Brief Words on Legalism
R. A. Young
I really didn’t want to write about legalism. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say I did very much want to write on legalism, but I’ve been afraid to. It’s an important subject and one I cannot and likely never will do more than brush the surface of. But in any case, quite a number of sources aligned to make me think a great deal about legalism lately. Coincidence seems increasingly unlikely. So here are a few reflections on what has become a very important topic to me.
I assume we all have our terminology straight when I speak of legalism. It is the opposite extreme from antinomianism — that is to say, putting Christians under the Law (or some form thereof) and relying upon it for righteousness. Legalism strictly speaking may stem from an overemphasis on the continuity between the Old and New Testaments. The legalist apparently places himself under his own law of self-righteousness. John Colquhoun outlines both legalism and its reverse. “There are two errors respecting the deliverance of believers from the law that are equally contrary to the Oracles of Truth. The one is that of a legalist who maintains that believers are still under the moral law as a covenant of works; the other is that of the antinomian who affirms that believers are not under it even as a rule of life.” There is, he implies, an equilibrium to be found.
That said, though, I doubt most legalism comes directly from attempts to claim justification by works. For myself at least, legalism tends to be born of fear, or of pride, or even of the apparently healthy goal of pursuing holiness.
Legalism that stems from fear: not a fear of eternal damnation per se, though that plays in, but a fear that my salvation can’t be real if it isn’t manifested in my life — and that I’m in charge of manifesting it. So I find myself striving to concoct fruits of the Spirit by my own power. I fall into legalistic practices, self-made laws about how many chapters of Leviticus I read in a day or how many prayer requests I share at Bible study.
Legalism that stems from pride: when my “holy” actions are to glorify myself rather than God. Self-discipline, dressing well, and limiting social media, for me, have a tendency to lean toward this category. Now, I’m not saying any of these are bad practices. But I do know in myself a tendency to become legalistic.
My pastor referred to this as the martyr complex, of which Martha is the best Biblical example. She scurries around serving Jesus and His disciples, but not from true humility, as evidenced by her irritation with her sister. Her works are coming from a place of pride, not a true servant’s heart. And yet “Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:42). True faith will manifest as works without pride.
The last source of legalism I point out is related to the other two: legalism born of attempts to pursue holiness and to live righteously. Craig A. Troxel touches on this in his book With All Your Heart. “We live in a polluted world that incessantly coaxes us to drink in its open sewage with our eyes. Yes, I know, to prohibit movies is legalism. Agreed. But refusing to watch immoral movies is a form of holiness.” “I believe that far more is done for Christ’s kingdom by the holy living of believers than we are at all aware of. There is a reality about such living which makes men feel and obliges them to think. It carries a weight and an influence with it which nothing else can give. It makes religion beautiful and draws men to consider it, like a lighthouse seen afar off.” (J.C. Ryle) So, holiness and the pursuit thereof are vital to the Christian life. But there is a fine line and a slippery slope between holiness and legalism.
Holiness that we pursue on our own (whether it be from fear, self-righteousness, or even attempts to seize eternal life) quickly veers into legalism. As Troxel points out, “Superficial religion voids the Word of God by gutting it of its intent. God intended for us to obey His moral law with all our hearts. Nothing else will qualify as love.” And yet, as John Colquhoun points out, “Eternal life, according to the covenant, will still follow on perfect, personal, and continual obedience.”
How then do these truths hold together? Where is the line between holy, obedient, faithful living and legalism?
Colquhoun goes on to answer his own question. “The precept of the law as a covenant is ‘Do and live,’ but the command of the law as a rule is ‘Live and do’; the law of works says, ‘Do or you shall be condemned to die,’ but the law in the hand of Christ says, ‘You are delivered from condemnation, therefore do.’ The command of the former is, ‘Do perfectly that you may have a right to eternal life,’ but that of the latter is, ‘You have already begun possession of eternal life, as well as the promise of the complete possession of it, therefore do in such a manner as to advance daily toward perfection.’ By the former, a man is commanded to do in his own strength, but by the latter he is required to do in the strength that is in Christ Jesus.” Horatius Bonar, too, expounds on this truth. “Remember that the Gospel is not a list of duties to be performed, or feelings to be produced, or a frame of mind that we are to pray ourselves into, in order to make God think well of us and to fit us for receiving pardon. The gospel is the good news of the great work done upon the cross. The knowledge of that finished work is immediate peace.”
And, of course, James reminds us that faith does manifest itself in works. “For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead.” (James 2:26)
Colquhoun outlines a reason for our obedience even besides gratitude streaming from faith. “Since man is a creature of God and since, in his creation, he was made in the image of God, he owes all possible subjection and obedience to God, considered as his benign Creator.” We are freed from the law as far as it pertains to salvation, but still very much under it as it relates to sanctification and obedience.
We “also have died to the law through the body of Christ, so that [we] might belong to another, to him who has been raised from the dead, in order that we may bear fruit for God” (Romans 7:4). Look at Galatians 3:24, “So then, the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith” — one of the main purposes of the law all along was to drive us to Christ. “For all who rely on works of the law are cursed ... Now it is evident that no one is justified before God by the law, for ‘the righteous shall live by faith’” (Galatians 3:10-11).
We are, as most of us would readily acknowledge, no longer under the law. But there is still a balance to be found, for the law is still good and wise, still God-breathed. Martin Luther said, “The law drives us to Christ for justification, and Christ drives us back to the law for sanctification.”
How does that differ from legalism? Because it stems from faith — even, it stems from love. We don’t turn to the law for sanctification because we’re afraid or because we think we can do it on our own. We turn to the law out of love for our Saviour and a holy desire to be more like Him.
I say all this as though I know what I’m talking about. Actually, I was reticent to write anything about this because it is rather a struggle for me personally. It is helpful to put thoughts on paper, and remind myself of the truth of the Gospel, but I don’t know how to tackle the sin of legalism, not really. Only by daily grace, earnest prayer, and continually turning myself back to the Gospel and the Saviour Who is my righteousness. My worth is not my own.
