were they devoted to make an atonement for the sin of your souls,–were you to give all your goods to feed the poor, and your bodies to be burned; all, all would be entirely unavailing to procure either the one or the other: for a righteous God cannot accept the performances or the offerings of a sinful creature, as a compensation for the injuries done by his crimes. Besides, it is the province of grace and the work of Christ only, to grant the pardon of sin, and to render our persons accepted. This is the capital truth of the Bible; the central point in which the lines of divine revelation terminate. Yet if, after all, you will appeal to the law, to the law you must go. But remember, that in so doing, Christ shall profit you nothing. (Gal. v. 2, 4.) So that you have no alternative, but to keep it perfectly, or die eternally.