Of the Double Use of the Law
Here you must understand that there is a double use of the law. One is civil: for God has ordained civil laws, indeed all laws to punish transgressions. Every law then is given to restrain sin. If it restrains sin, then it makes men righteous. No, nothing less. For in that I do not kill, I do not commit adultery, I do not steal, or in that I abstain from other sins, I do it not willingly or for the love of virtue, but I fear the prison, the sword, and the hangman. These do bridle and restrain me that I sin not, as bonds and chains restrain a lion or a bear, that he tear and devour not everything that he meets. Therefore the restraining from sin is not righteousness, but rather a signification of unrighteousness. For as a mad or a wild beast is bound lest he should destroy everything that he meets: even so the law does bridle a mad and furious man, that he sin not after his own lust. This restraint shows plainly enough that they which have need of the law (as all they have who are without Christ) are not righteous, but rather wicked and mad men, whom it is necessary by the bonds and prison of the law so to bridle that they sin not. Therefore the law justifies not.
The first use then of the law is to bridle the wicked. For the Devil reigns throughout the whole world, and forces men to all kinds of horrible wickedness. Therefore God has ordained magistrates, parents, ministers, laws, bonds, and all civil ordinances, that if they can do no more, yet at the least they may bind the Devil's hands, that he rage not in his bondslaves after his own lust. Like as therefore they that are possessed, in whom the Devil mightily reigns, are kept in bonds and chains lest they should hurt others: even so in the world, which is possessed of the Devil and carried headlong into all kinds of wickedness, the magistrate is present with his bonds and chains: that is to say, with his laws, binding his hands and feet that he run not headlong into all mischief. And if he suffer not himself to be bridled after this sort, then he loses his head. This civil restraint is very necessary and appointed of God, as well for public peace, as also for the preservation of all things, but especially lest the course of the Gospel should be hindered by the tumults and seditions of wicked, outrageous, and proud men. But Paul treats not here of this civil use and office of the law. It is indeed very necessary, but it justifies not. For as a possessed or mad man is not therefore free from the snares of the Devil or well in his mind, because he has his hands and his feet bound and can do no hurt: even so the world, although it be bridled by the law from outward wickedness and mischief, yet is it not therefore righteous, but still continues wicked: indeed this restraint shows plainly that the world is wicked and outrageous, stirred up and forced to all wickedness by his prince the Devil: for otherwise it need not to be bridled by laws that it should not sin.
Another use of the law is divine and spiritual, which is (as Paul says) to increase transgressions: that is to say, to reveal to a man his sin, his blindness, his misery, his impiety, ignorance, hatred and contempt of God, death, hell, the judgment and deserved wrath of God. Of this use the Apostle treats notably in Romans 7. This is altogether unknown to hypocrites, to the popish Sophisters and Schooldivines, and to all that walk in the opinion of the righteousness of the law, or of their own righteousness. But to the end that God might bridle and beat down this monster and this mad beast (I mean the presumption of man's own righteousness and religion) which naturally makes men proud, and puffs them up in such sort, that they think themselves thereby to please God highly: it behoved him to send some Hercules which might set upon this monster with all force and courage to overthrow him, and utterly to destroy him: that is to say, he was constrained to give a law in Mount Sinai, with so great majesty and with so terrible a show, that the whole multitude was astonished (Exodus 19 and 20).
This, as it is the proper and the principal use of the law: so is it very profitable and also most necessary. For if any be not a murderer, an adulterer, a thief, and outwardly refrains from sin, as the Pharisee did who is mentioned in the Gospel, he would swear (because he is possessed with the Devil) that he is righteous, and therefore he conceives an opinion of righteousness, and presumes of his good works and merits. Such a one God can not otherwise mollify and humble, that he may acknowledge his misery and damnation, but by the law. For that is the hammer of death, the thundering of hell, and lightning of God's wrath, that beats to powder the obstinate and senseless hypocrites. Therefore this is the proper and true use of the law, by lightning, by tempest, and by the sound of the trumpet (as in Mount Sinai) to terrify, and by thundering to beat down and rend in pieces this beast which is called the opinion of righteousness. Therefore says God by Jeremiah his prophet: My word is a hammer breaking rocks (Jeremiah 13:[illegible]). For as long as the opinion of righteousness abides in man, so long there abides also in him incomprehensible pride, presumption, security, hatred of God, contempt of grace and mercy, ignorance of the promises, and of Christ. The preaching of free remission of sins through Christ, can not enter into the heart of such a one, neither can he feel any taste or savor thereof. For that mighty rock and adamant wall: namely, the opinion of righteousness, with which the heart is surrounded, does resist it.
As therefore the opinion of righteousness is a great and horrible monster, a rebellious, obstinate, and stiff-necked beast: so for the destroying and overthrowing thereof, God has need of a mighty hammer, that is to say, the law: which is then in its proper use and office when it accuses and discovers sin after this sort: Behold, you have transgressed all the commandments of God, etc.: and so it strikes a terror into the conscience, so that it feels God to be offended and angry indeed, and itself to be guilty of eternal death. Here the poor afflicted sinner feels the intolerable burden of the law, and is beaten down even to desperation, so that now being oppressed with great anguish and terror, he desires death, or else seeks to destroy himself. Therefore the law is that hammer, that fire, that mighty strong wind, and that terrible earthquake rending the mountains and breaking the rocks, that is to say, the proud and obstinate hypocrites. Elias, not being able to abide these terrors of the law, which by these things are signified, covered his head with his mantle. Notwithstanding when that tempest ceased, of which he was a beholder, there came a soft and gracious wind, in which the Lord was. But it behooved that the tempest of fire, of wind, and the earthquake should pass, before the Lord should reveal himself in that gracious wind.
This terrible show and majesty in which God gave his law in Mount Sinai, did represent the use of the law. There was in the people of Israel which came out of Egypt, a singular holiness. They gloried and said: We are the people of God: we will do all those things which the Lord our God has commanded. Moreover, Moses did sanctify the people, and bade them wash their garments, refrain from their wives, and prepare themselves against the third day. There was not one of them but he was full of [reconstructed: holiness]. The third day Moses brings the people out of their tents [reconstructed: to the mountain] into the sight of the Lord, that they might hear his voice. [reconstructed: What happened then?] When the children of Israel did see the horrible show of the mount smoking and burning, the black clouds and the lightnings flashing up and down in this horrible darkness, and heard the sound of the trumpet blowing long, and growing louder and louder: and moreover when they heard the thunderings and lightnings, they were afraid, and standing afar off, they say to Moses: We will do all things willingly, so that the Lord speak not to us, lest that we die, and this great fire consume us. Teach us and we will hearken to you. I pray you, what did their purifying, their holiness, their white garments, and refraining from their wives profit them? Nothing at all. There was not one of them that could abide this presence of the Lord in his majesty and glory: but all being amazed and shaken with terror, fled back as if they had been driven by the Devil. For God is a consuming fire: in whose sight no flesh is able to stand.
The law of God therefore has properly and peculiarly that office which it had then in Mount Sinai, when it was first given, and was first heard of them that were washed, righteous, purified and chaste: and yet notwithstanding it brought that holy people into such a knowledge of their own misery, that they were thrown down even to death and desperation. No purity nor holiness could then help them: but there was in them such a feeling of their own uncleanness, unworthiness and sin, and of the judgment and wrath of God, that they fled from the sight of the Lord, and could not abide to hear his voice. What flesh was there ever (said they) that heard the voice of the living God speaking out of the midst of the fire, and yet lived? This day we have seen that God talks with man, and yet he lives. They speak now far otherwise than they did a little before when they said: We are the holy people of God, whom the Lord has chosen for his own peculiar people before all the nations upon the earth. We will do all things which the Lord has spoken. So it happens at length to all Justiciaries, who being drunk with the opinion of their own righteousness, do think when they are out of temptation, that they are beloved of God, and that God regards their vows, their fastings, their prayers, and their willful works, and that for the same he must give to them a singular crown in heaven. But when that thundering, lightning, fire, and that hammer which breaks in pieces the rocks, that is to say, the law of God, comes suddenly upon them, revealing to them their sin, the wrath and judgment of God: then the very same thing happens to them which happened to the Jews standing at the foot of Mount Sinai.
Here I admonish all such as fear God, and specially such as shall become teachers of others hereafter, that they diligently learn out of Paul to understand the true and proper use of the law: which (I fear) after our time will be trodden under foot, and utterly abolished by the enemies of the truth. For even now while we are yet living, and employ all our diligence to set forth the office and use both of the law and the Gospel, notwithstanding there are very few, yes even among those which will be counted Christians, and make a profession of the Gospel with us, that understand these things rightly, and as they should do. What do you think then shall come to pass when we are dead and gone? I speak nothing of the Anabaptists, of the new Arians, and such other vain spirits, who are no less ignorant of these matters, than are the Papists, although they talk never so much to the contrary. For they are revolted from the pure doctrine of the Gospel, to laws and traditions, and therefore they teach not Christ. They brag and they swear that they seek nothing else but the glory of Christ and the salvation of their brethren, and that they teach the word of God purely: but in very deed they corrupt it and wrest it to another sense, so that they make it sound according to their own imagination. Therefore, under the name of Christ, they teach nothing else but their own dreams, and under the name of the gospel, ceremonies and laws. They are like therefore to themselves, and so they still continue: that is to say, Monks, workers of the law, and teachers of ceremonies, saving that they devise new names and new works.
It is not then a matter of small importance to understand rightly what the law is, and what is the true use and office thereof. Now, for as much as we teach these things both diligently and faithfully, we do thereby plainly testify that we reject not the law and works, as our adversaries do falsely accuse us: but we do altogether establish the law, and require the works thereof: and we say that the law is good and profitable, but in its own proper use: which is first to bridle civil transgressions, and then to reveal and to increase spiritual transgressions. Therefore the law is also a light, which shows and reveals, not the grace of God, not righteousness and life: but sin, death, the wrath and judgment of God. For, as in Mount Sinai the thundering, lightning, the thick and dark cloud, the hill smoking and flaming, and all that terrible show did not rejoice nor quicken the children of Israel, but terrified and astonished them, and showed how unable they were, with all their purity and holiness, to abide the majesty of God speaking to them out of the cloud: even so the law, when it is in its true use, does nothing else but reveal sin, engender wrath, accuse and terrify men, so that it brings them to the very brink of desperation. This is the proper use of the law, and here it has an end, and it ought to go no further.
Contrariwise, the Gospel is a light which lightens, quickens, comforts and raises up fearful consciences. For it shows that God for Christ's sake is merciful to sinners, yes and to such as are most unworthy, if they believe that by his death they are delivered from the curse, that is to say, from sin and everlasting death: and that through his victory the blessing is freely given to them: that is to say, grace, forgiveness of sins, righteousness and everlasting life. Thus, putting a difference between the law and the Gospel, we give to them both their own proper use and office. Of this difference between the law and the gospel there is nothing to be found in the books of the monks, canonists, schoolmen, nor in the books of the ancient fathers. Augustine did somewhat understand this difference and showed it. Jerome and others knew it not. Briefly, there was wonderful silence many years as touching this difference in all schools and churches. And this thing brought men's consciences into great danger. For unless the gospel be plainly discerned from the law, the true Christian doctrine cannot be kept sound and uncorrupt. Contrariwise, if this difference be well known, then is also the true means of justification known, and then is it an easy matter to discern faith from works, Christ from Moses and all political works. For all things without Christ are the ministers of death for the punishment of the wicked. Therefore Paul answers to this question after this manner:
Verse 19. The law was added because of transgressions.
That is to say, that transgressions might be more increased, known, and seen. And indeed so it comes to pass. For when sin is revealed to a man through the law, death, the wrath and judgment of God, and hell: it is impossible but that he should become impatient, but that he should murmur against God, and despise his will. For he cannot bear the judgment of God, his own death and damnation: and yet notwithstanding he cannot escape them. Here he must needs fall into the hatred of God, and blasphemy against God. Before, when he was out of temptation, he was a very holy man, he worshipped and praised God, he bowed his knee before God and gave him thanks, as the Pharisee did (Luke 18). But now when sin and death is revealed to him, he wishes that there were no God. The law therefore of itself brings a special hatred of God. And thus sin is not only revealed and known by the law, but also is increased and stirred up by the law. Therefore Paul says (Romans 7): Sin, that it might appear to be sin, worked death in me by that which was good, that sin might be out of measure sinful by the commandment. There he treats of this effect of the law very largely.
Paul answers therefore to this question: If the law does not justify, to what end then serves it? Although (says he) it justifies not, yet is it very profitable and necessary. For first it civilly restrains such as are carnal, rebellious and obstinate. Moreover it is as a glass that shows to a man himself, that he is a sinner, guilty of death, and worthy of God's everlasting wrath and indignation. To what profit serves this humbling, this bruising and beating down by this hammer, the law I mean? To great profit: namely, that we may have an entrance to grace. So then the law is a minister that prepares the way to grace. For God is the God of the humble, the miserable, the afflicted, the oppressed and the desperate, and of all those that are utterly brought to nothing: and his nature is to exalt the humble, to feed the hungry, to give sight to the blind, to comfort the miserable, the afflicted, the bruised and broken hearted, to justify sinners, to quicken the dead, and to save the very desperate and damned. For he is an almighty creator, making all things of nothing. Now, that pernicious and pestilent opinion of man's own righteousness, which will not be a sinner, unclean, miserable and damnable, but righteous and holy, suffers not God to come to his own natural and proper work. Therefore God must needs take this maul in hand, the law I mean, to drive down, to beat in pieces, and to bring to nothing this beast, with her vain confidence, wisdom, righteousness and power, that she may so learn at length by her own misery and mischief, that she is utterly forlorn, lost, and damned. Here now, when the conscience is thus terrified with the law, then comes the doctrine of the Gospel and grace, which raises up and comforts the same again, saying: Christ came into the world, not to break the bruised reed, nor to quench the smoking flax: but to preach the Gospel of glad tidings to the poor: to heal the broken and contrite in heart: to preach forgiveness of sins to the captives, etc.
But here lies all the difficulty of this matter, that when a man is terrified and cast down, he may be able to raise up himself again, and say: Now I am bruised and afflicted enough: the time of the law has tormented and vexed me sharply enough. Now is the time of grace, now is the time to hear Christ: out of whose mouth proceed the words of grace and life. Now is the time to see, not the smoking and burning Mount Sinai: but the Mount Moriah, where is the throne, the temple, the Mercy Seat of God, that is to say, Christ: who is the king of righteousness and peace. There will I listen to what the Lord speaks to me: who speaks nothing else but peace to his people.
In fact, the foolishness of man's heart is so great, that in this conflict of conscience, when the law has done its office and exercised its true ministry, he does not only not lay hold upon the doctrine of grace, which promises most assuredly the forgiveness of sins for Christ's sake, but seeks and procures to himself more laws to satisfy and quiet his conscience. If I live (says he) I will amend my life: I will do this, I will do that. Here, unless you do the quite contrary: that is to say, unless you send Moses away with his law, to those that are secure, proud, and obstinate, and in these terrors and anguish hold upon Christ, who was crucified and died for your sins, look for no salvation.
So that the law with its office does help by occasion to justification, in that it drives a man to the promise of grace, and makes the same sweet and comfortable to him. Therefore we do not abrogate the law, but we show the true office and use of the law: to wit, that it is a true and profitable minister, which drives a man to Christ. Therefore, after the law has humbled you, terrified you, and utterly beaten you down, so that now you are at the very brink of desperation, see that you learn how to use the law rightly. For the office and use of it is, not only to reveal sin and the wrath of God, but also to drive men to Christ. This use of the law the Holy Ghost only sets forth in the Gospel, where he witnesses that God is present to the afflicted and brokenhearted. Therefore if you are bruised with this hammer, use not this bruising perversely, so that you load yourself with more laws, but hear Christ, saying: Come to me all you that labor, and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you. When the law so oppresses you that all things seem to be utterly desperate, and thereby drives you to Christ, to seek help and succor at his hands, then is the law in its true use, and through the Gospel it helps to justification. And this is the best and most perfect use of the law.
Therefore Paul here begins afresh to discuss the law, and defines what it is, taking occasion of that which he said before: to wit, that the law justifies not. For reason hearing this, immediately does thus infer: Then God gave the law in vain. It was necessary therefore to seek how to define the law rightly, and to show what the law is, and how it ought to be understood, that it be not taken more largely or more strictly than it should be. There is no law (says he) that is of itself necessary to justification. Therefore when we reason as touching righteousness, life, and everlasting salvation, the law must be utterly removed out of our sight, as if it had never been, or never should be, but as though it were nothing at all. For in the matter of justification no man can remove the law far enough out of his sight, or behold the only promise of God sufficiently and as he should do. Therefore I said before that the law and the promise must be separated far asunder as touching the inward affections and the inward man, although indeed they are nearly joined together.
Ver. 19. Until the seed came to which the promise was made.
Paul makes not the law perpetual, but he says that it was given and added to the promises for transgressions: that is to say, to restrain them civilly, but specially to reveal and to increase them spiritually, and that not continually, but for a time. Here it is necessary to know how long the power and the tyranny of the law ought to endure, which discovers sin, shows to us what we are, and reveals the wrath of God. They whose hearts are touched with an inward feeling of these matters, should suddenly perish if they should not receive comfort. Therefore if the days of the law should not be shortened, no man should be saved. A time therefore must be set, and bounds limited to the law, beyond which it may not reign. How long then ought the dominion of the law to endure? Until the Seed come: to wit, that Seed of which it is written: In your Seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed. The tyranny of the law then must so long continue, until the fullness of time, and that Seed of the Blessing come: Not to the end that the law should bring this Seed or give righteousness, but that it should civilly restrain the rebellious and obstinate, and shut them up as it were in a prison and then spiritually should reprove them of sin, humble them and terrify them, and when they are thus humbled and beaten down, it should constrain them to rise up to that blessed Seed.
We may understand the continuance of the law both according to the letter, and also spiritually. According to the letter thus: that the law continued until the time of grace. The law and the Prophets (says Christ) prophesied until John. From the time of John until this day, the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force. In this time Christ was baptized and began to preach. At which time also, after the letter, the law, and all the ceremonies of Moses ceased.
Spiritually the law may be thus understood, that it ought not to reign in the conscience any longer than to the appointed time of this blessed Seed. When the law shows to me my sin, terrifies me and reveals the wrath and judgment of God, so that I begin to tremble and to despair, there has the law his bounds, his time and his end limited, so that he now ceases to exercise his tyranny any more. For then he has done his office sufficiently, he has revealed the wrath of God, and terrified enough. Here we must say: Now leave off law, you have done enough: you have terrified and tormented me enough. All your floods have run over me, and your terrors have troubled me. Lord turn not away your face in your wrath from your servant: Rebuke me not I beseech you, in your anger. Etc. When these terrors and troubles come, then is the time and the hour of the Blessed Seed come. Let the law then give place, which indeed is added to reveal and to increase transgressions, and yet no longer, but until that blessed Seed be come. When that is come, then let the law leave off to reveal sin and to terrify any more: and let him deliver up his kingdom to another: that is to say, to the blessed Seed, which is Christ: who has gracious lips, with which he accuses and terrifies not, but speaks of far better things than does the law, namely of grace, peace, forgiveness of sins, victory over sin, death, the Devil and damnation, gotten by his death and passion to all believers.
Paul therefore shows by these words: Until the Seed should come, to whom the blessing was promised, how long the law should endure literally and spiritually. After the letter it ceased after the blessed Seed came into the world, taking upon him our flesh, giving the Holy Spirit, and writing a new law in our hearts. But the spiritual time of the law does not end at once, but continues rooted in the conscience. Therefore it is a hard matter for a man which is exercised with the spiritual use of the law, to see the end of the law. For in these terrors and feeling of sin the mind can not conceive this hope, that God is merciful, and that he will forgive sins for Christ's sake: but it judges only that God is angry with sinners, and that he accuses and condemns them. If faith come not here to raise up again the poor afflicted conscience, or else (according to that saying of Christ: where two or three are gathered together in my name, Etc.) there be some faithful brother at hand that may comfort him by the word of God which is so oppressed and beaten down by the law, desperation and death must needs follow. Therefore it is a perilous thing for a man to be alone. Woe be to him that is alone (says the Preacher) for when he falls, he has none to raise him up. Therefore they that ordained that cursed Monkish and solitary life, gave occasion to many thousands to despair. If a man should separate himself from the company of others for a day or two to be occupied in prayer (as we read of Christ, that sometime he went aside alone into the Mount, and by night continued in prayer) there were no danger therein. But when they constrained men continually to live a solitary life, it was a device of the Devil himself. For when a man is tempted and is alone, he is not able to raise up himself, no not in the least temptation that can be.
Verse 19. And it was ordained by Angels in the hand of a Mediator.
This is a little digression from his purpose, which he neither declares, nor finishes: but only touches it by the way, and so proceeds. For he returns immediately to his purpose, when he says: what? Is the law then contrary to the promises of God? Now, this was the occasion of his digression. He fell into this difference between the law and the Gospel: namely, that the law added to the promises, did differ from the Gospel, not only in respect of time, but also of the author and the principal cause thereof. For the law was delivered by the Angels (Hebrews 1): but the Gospel by the Lord himself. Therefore the Gospel is far more excellent than the law. For the law is the voice of the servants, but the Gospel is the voice of the Lord himself. Therefore to abase and to diminish the authority of the law, and to exalt and magnify the Gospel, he says that the law was a doctrine given to continue but for a small time (for it endured but only until the fullness of the promise, that is to say, until the blessed Seed came which fulfilled the promise): but that the Gospel was for ever. For all the faithful have had always one and the very same Gospel from the beginning of the world, and by that they were saved. The law therefore is far inferior to the Gospel, because it was ordained by the Angels which are but servants, and endured but for a short time, whereas the Gospel was ordained by the Lord himself, to continue for ever (Hebrews 1). For it was promised before all worlds (Titus 1).
Moreover, the word of the law was not ordained by the Angels being but servants, but also by another servant far inferior to the Angels, namely by a man, that is (as here he says) by the hand of a Mediator, that is to say, Moses. Now, Christ is not a servant, but the Lord himself. He is not a Mediator between God and man according to the law as Moses was, but he is a Mediator of a better Testament. The law therefore was ordained by Angels as servants. For Moses and the people heard God speaking in the Mount Sinai: that is to say, they heard the angels speaking in the person of God. Therefore Stephen in Acts 7 says: You have received the law by the ministry of the Angels, and you have not regarded it. Also the text in the third chapter of Exodus shows plainly that the Angel appeared to Moses in a flame of fire, and spoke to him from the midst of the bush.
Paul therefore signifies that Christ is a Mediator of a far better Testament than Moses. And here he alludes to that history in Moses concerning the giving of the law, which says, that Moses led the people out of their tents to meet with God, and that he placed them at the foot of the Mount Sinai. There was a heavy and horrible sight. The whole Mount was in a flaming fire. When the people saw this, they began to tremble: for they thought that they should have been suddenly destroyed in this fearful tempest. Because therefore they could not abide the law sounding so horribly out of Mount Sinai, (for that terrifying voice of the law would have killed the people) they said to Moses their Mediator: Come here and hear what the Lord says, and speak to us. And he answered: I myself (says he) was a Mediator, and one that stood between God and you. Etc. By these places it is plain enough that Moses was appointed a Mediator between the people, and the law speaking.
Therefore Paul by this history goes about to declare, that it is impossible that righteousness should come by the law. As if he should say: how can the law justify, seeing the whole people of Israel, being purified and sanctified, indeed and Moses himself the Mediator between God and the people, were afraid and trembled at the voice of the law, as it is said in the Epistle to the Hebrews? Here was nothing but fear and trembling. But what righteousness and holiness is this, not to be able to bear, indeed not to be able or willing to hear the law, but to flee from it, and so to hate it, that it is impossible to hate and abhor anything more in the whole world? As the history most plainly testifies, that the people when they heard the law, did hate nothing more than the law, and rather wished death, than to hear the law.
So, when sin is discovered, as it were by certain bright beams which the law strikes into the heart, there is nothing more odious and more intolerable to man, than the law is. Here he would rather choose death, than be constrained to bear these terrors of the law, be it never so little a time: which is a most certain token that the law justifies not. For if the law did justify, then (no doubt) men would love it, they would delight in it [reconstructed: and be raised up and comforted by the gracious and free mercy of God]. Therefore the law justifies not.
If the law should serve my affections: that is to say, if it should approve my hypocrisy, my opinion and confidence of my own righteousness: if it should say that without the mercy of God and faith in Christ through the help of it alone (as all the world naturally judges of the law) I might be justified before God: and moreover, if it should say that God is pacified and overcome by works, and is bound to reward the doers thereof, that so I having no need of God, might be a God to myself, and merit grace by my works, and setting my Savior Christ apart, might save myself by my own merits: If (I say) the law should thus serve my affections, then should it be sweet, delectable, and pleasant indeed: So well can reason flatter itself. Notwithstanding this should no longer continue, but until the law should come to its own proper use and office: then should it appear that reason cannot suffer those bright beams of the law. There some Moses must needs come between as a Mediator, and yet notwithstanding without any fruit, as I will declare hereafter.
To this purpose serves that place in 2 Corinthians 3 concerning the covered face of Moses, where Paul out of the history of Exodus 34 shows that the children of Israel, not only did not know, but also could not abide the true and spiritual use of the law. First, for that they could not look to the end of the law (says Paul) because of the veil which Moses put upon his face. Again, they could not look upon the face of Moses being bare and uncovered, for the glory of his countenance. For when Moses went about to talk with them, he covered his face with a veil: without which they could not bear his talk: that is, they could not hear Moses himself their Mediator, unless he had set another Mediator between: that is to say, the veil. How then should they hear the voice of God, or of an Angel, when they could not hear the voice of Moses being but a man, indeed and also their Mediator, except his face had been covered? Therefore, except the blessed Seed come to raise up and comfort him which has heard the law, he perishes through desperation, in detesting of the law, in hating and blaspheming of God, and daily more and more offends against God. For this fear and confusion of conscience which the law brings, the deeper it pierces and the longer it continues, the more it increases hatred, and blasphemy against God.
This history therefore teaches what is the power of free will. The people are stricken with fear, they tremble and they flee back. Where is now free will? Where is now that good will, that good intent, that right judgment of reason which the Papists do so much brag of? What avails free will here in these sanctified and holy men? It can say nothing: It blinds their reason: it perverts their will: it receives not, it salutes not, it embraces not with joy the Lord coming with thundering, lightning, and fire into the Mount Sinai. It cannot hear the voice of the Lord: but on the contrary it says: Let not the Lord speak to us, lest we die. We see then what the strength and power of free will is in the children of Israel, who though they were cleansed and sanctified, could not hear one syllable or letter of the law. Therefore these high commendations which the Papists give to their free will are nothing else but mere toys and doting dreams.
Verse 20. Now, a Mediator is not a Mediator of one.
Here he compares these two Mediators together, and that with a marvelous brevity: yet so notwithstanding, that he satisfies the attentive reader, who, because this word Mediator is general, by and by understands that Paul speaks also of the Mediator generally, and not of Moses only. A Mediator (says he) is not a Mediator of one only: but this word necessarily comprehends two: that is to say, him that is offended, and him that is the offender: of whom, the one has need of intercession, and the other needs none. Therefore a Mediator is not of one, but of two, and of such two as be at variance between themselves. So Moses by a general definition is a Mediator, because he does the office of a Mediator between the law and the people, who cannot abide the true and spiritual use of the law. The law therefore must have a new face, and its voice must be changed: that is to say, the voice of the law must be made spiritual, or the law must be made lively in the inward affection, and must put on a visor or a veil, that it may now become more tolerable, so that the people may be able to hear it by the voice of Moses.
Now, the law being thus covered, speaks no more in its Majesty, but by the mouth of Moses. After this manner it does not do its office any more: that is, it does not terrify the conscience. And this is the cause that they do neither understand it, nor regard it: by means of which they become secure, negligent, and presumptuous hypocrites. [illegible] And yet notwithstanding, one of these two must needs be done: namely, that either the law must be without its use, and covered with a veil (but then, as I have said, it makes hypocrites): or else it must be in its use without the veil, and then it kills. For man's heart cannot abide the law in its true use, without the veil. It behooves you therefore, if you look to the end of the law without the veil, either to lay hold on that blessed Seed by faith, (that is to say) you must look beyond the end of the law to Christ, which is the accomplishment of the law: which may say to you: The law has terrified you enough: Be of good comfort my son, your sins are forgiven you, (of which I will speak more soon): or else surely you must have Moses for your Mediator, with his veil.
For this cause Paul says: A Mediator is not a Mediator of one. For it could not be that Moses should be a Mediator of God alone: For God needs no Mediator. And again, he is not a Mediator of the people only, but he does the office of a Mediator between God and the people, which were at discord with God. For it is the office of a Mediator to pacify the party that is offended, and to reconcile to him the party which is the offender. Notwithstanding Moses is a Mediator in this sort, as I have said: which does nothing else but change the voice of the law, and makes it tolerable, so that the people may abide the hearing thereof: but gives no power to accomplish the same. To conclude, he is a Mediator but only of the veil, and therefore he gives no power to perform the law, but only in the veil. Therefore his disciples, in that he is a Mediator of the veil, must always be hypocrites.
But what (think you) should have come to pass if the law had been given without Moses, either else before or after Moses, and there had been no Mediator, and in the mean season the people should not have been suffered either to flee away, or else to have had any Mediator? Here either the people being beaten down with intolerable fear, should have perished forthwith, or if they should have escaped, there must needs have come some other Mediator, which should have set himself between the law and the people to this end, that both the people might be preserved, and the law remain in its force and strength, and also an atonement might be made between the law and the people. Indeed Moses comes in the mean season, and is made a Mediator: he puts on a veil and covers his face: but he cannot deliver men's consciences from the anguish and terror which the law brings. Therefore, when a man, in the hour of death or in the conflict of conscience feels the wrath and judgment of God for sin which the law reveals and increases, here to keep him from desperation, setting aside Moses with his veil, he must have a Mediator which may say to him: Although you be a sinner, yet you will remain, that is to say: you will not die, although the law with its wrath and malediction does still remain.
This Mediator is Jesus Christ, which changes not the voice of the law, nor hides the same with a veil as Moses did, nor leads me out of the sight of the law: but he sets himself against the wrath of the law and takes it away, and satisfies the law in his own body by himself. And by the Gospel he says to me: Indeed the law threatens to you the wrath of God and eternal death: but be not afraid: flee not away, but stand still. I supply and perform all things for you: I satisfy the law for you. This is a Mediator which far excels Moses, who sets himself between God being angry, and the sinner. The intercession of Moses here profits nothing: he has done his office, and he with his veil is now vanished away. Here the miserable sinner being utterly desperate, or a man now approaching to death, and God being offended and angry do encounter together. Therefore there must come a far other Mediator than Moses, which may satisfy the law, take away the wrath thereof, and may reconcile to God who is angry, that poor sinner, miserable and guilty of eternal death.
Of this Mediator Paul speaks briefly when he says: A Mediator is not a Mediator of one. For this word Mediator properly signifies such a one as does the office of a Mediator between the party that is offended and the offender. We are the offenders: God with his law is he which is offended. And the offense is such, that God can not pardon it, neither can we satisfy for the same. Therefore between God, who of himself is but one, and us, there is wonderful discord. Moreover, God can not revoke his law, but he will have it observed and kept. And we which have transgressed the law, can not flee from the presence of God. Christ therefore has set himself a Mediator between two which are quite contrary and utterly separate asunder with an infinite and everlasting separation, and has reconciled them together. And how has he done this? He has put away (as Paul says in another place) the handwriting which was against us, which by ordinances (that is, by the law) was contrary to us, and he has taken it and fastened it to the Cross, and has spoiled principalities and powers, and has made a show of them openly, and has triumphed over them by himself. Therefore he is not a Mediator of one, but of two, utterly disagreeing between themselves.
This is also a mighty place and of great efficacy to confute and confound the righteousness of the law, and to teach us that in the matter of justification it ought to be utterly removed out of our sight. Also this word [Mediator] ministers sufficient matter to prove that the law justifies not: for else what need should we have of a Mediator? Seeing then that man's nature can not abide the hearing of the law, much less is it able to accomplish the law, or to agree with the law.
This doctrine (which I do so often repeat and not without tediousness do still beat into your heads) is the true doctrine of the law, which every Christian ought with all diligence to learn, that he may be able truly to define what the law is, what is the true use and office, what are the limits, what is the power, the time and the end thereof. For it has an effect quite contrary to the judgment of all men: which have this pestilent and pernicious opinion naturally rooted in them, that the law justifies. Therefore I fear lest this doctrine will be darkened and defaced again, when we are dead. For the world must be replenished with horrible darkness and errors before the latter day come.
He therefore that is able to understand this, let him understand it, that the law in true Christian divinity, and in his true and proper definition does not justify: but has a clean contrary effect. For it shows and discovers to us ourselves: it sets God before us in his anger: it reveals God's wrath, it terrifies us, and it does not only reveal sin, but also mightily increases sin, so that where sin was before but little, now by the law which brings the same to light, it becomes exceeding sinful: so that a man now begins to hate the law and to flee from it, and with a perfect hatred to abhor God the maker of the law. This is not to be justified by the law (and that even reason itself is compelled to grant): but to commit a double sin against the law. First, not only to have a will so disagreeing from the law that you can not hear it: but also to do contrary to that which it commands: And secondly so to hate it that you would wish it were abolished together with God himself who is the author thereof and absolutely good.
Now, what greater blasphemy, what sin more horrible can be imagined than to hate God? To abhor his law, and not to suffer the hearing thereof? Which notwithstanding is good and holy. For the history does plainly witness that the people of Israel refused to hear that excellent law, those holy and most gracious words (namely, I am the Lord your God, which brought you out of the land of Egypt and out of the house of bondage. You shall have no other Gods etc. Showing mercy to thousands etc. Honor your father and your mother that it may go well with you, and that your days may be prolonged upon the earth etc.) and that they had need of a Mediator. They could not abide this most excellent, perfect and divine wisdom: this most gracious, sweet, and comfortable doctrine. Let not the Lord speak to us (say they) lest we die. Speak you to us etc. Doubtless it is a marvelous thing that a man can not hear that which is his whole felicity, namely that he has a God, yes and a merciful God which will show mercy to him in many thousands of generations etc. And moreover that he can not abide that which is his chief safety, protection and defense, namely: You shall not kill: You shall not commit adultery: You shall not steal: For by these words the Lord has compassed and fortified the life of man, his wife, his children and his goods, as it were with a wall against the force and violence of the wicked.
The law then can do nothing, saving that by his light it lightens the conscience that it may know sin, death, the judgment, the hatred and wrath of God. Before the law comes I am secure: I feel no sin: but when the law comes, sin, death, and hell are revealed to me. This is not to be made righteous, but guilty, and the enemy of God, to be condemned to death and hell fire. The principal point then of the law in true Christian divinity is, to make men, not better but worse: that is to say, it shows to them their sin, that by the knowledge thereof they may be humbled, terrified, bruised and broken, and by this means may be driven to seek comfort, and so to come to that blessed Seed.
Verse. 20. But God is one.
God offends no person, and therefore needs no Mediator. But we offend God and therefore we have need of a Mediator, not Moses, but Christ, which speaks far better things for us etc. Here he has continued in his digression: Now he returns to his purpose.
Verse. 21. Is the law then against the promise of God?
Paul said before that the law justifies not. Shall we then take away the law? No, not so. For it brings with it a certain benefit. What is that? It brings men to the knowledge of themselves: it discovers and increases sin, etc. Here now rises another objection. If the law does nothing else but make men worse in showing to them their sin, then it is contrary to the promises of God. For it seems that God is but only provoked to anger and offended through the law, and therefore he regards not nor performs his promises. We Jews have thought the contrary: to wit, that we are restrained and bridled by this external discipline, to the end that God being provoked thereby, might hasten the performing of his promise, and that by this discipline we might deserve the promise.
Paul answers: It is nothing so. But contrariwise, if you have regard to the law, the promise is rather hindered. For natural reason offends God who so faithfully promises, while it will not hear his good and holy law. For it says: Let not the Lord speak to us, etc. How can it be then that God should perform his promise to those, which, not only receive not his law and his discipline, but also with a mortal hatred do shun it and flee from it? Here therefore (as I said) rises this objection: Then the law seems to hinder the promises of God. This objection Paul touches by the way and briefly answers, saying:
Verse 21. God forbid.
Why so? First for that God does not make any promise to us because of our worthiness, our merits, our good works: but what he does, is of his mere goodness and inestimable mercy in Christ. He says not to Abraham: All nations shall be blessed in you because you have kept the law: but (as it is written in the 24th chapter of Joshua) when he was yet uncircumcised, had no law, and was yet an idolater, he said to him: Go out of your own land, etc. I will be your protector, etc. Also: In your seed shall all nations be blessed. These are absolute and mere promises: which God freely gives to Abraham, without any condition or respect of works either going before or coming after.
This is specially against the Jews, which think that the promises of God are hindered because of their sins. God (says Paul) does not slack his promises because of our sins, or hasten the same for our righteousness and merits: he regards neither the one nor the other. Therefore, although we be worse and more sinful, and brought into a greater contempt and hatred of God by means of the laws, yet notwithstanding God is not moved thereby to defer his promise. For his promise does not stand upon our worthiness, but upon his only goodness and mercy. Therefore, where the Jews say: The Messiah is not yet come, because our sins do hinder his coming, it is a detestable lie. As though God should become unrighteous because of our sins, or made a liar because we are liars. He abides always just and true: his truth therefore is the only cause that he accomplishes and performs his promise.
Moreover, although the law does reveal and increase sin, yet it is not against the promises of God, indeed rather it confirms the promises. For as concerning its proper work and end, it humbles and prepares a man (so that he uses it rightly) to sigh and seek for mercy. For when sin is revealed to a man and so increased by the law, then he begins to perceive the wickedness and hatred of man's heart against the law, and against God himself the author of the law. Then he feels indeed that, not only he loves not God, but also hates and blasphemes God who is full of goodness and mercy, and his law which is just and holy. Then he is constrained to confess that there is no good thing in him. And thus, when he is thrown down and humbled by the law, he acknowledges himself to be most miserable and damnable. When the law therefore constrains a man so to acknowledge his own corruption, and to confess his sin from the bottom of his heart, then it has done its office truly, and its time is accomplished and ended. And now is the time of grace, that the blessed seed may come to raise up and to comfort him that is so cast down and humbled by the law.
After this manner the law is not against the promises of God. For first the promise depends not upon the law, but upon the truth and mercy of God only and alone. Secondly when the law is in its chief end and office, it humbles a man, and in humbling him it makes him to sigh and groan, and to seek the hand and aid of the Mediator, and makes his grace and his mercy exceeding sweet and comfortable (as is said in Psalm 109: Your mercy is sweet) and his gift precious and inestimable. And by this means it prepares us and makes us apt to apprehend and to receive Christ. For as the poet says: Dulcia non meruit qui non gustauit amara: that is, He that has not tasted the things that are bitter, is not worthy to taste the things that are sweeter.
Hunger is the best cook. Therefore like as the dry earth does covet the rain, even so the law makes troubled and afflicted souls to thirst after Christ. To such Christ savors sweetly: to them he is nothing else but joy, consolation and life. And there begins Christ and his benefit rightly to be known.
This is then the principal use of the law: namely, when a man can so use it, that it may humble him and make him to thirst after Christ. And indeed Christ requires thirsty souls, whom he most lovingly and graciously allures and calls to him when he says: Come to me all you that labor and are heavy laden and I will refresh you (Matthew 11:28). He delights therefore to water these dry grounds. He pours not his waters upon fat and rank grounds, or such as are not dry and covet no water. His good things are inestimable, and therefore he gives them to none but to such as have need of them, and feeling the great need they have thereof, do earnestly desire them. He preaches glad tidings to the poor: he gives drink to the thirsty. If any thirst (says John) let him come to me, etc. (John 7:37-38). He heals the broken hearted, etc.: that is, he comforts those that are bruised and afflicted by the law. Therefore the law is not against the promises of God.
Verse 21. For if there had been a law given which brings life, surely righteousness should have been by the law.
By these words Paul signifies that no law of itself is able to quicken or give life, but only kills. Therefore such works as are done, not only according to the laws and traditions of the Pope, but also according to the very law of God, do not justify a man before God, but make him a sinner: they do not pacify the wrath of God, but they kindle it: they obtain not righteousness, but they hinder it: they quicken not, but they terrify. Therefore, when he says: If a law had been given which could have brought life, etc., he teaches plainly that the law of itself justifies not: but that it has a completely contrary effect.
Although these words of Paul are plain enough, yet are they obscure and utterly unknown to the Papists. For if they did understand them indeed, they would not so magnify their free will, their own natural strength, the keeping of the Counsels, the works of supererogation, etc. But lest they should seem to be manifestly wicked, and plain infidels in denying the words of the Apostle of Christ so impudently, they have this pestilent gloss always ready (whereby they pervert the places of Paul concerning the law which reveals sin and engenders wrath, that is to say the ten commandments) that Paul speaks only of the ceremonial and not of the moral law. But Paul speaks plainly when he says: If a law had been given, etc., and he excepts no law. Therefore this gloss of the Papists is not worth a rush. For the laws of the ceremonies were as well commanded of God, and as strictly kept as the moral laws. The Jews also kept circumcision as precisely as they did the Sabbath day. It is evident enough therefore that Paul speaks of the whole law.
These words of the Apostle are sung and said in the Papacy and in all their churches, and yet notwithstanding they both teach and live quite contrary. Paul says simply that no law was given to quicken and to bring life: but the Papists teach that many laws are given to bring life. Although they say not this in plain words, yet in very deed such is their opinion, as their Monkery does plainly witness, besides many laws and traditions of men, their works and merits before grace and after, and innumerable wicked ceremonies and false worshippings, which they have devised of their own heads, and those only have they preached, treading the Gospel under their feet and assuredly promising grace, remission of sins, and life everlasting to all such as should keep and observe the same. This that I say cannot be denied: for their books which are yet extant, give certain testimony thereof.
But contrariwise we affirm with Paul that there is no law, whether it be man's law or God's law, that gives life. Therefore we put as great a difference between the law and righteousness, as is between life and death, between heaven and hell. And the cause that moves us so to affirm, is that plain and evident place of Paul: where he says, that the law is not given to justify, to give life, and to save, but only to kill and to destroy, contrary to the opinion of all men: for naturally they can judge no otherwise of the law, but that it is given to work righteousness, and to give life and salvation.
This difference of the offices of the law and the gospel keeps all Christian doctrine in its true and proper use. Also it makes a faithful man judge over all kinds of life, over the laws and decrees of all men, and over all doctrine whatever, and it gives them power to try all manner of spirits. On the other side the Papists, because they confound and mingle the law and the gospel together, can teach no certainty touching faith, works, the states and conditions of life, nor of the difference of spirits.
Now therefore, after that Paul has prosecuted his confutations and arguments sufficiently and in good order, he teaches, that the law (if you consider its true and perfect use) is nothing else but as a certain Schoolmaster to lead us to righteousness. For it humbles men, and makes them apt to receive the righteousness of Christ when it does its own proper work and office, that is, when it makes them guilty, terrifies and brings them to the knowledge of sin, wrath, death and hell. For when it has done this, the opinion of man's own righteousness and holiness vanishes away, and Christ with his benefits begins to wax sweet to him. Therefore the law is not against the promises of God, but rather confirms them. True it is, that it does not accomplish the promise, nor bring righteousness: notwithstanding it humbles us with its exercise and office, and so makes us more thrifty, and more apt to receive the benefit of Christ. Therefore (says he) if any law had been given which might have brought righteousness, and through righteousness life (for no man can obtain life except first he be righteous) then indeed righteousness should come by the law. Moreover, if there were any state of life, any work, any religion, whereby a man might obtain remission of sins, righteousness and life, then should these things indeed justify and give life: but this is impossible: for,
Verse 22. The scripture has concluded all men under sin.
Where? First in the promises themselves as touching Christ, as Genesis 3:15: The seed of the woman shall break the head of the serpent. And Genesis 22: In your seed, etc. Wherever then is any promise in the scriptures made to the fathers concerning Christ, there the blessing is promised, that is, righteousness, salvation, and eternal life. Therefore by the contrary it is evident, that they which must receive the blessing are subject to the curse, that is to say, sin and eternal death: for else to what end was the blessing promised?
Secondly, the Scripture shuts men under sin and under the curse especially by the law, because it is his peculiar office to reveal sin and engender wrath, as we have declared throughout this Epistle, but chiefly by this sentence of Paul: Whoever are of the works of the law are under the curse (Galatians 3:10): also by that place which the Apostle alleged out of the 27th chapter of Deuteronomy: Cursed is everyone that abides not in all the words of this law to do them, etc. (Deuteronomy 27:26). For these sentences in plain words do shut under sin and under the curse, not only those which sin manifestly against the law, or do not outwardly accomplish the law: but also those which are under the law, and with all endeavor go about to perform the same: and such were the Jews, as before I have said. Much more then does the same place of Paul shut up under sin and under the curse, all Monks, Friars, Hermits, Carthusians and such like, with their professions, rules, and religions, to which they attributed such holiness, that when a man had once made a vow of his profession, if he died by and by, they dreamed that he went straight to heaven. But here you hear plainly that the Scripture shuts all under sin. Therefore neither the vow nor religion of the Carthusian, be it never so angelical, is righteousness before God: for the Scripture has shut all under sin, all are accursed and damned. Who pronounces this sentence? The Scripture. And where? First by this promise: The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head. In you shall be blessed, etc. and such like places: Moreover, by the whole law, of which the principal office is to make men guilty of sin. Therefore no Monk, no Carthusian, no Celestine bruises the head of the serpent, but they abide bruised and broken under the serpent's head, that is, under the power of the Devil. Who will believe this?
Briefly, whatever is without Christ and his promise, whether it be the law of God or the law of man, the ceremonial or the moral law, without all exception, is shut under sin: for the Scripture shuts all under sin. Now, he that says all, excepts nothing. Therefore we conclude with Paul, that the policies and laws of all nations, be they never so good and necessary, with all ceremonies and religions without faith in Christ, are and abide under sin, death and eternal damnation, except faith in Jesus Christ go with all or rather before all, as follows in the text. Of this matter we have spoken largely before.
Therefore this is a true proposition: only faith justifies without works (which notwithstanding our adversaries can by no means abide): for Paul here strongly concludes that the law gives not life, because it is not given to that end. If then the law does not justify and give life, much less do works justify. For when Paul says that the law gives not life, his meaning is that works also do not give life. For it is more to say that the law quickens and gives life, than to say that works do quicken and give life. If then the law itself being fulfilled (although it is impossible that it should be accomplished) does not justify, much less do works justify. I conclude therefore that faith only justifies and brings life without works. Paul cannot suffer this addition: faith joined with works justifies: but he proceeds simply by the negative (Romans 3) and before in the second chapter: Therefore by the works of the law (says he) shall no flesh be justified. And again in this place: The law is not given to bring life.
Verse 22. That the promise by the faith of Jesus Christ should be given to them that believe.
He said before that the Scripture has shut all under sin. What, forever? No, but until the promise should be given. Now, the promise is the inheritance itself, or the blessing promised to Abraham: to wit, the deliverance from the law, sin, death and the Devil, and a free giving of grace, righteousness, salvation and eternal life. This promise (says he) is not obtained by any merit, by any law, or by any work, but it is given. To whom? To those that believe. In whom? In Jesus Christ, who is the blessed seed, which has redeemed all believers from the curse, that they might receive the blessing. These words are not obscure, but plain enough: notwithstanding we must mark them diligently and weigh well the force and weight thereof. For if all be shut under sin, it follows that all nations are accursed and are destitute of the grace of God: also that they are under the wrath of God and the power of the Devil, and that no man can be delivered from them by any other means than by faith in Jesus Christ. With these words therefore Paul fights strongly against the fantastical opinions of the Papists and all Justiciaries touching the law and works, when he says: that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to all believers.
Now, how we should answer to those sentences which speak of works and the reward thereof, I have sufficiently declared before. And the matter requires not now that we should speak anything of works. For we have not here undertaken to discuss works, but of justification: to wit, that it is not obtained by the law and works, since all things are shut under sin and under the curse: but by faith in Christ. When we are out of the matter of justification, we cannot sufficiently praise and magnify those works which are commanded of God. For who can sufficiently commend and set forth the profit and fruit of one only work, which a Christian does through faith and in faith? Indeed it is more precious than heaven or earth. The whole world therefore is not able to give a worthy recompense to such a good work. Indeed the world has not the grace to magnify the holy works of the faithful as they are worthy, and much less to reward them: for it sees them not: or if it does, it esteems them not as good works, but as most wicked and detestable crimes, and rids the world of those which are the doers thereof, as most pestilent plagues to mankind.
So Christ the Savior of the world, for a recompense of his incomprehensible and inestimable benefits, was put to the most ignominious death of the cross. The Apostles also bringing the word of grace and eternal life into the world, were counted the offscouring and the outcasts of the whole world. This is the goodly reward which the world gives for so great and unspeakable benefits. But works done without faith, although they have never so goodly a show of holiness, are under the curse. Therefore, so far off it is that the doers thereof should deserve grace, righteousness and eternal life, that rather they heap sin upon sin. After this manner the Pope, that child of perdition, and all that follow him, do work. So work all merit-mongers and heretics which are fallen from the faith.
Verse 23. But before faith came.
He proceeds in declaring the profit and necessity of the law. He said before that the law was added for transgressions: not that it was the principal purpose of God to make a law that should bring death and damnation, as he says in Romans 7: Was that which was good made death to me? God forbid. For the law is a word that shows life and drives men to it. Therefore it is not only given as a minister of death, but the principal use and end thereof is to reveal death, that so it might be seen and known how horrible sin is. Notwithstanding it does not so reveal death as though it tended to no other end but to kill and destroy. But to this end it reveals death, that when men are terrified, cast down, and humbled, they should fear God. And this does the 20th chapter of Exodus declare. Fear not (says Moses) for God is come to prove you and that his fear may be before you that you sin not. The office therefore of the law is to kill, and yet so, that God may revive and quicken again. The law then is not given only to kill: but because man is proud and dreams that he is wise, righteous and holy, therefore it is necessary he should be humbled by the law, that so this beast — the opinion of righteousness I say — might be slain: for otherwise men cannot obtain life.
Albeit then that the law kills, yet God uses this effect of the law, this death I mean, to a good use, that is to say, even to life. For God seeing that this universal plague of the whole world — namely, man's opinion of his own righteousness, his hypocrisy, and confidence in his own holiness — could not be beaten down by any other means, he would that it should be slain by the law: not forever, but that, when it is once slain, man might be raised up again above and beyond the law, and there might hear this voice: Fear not: I have not given the law, and killed you by the law, to this end that you should remain in this death: but that you should fear me, and live. For the presuming of good works and righteousness stands not with the fear of God: and where the fear of God is not, there can be no thirsting for grace or life. God must therefore have a strong hammer or a mighty maul, to break the rocks, and a hot burning fire in the midst of heaven to overthrow the mountains: that is to say, to destroy this furious and obstinate beast (this presumption I say) that when a man by this bruising and breaking is brought to nothing, he should despair of his own strength, righteousness, and holiness, and being thus thoroughly terrified, should thirst after mercy and remission of sins.
Verse 23. But before faith came, we were under the law, shut up to the faith which should afterwards be revealed.
That is to say, before the time of the Gospel and grace came, the office of the law was, that we should be shut up and kept under the same, as it were in prison. This is a goodly and a fitting similitude, showing the effect of the law, and how righteous it makes men: therefore it is diligently to be weighed. No thief, no murderer, no adulterer, or other malefactor loves the chains and fetters, the dark and loathsome prison wherein he lies fast bound: but rather, if he could, he would break and beat into powder the prison, with his irons and fetters. Indeed while he is in prison he refrains from doing evil: but not of a good will or for righteousness' sake: but because the prison restrains him that he cannot do it. And now being fast fettered he hates not his theft and his murder: (indeed he is sorry with all his heart that he cannot rob and steal, cut and slay) but he hates the prison, and if he could escape, he would rob and kill as he did before.
Here you must understand that the law has two distinct uses. The first is civil: God has established civil laws — indeed all laws — to punish transgressions. Every law is therefore given to restrain sin. Does this mean that restraining sin makes people righteous? Not at all. When I do not murder, do not commit adultery, and do not steal — when I refrain from other sins — I do so not willingly or out of love for virtue, but because I fear prison, the sword, and the executioner. These are what hold me back from sinning, just as chains and ropes restrain a lion or a bear from tearing apart everything in its path. Restraint from sin is not righteousness — it is actually a sign of unrighteousness. Just as a wild or mad beast is chained so it cannot destroy everything around it, the law bridles a frenzied and violent person so he cannot act on his evil desires. This restraint plainly shows that those who need the law — everyone who is without Christ — are not righteous at all, but wicked and out of control, people who need the bonds and prison of the law to keep them from sinning. The law, therefore, does not justify.
The first use of the law, then, is to restrain the wicked. The devil reigns throughout the entire world and drives people into all kinds of horrible wickedness. So God has established magistrates, parents, ministers, laws, restraints, and all civil ordinances — if they can accomplish nothing more, they can at least bind the devil's hands so he cannot act through his captives however he pleases. Just as those who are possessed, under the devil's powerful control, are kept in chains so they cannot harm others — so in the world, which is possessed by the devil and rushing headlong into all wickedness, the magistrate is present with his restraints — that is, his laws — binding the world's hands and feet to keep it from running into every kind of evil. And if someone refuses to be bridled this way, he loses his head. This civil restraint is very necessary and ordained by God, both for public peace and for the preservation of all things — and especially so that the progress of the Gospel is not hindered by the violence and rebellion of wicked, reckless, and proud people. But Paul is not speaking here about this civil use of the law. It is indeed necessary, but it does not justify. A demon-possessed or mad person is not free from the devil's grip, nor well in his mind, simply because his hands and feet are bound and he cannot do harm. In the same way, the world — though restrained by the law from outward wickedness — is not righteous on account of that restraint. It remains wicked. This very restraint shows plainly that the world is wicked and violent, driven to all wickedness by its prince, the devil — otherwise there would be no need for laws to keep it from sinning.
The second use of the law is divine and spiritual. As Paul says, it is to increase transgressions — that is, to reveal to a person his sin, his blindness, his misery, his ungodliness, his ignorance, his hatred and contempt of God, death, hell, the judgment, and the deserved wrath of God. Paul treats this use at length in Romans 7. This use is entirely unknown to hypocrites, to the Scholastics and papist theologians, and to all who live under the assumption that they are righteous by law-keeping or by their own goodness. But in order to restrain and break down this monster — this mad beast of self-righteousness, which naturally makes people proud and inflates them so that they think they please God greatly — God had to send a kind of Hercules to charge at this monster with full force and power and destroy it completely. That is to say, He was compelled to give the law at Mount Sinai with such majesty and such terrifying display that the whole multitude was struck with awe (Exodus 19-20).
This spiritual use is the proper and principal use of the law, and it is immensely useful and necessary. Take someone who is not a murderer, not an adulterer, not a thief, and who outwardly refrains from sin like the Pharisee in the Gospel. Because he is in the grip of the devil, he will swear he is righteous, and so he develops a settled opinion of his own righteousness, presuming on his own good works and merits. God cannot soften and humble such a person — so that he recognizes his misery and condemnation — by any means other than the law. For the law is the hammer of death, the thunder of hell, and the lightning of God's wrath that smashes the obstinate and unfeeling hypocrite to pieces. This is therefore the proper and true use of the law: with lightning, storm, and the blare of the trumpet — as at Mount Sinai — to terrify, and by its thunder to batter down and shatter this beast called the opinion of righteousness. This is why God says through Jeremiah the prophet: 'My word is a hammer that shatters rock' (Jeremiah 23:29). For as long as the opinion of personal righteousness remains in a person, so too do incomprehensible pride, presumption, false security, hatred of God, contempt of grace and mercy, and ignorance of the promises and of Christ. The preaching of free forgiveness of sins through Christ cannot enter such a heart, and the person cannot taste or feel any part of it. The mighty stone wall of self-righteousness that surrounds the heart blocks it out completely.
Because the opinion of righteousness is such a great and terrible monster — a rebellious, stubborn, and stiff-necked beast — God needs a mighty hammer to destroy and overthrow it: the law. The law is in its proper use and office when it accuses and exposes sin like this: 'Look — you have transgressed all the commandments of God' — and then strikes such terror into the conscience that it feels God truly is offended and angry, and that it is guilty of eternal death. At this point the poor afflicted sinner feels the crushing weight of the law and is beaten down to the very edge of despair — overwhelmed with such anguish and terror that he longs for death or even seeks to destroy himself. The law is therefore that hammer, that fire, that mighty wind, and that terrible earthquake that splits the mountains and shatters the rocks — that is, the proud and obstinate hypocrites. Elijah, unable to endure the terrors of the law that these things represent, covered his face with his mantle. Yet when that storm had passed — which he had witnessed — there came a soft and gentle wind, and the Lord was in it. But the tempest of fire, wind, and earthquake had to pass before the Lord revealed Himself in that gentle wind.
This terrifying display in which God gave His law at Mount Sinai illustrated the use of the law. Among the people of Israel who came out of Egypt there was a remarkable sense of holiness. They boasted and said: 'We are the people of God — we will do everything the Lord our God has commanded.' Moses sanctified the people, told them to wash their clothes, refrain from their wives, and prepare themselves for the third day. Every single person among them was full of a sense of holiness. On the third day Moses led the people out of their tents and toward the mountain into the presence of the Lord, so they might hear His voice. What happened then? When the Israelites saw the mountain smoking and burning, the dark clouds, the lightning flashing through the terrifying darkness, and heard the trumpet blast growing louder and louder — and when they heard the thunder and saw the lightning — they were afraid. Standing at a distance, they said to Moses: 'We will do everything willingly — only do not let the Lord speak to us, lest we die, and this great fire consume us. You speak to us, and we will listen.' So what did their purification, their holiness, their clean clothes, and their abstinence profit them? Nothing at all. Not one of them could stand before the presence of the Lord in His majesty and glory — all were stunned and shaken with terror, and fled back as if driven away by force. For God is a consuming fire; no human flesh can stand in His presence.
The law of God has precisely this function — the same function it had at Mount Sinai when it was first given, first heard by people who had washed, purified themselves, and prepared themselves as righteous. And yet even so it brought that holy people to such a knowledge of their own misery that they were driven all the way to the edge of death and despair. No purity or holiness helped them. Instead they felt such a sense of their own uncleanness, unworthiness, and sin — such an awareness of the judgment and wrath of God — that they fled from the Lord's presence and could not bear to hear His voice. 'What human being has ever heard the voice of the living God speaking out of the midst of fire, and lived?' they said. 'This day we have seen that God speaks with man, and yet man lives.' How different this sounded from what they had said a little while before: 'We are the holy people of God, chosen by the Lord as His own special people above all nations of the earth. We will do everything the Lord has commanded.' This is exactly what happens in the end to all who seek justification by their own works — those who, drunk with the opinion of their own righteousness, think when they are free from temptation that God loves them, that God looks with favor on their vows, their fasting, their prayers, and their self-imposed religious works, and that He will therefore give them a special crown in heaven. But when the thunder, lightning, fire, and the hammer that shatters rocks — that is, God's law — comes suddenly upon them and shows them their sin and God's wrath and judgment, then exactly what happened to the Israelites at the foot of Mount Sinai happens to them.
Here I urge all who fear God — especially those who will one day teach others — to learn diligently from Paul the true and proper use of the law. I fear this understanding will be trampled underfoot and completely lost by the enemies of the truth after our time. For even now, while we are still alive and working hard to explain the function of both the law and the Gospel, there are very few — even among those who call themselves Christians and profess the Gospel alongside us — who truly understand these things as they should. What do you think will happen when we are dead and gone? I say nothing of the Anabaptists, the new Arians, and other empty-headed spirits, who understand these matters no better than the papists do, however much they may claim otherwise. They have turned away from the pure teaching of the Gospel to laws and traditions, and therefore they do not teach Christ. They boast and swear that they seek nothing but the glory of Christ and the salvation of their neighbors, and that they teach God's word purely. But in reality they corrupt it and twist it to mean what they want, making it say what their own imagination dictates. Under the name of Christ they teach nothing but their own fantasies, and under the name of the Gospel, ceremonies and laws. They remain what they always were: monks, workers of the law, and teachers of ceremonies — they have only invented new names and new activities.
It is no small matter to understand rightly what the law is and what its true purpose is. Because we teach these things both carefully and faithfully, we clearly demonstrate that we are not rejecting the law and works, as our opponents falsely accuse us of doing. We fully affirm the law and require its works. We say the law is good and profitable — but within its proper use: first, to restrain outward transgressions in civil life, and then to expose and increase spiritual transgressions. The law is therefore a kind of light — but it does not reveal the grace of God, or righteousness, or life. It reveals sin, death, and the wrath and judgment of God. Just as at Mount Sinai the thunder, lightning, thick dark cloud, the smoking and flaming mountain, and all that terrifying display did not gladden or enliven the Israelites but terrified and overwhelmed them, showing them how unable they were — despite all their purifying and holiness — to stand before God's majesty speaking from the cloud: so the law in its proper use does nothing except reveal sin, produce wrath, accuse and terrify people, and drive them to the very edge of despair. This is the proper use of the law, and here it ends. It ought to go no further.
The Gospel, by contrast, is a light that illuminates, enlivens, comforts, and lifts up frightened consciences. It shows that God, for Christ's sake, is merciful to sinners — even to the most unworthy — if they believe that through His death they have been delivered from the curse, that is, from sin and eternal death, and that through His victory the blessing is freely given to them: grace, forgiveness of sins, righteousness, and eternal life. By drawing this distinction between the law and the Gospel, we give each its proper purpose and function. This distinction between the law and the Gospel is nowhere to be found in the books of the monks, the canon lawyers, the Scholastics, or the early church fathers. Augustine understood and showed something of this distinction. Jerome and others did not know it. For many years this distinction was almost completely silent in all schools and churches. And this brought great danger to people's consciences. For unless the Gospel is clearly distinguished from the law, true Christian teaching cannot be kept sound and uncorrupted. When this distinction is well understood, the true way of justification becomes clear — and it becomes easy to distinguish faith from works, Christ from Moses, and Gospel from all law-based religion. For everything apart from Christ serves only as a minister of death and punishment for the wicked. Paul therefore answers the question in this way:
Verse 19. The law was added because of transgressions.
That is, so that transgressions might be further increased, recognized, and seen for what they are. And indeed that is what happens. When sin, death, the wrath and judgment of God, and hell are revealed to a person through the law, that person cannot help but become impatient and murmur against God, resisting His will. He cannot bear the judgment of God, his own death and damnation — and yet he cannot escape them. Here he must necessarily fall into hatred of God and blasphemy against Him. Before temptation came, he was a very devout man — worshipping and praising God, bowing his knee before Him and giving thanks, just as the Pharisee did in Luke 18. But now that sin and death are revealed to him, he wishes there were no God. The law therefore produces a deep hatred of God. And so sin is not only revealed and recognized through the law — it is also increased and stirred up by the law. This is why Paul says in Romans 7: 'Sin, taking opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me — so that through the commandment sin would become utterly sinful.' He treats this effect of the law at length there.
Paul therefore answers the question: if the law does not justify, what is it for? Although it does not justify, he says, it is still very useful and necessary. First, it outwardly restrains those who are fleshly, rebellious, and obstinate. Beyond that, it acts like a mirror that shows a person himself — that he is a sinner, guilty of death, and deserving of God's eternal wrath and anger. What good does this humbling, this bruising, this battering by the hammer of the law do? Great good — it prepares an entrance for grace. The law is therefore a servant that prepares the way for grace. For God is the God of the humble, the miserable, the afflicted, the crushed, and the desperate — of all those who have been brought to nothing. His nature is to lift up the humble, to feed the hungry, to give sight to the blind, to comfort the miserable and the brokenhearted, to justify sinners, to give life to the dead, and to save even the most desperate and condemned. He is, after all, the almighty Creator who makes all things out of nothing. But that destructive and deadly opinion of personal righteousness — which refuses to be a sinner, unclean, miserable, and condemned, but insists on being righteous and holy — does not allow God to do His natural and proper work. God must therefore take up this hammer — the law — to beat down, smash to pieces, and bring to nothing this beast with her empty confidence, wisdom, righteousness, and strength, so that she might learn at last through her own misery and ruin that she is utterly lost and condemned. Then, when the conscience has been so terrified by the law, the teaching of the Gospel and grace comes in and lifts it up again, saying: Christ came into the world not to break the bruised reed or quench the smoldering wick — but to preach the Gospel of good news to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim forgiveness of sins to the captives.
Here lies all the difficulty: when a person has been terrified and cast down by the law, he must be able to lift himself up again and say: 'I have been bruised and beaten down enough. The law has tormented and vexed me sharply enough. Now is the time of grace, now is the time to hear Christ — from whose mouth come words of grace and life. Now is the time to look not at the smoking and burning Mount Sinai, but at Mount Moriah, where the throne, the temple, and the mercy seat of God stand — that is, Christ, who is the king of righteousness and peace. There I will listen to what the Lord says to me, who speaks nothing but peace to His people.'
In practice, however, human folly is so great that when the law has done its work and exercised its true ministry in the terrified conscience, the person does not lay hold on the teaching of grace — which promises forgiveness of sins through Christ with complete certainty. Instead, he looks for and piles on himself more laws to try to quiet and satisfy his conscience. 'If I live,' he says, 'I will reform my life; I will do this, I will do that.' Unless you do the exact opposite — unless you send Moses away with his law to deal with those who are secure, proud, and stubborn, and in your terror and anguish take hold of Christ, who was crucified and died for your sins — you will find no salvation.
So the law, through its work, indirectly assists in justification by driving a person to the promise of grace and making that promise sweet and comforting to him. We do not abolish the law — we show its true purpose and function: it is a faithful and useful servant that drives a person to Christ. Therefore, after the law has humbled you, terrified you, and beaten you down to the brink of despair, learn how to use the law rightly. Its purpose is not only to reveal sin and the wrath of God, but also to drive people to Christ. This use of the law is set forth by the Holy Spirit in the Gospel, which testifies that God is present with the afflicted and brokenhearted. Therefore if you are crushed by this hammer, do not respond wrongly by piling more laws onto yourself — but hear Christ saying: 'Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.' When the law so overwhelms you that everything seems utterly hopeless, and it drives you to Christ to seek help from Him, then the law is being used rightly — and through the Gospel it plays a part in leading to justification. This is the best and most perfect use of the law.
Paul therefore now begins again to discuss the law and define what it is, taking his starting point from what he said earlier — that the law does not justify. When reason hears this, it immediately concludes: then God gave the law for nothing. It was therefore necessary to define the law rightly and to show what it is and how it is to be understood, so that it is neither taken more broadly nor more narrowly than it should be. No law, he says, is by itself necessary for justification. Therefore, when we are discussing righteousness, life, and eternal salvation, the law must be completely set aside, as if it never existed or never would exist — as though it were nothing at all. When it comes to justification, no one can push the law far enough out of sight, or fix his gaze solely and sufficiently on God's promise. That is why I said earlier that the law and the promise must be kept far apart in the realm of inner experience and the inward person, even though they are closely joined together in the same person.
Verse 19. Until the Seed would come to whom the promise had been made.
Paul does not make the law permanent. He says it was given and added to the promises on account of transgressions — to restrain them outwardly in civil life, but especially to reveal and increase them spiritually. And it was added not permanently but for a time. Here it is important to know how long the law's power and tyranny — which exposes sin, shows us what we truly are, and reveals God's wrath — should continue. Those whose hearts are truly touched by these things would quickly perish unless they received comfort. So if the days of the law were not limited, no one would be saved. A time must therefore be set, and limits placed on the law, beyond which it may not reign. How long then should the law's dominion last? Until the Seed comes — the Seed of which it is written: 'In your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed.' The law's tyranny must continue until the fullness of time and the Seed of blessing arrives — not to bring this Seed or give righteousness, but to restrain the rebellious and stubborn in the civil realm, holding them in a kind of prison, and then spiritually to convict them of sin, humble them, and terrify them — and when they have been humbled and broken down, to compel them to look up to that blessed Seed.
We can understand the duration of the law both in a literal and in a spiritual sense. Literally: the law continued until the time of grace. As Christ says: 'The Law and the Prophets were proclaimed until John.' From John's time until now, the kingdom of heaven has been advancing forcefully, and forceful people lay hold of it. In that time Christ was baptized and began to preach. And at that time also, the law and all the ceremonies of Moses came to an end in their literal sense.
Spiritually, the law should not reign in the conscience any longer than until the appointed time of the blessed Seed. When the law shows me my sin, terrifies me, and reveals the wrath and judgment of God — so that I begin to tremble and despair — at that point the law has reached its limit, its set time and appointed end, and must cease to exercise its tyranny. For it has done its work sufficiently: it has revealed the wrath of God and terrified enough. At that point we must say: 'Now stop, law — you have done enough. You have terrified and tormented me enough. All your floods have rolled over me, and your terrors have overwhelmed me. Lord, do not turn Your face away in wrath from Your servant; do not rebuke me in Your anger.' When these terrors and anguish come, the time and hour of the blessed Seed has arrived. Let the law now give way — for it was added to reveal and increase transgressions, but only until the blessed Seed would come. When that Seed has come, let the law stop revealing sin and terrifying any further, and let it yield its kingdom to another: to the blessed Seed, which is Christ. He has gracious lips that do not accuse or terrify, but speak of far greater things than the law — namely, grace, peace, forgiveness of sins, and victory over sin, death, the devil, and damnation, won by His death and suffering for all who believe.
With the words 'until the Seed would come, to whom the blessing was promised,' Paul shows how long the law would endure — both literally and spiritually. In the literal sense it came to an end when the blessed Seed came into the world, took on our flesh, gave the Holy Spirit, and wrote a new law in our hearts. But the spiritual dominion of the law does not end all at once — it continues to operate deep within the conscience. Therefore it is very difficult for someone exercised in the spiritual use of the law to see the end of the law. In the midst of those terrors and the acute sense of sin, the mind cannot grasp the hope that God is merciful and will forgive sins for Christ's sake. It perceives only that God is angry with sinners, accusing and condemning them. If faith does not come to lift up the poor afflicted conscience — or if there is not, as Christ says, a faithful brother present where two or three are gathered in His name, ready to comfort someone crushed and beaten down by the law — despair and death must follow. Therefore it is a dangerous thing to be alone. 'Woe to the one who is alone when he falls,' says the Preacher, 'for there is no one to lift him up.' Those who established the cursed life of monastic solitude gave opportunity for thousands to fall into despair. If a person were to withdraw from others for a day or two to pray — as we read of Christ, who sometimes went alone to the mountain and spent nights in prayer — there would be no danger in that. But forcing people to live in permanent solitude was a device of the devil himself. For when a person is tempted and is alone, he cannot lift himself up — not even in the smallest temptation.
Verse 19. And it was ordained through angels by the hand of a mediator.
This is a brief digression that Paul neither explains nor develops, but only touches on in passing before moving on. He immediately returns to his main argument with the question: Is the law then opposed to the promises of God? The occasion for the digression was this: he had just been discussing the difference between the law and the Gospel — specifically, that the law added to the promises differs from the Gospel not only in terms of time, but also in its source and primary cause. The law was delivered through angels (Hebrews 1), but the Gospel through the Lord Himself. Therefore the Gospel is far more excellent than the law. The law is the voice of servants; the Gospel is the voice of the Lord Himself. To diminish the authority of the law and to exalt the Gospel, Paul notes that the law was a teaching given to last only a short time — it endured only until the fullness of the promise, that is, until the blessed Seed came and fulfilled the promise. The Gospel, by contrast, is forever. For all believers from the beginning of the world have had one and the same Gospel, and through it they were saved. The law is therefore far inferior to the Gospel — it was established through angels, who are only servants, and lasted only a short time, whereas the Gospel was established by the Lord Himself and endures forever (Hebrews 1) — for it was promised before all ages (Titus 1:2).
Furthermore, the word of the law was delivered not only through angels as servants, but also through a servant far lower than the angels — a human being, as Paul says here: by the hand of a mediator, that is, Moses. Christ, by contrast, is not a servant but the Lord Himself. He is not a mediator between God and people under the law as Moses was — He is the mediator of a better covenant. The law was therefore established through angels as servants. For Moses and the people heard God speaking from Mount Sinai — that is, they heard angels speaking in God's name. This is why Stephen says in Acts 7: 'You received the law as ordained by angels, and yet you did not keep it.' The text in Exodus 3 also makes plain that the Angel appeared to Moses in a flame of fire and spoke to him from the midst of the burning bush.
Paul indicates that Christ is the mediator of a far better covenant than Moses. He alludes here to the account in Moses about the giving of the law — how Moses led the people out of their tents to meet God and stationed them at the foot of Mount Sinai. What they saw there was heavy and terrifying. The entire mountain was engulfed in blazing fire. When the people saw this, they began to tremble, fearing they would be suddenly destroyed in this dreadful storm. Unable to endure the law thundering out of Mount Sinai — for that terrifying voice of the law would have killed them — they said to their mediator Moses: 'Come here and hear what the Lord says, and speak it to us.' Moses answered: 'I myself stand between God and you as a mediator.' These passages make it plain that Moses was appointed as a mediator between the people and the speaking law.
Paul uses this account to argue that righteousness cannot come through the law. How can the law justify, he asks in effect, when the entire people of Israel — though purified and sanctified — along with Moses himself, their mediator between God and the people, were afraid and trembling at the voice of the law, as the letter to the Hebrews confirms? All that was present was fear and trembling. What kind of righteousness and holiness is it to be unable to bear, indeed unable or willing to hear the law — to flee from it and hate it so completely that nothing in the world is hated and loathed more? As the account plainly shows, when the people heard the law, they hated nothing so much as the law itself, and would rather have chosen death than to hear it.
When sin is exposed by the sharp light the law shines into the heart, there is nothing more odious or more unbearable to a person than the law. He would choose death rather than be forced to endure even a little of these terrors of the law — and this is the clearest possible proof that the law does not justify. For if the law did justify, people would love it, would delight in it, and would be lifted up and comforted by the gracious and free mercy of God. Therefore the law does not justify.
If the law were to serve my natural desires — that is, if it approved my hypocrisy, my presumption, and my confidence in my own righteousness; if it said that through its help alone, without the mercy of God and faith in Christ, I could be justified before God (as the whole world naturally imagines of the law); and if it further said that God is quieted and won over by works and is obligated to reward those who perform them, so that I, needing nothing from God, could be my own god, merit grace by my own works, and save myself by my own merits, setting aside my Savior Christ — if the law did all this, it would be sweet, pleasing, and delightful indeed. Reason is so very good at flattering itself. But this pleasant impression would only last until the law came into its proper use and function. Then it would become plain that reason cannot endure the law's bright and piercing light. At that point some Moses would need to step in as a mediator — and yet even that would be without lasting effect, as I will explain.
This is the point of the passage in 2 Corinthians 3 about Moses' covered face, where Paul draws from Exodus 34 to show that the Israelites not only failed to understand the true and spiritual use of the law — they could not even bear it. First, Paul says they could not look to the end of the law because of the veil Moses put over his face. Nor could they look at Moses' face when it was uncovered, because of the glory of his countenance. So when Moses went to speak with them, he covered his face with a veil — for without that veil they could not bear to hear him talk. That is, they could not even hear Moses, their own human mediator, unless another mediator was placed between them — the veil. If they could not bear the voice of Moses, a mere man and their own mediator, except with his face covered, how could they bear the voice of God or of an angel? Therefore, unless the blessed Seed comes to lift up and comfort the one who has heard the law, that person perishes through despair — detesting the law, hating and blaspheming God, and offending more and more against Him every day. For the fear and confusion of conscience produced by the law: the deeper it goes and the longer it lasts, the more it increases hatred and blasphemy against God.
This account therefore teaches us what free will can actually do. The people were struck with fear, they trembled, and they fled. Where was free will then? Where was the good will, the good intention, the sound judgment of reason that the papists boast about so much? What good was free will in these sanctified and holy people? It was useless. It blinded their reason and perverted their will. It did not welcome, greet, or embrace with joy the Lord coming in thunder, lightning, and fire on Mount Sinai. It could not hear the voice of the Lord — instead it said: 'Let not the Lord speak to us, lest we die.' We see what the strength of free will amounts to in the children of Israel, who — though cleansed and sanctified — could not hear a single word of the law. The lofty praises the papists lavish on their free will are therefore nothing more than empty fantasies and foolish dreams.
Verse 20. Now a mediator is not for one party only.
Here Paul compares the two mediators with remarkable brevity — yet in a way that fully satisfies the attentive reader. Since the word 'mediator' is a general term, the reader immediately understands that Paul is speaking of the concept of a mediator broadly, not of Moses alone. 'A mediator,' he says, 'is not a mediator for one party only' — the word necessarily involves two parties: the one who has been offended and the one who is the offender, of whom one needs intercession and the other does not. A mediator therefore stands between two parties — specifically, two parties who are at odds with each other. In this general sense, Moses is a mediator — he performs the function of a mediator between the law and the people, who cannot endure the law's true and spiritual force. The law must therefore take on a new face and its voice must be changed — that is, the law's voice must be softened, or the law must be made livable in outward practice, putting on a veil, so that it becomes tolerable and the people can hear it through the voice of Moses.
With this veil over it, the law no longer speaks in its own majesty but through Moses' mouth. In this form it no longer performs its proper function — it no longer terrifies the conscience. This is why people neither understand nor take it seriously: they become careless, lazy, and presumptuous hypocrites. And yet one of two things must happen: either the law must be without its proper force and covered with a veil — but then, as I have said, it produces only hypocrites — or it must operate in its full force without the veil, and then it kills. A person's heart cannot endure the law in its true use without the veil. Therefore if you look at the end of the law without the veil, you must either take hold of the blessed Seed by faith — that is, you must look past the end of the law to Christ, who is the fulfillment of the law, and who says to you: 'The law has terrified you enough. Take heart, my son — your sins are forgiven you' — or else you must have Moses as your mediator, with his veil.
This is why Paul says: 'A mediator is not a mediator of one.' Moses could not be a mediator for God alone — God needs no mediator. Nor is Moses a mediator for the people alone — he performs the office of a mediator between God and the people, who were in conflict with God. For it is the mediator's job to satisfy the offended party and reconcile the offender to him. Yet Moses is a mediator only in the sense I described: he changes the voice of the law and makes it tolerable so the people can hear it — but he gives them no power to actually fulfill it. In short, he is only a mediator of the veil, giving no power to perform the law — only the outward form of it. Therefore his followers, in that he is a mediator of the veil, must always remain hypocrites.
But consider what would have happened if the law had been given without Moses — either before or after him — with no mediator at all, and the people had been prevented from either fleeing or having anyone to stand between them and the law. Either the people, crushed by unbearable terror, would have immediately perished — or if they survived, some other mediator would have had to come, one who stood between the law and the people, so that the people might be preserved, the law remain in its full force, and a reconciliation be made between the law and the people. Moses steps in at that moment and becomes the mediator — he puts on the veil and covers his face. But he cannot free people's consciences from the anguish and terror the law produces. Therefore when a person, in the hour of death or in the conflict of conscience, feels God's wrath and judgment for the sin that the law exposes and increases — and a mediator is needed to keep him from despair — Moses with his veil must be set aside. He needs a mediator who can say to him: 'Although you are a sinner, you will not be destroyed — you will not die, even though the law with its wrath and curse still stands.'
This mediator is Jesus Christ. He does not change the voice of the law or hide it behind a veil as Moses did, nor does He lead me out of the law's sight. Instead He places Himself against the wrath of the law, removes it, and satisfies the law in His own body, Himself. Through the Gospel He says to me: 'Yes, the law threatens you with God's wrath and eternal death. But do not be afraid. Do not run. Stand firm. I fulfill and perform everything for you; I satisfy the law on your behalf.' This is a mediator who far surpasses Moses — He stands between an angry God and the sinner. The intercession of Moses counts for nothing here; he has done his work, and he and his veil have now passed away. Here the utterly desperate sinner — or a person facing death — and an offended and angry God stand face to face. A far greater mediator than Moses is therefore needed: one who can satisfy the law, take away its wrath, and reconcile to God the poor sinner who is miserable and guilty of eternal death.
Paul speaks of this mediator briefly when he says: 'A mediator is not a mediator for one party only.' For the word 'mediator' properly means someone who acts between the offended party and the offender. We are the offenders; God with His law is the offended party. The offense is so great that God cannot simply overlook it, and we cannot make satisfaction for it. Therefore between God — who in Himself is but one — and us, there is a devastating rift. Furthermore, God cannot revoke His law — He requires it to be observed and kept. And we who have broken the law cannot flee from God's presence. Christ has therefore placed Himself as mediator between two parties who are utterly and eternally opposed — and He has reconciled them. How did He do this? As Paul says elsewhere, He canceled the written record of debt that stood against us — the record of legal demands that condemned us — and nailed it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in Himself. He is therefore a mediator not for one party but for two parties who were completely at odds.
This is also a powerful point that refutes and demolishes the righteousness of the law and teaches us that when it comes to justification, the law must be completely set aside. The very word 'mediator' provides ample reason to conclude that the law does not justify — for if it did, why would we need a mediator? Since human nature cannot even bear to hear the law, it is far less able to fulfill it or come to agreement with it.
The teaching I repeat so often — and keep hammering into your heads at the risk of becoming tedious — is the true teaching about the law, which every Christian should learn carefully, so that he can truly define what the law is, what its proper use and function is, what its limits are, what its power is, how long it lasts, and what its end is. The law produces an effect that is completely opposite to what all people naturally assume — for this deadly and destructive belief that the law justifies is deeply rooted in human nature. I therefore fear that after we are gone, this teaching will be darkened and obscured again. For the world must be filled with terrible darkness and error before the last day comes.
Therefore, let those who are able to understand this do so: in true Christian theology, and by its proper definition, the law does not justify — it produces exactly the opposite effect. It shows and exposes us for what we are. It sets God before us in His anger. It reveals God's wrath, terrifies us, and not only exposes sin but powerfully increases it — so that what was once a small sin, now brought to light by the law, becomes exceedingly sinful. A person then begins to hate the law, to flee from it, and with a deep and total hatred to loathe God who made the law. This is not to be justified by the law — even reason is forced to admit this — but to commit a double sin against it. First, having a will so opposed to the law that you cannot even hear it, and doing the opposite of what it commands. Second, hating the law so deeply that you wish it were abolished together with God Himself, its perfectly good and holy Author.
What greater blasphemy or more horrible sin can be imagined than hating God? To loathe His law and be unable to bear hearing it — even though it is good and holy? The account makes it plain that the people of Israel refused to hear that excellent law, those holy and most gracious words: 'I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt and out of the house of slavery. You shall have no other gods before Me. I show lovingkindness to thousands. Honor your father and your mother, that it may go well with you and that you may live long on the earth' — and that they needed a mediator. They could not endure this most excellent, perfect, and divine wisdom — this most gracious, sweet, and comforting teaching. 'Do not let the Lord speak to us,' they said, 'lest we die. Speak to us yourself.' It is a remarkable thing that a person cannot hear what is his entire happiness — namely, that he has a God, and a merciful God, who will show him lovingkindness for thousands of generations. And that he cannot bear what is his chief safety, protection, and defense: 'You shall not murder; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal' — for by these words the Lord has surrounded and protected a person's life, his wife, his children, and his goods, as with a wall, against the violence and wrongdoing of the wicked.
The law can therefore do nothing except this: by its light it illuminates the conscience so it recognizes sin, death, judgment, and the hatred and wrath of God. Before the law comes, I feel secure and sense no sin. But when the law comes, sin, death, and hell are revealed to me. This is not being made righteous — it is being made guilty, an enemy of God, condemned to death and hellfire. The main work of the law in true Christian theology is therefore to make people not better but worse — that is, to show them their sin, so that through that knowledge they may be humbled, terrified, crushed, and broken, and by this means driven to seek comfort and come to the blessed Seed.
Verse 20. But God is one.
God offends no one and therefore needs no mediator. But we offend God and therefore we need a mediator — not Moses, but Christ, who speaks far better things on our behalf. Here Paul has been on his digression; now he returns to his main point.
Verse 21. Is the law then contrary to the promises of God?
Paul said earlier that the law does not justify. Should we therefore abolish the law? Not at all — it brings a certain benefit. What benefit? It brings people to knowledge of themselves — it exposes and increases sin. Now another objection arises. If the law does nothing but make people worse by showing them their sin, then it seems to work against God's promises. For it seems that God is only provoked to anger through the law, and therefore neither cares for nor fulfills His promises. 'We Jews believed the opposite,' the objector says: 'We thought we were held in check and disciplined by the law so that God, moved by our effort, would hasten to fulfill His promise — and that through this discipline we might earn the promise.'
Paul answers: Not at all. In fact, with regard to the promise, the law is more of a hindrance. For human reason offends God — who so faithfully promises — when it refuses to hear His good and holy law. It says: 'Do not let the Lord speak to us.' How could God fulfill His promise to those who not only reject His law and discipline but flee from it with deep hatred? Here, then — as I said — the objection arises: the law seems to hinder God's promises. Paul touches on this objection briefly and answers it quickly:
Verse 21. May it never be!
Why not? First, because God does not make promises to us because of our worthiness, our merits, or our good works. Everything He does flows from His pure goodness and immeasurable mercy in Christ. He did not say to Abraham: 'All nations shall be blessed through you because you kept the law.' Rather — as Joshua 24 records — when Abraham was still uncircumcised, had no law, and was still an idolater, God said to him: 'Go out of your own land. I will be your protector.' And: 'In your seed all nations shall be blessed.' These are unconditional and pure promises — freely given to Abraham by God, with no conditions attached and no consideration of works either before or after.
This is Paul's argument especially against the Jews, who believe God's promises are hindered by their sins. God does not delay His promises because of our sins, Paul says, nor does He hasten them because of our righteousness and merits. He takes neither into account. Therefore, even if we become worse and more sinful, and are driven by the law into greater contempt and hatred of God, this does not move God to delay His promise. For His promise does not rest on our worthiness but on His goodness and mercy alone. So when the Jews say, 'The Messiah has not yet come because our sins are hindering Him,' that is a detestable lie — as if God would become unfaithful because of our sins, or become a liar because we are liars. He remains always just and true. His faithfulness alone is the reason He accomplishes and keeps His promise.
Furthermore, although the law reveals and increases sin, it is not against God's promises — in fact it confirms them. In its proper work and end, it humbles a person and prepares him — when he uses the law rightly — to sigh and seek for mercy. For when sin is revealed and increased by the law, a person begins to see the wickedness and hatred of the human heart against the law and against God its author. He feels that he not only fails to love God but actually hates and blasphemes the God who is full of goodness and mercy, and His law which is just and holy. He is compelled to confess that there is nothing good in him. Cast down and humbled by the law, he acknowledges himself to be utterly miserable and condemned. When the law has brought a person to this place — to acknowledge his own corruption and confess his sin from the bottom of his heart — it has done its work truly, and its time is finished and ended. Now is the time of grace, for the blessed Seed to come and lift up the one who has been cast down and humbled by the law.
In this way the law is not against God's promises. First, the promise does not depend on the law at all, but only on God's faithfulness and mercy. Second, when the law reaches its chief end and purpose, it humbles a person and in humbling him makes him sigh and groan and reach out to the mediator for help. It makes God's grace and mercy exceedingly sweet and comforting — as Psalm 109 says: 'Your mercy is sweet' — and makes His gift precious and immeasurable. By this means it prepares us and makes us ready to receive Christ. As the poet says: He who has not tasted bitter things has not earned the right to taste sweeter ones.
Hunger is the best seasoning. Just as dry ground longs for rain, the law makes troubled and afflicted souls thirst for Christ. To such souls, Christ tastes sweet. He is nothing to them but joy, comfort, and life. This is where Christ and His gift begin to be truly known.
This is the chief use of the law: when it humbles a person and makes him thirst for Christ. Christ calls for thirsty souls — those He lovingly and graciously draws to Himself when He says: 'Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest' (Matthew 11:28). He delights to water dry and parched ground. He does not pour His water on well-fed, rich ground that is not dry and feels no need of water. His blessings are immeasurable — He gives them only to those who need them and who, feeling that need deeply, truly desire them. He brings good news to the poor. He gives drink to the thirsty. 'If anyone is thirsty,' says John, 'let him come to Me' (John 7:37-38). He heals the brokenhearted — that is, He comforts those crushed and afflicted by the law. Therefore the law is not against God's promises.
Verse 21. For if a law had been given that was able to give life, then righteousness would indeed have come from the law.
With these words Paul indicates that no law of itself can give life — it can only kill. Therefore, works done not only according to the Pope's laws and traditions, but also according to God's own law, do not justify a person before God. They make him a sinner. They do not quiet God's wrath — they kindle it. They do not obtain righteousness — they hinder it. They do not give life — they terrify. When Paul says 'If a law had been given that could bring life,' he is plainly teaching that the law does not by itself justify — it produces the exact opposite effect.
Although Paul's words are plain enough, they are dark and completely unknown to the papists. If they truly understood them, they would not speak so highly of free will, natural human strength, the keeping of the counsels of perfection, works of supererogation, and so on. But so as not to appear openly wicked — as brazen unbelievers who deny the words of Christ's apostle — they always have ready their dangerous gloss: they claim that Paul's statements about the law revealing sin and producing wrath apply only to the ceremonial law, not the moral law. But Paul plainly says: 'If a law had been given,' and makes no exceptions. The papists' gloss is therefore worthless. The ceremonial laws were just as much commanded by God and just as strictly kept as the moral laws. The Jews kept circumcision as precisely as they kept the Sabbath. It is clear enough that Paul is speaking of the whole law.
These words of the apostle are sung and read in the papacy and in all its churches, and yet they both teach and live in direct contradiction to them. Paul says plainly that no law was given to give life. But the papists teach that many laws are given to give life. They may not say this in so many words, but that is their actual position, as their monastic system plainly shows — alongside countless human laws and traditions, works and merits before and after grace, and endless wicked ceremonies and false religious practices they invented themselves. These alone they preached, trampling the Gospel underfoot, and promised grace, forgiveness of sins, and eternal life to all who kept and observed them. This cannot be denied — their books, which still exist, give clear testimony to it.
We, by contrast, affirm with Paul that no law — whether human or divine — gives life. Therefore we place as great a difference between the law and righteousness as there is between life and death, between heaven and hell. The reason we say this is that plain and unmistakable statement of Paul, which says the law was not given to justify, to give life, and to save, but only to kill and to destroy — the opposite of what all people naturally assume. For by nature, people can judge of the law only that it was given to produce righteousness and to give life and salvation.
This distinction between the functions of the law and the Gospel keeps all Christian teaching in its proper place. It also enables a faithful person to judge all ways of life, all laws and decrees of people, and all forms of teaching — and gives them the ability to test all kinds of spirits. The papists, on the other hand, because they confuse and mix the law and the Gospel together, can teach nothing certain about faith, works, ways of life, or the distinguishing of spirits.
Now, after sufficiently and systematically presenting his refutations and arguments, Paul teaches that the law — when you consider its true and complete purpose — is nothing other than a kind of schoolmaster to lead us to righteousness. For when it does its proper work and function — making people guilty, terrifying them, and bringing them to know sin, wrath, death, and hell — it humbles them and makes them ready to receive the righteousness of Christ. When it has done this, the presumption of personal righteousness and holiness vanishes, and Christ with His gifts begins to become sweet. Therefore the law is not against God's promises — it actually confirms them. True, it does not fulfill the promise or produce righteousness — but through its work and function it humbles us and makes us better fitted and more ready to receive Christ's gift. 'Therefore,' Paul says, 'if any law had been given that could produce righteousness — and through righteousness, life, since no one can obtain life without first being righteous — then indeed righteousness would come by the law.' And if there were any way of life, any work, any religion through which a person could obtain forgiveness of sins, righteousness, and life, then these things would indeed justify and give life. But this is impossible, because —
Verse 22. But the Scripture has shut up everyone under sin.
Where has it done this? First, in the very promises made to the fathers concerning Christ — as in Genesis 3:15: 'The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head.' And in Genesis 22: 'In your seed,' and so on. Wherever Scripture contains a promise to the fathers concerning Christ, the blessing is promised — that is, righteousness, salvation, and eternal life. Therefore it is clear by implication that those who are to receive the blessing are under the curse — that is, under sin and eternal death. For otherwise, why was the blessing promised at all?
Second, Scripture shuts people under sin and under the curse especially through the law, since revealing sin and producing wrath is the law's particular function — as we have shown throughout this letter, and most directly through Paul's statement: 'As many as are of the works of the law are under the curse' (Galatians 3:10), and by the passage Paul cites from Deuteronomy 27: 'Cursed is everyone who does not continue in all the words of this law to do them' (Deuteronomy 27:26). These statements in plain words shut under sin and under the curse not only those who openly sin against the law or outwardly fail to keep it, but also those who are under the law and strive with all their effort to fulfill it — which is what the Jews did, as I have said. Even more so, then, does Paul's statement shut under sin and under the curse all monks, friars, hermits, Carthusians and the like, with their vows, rules, and religious orders, which they credited with such holiness that they imagined a man who made his vow and then promptly died would go straight to heaven. But here you plainly hear that Scripture shuts all under sin. Therefore neither the vow nor the religion of the Carthusian — however angelic it may seem — is righteousness before God, for Scripture has shut all under sin. All are cursed and condemned. Who pronounces this sentence? Scripture. Where? First through the promise: 'The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head'; 'In you shall all be blessed'; and similar passages. And then through the whole law, whose principal function is to make people guilty of sin. Therefore no monk, no Carthusian, no Celestine bruises the serpent's head — they remain crushed and broken under the serpent's head, that is, under the power of the devil. Who will believe this?
In short: whatever is apart from Christ and His promise — whether the law of God or the law of man, ceremonial law or moral law — without exception is shut under sin, for Scripture shuts all under sin. And when it says all, it excepts nothing. We therefore conclude with Paul that the laws and governance of all nations, however good and necessary they may be, along with all ceremonies and religions, are and remain under sin, death, and eternal condemnation — unless faith in Jesus Christ accompanies them, or rather goes before them, as the text below will show. We have spoken at greater length on this matter earlier.
Therefore this is a true proposition: faith alone justifies, without works — which our opponents absolutely cannot accept. But Paul strongly concludes here that the law does not give life because it was not given for that purpose. If the law does not justify and give life, then works do so even less. When Paul says the law does not give life, his meaning is that works do not give life either. For it is a greater claim to say the law gives life than to say works give life. If the law itself — even if it were perfectly fulfilled, which is in fact impossible — does not justify, then works certainly do not justify. I therefore conclude that faith alone justifies and brings life, without works. Paul will not accept the addition: 'Faith joined with works justifies.' He argues simply in the negative — as he does in Romans 3, and earlier in chapter 2: 'Therefore by the works of the law no flesh will be justified.' And again here: 'The law was not given to bring life.'
Verse 22. That the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe.
He said earlier that Scripture has shut all under sin. Forever? No — but until the promise should be given. The promise is the inheritance itself — the blessing promised to Abraham: deliverance from the law, sin, death, and the devil, and the free gift of grace, righteousness, salvation, and eternal life. This promise, Paul says, is not obtained by any merit, any law, or any work — it is given. To whom? To those who believe. In whom? In Jesus Christ — the blessed Seed who has redeemed all believers from the curse so that they might receive the blessing. These words are not obscure but plain enough, and yet we must pay careful attention to them and weigh their full meaning. For if all are shut under sin, it follows that all nations are cursed and cut off from God's grace, under His wrath and the power of the devil, and that no one can be delivered except through faith in Jesus Christ. With these words Paul therefore strikes powerfully against the fantastic opinions of the papists and all who seek justification through works, when he says: 'that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to all who believe.'
How we should respond to passages that speak of works and their reward, I have explained sufficiently earlier. The subject before us does not require us to say anything further about works. We have not undertaken here to discuss works, but justification — showing that it is not obtained through the law and works, since all things are shut under sin and under the curse, but only through faith in Christ. When we are outside the topic of justification, we cannot praise and magnify works too highly — those works commanded by God. Who can adequately commend and describe the worth and fruit of even a single work that a Christian does through faith and in faith? It is more precious than heaven and earth. The whole world cannot adequately repay such a good work. In fact, the world has no understanding to appreciate the holy works of the faithful as they deserve, let alone to reward them. For it either cannot see them, or if it does, it regards them not as good works but as the most wicked and abominable crimes — and removes those who do them from the world as the worst plagues on humanity.
So Christ the Savior of the world, as the repayment for His incomprehensible and immeasurable gifts, was put to the most shameful death of the cross. The apostles, too, bringing the word of grace and eternal life into the world, were counted the scum and outcasts of all humanity. This is the world's repayment for benefits so great and unspeakable. But works done without faith — however holy they may appear outwardly — are under the curse. So far are those who do them from deserving grace, righteousness, and eternal life, that they actually heap sin upon sin. This is how the Pope — that son of perdition — and all who follow him operate. This is how all who seek to earn merit and all heretics who have fallen from faith behave.
Verse 23. But before faith came.
Paul continues explaining the usefulness and necessity of the law. He said earlier that the law was added on account of transgressions — not that it was God's primary intention to give a law that would bring death and damnation. As Paul says in Romans 7: 'Was that which is good made death to me? May it never be!' For the law is a word that shows life and drives people toward it. Therefore it is not given merely as an agent of death. Its primary use and end is to reveal death — so that death may be seen and understood, and how terrible sin truly is may be recognized. Yet it does not reveal death as though its only aim were to kill and destroy. It reveals death so that when people are terrified, cast down, and humbled, they might fear God. This is what Exodus 20 declares: 'Do not be afraid,' Moses says, 'for God has come to test you, and so that the fear of Him will be before you to keep you from sinning.' The office of the law is therefore to kill — but in such a way that God may bring life again. The law is not given merely to kill: but because a person is proud and imagines himself wise, righteous, and holy, he must be humbled by the law, so that this beast — the presumption of righteousness — may be slain, for without that death, people cannot obtain life.
Although the law kills, God uses this effect — this death — for a good purpose, namely life. For God, seeing that this universal plague of the world — people's presumption of their own righteousness, their hypocrisy, and their confidence in personal holiness — could not be broken down by any other means, determined that it should be destroyed by the law. Not permanently, but so that once it has been slain, a person might be raised up again beyond the law and hear this voice: 'Do not be afraid. I did not give the law and kill you by it so that you would remain in death. I did it so that you would fear Me, and live.' For presuming on good works and righteousness is incompatible with the fear of God, and where there is no fear of God, there can be no thirsting for grace or life. God must therefore have a powerful hammer and a mighty maul to break rocks, and a great burning fire at the height of heaven to overthrow the mountains — that is, to destroy this furious and stubborn beast called self-righteousness, so that when a person is crushed and broken through it, he might despair of his own strength, righteousness, and holiness, and being utterly terrified, might thirst for mercy and forgiveness of sins.
Verse 23. But before faith came, we were kept in custody under the law, being shut up to the faith which was later to be revealed.
That is: before the time of the Gospel and grace came, the function of the law was to hold us under itself, shut up as in a prison. This is a striking and fitting illustration of what the law does and how it makes people righteous — it deserves careful thought. No thief, murderer, adulterer, or other criminal loves the chains and shackles, the dark and miserable prison where he is held fast. If he could, he would smash the prison walls and break his chains to pieces. While in prison he does refrain from evil — but not willingly, and not out of a love for what is right. It is the prison that restrains him. Locked in chains, he has no regret for his theft or his murder. In fact, he is sorry with all his heart that he cannot rob and kill. He does not hate his crimes — he hates the prison. If he could escape, he would go back to robbing and killing just as he did before.