Symphony of Grace

From Gospel Translations

Current revision as of 16:43, 10 July 2008

It was winter in Siberia, and a World Harvest colleague and I were teaching Russian church planters how the doctrines of grace fuel church planting. We had just finished a tough day discussing law and grace. But the day wasn’t over yet.

These guys prefer to use the “big stick” approach as they guide their churches. The contrast in our understanding of how people change was so stark that even the missionary who had invited us struggled with it. He confided that night,

“I think that you World Harvest guys take grace too far.” We talked late into the night about what he thought was “too far.” Sure enough, we met with some of the classic confusion over the relationship of law and grace.

In his mind, “taking grace too far” meant that we were attacking his notion that grace and law function as adversaries and must be held in some sort of tension in the life of the believer. Thus, taking grace too far upsets the law/grace balance and leads to error. He also believed that grace helps you be happy and free, but if you want obedience you must use the law. Grace keeps law from becoming too harsh and law keeps grace from making us too “chummy” with God.

At the end of that long, cold evening in Siberia, I told my friend, “Your problem is that you don’t take grace far enough! The power is gone out of both the law and grace. Grace and law are not opposed to each other, but grace finishes, completes, and fulfills the law. Those whose lives are powered by grace enjoy an obedience to the law unknown by those living with this grace/law tension. You can’t take grace too far!”

In Galatians 3, Paul gives both theological and historical perspectives on these problems in understanding grace and law. Luke also presents an illustration of law and grace in Jesus’ interaction with Simon and the woman in the seventh chapter of his gospel. These passages will give us plenty to wrestle with as we consider how grace and law work together.

Problems arise when we put grace and law into an adversarial relationship. This is displayed in an often-used illustration to explain law and grace. It goes like this: The Christian life is like a road with dangers on both sides. Legalism waits to entrap you on one side and license on the other. The goal of the Christian life is to stay in the middle of the road, right between the two yellow lines. Thus, grace and law become opponents, and the Christian must develop a balance or tension so that neither side is stronger than the other. As unappealing as this sounds, it feels as if it is the only way to safety.

Because the Galatians struggled with this issue, Paul asked them this question in Galatians 3:21a: “Is the law then against the promises of God?” Then he thundered, “Certainly not!” There is no conflict here. Law and grace do not work in opposition and tension, but in concert. One does not modify and temper the other; they work together in the plan of God to bring the promises to completion.

I remember that my first attempts at understanding the Old and New Testaments left me thinking that the Ten Commandments and all the other laws in the Old Testament were God’s first attempt at dealing with people. But the attempt didn’t turn out very well because they were unable to do what He wanted. God’s second attempt was sending Jesus to do this for us, and that worked.

This kind of thinking leaves one confused about the law and its application for a New Testament setting. But Paul gives us the context for understanding the law in the plan of God as it was given to Abraham in Genesis. The promise to redeem and restore a people and to bless all the nations of the world was clear to Abraham. Paul carefully points out in Galatians 3 that the coming of the law with Moses didn’t negate the promise given to Abraham 430 years earlier; rather, the law came to speed the promise to fulfillment.

The law displays the glory, holiness, and beauty of God, and at the same time pushes us to the truth about ourselves — that we are weak and frail, hopeless sinners in need of a redeemer to rescue us. Paul uses the analogies of the law holding us prisoner until faith is revealed in us and of the law as a schoolmaster who is put in charge to bring us to Christ. God’s promise to bless and build a people for Himself came first. The law’s powerful function is to speed the fulfillment of this promise.

With this understanding of law, how does grace work? During my years in Ireland, I have observed that most people say they believe in the grace of God, but the nuances of their understanding of grace are dangerous. What they mean is that God gives “grace” or “graces” to obey the law so we might be found acceptable by God. Many evangelicals believe the same thing. The smile of God on our lives is all about our obedience. Grace has come to help us keep the old covenant.

Paul counters this idea by asking: “Did you receive the Spirit by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith? Are you so foolish? Having begun in the Spirit, are you now being made perfect by the flesh? . . . He who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you, does He do it by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith?” (Gal. 3:2b–5). The goal Paul mentions is found throughout his teachings: participation in the fulfillment of the promises of God, growing in obedience and Christlikeness, and being an effective and powerful soldier for the advance of the kingdom. But where does the power come from for this change and growth? Not from the law, Paul says.

The law is like an MRI scan looking for cancer; it has no power to heal, only to expose. If someone went back to the radiologist again and again to get more and more MRIs, we would call him foolish. Paul is saying the same thing about those who look to the law to help them with their sin. As the MRI drives us to get help from an oncologist, so we are driven by the law to get help for the sin that the law has exposed in our hearts and lives. It drives us to the one who has power for healing and power to make us holy. The law drives us to Jesus, to understand and enjoy our partnership with the Spirit.

Luke tells the story of a woman who gets this power and displays the kind of life changes Jesus offers. The scene is set for a power lunch at Simon the Pharisee’s house. He and his friends have gathered to check out Jesus. Simon is cool and calculating. First, he snubs Jesus by refusing basic hospitality, then, after the woman enters, he adds to his sins by standing in judgment of the Son of God. This Pharisee, like the Judaizers Paul was dealing with in Galatians, epitomizes living life under the law. His is the “I can do this” approach to sanctification. It produces people who look like Simon; calculating, cold, critical, and afraid of what people think, and therefore living life afraid of exposure. When a person is in the “I can do this, I will do this” (and God help anyone who gets in his way, especially his spouse or kids) mode of sanctification, the possibility of seeing sin in his life is just too threatening. There is so much to lose — almost everything.

But in this scene at Simon’s house, the woman’s intrusion is an opportunity for Jesus to reveal a deep contrast. Where Simon is cold, critical, rude, and judgmental, the woman is open, warm, humble, and fearless. But Jesus points out something else about her — she kept the law in a way most of us only dream of. Because of his fear, Simon couldn’t keep a law of basic hospitality — water and a towel for the feet, and oil for the head. But the woman’s obedience was infused with love. She not only did what the law required, she went far beyond it. Instead of using water, she used tears; instead of a towel, her hair; and instead of oil on His head, perfume on His feet. Her actions are to Simon’s as the Sermon on the Mount is to the Ten Commandments. She is a picture of obedience with love and passion pressed into it.

Jesus commends her and points out that she understands the Gospel. Her great debt was cancelled; she was free to love. And this fulfilled the law. But even more than this, the beauty and power of her obedience is astounding. And she most likely didn’t even know it! This is the kind of a life I want — obedience fueled by passion for the kingdom of Jesus.

The law has always required the heart to be behind obedience. With the coming of the Spirit, there is now power to infuse obedience with passion. Paul promises that if you rely on the Spirit and live by Him, you will not gratify the cravings of the sinful nature. This is what he means when he says, “But after faith has come, we are no longer under a tutor” (Gal. 3:25). The promise given to Abraham is now being fulfilled in us. Life in the Spirit means we are partners with Him in the fulfillment of the promise. We are friends who work together for the advancement of the kingdom of God.

Because we know the forgiveness and power of grace, the law becomes a friend rather than an enemy. We can cherish it like David in the Psalms and invite its criticism of us because we know such a powerful forgiveness. We eagerly await this criticism because its drives us to our friend for help, and Jesus receives more glory when our lives display the holiness and obedience He offers. What a promise and what a salvation!