The Mercy of God's Law

Grace does not remove the high standard of living to which we are called

Photo by Tanner Mardis on Unsplash

Photo by Tanner Mardis on Unsplash

The earth, O Lord, is full of your mercy; Teach me your statues. —Psalm 119: 63-64

This past year I have spent a lot of time meditating on God’s law: both the contents, and the fact of its existence. What does it mean for us as Christians that we have this large section of Law at the front of our Bibles? Genesis and Exodus at least are full of stories that we can teach to children or look for traces of Jesus. But Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, books often light on stories and heavy on rules, are often mystifying. Many of these rules seem barbaric and arcane—women required to marry their rapists? A man stoned for gathering sticks on the Sabbath? And of course, far too much attention paid to bodily fluids.

Law is often contrasted with mercy, with grace. As “New Testament” Christians, we are on Team Grace, not on Team Law. When someone tries to bring an Old Testament principle to bear on a current situation, they are often accused of legalism. “We’re Christians, we don’t follow the Law; we live by grace,” the thinking goes.

But this is not how the Law is portrayed in either the Old or New Testaments, and it certainly does not reflect how Jesus spoke about the Law. The Law is more than a theological foil for the Gospel of Christ.

In the verse above, the Psalmist connects God’s Law with his mercy. Overwhelmed by the mercy he sees everywhere in the world, he longs to know more of God’s commandments. This attitude toward the Law runs all throughout Psalm 119. The Psalmist declares that his very flesh longs for the wisdom of God’s Law. God’s Law brings delight, nourishment, and fulfillment.

Blessed are those who keep his testimonies; who seek him with the whole heart. (v 2) With my whole heart I have sought you; Oh let me not wader from your commandments! (v. 10)

and

I have rejoiced in the way of your testimonies, as much as in all riches. (v. 14) I will delight myself in your statutes; I will not forget your word. (v. 16) Your testimonies are also my delight and my counselors. (c. 24)

and

My soul breaks with longing for your judgments at all time. (v. 20) My soul melts from heaviness; strengthen me according to your word. (v. 28)

Far from seeing the Law as a burden that we are eager to cast off, the Psalmist seems to think that if a person wants to seek God with their whole heart, they must keep his testimonies. There is no hint that the Law is somehow heavy, or burdensome. Why?

God’s Law is an expression of God’s character, of reality itself. It shows us his nature and the nature of the world we live in so that we can live with the grain of reality, instead of always kicking against the goads of reality.

No weight is heavier than the need to live up to our culture’s current moral standard, whatever that may be. We are told that we have an obligation to self-create, as if from scratch, often in defiance of any and all “givens”— family, place of origin, and now sometimes, even your own sex.

In a culture that has sawed to the ground all the branches and trunk of moral norms, who have eliminated all standards for living except the Highest Good of Self-Making, it becomes increasingly difficult to find out what we should be doing. People no longer know how to act. “For lack of knowledge the people perish.”

It takes time and careful work to be able to digest and metabolize the Law, a text written millennia ago among very different people, so that we can live accordingly. The place to start is a regular practice of cherishing the Law through meditation.

For what great nation is there that has a god so near to it as the Lord our God is to us, whenever we call upon him? And what great nation is there, that has statutes and ordinances so righteous as all this law which I set before you this day?

Deuteronomy 4: 7-8, RSV

The thing that set Israel apart from the other nations of the ancient near-Eastern world is that Israel’s God had chosen to be near his people. And it was an act of God’s mercy that he clearly revealed those terms under which he could be near to sinful people. A holy God cannot be near rampant violence, idolatry, sexual impurity, and child sacrifice, all characteristics of the average ancient nation (and to our shame, of many modern nations as well).

When Jesus came into the world, humanity was given an even greater expanse of reality, and received a higher standard for how to act. But we should never imagine that Jesus was at odds with the Law; rather he fulfilled and perfected it.

This was Jesus’ ministry: to preach, heal, debate, question, listen, and dine with the people he so intensely longed to reconcile to the Father. It would not have been a kindness to ignore their alienation in the name of grace. To tell them not to worry about obeying God because Jesus brought a Gospel of grace. Grace is how we are justified by God. Once we are justified, we must know how to act, how to live our lives. Grace does not remove the high standard of living to which we are called. Grace empowers us to live righteous and pure lives, to be the fragrance of Christ in a world full of sin and hostility, to reconcile to God those who are his enemies today.

Your word I have hidden in my heart that I might not sin against you. (v. 11)

If we hide the Law in our hearts, we will find that our hearts are more aligned with God’s will, and with his heart. And we will begin to better fulfill our office as Priests to the dying world around us.