The Role of the Law in the Heidelberg Catechism

The genius of the Heidelberg is its relentless focus on Christian comfort. It’s entire plan is based upon the three things that we must know to live and die in the joy of this comfort:

1.How great our sin and misery is

2.How I may be delivered from my sins and misery

3.How I shall express to God my gratitude for such deliverance.

True Christian comfort is not difficult to attain, but resting in it can be elusive. Satan, in league with our Old Man, fights a lifelong battle to accuse us before the throne. This threefold knowledge — guilt, grace, and gratitude — is a sure bulwark to resting in Christ.

The important role of the Law in the catechism  — somewhat ironic, given the focus on comfort — is often overlooked. It is the Law in the form of Christ’s summary of Matthew 22 that instructs us in the magnitude of our sin and misery, with its jarring conclusion that we all have a natural tendency to hate God and neighbor. Not a common theme in evangelical preaching these days, but this realistic view of human sin is the foundation to a biblical worldview.

Tonight’s lesson is the conclusion of the catechism’s second treatment of the law, which comes from catechism’s third part. Here the catechism teaches from the Ten commandments and the Lord’s Prayer to set forth the nature of the good works that are an appropriate expression of our gratitude to God for our deliverance.

This life of gratitude is a life of constant repentence, characterized by the dying of the old self and the coming to life of the new.  This is the pattern of Christ described by Paul in our text, the pattern that is our through our union with him as we share in his dying and in his new life. A pattern which, though accomplished by the preaching of the law, liberates us from the bondage of the Law. We genuinely mourn for our sins even as we delight in God, in his righteousness, in his holy will, precisely because it no longer condemns us. We truly rejoice in showering our neighbor with good works — even in secret, where nobody sees them — precisely because we no longer are seeking to earn our salvation by them. Such liberty! To be free from condemnation. Such joy! To draw near to the all-holy creator of the universe with boldness, clothed in salvation’s holy garments.

Yet our comfort is elusive until Mortification is final. Our Old Man — a prosecuting lawyer by trade — lives on within us. This old man desires nothing more than to justify himself before God, he wants to stand on his own two feet, contribute his two cents, show how much he really cares. The only offering that he delights in is one he produces on his own. Surely, his natural powers are not so corrupt? Surely, hatred of God and neighbor is not all he can muster? But the Law slays him, in part or in whole, in summary or in detail. Yes, the Law slays him. Not one single command can he perfectly fulfill, for not even a moment.

And this function of the Law is so clearly set forth in today’s lesson, which explains why the “strict preaching of the Law” is so crucial to our Christian comfort. In other words, the clarity which you present the Gospel always depends upon the strictness and clarity with which you present the Law.

The Tenth Commandment

Listen to the catechism: “What does the tenth commandment require of us? That even the smallest inclination or thought contrary to any of God’s commandments never rise in our hearts, but that at all times we hate all sin with our whole heart and delight in all righteousness.” Did you hear that? “smallest inclination or thought… never rise in our hearts.” Do not be deceived. For you and me this is impossible. Not only must you show honor to your parents and all in authority, you should never even consider how you may not. Not only should you not kill or act hatefully against your neighbor, or lustily conceive of various ways to do so, the thought shouldn’t cross your mind. Men, this means you shouldn’t even have to think about where your gaze shouldn’t linger. The truth should rise so naturally in your thoughts and words that lying is inconceivable — even if you wanted to lie you wouldn’t have one at hand. Always and everywhere you would seek to heap goods upon your neighbor, and upon his good name.

So, when you think of the tenth commandment, you should think of all commandments, particularly the second table, and you should think that their goal is what Calvin called “a soul entirely pervaded with love, any feeling of an adverse nature being banished from your mind.”The tenth commandment is indeed a summary and interpretation of the whole. Not only is it sinful to actually kill your neighbor, not only is it sinful to contemplate with joy such killing, but it is sinful to even have the thought cross your mind, to have the hatred rise up which leads to the contemplation which leads to the killing.

How often does the lawyer within us reflect of wicked thoughts we have conceived, but not fully executed. These wicked plans not executed are even a source of pride — We consider cutting in front of the lineup on the interstate, and then smugly note how patiently we wait our turn in line. This distinction between the almost unconscious impulse to do harm to our neighbor, and the willing denial or embrace of the impulse is deeply ingrained in our sense of self-righteousness.

Sin, we are sure, is intentional and willing. It is the decision to pursue a course of action that is wrong, not the mere conception of the course of action. Think on the age of innocence, or age of decision, that convinces so many that little babes are pure innocence.

Indeed, the Roman Catholic church built a significant part of its moral theology upon the distinction that such lusts — concupiscence — were not sins unless embraced and pursued. Understanding human sinfulness in terms of total depravity, as taught by Reformation Christianity, is a response to this teaching.

Yes, this is a strict interpretation of God’s law, and so very demanding. So much so that our catechism feels compelled to defend the “strict preaching” of the law — not only frequently, but rigorously. It’s not enough to moralize weekly from the pulpit, which is a sort of (twisted) law preaching. When Reformed Christians preach the law, they ought to do so rigorously, and strictly, that is, in such away that removes all hope of fulfilling it. This preaching is not directly intended as a goad to greater obedience — though it accomplishes this — but it does so by acting as a slaying force, weakening that old self and thereby strengthening faith and charity in the new.

Christ and the Law

This is how Christ interpreted the ten commandments… and it wasn’t new. Christ’s rigorous teaching was scriptural teaching.

Honor those in Authority:

Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's.

Murder:

Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment: But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.

Adultery:

but I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.

Stealing:

Luke 3:14 And the soldiers likewise demanded of him, saying, And what shall we do? And he said unto them, Do violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely; and be content with your wages.

False Witness:

Matt.7:1 Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again… [do we, in the words of the catechism, “defend and promote, as much as I am able, the horror and good character of my neighbour.”?]

The unoriginal nature of Christ’s preaching of the law is crucial, Calvin notes, because the Old Man so desperately wants a lawgiving Christ. If the Genius of Jesus was in bringing a new law, clarifying, living out, fulfilling the law as example…now that’s a popular Jesus. Jesus the wise man, Jesus who shows the way, lives the way. This is a comfortable savior, one who tells us what to do to make our lives better. Faced with a difficult question? Just ask What Would Jesus Do.

No, Christ was no innovator when it came to the Law. His only innovation was in tearing down the laws of human creation, laws of mere externals, sacred cows, that were in fact a watered down law, a law without teeth. Christ’s innovation was faithfulness to the Ten Words in their original meaning.

The rigor of the catechism is no more than the rigor of Christ. But we get ahead of ourselves. Earlier, the catechism used Christ’s summary of the Law in Matthew 22 to teach us of our sin and misery. Can we love God and neighbor perfectly? No, I have a natural tendency to hate God and my neighbor. Now the catechism concludes it’s second treatment of the law, it’s treatment of the ten commandments, by asking a slightly different question:

Question 114. But can those who are converted to God perfectly keep these commandments?

Answer: No: but even the holiest men, while in this life, have only a small beginning of this obedience; yet so, that with a sincere resolution they begin to live, not only according to some, but all the commandments of God.

Question 115. Why will God then have the ten commandments so strictly preached, since no man in this life can keep them?

Answer: First, that all our lifetime we may learn more and more to know our sinful nature, and thus become the more earnest in seeking the remission of sin, and righteousness in Christ; likewise, that we constantly endeavour and pray to God for the grace of the Holy Spirit, that we may become more and more conformable to the image of God, till we arrive at the perfection proposed to us, in a life to come.

And here is the genius of the catechism, it’s genius in grasping the Law in its purity, recognizing what it tells us about sinful human nature, and fleeing wholly and completely to the Gospel for comfort. Why preach a law, the world says, that no one can obey? How could God require, says Pelagius, that which we cannot fulfill? Laws are for doing. Laws are for obeying. What good is an impossible law for me?

The catechism here clarifies what it taught earlier about our sin and misery, namely that it isn’t merely a relic of our unconverted past. Even the holiest of the converted make but a small beginning of obedience. We are not instantly liberated from our bodies of sinful flesh, a liberation Paul yearned for with some ambivalence.

Christ is the End of the Law

What has changed, however, is our relation to the law. We have died to it in Christ, and it no longer has power to condemn us. We have been released from its bondage. Raised with Christ, we serve it in newness of spirit, and this is why the catechism says that we now have a sincere resolution to begin to live according to all the commandments of God.

What good indeed. Paul, following the pattern of Jesus, had great use for such a law: “For through the Law comes knowledge of sin.” “I would not have come to know sin,” he tells us, “except through the Law.”It is no mistake that when Paul refers to the law in Romans 7, he uses the 10th commandment, “for I would not have known about coveting if the Law had not said, “You shall not covet.”

Paul was the holiest of men. He, more than any of us, left family and home, even the religious establishment of his youthful training, to follow Christ and proclaim his gospel. Yet he sincerely acknowledged himself the chief of all sinners. Looking in the mirror of the law, he saw himself doing that which he hated, that which he didn’t even want to do, in an important sense. Confessing the good, he nevertheless did what was evil, because sin was dwelling in him — not in one part or another, but in his very fibers. The converted Paul could only conclude: “I find then the principle that evil is present in me, the one who wishes to do good.” He beheld a war which he could not win, even having been freed from the bondage of the Law, even indwelled by the spirit, even loving God and his law, he was a part of a war that he could not win.

Did Paul win any battles in this war? Did he make a small beginning in holiness? Did he begin to live according to not just one or two of the commandments, but each and every one of them, in some little way? Yes, of course he did, and so does each one that confesses Christ Lord. So Paul confesses and so the catechism teaches. But the question at hand is not whether by God’s grace we perform good works that he prepared beforehand. We grant that. Rather, the question is whether this Law is not primarily still a mirror whereby we might grasp our emptiness.

What, at the end of the day, did this small beginning in holiness matter? What fundamental change did it bring about in his relation to the righteousness of God, or of Christ? What source of glory?

From beginning to end, then, the catechism has this single focus in dealing with the Law — that it is the one and only place we are to look if we are to rightly know our sin, both before and after conversion. Accurate and faithful preaching of the Law can lead to only one conclusion, the conclusion of Paul:

Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death?

You seek maturity as a Christian? The catechism describes it perfectly: “all our lifetime we may learn more and more to know our sinful nature, and thus become the more earnest in seeking the remission of sin, and righteousness in Christ; likewise, that we constantly endeavour and pray to God for the grace of the Holy Spirit, that we may become more and more conformable to the image of God, till we arrive at the perfection proposed to us, in a life to come.”

Paul’s maturity as a disciple of Christ is measured in his cry, “wretched man that I am! Chief of all sinners.” A cry that he uttered, I propose, with some regularity. A cry that reminds us not only of the young Luther, but the old. This is the cry of faith, the cry of the publican beating his breast. And which man went home forgiven?

Brothers and sisters, hear the just sentence of the law, and become more earnest in seeking the remission of sin. Are you worried about this week’s incremental gain in holiness? You must have no conception of the mountain you have to climb. Read the catechism on the law, and examine your very thoughts, the very lusts of your heart, and come to know your sinful nature better.

This is not to deny the import of our sanctification, but to recognize that we are utterly humbled by the task, and to properly identify the god-given means by which it takes place. Namely, mortification by God’s spirit working in the Word. And quickening as we are united in Christ.

And when you are truly struck by your wickedness, seek the remission of your sin. It is there for you, in Christ. And lift the sorrow from your heart by praying for the grace of the Holy Spirit —  it is here for you — by which you will become more and more conformed to the image of God.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain. Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.

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