Law and Gospel

David-MichelangeloThe Good News About The Bad News – an article by R J Grunewald (original source the Law’s work is to expose sin. If the Gospel is the Good News, the Law is the Bad News.

Despite the negative function of the Law, the Law is not bad. The Law is good even when it makes us feel bad. Even when the Law functions for the purpose of exposing our sin, it does not exist for the end goal of your exposure.

The end goal of the Law is always the Gospel.

The Hammer in the Hand of an Artist

In 1501, a young man by the name of Michelangelo began to destroy a valuable slab of marble. He cut, he hammered, and he carved, leaving piece after piece of valuable marble on the ground to be swept away. For months upon months, Michelangelo used the destructive force of the hammer to get rid of extra rock.

Cutting, carving, and hammering a valuable piece of marble is a bad idea. Unless that cutting, carving, and hammering is done at the hands of an artist. A hammer is a tool of destruction unless in the hands of a master artist chipping away at a masterpiece.

The Law is a hammer in the hands of the Master Artist.

In Ephesians Paul writes, “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.” One of the tools in the belt of the Master Artist is the Law, a tool that hammers, cuts, and carves in order that the Gospel might reveal a new creation.

At times the hammer swings swiftly and strongly. The hammer swings with force in order to clear away as much marble as possible. The hammer swings accusing our conscience smashing against our pride and arrogance. The hammer swings with the goal of convicting the sinner. The Law swings with force in order to reveal what we really look like. It shatters our self-made images when we realize we aren’t as good as we think we are. It cuts away the excess when we realize that we can’t measure up to God’s demands.

At other times the hammer is more like a mallet, gently exposing our sins and failures. The mallet smooths out the rough edges. It gently causes you to look at yourself and ask, “What kind of husband am I? What kind of neighbor or coworker am I? What kind of friend am I?”

These questions are the work of the Law. They reveal what we really look like and reveal where we are more a piece of work than a work of art.

Notice the demands the Law makes. These are all good things. The Law isn’t bad. In fact, it might even be difficult to consider the importance of being a better parent or husband Law. This is because we are so ingrained with thinking Law equals bad.

“Be a better husband” is Law. It’s good. It’s important. But it’s still Law.

And the Law always accuses.

For example, “Be a better husband.”

If you are a crummy husband, you’re going to feel guilty when I tell you to be a better husband. If you got in a fight with you’re wife this morning, you’re going to think of all the ways you should’ve handled that situation differently. If you had a marriage that ended poorly, you’re going to be filled with regret.

“Be a better husband” immediately exposes your failures. It might swing in harshly making you feel like you’ve been punched in the chest with guilt. Or it might gently tap away reminding you of conversations or attitudes.

Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” The new creation comes with the passing of the old. The destruction of the old materials leaves a masterpiece rising from the ruins. The death that comes at the hands of the Law is followed by the resurrection that comes in the beauty of the Gospel.

This is why Herman Stuempfle in Preaching Law and Gospel said, “the Law is never terminal.”

When Michelangelo began cutting, carving, and hammering a slab of marble his goal was never to destroy the slab. His goal was what he completed in 1504, the masterpiece sculpture of David. The work of the Law is never the end goal. The Law always exists for the masterpiece that comes by the work of the Gospel.

New Revelation?

Charlotte, NC. He wrote the following article “Is the Existence of the NT Canon Incompatible with Claims of New Revelation?” (original source here)

“God has spoken to me.”

There are few statements that will shut down debate more quickly than this one. If Christians disagree over a doctrine, a practice, or an idea, then the trump card is always “God has spoken to me” about that. End of discussion.

But, the history of the church (not to mention the Scriptures themselves) demonstrates that such claims of private, direct revelation are highly problematic. Of course, this doesn’t mean that God doesn’t speak to people. The Scripture is packed with examples of this. But, these were typically individuals with a unique calling (e.g., prophet or apostle), or who functioned at unique times in redemptive history (e.g., the early church in Acts).

After the first century was over, and the apostles had died, the church largely rejected the idea that any ol’ person could step forward and claim to have direct revelation from God. This reality is probably best exemplified in the early Christian debate over Montanism.

Montanism was a second-century movement whose leader Montanus claimed to receive direct revelation from God. In addition, two of his “prophetesses,” Priscilla and Maximilla also claimed to receive such revelation. Such revelations were often accompanied by strange behavior. When Montanus had these revelations, “[He] became obsessed, and suddenly fell into frenzy and convulsions. He began to be ecstatic and to speak and to talk strangely” (Hist. eccl. 5.16.7).

Needless to say, this sort of activity caused great concern for the orthodox leaders of the second century. Part of their concern was the manner in which this prophetic activity was taking place. They condemned it on the grounds that it was “contrary to the custom which belongs to the tradition and succession of the church from the beginning” (Hist. eccl. 5.16.7).

But, the other concern (and perhaps the larger one) was that this new revelation was inconsistent with the church’s beliefs about the apostles. The second-century leaders understood the apostles to be a unique mouthpiece for God; so much so that they would accept no revelation that wasn’t understood to be apostolic.

As an example of this commitment, the early church rejected the Shepherd of Hermas–a book supposedly containing revelations from heaven–on the grounds that it was written “very recently, in our own times” (Muratorian fragment). In other words, it was rejected because it wasn’t apostolic.

This issue reached a head when the Montanists began to write down their new prophecies, forming their own collection of sacred books. The orthodox leaders viewed such an activity as illegitimate because, on their understanding, God had already spoken in his apostles, and the words of the apostles were recorded in the New Testament writings.

A few examples of how the orthodox leaders rejected these books of “new revelation”:

1. Gaius of Rome, in his dialogue with the Montanist Proclus, rebuked “the recklessness and audacity of his opponents in composing new Scriptures” (Hist. eccl. 6.20.3).

2. Apollonius objected on the grounds that Montanist prophets were putting their “empty sounding words” on the same level as Christ and the apostles (Hist. eccl. 5.18.5).

3. Hippolytus complained that the Montanists “allege that they have learned something more through these [Montanist writings], than from law, and prophets, and the Gospels” (Haer. 8.12).

4. The anonymous critic of Montanism recorded by Eusebius registers his hesitancy to write a response to the Montantists lest he be seen as making the same mistake as them and “seem to some to be adding to the writings or injunctions of the word of the new covenant of the Gospel” (Hist. eccl. 5.16.3)

When you look at these responses, a couple of key facts become clear. First, and this is critical, it is clear that these authors already knew and had received a number of New Testament writings as authoritative Scripture. Thus, they already had a NT canon of sorts (even if some books were still under discussion). Indeed, it is the existence of these books that forms the basis for their major complaint against the Montanists.

Second, and equally critical, the response of these writers shows that they did not accept new revelation in their time period. For them, the kind of revelation that could be considered “God’s word,” and thus written down in books, had ceased with the apostolic time period.

In terms of the modern church, there are great lessons to be learned here. For one, we ought to be equally cautious about extravagant claims that people have received new revelation from heaven. And, even more than this, the Montanist debate is a great reminder to always go back to Scripture as the ultimate standard and guide for truth. It is on the written word of God that the church should stand.