Chapter LXVI: Antinomian Errors Regarding the Covenant of Grace
A Modest Survey of the
Secrets of Antinomianism
by Samuel Rutherford
Professor of Divinity in the University of St. Andrews, Scotland
Being Part II of A Survey of the Spiritual Antichrist
Modernized and Abridged
With a New Introduction
"Every spirit that does not confess Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is not from God. This is the spirit of the Antichrist."
— 1 John 4:3
"For false christs and false prophets will arise and perform great signs and wonders, so as to lead astray—even the elect, if that were possible."
— Matthew 24:24
Printed in London, 1648
By J. D. & R. I. for Andrew Crooke, and available at his shop at the Green Dragon in Paul’s Churchyard.
Table of Contents
Chapter I: Antinomians Unjustly Accuse Us
Chapter II: Antinomians Are Pelagians
Chapter IV: On Whether the Desire for Grace Is Grace
Chapter V: How We Are Freed from the Law—and How We Are Not
Chapter VI: How the Command of the Law Obligates Us
Chapter VII: How the Law and the Gospel Require the Same Obedience
Chapter VIII: On the Promises of the Law and the True Differences Between the Two Covenants
Chapter IX: On the Threatenings of the Law and the Gospel
Chapter XI: Law-Fear and Gospel-Faith Are Consistent
Chapter XII: Antinomians Deny Actual Pardon of Sins to the Jews
Chapter XIII: On the Minority (Nonage) of the Jews—What It Was
Chapter XIV: Antinomians Say the Old Man Is Under the Law, the New Man Is Above All Law
Chapter XV: Antinomians Claim the Justified Only Sin Before Men, Not Before God or in Conscience
Chapter XVI: Antinomians Mistake Justification as the Eradication of Sin
Chapter XVII: Christ Was Not Formally a Sinner, Contrary to Antinomian Claims
Chapter XVIII: Justification Occurs Only Through Faith—Not Before We Believe
Chapter XIX: God's Love of Good Will and Good Pleasure—a Valid Distinction
Chapter XX: Justification Brings a Real Change in Our State
Chapter XXI: We Do Not Mix Works with Grace in Justification
Chapter XXII: Antinomians Deny the Presence of Sin in the Justified
Chapter XXIII: Antinomians Claim That to Faith There Is No Sin
Chapter XXIV: Faith's Reign Is Not Absolute, as Antinomians Claim
Chapter XXV: Refuting the Antinomian Claim That God Sees No Sin in the Justified
Chapter XXVI: Confession Is Required of Believers
Chapter XXVII: The Law Must Still Be Preached to Believers
Chapter XXVIII: Strict and Precise Walking: A Necessary and Commanded Gospel Duty
Chapter XXIX God Is Truly Angry with the Sins of the Elect and Believers
Chapter XXX: The Justified Are Accountable to God for Sin
Chapter XXXI God Punishes Sin in Believers
Chapter XXXII: Believers Are to Mourn for Sin
Chapter XXXIII Antinomians Deny the Need for Believers to Confess or Sense Sin
Chapter XXXIV Antinomians Claim We May Believe Without Humiliation or Repentance
Chapter XXXV True Spiritual Poverty and How Antinomians Misunderstand It
Chapter XXXVI Repentance Misunderstood by Antinomians
Chapter XXXVII How Good Works Are Necessary
Chapter XXXVIII The Gospel Is Conditional
Chapter XXXIX: On Mortification
Chapter XL: Antinomians Teach That Believers and Their Works Are Completely Perfect
Chapter XLI: Antinomians Claim We Are Already as Saved as the Glorified in Heaven
Chapter XLII: Our Blessedness Is Found in Sanctification as Well as Justification
Chapter XLIII: Antinomians Undermine Sanctification
Chapter XLIV: Antinomians Claim All Doubting Is Inconsistent with Faith
Chapter XLV: Antinomians, Not Protestants, Are the True Merit-Mongers
Chapter XLVI: That There Is Inherent Grace in the Saints, Beyond God's Favor Toward Them
Chapter XLVII: That We Are Not Mere Passive Instruments in the Spirit's Work of Sanctification
Chapter XLVIII: Antinomians Claim That Believers Cannot Sin Against God—Only Against Men
Chapter L: How We Are Freed from the Law in Sanctification as in Justification
Chapter LI: Antinomians Ignorant of the Jewish Law-Service and of Gospel Obedience
Chapter LIV: What Peace We May Derive from Gracious Performances
Chapter LVI How Duties and Delight in Them Do Not Take Us Off from Christ
Chapter. LVII: Of the Liberty Which Christ Has Purchased for Us by His Death
Chapter LIX. Justification as a Single Act, Yet Sins are Daily Forgiven
Chapter LX: On Whether Sins Are Forgiven Before They Are Committed, and the Antinomian Error
Chapter: LXI: How Faith Justifies, and the Antinomian Error Exposed
Chapter: LXII: The Antinomians' Method of a Sinner's Coming to Christ, Refuted
Chapter: LXIII. We need the Law's direction—Law and Spirit are not contrary but work together.
Chapter: LXIV: Antinomian Distinctions Between Law and Gospel Refuted
Chapter: LXV The Gospel: A Rare Covenant of Grace
Chapter LXVI: Antinomian Errors Regarding the Covenant of Grace
Chapter LXVII: On Legal and Evangelical Conversion
Chapter LXVIII: How the Spirit Works Freely—Misunderstood by Antinomians
Chapter LXIX The Lifeless and Counterfeit Faith of the Antinomians
Chapter LXX: Faith Not the Only Work of the Gospel, as Antinomians Claim
Chapter LXXI: The Justified Do Not Obey God by Necessity of Nature, as Antinomians Claim
Chapter LXXII: Glorifying God Through Sanctification Is Essential
Chapter LXXIII: Sanctification, as well as Justification, Makes a Saint
Chapter LXXIV: The Harmony Between Old Libertines, Familists, and Antinomians
Chapter LXXVI: How Libertines and Antinomians Undermine Scripture and Exalt the Spirit Above All
Chapter: LXXVII. Antinomians and Libertines: Corrupt Opinions about God and the Origin of Sin
Chapter LXXVIII: Libertines and Antinomians Eliminate Remorse for Sin
Chapter LXXIX: Libertines and Antinomians Compare Believers with Christ Incarnate
Chapter LXXX: Libertines and Antinomians Teach That Following Inner Sense Is the Only Rule of Life
Chapter LXXXII: Libertines and Antinomians Doubt the Resurrection and the Life to Come
Chapter LXXXV: Libertines and Antinomians Draw Near One Another in Making God the Author of Sin
Chapter LXXXVI: Libertines and Antinomians Argue We Should Do Nothing, Since God Does Everything
Chapter LXXXVII: Antinomians Accuse Us of Reducing the Spirit's Work to Moral Philosophy
Chapter LXXXIX: Antinomians Are Ignorant of True Faith, Believing Their Sins Are No Sins at All
Chapter XC: Antinomians Remove the Obligation of Obedience from Both the Converted and Unconverted
Chapter XCI: How, and for Whom, Christ Intercedes in Heaven
Chapter XCII: Antinomians Promote Assurance but Deny Dependent Faith
Chapter XCIII: Antinomians Deny the Law as an Instrument of Sanctification
Introduction
In the 1640s, Samuel Rutherford—a Scottish pastor, theologian, and Westminster divine—took up his pen to defend the gospel of Jesus Christ from distortions that threatened the spiritual life of the church. Among the most serious of these was Antinomianism, a teaching that claimed Christians are no longer bound by God’s moral law and therefore ought not to be burdened by guilt, repentance, or the pursuit of holiness.
This book, originally the second half of Rutherford’s larger work A Survey of the Spiritual Antichrist, addresses the practical and doctrinal errors of Antinomianism with clarity, warmth, and conviction. While the first part focused heavily on historical controversies, theological figures, and printed exchanges, Part II contains the heart of Rutherford’s pastoral and theological refutation, making it well suited for modern readers.
What Is Antinomianism?
Rutherford defines Antinomianism as a rejection of the moral law of God as binding on believers. The name itself comes from the Greek: anti (against) + nomos (law). Antinomians taught that, since Christ has fulfilled the law and believers are justified by grace, Christians are now free from any obligation to obey God’s commandments. For them, calls to repentance, sorrow for sin, or obedience to Christ were seen as legalistic or even contrary to faith.
But Rutherford insists, following the Scriptures, that the moral law still has a necessary and life-giving role in the believer’s life—not as a means of earning favor with God, but as a rule of gratitude and sanctification. “The law,” he writes, “is not the cause of life, but the path of the living.”
Law and Gospel: A Necessary Distinction
Throughout Part I, Rutherford distinguishes between:
The moral law: God’s eternal rule of righteousness, revealed in the Ten Commandments, which remains binding on all people as the standard of holy living.
The law of faith: The gospel of grace, by which sinners are justified through faith in Jesus Christ apart from works of the law.
Rutherford is careful not to confuse the law and the gospel—but neither does he divide them. While the law cannot save, it remains the guide by which the saved walk in thankfulness and holiness. Antinomians, in rejecting the law entirely, end up undermining the very gospel they claim to uphold.
He warns that such teaching leads to moral laxity, spiritual delusion, and contempt for the commands of Christ. Faith that produces no obedience is, in Rutherford’s words, a “lifeless and corrupt faith.”
Why This Part Still Matters
The chapters that follow contain Rutherford’s most focused engagement with the errors of Antinomianism. He writes with the soul of a pastor, not merely a polemicist. His aim is not simply to expose error, but to defend the beauty of true faith: a faith that rests on Christ alone and yet, by the Spirit, bears the fruit of holiness.
Readers will find in these pages a wise and zealous guide, anchored in Scripture, urging the church to uphold the full gospel—where justification is by faith alone, and yet that faith is never alone, but works through love (Gal. 5:6).
J. W. H.
A Brotherly and Free Epistle
To the Patrons and Friends of the So-Called Liberty of Conscience
By Samuel Rutherford
It is difficult to determine whether the Church of Christ suffers more from enemies within—her own brethren—or from strangers outside her walls. Sadly, many sincere believers have been swept away by the teachings of Familism, Antinomianism, and other novel errors. The people are like restless seas, and teachers rise among them like turbulent winds.
Though I have been silent for a time, I now speak because I see a troubling imbalance: when even minor political offenses are deemed intolerable, yet gross heresies and blasphemies are tolerated as mere “opinions” or “spiritual insights,” even praised as evidence of godliness. To speak against these errors is to risk being accused of blaspheming the Holy Spirit. For this reason, I must bear witness to the truth. Silence is no virtue here—it does not cleanse the hands, but stains the conscience with the blood of deceived souls.
Let me speak clearly: I do not aim to wound the truly godly or to oppose holiness. If I have lifted pen or hand against sincere believers, let my arm wither and my tongue be silenced. But I cannot remain quiet when grave errors threaten the purity and peace of Christ’s Church.
I do not justify those who, under the pretense of truth, attack the personal weaknesses of the saints, as if holiness and sinlessness were identical. Even Judas, the traitor, held to sound doctrine, while Peter stumbled in both word and action. We must not divide over minor matters, even if there is some truth in them. Yet it is folly—not Christian charity—to open our hearts to every form of heresy under the name of godliness. To accept Familists, Antinomians, Arminians, and Arians as fellow believers, while condemning faithful Presbyterians as reprobates merely for being Scottish, is to turn truth on its head.
Mr. Henry Burton has publicly labeled the Scots as the vilest of men, associating them with traitors and rebels. He accuses them of seeking dominion and undermining Parliament. He even attacks the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, comparing its authority to that of the Pope, and falsely charges me with teaching that its decisions are infallible, and that nonconformity brings imprisonment, banishment, and more. He claims that such authority is Antichristian tyranny and a threat to English liberty.
In what follows, I will answer these charges carefully and plainly, without resorting to slander or personal attacks. Let truth speak for itself.
If any truth ceases to be truth merely because it is held by the Church of Scotland, then must we conclude that those who live in the warmer, richer lands of South Britain possess a better Christ? As if God's presence grows in well-tended gardens, like those of Egypt. But religion does not take its shape or color from geography or nationality. England and Scotland differ not in nature, but only in external circumstances. And when we come to the heavenly Jerusalem, we shall not stand nearer to Christ’s throne based on whether we are English or Scottish.
Though Mr. Burton compares Scotland to Egypt, let it be remembered that we have not lifted our hand against our brethren, but rather, by God’s help, are the reason Mr. Burton and others breathe freely in England today. Mr. Burton himself once said we were like Judah helping the ten tribes, resisting their taskmasters. Back then, our General Assembly was “comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.” But now, he calls it a “papal throne” and compares us to Babylon. Can a fountain yield both sweet and bitter water? These contradictions should not be.
Even if we were Egypt or Assyria—as Mr. Burton suggests—Isaiah 19 declares that Egypt shall speak the language of Canaan and swear by the Lord. And in chapter 19:24, he says, “In that day shall Israel be the third with Egypt and Assyria, even a blessing in the midst of the earth.” So let it not trouble us if we are called such names. But I fear that the Familists, Antinomians, Arminians, and Socinians—whom Mr. Burton calls the “saints”—may not prove to be the true Israel of God.
We care little that Mr. Burton judges us “the vilest of men,” or accuses us of rebellion and tyranny under the name of Presbyterianism.
For first, Mr. Burton is only a man—and one who speaks from the flesh. He has already changed his mind at least three times concerning church government and toleration of heresy. A man who changes three times may change again and again.
But if our doctrine must be judged by human witnesses, I would rather appeal to the testimony of such men as Calvin, Beza, Cartwright, Brightman, and other English lights—Dod, Hildersham, Dearing, Greenham, Perkins, Baynes, Pemble, Ames, Sibbes, and Preston. I also include Scottish ministers now with the Lord: Knox, Bruce, Welch, and others. If they lived today, they would oppose your separation, your toleration of all errors, and your indifference to truth. You embrace Antinomians, Familists, Socinians, Arminians, Arians, and Anabaptists—not because you refute them, but because you say nothing against them. To you, to speak against their errors is to persecute the saints.
You and others like you pour all your energy into attacking Presbyterians, the Scots, the Assembly of Divines, and Zion College. You call them Egypt, Babylon, and tyrants over conscience. You plead for liberty for every sect and error, while never once acknowledging the harm they do to the souls of men. You treat them as the only true godly ones, though their books—filled with heresies—are never retracted. Meanwhile, you offer no correction, but instead defend them as innocent in press and pulpit.
If “liberty of conscience” can be defended alongside Antinomianism, Arminianism, and Socinianism as consistent with godliness and sainthood—then why are Presbyterians excluded from the fellowship of the saints? Should not the same spirit of meekness be extended to us?
Why is it not considered persecution to fine, imprison, exclude, or slander Presbyterians—yet if we oppose toleration of heresy, we are branded with venomous names: Antichristian, Popish, tyrannical, and bloodthirsty? You owe more to us, under God, for your liberties, estates, peace, and victory than to any sect in England. While the nation was rushing headlong toward spiritual Babylon, these sects were silent and inactive. They made no stand, offered no resistance, nor raised the sword of the Lord. But now they boast as if they had slain their thousands and ten thousands.
It is unjust for Mr. Dell to claim that if the Assembly of Divines reject his teachings, they are enemies of Christ’s truth and the last stronghold of Antichrist. Such accusations are slanderous and more akin to persecution by the tongue than any I have known. Are we to be condemned as enemies of Christ simply because we cannot force our consciences to embrace the blasphemies of men like Henry Nicholas?
In those critical days, the sects gave weak encouragement to their brethren in a just and necessary war—the defense of the gospel. The "sword of Gideon" was in their hands nothing more than a straw. They were absent from the battlefield, and history will not forget who first stirred the chariot wheels of Christ in Britain and who first called the people back from Babylon. Partial and dishonest accounts cannot hide the truth known throughout the Christian world.
You accuse us of maintaining antitoleration not out of weakness or misguided zeal (as you say the saints do in their errors), but out of malice and a desire to impose our views by force. That is an unfair and uncharitable judgment. Why should you insist on interpreting your own errors as "weakness" and ours as "wickedness"? If you expect mercy and patience for yourselves, should you not extend at least a measure of charity toward others?
We do not call for persecution when we oppose toleration for those who reject the unity of the faith and promote dangerous errors—Socinians, Anabaptists, Familists, Antinomians, Arians, Arminians, and other such groups. We believe these are not merely misguided opinions but serious spiritual threats that dishonor Christ and undermine true religion. If the civil magistrate has authority to punish outward crimes like adultery and theft, why should he not restrain spiritual whoredom and doctrinal perversion—especially when such errors are taught to others?
False teachers are evildoers (Rom. 13:3–4), evil workers (Phil. 3:2), and the apostles forbid receiving them into Christian fellowship (2 John 10). Under the reign of Christ, when the Spirit is poured out, the prophet says such false prophets shall be “thrust through” for speaking lies in God’s name (Zech. 13). We are persuaded in conscience that antitoleration is not persecution but truth, and so do the godly in the churches of New England believe with us.
If we are wrong, then refute us with sound reasoning, not with slander. Do not try to shame us with terms like “Antichristians” and “tyrants over conscience.” That is the worst kind of coercion—persecution by the tongue. Such weapons are no less harmful than the sword.
And finally, let your conscience bear witness: did any among you counsel, in private or public, for an army to be raised against your brethren in Scotland—those who laid down their lives for your peace, liberty, and religion? If so, may God judge rightly between us.
We are falsely accused of forcing our opinions on others’ consciences. Our actions and conduct since arriving in England stand as proof against this charge. God is our witness—we never intended to impose church government through force or arms. We believe, however, that Rev. Burton and the people of England are bound by their solemn covenant to receive the form of government most aligned with God’s Word and the example of the best Reformed churches. This includes a duty to preserve the Reformed religion of Scotland in doctrine, worship, discipline, and government, resisting our shared enemies.
If Mr. Burton took the covenant oath, then by that oath he is bound to uphold what he now calls tyrannical and antichristian—namely, Presbyterian government. If he now preaches and writes that such government is worse than Popery or Babylon, he violates both the letter and spirit of that covenant.
It is not enough to defend Presbyterianism only against bishops and prelates (the “common enemy”) while undermining it with his words and writings elsewhere. Preachers, especially, must defend the truth by proclaiming it openly and faithfully. To call Presbyterianism tyrannical while claiming to support it is a contradiction.
If our brethren swore the covenant in sincerity, why have they sought to destroy rather than defend the Reformed religion in Scotland? Their actions promote heresies that directly oppose sound doctrine. If they meant to promote tolerance for every error under the guise of liberty of conscience—while rejecting Presbyterians, whom they are bound to support—then history and the Judge of all the earth will hold them accountable.
We who sacrificed ourselves for their peace and liberty are now forsaken, even hated. Some sectarians openly say they would rather fight the Scots than the Turks. May the earth not cover our blood. May the Judge of all rise up and plead the cause of the oppressed.
If those who swore the covenant had openly stated, “We intend to tolerate Popery, Arminianism, Familism, and all manner of heresy and schism, but not to tolerate Presbyterians,” at least we would have known their true intent. But their actions now betray such a purpose.
Mr. Burton claims the Scots are “the vilest of men,” accusing them of being murderers, rebels, traitors, and enemies of Parliament and city alike. But such inflammatory speech—harsh as iron, not persuasive as truth—does little to edify or convince. Truth, like fire, enlightens; but fiery passion without truth only burns. These are not the words of one who wages spiritual war under Christ’s banner of love. Harsh rhetoric often covers a weak case.
Once, we were praised in your writings, counted as talents of gold. Now, we’re treated as worthless, merely because we continue to profess what we always have—Presbyterian doctrine and unity with you in the faith. Brothers, be humble. Do not betray your former friends out of resentment. To reject us is to play lightly with sacred vows. The Covenant you once swore will bear witness against any who seek to destroy it. Now that you have the sword, the wealth, the Army, and Parliament on your side, do not use your strength to trample your brethren.
Remember: those who stand proud in victory may soon be humbled. Success does not make a cause just. Heresy, though it may gain ground and popular favor, is still heresy. Yes, sects now thrive and are widely welcomed—even supported by those who mock Presbyterians as “Antichristian.” But favor from the crowd is no guarantee of truth.
Your victories may lull you into complacency, but they cannot protect you from divine justice. In Scotland, we have borne hardship for your sake without complaint. And though we are maligned, we are not what you accuse. The Scots are not vile, nor are they murderers. Rather, we believe there are many in England—across all ranks—who are wise, noble, faithful, and godly. And when Christ returns to deliver the kingdom to the Father, I am confident many of your nation will stand with Him as His treasured possession.
Instead of labeling the whole by the worst among us, as Mr. Burton has done with the Scots, let us judge with charity. Yes, there is sin and worldliness in both nations and in both armies—but let those without sin cast the first stone. If this test were applied, I fear some Antinomians might be the first to stone others—claiming, ironically, that their violence is not sin at all.
We confess: merely being “orthodox” or a committed Presbyterian is not enough to bring anyone to heaven. Saving grace must go deeper. But this admission does not prove the Presbyterian way is false or tyrannical. Rather, it shows that external profession must be joined with inward transformation—a truth we uphold, not deny.
Mr. Burton accuses the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland of being “Papal” and exalting itself above kings and emperors, supposedly putting Presbyterians in danger of legal prosecution. But what arguments does he give? None of his own. Instead, he borrows and republishes the recycled accusations of the old Prelates and anti-Reformation writers—especially from a discredited tract called Issachar’s Burden, written by the excommunicated apostate, John Maxwell, once the so-called Bishop of Ross.
Mr. Burton offers no fresh reasoning, only an echo of men like Whitegift, Bancroft, and Spotswood—men who flattered kings and bishops to preserve their power. These same slanders were once used more vehemently by the enemies of the Scottish Reformation than Burton uses now. The book of Church Discipline, once hated by the Prelates, is now under attack by Mr. Burton using their very weapons—drawn from the arsenal of spiritual Babylon.
I do not wish to compare man with man, but let me name one worthy servant of Christ, Mr. John Welch, a faithful pastor of our Church. He was condemned to death, along with six other ministers, for standing by this very cause. King James later changed the sentence to banishment. In France, where Welch ministered in exile, he preached daily and saw many converted. The King of France, when Welch’s town was taken in war—just as the pastor had prophetically warned—gave orders for his protection, much like the king of Babylon once did for Jeremiah.
It is known from godly witnesses that Welch spent eight of every twenty-four hours in prayer, unless preaching or ministry called him. He interceded constantly for the suffering Church in Scotland, England, and France. While in prison, he responded to the accusations of treason and to the charges against the Aberdeen Assembly—charges now repeated by Mr. Burton—with this testimony:
“Who am I, that God should call me and make me a minister of the gospel for sixteen years, and now a sufferer for his cause and kingdom? I testify that Jesus Christ is King of the saints, and his Church is a most free kingdom—as free as any under heaven—not only to gather and hold assemblies, but also to govern her affairs independently among her members.”
These two truths—first, that Christ is the only head of his Church; second, that the Church is free in her government from all other earthly jurisdictions—were the reasons for his imprisonment. He and his fellow ministers were condemned as traitors for defending these very doctrines, yet they awaited the possibility of martyrdom with joy. Welch declared:
“These truths, and all that belongs to Christ’s crown and kingdom, are subject to no authority but his own. I would count it an honor to give my life for so glorious a truth.”
He further stated that the guilt for their condemnation rested not only on the prince, but on those church leaders—bishops, counselors, and commissioners—who stirred the king against them. He held them accountable, and also those who remained silent or cried “peace, peace” while strengthening the hands of the wicked and grieving the hearts of the righteous. All such, he said, were guilty—not only of his blood—but of treason against the Lord Jesus Christ, his crown, and his kingdom.
Let me appeal directly to the sincere conscience of Mr. Burton, who speaks in his Dialogue:
Does he not find more of the Spirit of Christ in this one letter—if he reads it carefully—than in all the bitter and slanderous writings he has published against his brethren, who, when he was suffering, interceded for him in prayer, grieved for him as one mourns at a mother’s grave, and stood by him?
Has he and his allies, by opposing the Assembly of Divines and siding with the Erastian party, not provoked both Prince and Parliament in both kingdoms to commit a national sin—namely, attempting to enslave the free kingdom of Christ to the powers of the world? And in so doing, are they not following the pattern of those who build the tombs of the prophets while shedding the blood of Christ’s living witnesses?
Will a mere distinction help them at God’s judgment seat—that they opposed the Presbyterian government out of hatred, siding with Erastians against Christ and his truth, while secretly holding to Presbyterian principles in their own minds?
They knew well that the central question between Erastians and Presbyterians was whether Christ’s Church possesses a spiritual government distinct from civil authority. Yet, to oppose their Scottish brethren, they aligned with Erastus against Christ. But since then, God has humbled the sects in the eyes of the godly in this land, and I trust will continue to abase their pride.
Mr. Burton claims that giving spiritual authority to the General Assembly above Parliament violates England’s laws and incurs a praemunire charge. But so do the Erastians claim. And Mr. Burton surely knows this is not the actual issue. In fact, his congregationalism implies an even greater legal conflict.
For:
His view leaves Parliament with no authority in church matters—no right to judge doctrine or punish heresy—as if they had no souls. He writes (Conformity Deformity, p.14), “If Christ gave any such power to the state, then also to a Popish state.” But this is a false conclusion. Christ has never given any state authority to enact wicked laws or endorse false religion. Yet he has called Christian magistrates to bring their glory into the New Jerusalem, to be nursing fathers to the Church, and to ensure that Christ’s bride receives pure spiritual nourishment. To deny this is like saying: “Because God gave no king the right to butcher his people, therefore he gave no king the right to rule in justice.”
Our Independent brethren impose a far more severe legal contradiction on themselves. If they spoke plainly, they would admit they do not recognize this Parliament—or any magistrate—as legitimately Christian unless he is also a member of one of their own congregations, that is, someone they deem to be regenerate. If they had their way, barely one in twenty among today’s Parliament members, judges, or magistrates would qualify for office. That is the underlying reality of their position.
You may say I slander them—that they pray for Parliament as a Parliament and obey the King and Justices of the Peace as lawful magistrates.
I answer: yes, they do pray for them—but in the same way they would have prayed for Nero or Domitian—as lawful magistrates, but not as Christian magistrates. In their view, these rulers are outside the Church, no different than heathens. So, let the world judge the consistency of those who argue for civil authority (even that of "unconverted" rulers) to be above a free General Assembly, while at the same time they refuse to acknowledge any such authority over one of their own congregations—even if it consists of only seven members.
They deeply distrust any kind of General Assembly exercising authority. But suppose all the churches in England were Independent. These same men would not baptize the children of most members of Parliament, nor of the King himself, because they see them as outside the Church—not being members of their congregations. Nor would they admit such people to the Lord’s Supper, considering them no better than Ethiopians or pagans. And if the Parliament or Justices tried to challenge them for this, they would reply: “You who are outside the Church have no authority to judge the Church or its administration of ordinances.” Judge for yourself—if this isn’t placing the authority of a congregation of seven above that of the entire Parliament, the very thing Mr. Burton criticizes in Presbyterian Assemblies.
It’s also seen as a fault that the General Assembly has power to make rules—according to God’s Word—for governing church members and abolishing harmful ecclesiastical statutes, even without the civil magistrate. But the Jerusalem Council did the same, setting rules that would have bound Caesar, had he been a believing ruler like Constantine. And though our Assemblies do not claim authority to make or unmake Acts of Parliament (as Mr. Burton wrongly asserts), they do, as ministers of Christ, have the right to declare and preach that such Acts—if they establish false worship like the Mass—are unlawful and ungodly. They can pronounce woes upon unjust laws, as Isaiah 10:1 commands.
Otherwise, if Mr. Burton preaches against such laws himself, is he not then, by his own standard, guilty of setting himself above the Parliament? Is he not acting as a kind of Pope, placing himself in authority over the nation by declaring Parliament’s statutes ungodly? Surely not. And neither is the General Assembly guilty of tyranny for doing the same.
When a Synod or Church gathers in Christ’s name and binds according to the Word of God (as in Matthew 18), there can be no lawful appeal to a civil court—not because ministers are above men, but because they act in Christ’s name. What they bind on earth, Christ binds in heaven. There is no appeal beyond a faithful pastor speaking Christ’s truth, for Christ Himself says, “He who hears you hears me.” This poses no threat of tyranny or legal breach. It is simply the Church exercising her God-given authority.
Objection: Mr. Rutherford says that the decisions of a General Assembly bind even those who are absent.
Answer: Yes—and so says the Holy Spirit. The churches in Antioch, Syria, and Cilicia were bound to receive and obey the decrees of the Synod, even though they were not present (Acts 15:22–29; 16:4; 21:25). Just as those who despise the teaching of faithful pastors—living or dead—despise Christ, so are churches today bound by the biblical authority of such assemblies. This is affirmed by Mr. Cotton and the churches of New England. If, as Mr. Burton claims, this is "setting up a Papal throne," then he must charge not only the Church of Scotland, but New England as well.
Mr. Burton further claims that I teach General Assemblies are infallible, saying I assert their decisions are “no less infallible than those of the Apostles” (referring to Government of the Church of Scotland, ch. 20, p. 312).
Response: This is a clear misrepresentation. I appeal to Mr. Burton’s conscience and to all godly readers—this is not my view. I have explicitly denied the infallibility of church councils (see ch. 14, pp. 209–212). There I prove that the apostles in Acts 15 acted not as inspired apostles, but as ordinary elders, and that the pattern of Acts 15 is binding for synods throughout all ages. This is affirmed by Calvin, Whitaker, Cotton, and others—though some modern Independents reject it and side with Arminians, Socinians, and others who oppose synods altogether.
Furthermore, I say nothing about this on page 312. Mr. Burton misquotes and misplaces my words, which actually appear on page 322. There I state:
“The acts of the Assembly oblige even the absent in all their members... not because of the authority of the Church, but because the matters are necessary and agreeable to the Word of God.”
Mr. Burton conveniently omits the qualifying clause: “not because of the authority of the Church,” which is key to understanding my meaning. I do not rest the conscience-binding nature of Assembly decisions on the church’s authority itself (as Papists do), but on whether the matter is truly according to Scripture.
To illustrate: The Gospel Mr. Burton preaches binds his congregation—not because of his personal authority, but because what he preaches is (or should be) the truth of Scripture. If someone were to say, “Therefore, all Mr. Burton’s preaching is infallible,” they would be making a false and blasphemous claim. The same faulty logic is at work in his accusation against me.
Mr. Burton also attributes to me the claim that “whatever the Commissioners determine is necessary and agreeable to God's Word.” I never said such a thing. I do not believe that everything a General Assembly says is necessarily right or binding. Assemblies can err. “Every man is a liar,” as Scripture says.
What I do say is this: what they determine ought to be, and is only binding insofar as it aligns with God's Word. That is the key point Mr. Burton overlooks. My entire argument rests on the truth and necessity of the matter as measured by Scripture—not on the fallible authority of men.
In summary: only what is agreeable to God’s Word binds the conscience, whether it comes from an Assembly, a minister, or any other source. To claim otherwise is to misrepresent both my words and the principles of reformed church government.
I may say—without intending offense to Mr. Burton or others who oppose synods—that had they rightly understood the true nature of the debate between Protestants and Papists, they would not have so rashly opposed both Scripture and the united testimony of the Reformed Churches throughout the world. For we plainly deny the following:
1. That synods possess any absolute, unlimited, or infallible authority. The Romanists claim that councils cannot err and, in doing so, set them up as lords over the consciences of God's people. But when Independents accuse us of the same, they cannot justify it before the one true King and Head of the Church. Nor do we grant any civil magistrate the kind of boundless power to enforce synodical decisions by penal laws, as if those determinations were themselves infallible. We deny such civil authority to any ruler on earth.
Mr. Burton, in pages 9 to 12 of his work, brings harsh and uncharitable accusations against his fellow Christians—those who humbly and sincerely claim, no less than he, to belong to Christ. He accuses us of acting like Diotrephes, exalting man above God, being Antichrists and apostates, and advancing the mystery of iniquity. These are serious slanders, and he will one day have to answer for them.
Such charges not only defame us but also dishonor the entire Reformed tradition, including Calvin, Luther, Beza, Reynolds, Whitaker, Perkins, and the whole host of Protestant divines and churches. His accusations are, in truth, a sweeping condemnation of the very Reformers who laid the foundations of the Protestant faith.
2. We affirm that all power and authority given to synods is ministerial, not lordly. It is limited and regulated by the sole authority of God’s Word. In matters of circumstance—such as time, place, and persons—synods are also guided by the law of nature, by piety, love, and Christian wisdom, all for the building up of the Church and the glory of God.
We believe a lawful synod, by the authority of Christ, has ministerial power to make constitutions or decrees (Acts 16:4). These are not "laws" in the sense of binding legislative commands, because Christ alone is Lawgiver, King, and Head of the Church. His officers are merely servants, messengers entrusted to proclaim His law.
Thus, when synods condemn heresies like Arminianism, Socinianism, Familism, and Antinomianism—and command adherence to sound doctrine and rebuke those who subvert the truth (Acts 15:23–24)—their constitutions are to be obeyed. Consciences are to submit to them—not absolutely, nor on the basis of human authority alone, as if synods were infallible—but only insofar as their rulings agree with the Word of God. Obedience is never to be blind, nor unexamined; appeal is appropriate when something contradicts Scripture.
This is no different than the authority our Independent brethren grant to a single congregation in lawful matters, where disobedience may result in excommunication. Yet, as they rightly observe from Matthew 18, such authority does not establish Antichrist or promote the mystery of iniquity.
We also teach that the civil magistrate, as God’s servant, is obligated—after proper examination according to Scripture—to give civil support to these ecclesiastical rulings. He is to protect ministers with the sword and restrain false teachers such as Arminians, Socinians, and Familists, just as Mr. Burton once called for himself, appealing to the king against such groups.
However, we maintain that the magistrate’s power is distinct from the conscience. The Church’s constitutions do not gain binding authority from the magistrate’s sword. They are binding in conscience, just as they were in Acts 15, even if no magistrate existed—or even if he actively opposed them, as happened then.
Finally, those who deny all synodical authority—like some Arminians, Socinians, and Familists—except to say “Sir, if it please you, this is God's will; if not, you're free to believe what you like,” promote nothing but skepticism and doctrinal instability. If such is their method, changing beliefs with every passing season, we must part ways with them. Let it be clear: they are closer to Antichrist in this matter than we are.
Nor can we remain silent about our deep fear of God’s righteous judgments and His fierce displeasure for the breach of His Covenant in this land.
First, after so many victories and great deliverances, the fruit we now see is grievous: the persecution of godly and faithful ministers of Christ, and an increasing hatred and slander against the Church and Kingdom of Scotland—especially against those most zealous for Reformation, faithful to the Covenant, and committed to establishing true religion. These acts exceed even the hostility once shown by the Prelates. The very men who have labored for the safety and spiritual good of the Kingdom—more than all the sectaries in England—are now persecuted, impeached, imprisoned, and expelled from Parliament and civil office. And for what reason? If we examine the heart of the matter, it is simply because they have remained true to Presbyterian government, to the Covenant of God, to their brethren in Scotland, and have opposed—according to their covenant duty—the spread of heresies and blasphemies in the land.
Meanwhile, unworthy and wicked men, simply because they align with sectaries who blaspheme God and deny the deity of the Holy Spirit, not only escape punishment but are promoted to the highest positions in Parliament, the Army, and the State. Familists, Antinomians, Libertines, Arminians, Socinians, the former allies of Prelacy and popish sympathies, along with Seekers, Anabaptists, and Separatists—many of them covenant-breakers—are not only tolerated but advanced, in direct violation of the Covenant. Some, like Mr. Dell and Saltmarsh, known Familists, are even permitted to be preachers to the Army.
But let all know this: The Lord will distinguish between those who fear an oath and those who do not.
Second, the Lord must reckon with this land because the ambassadors of Jesus Christ are despised, hated, and persecuted.
Third, the City of London, which has borne the weight and cost of the war, is poorly repaid, to say the least.
Fourth, cursed pamphlets and malicious writings—filled with uncharitable slanders against the Covenant, the Reformation, the Reformed religion, the godliest members of Parliament, the Church and Kingdom of Scotland, and the Assembly of Divines—go unanswered and unchecked. These attacks aim to uproot the very foundation-stones of the Gospel, while even Roman Catholics (as Calvin noted against the Libertines) have not dared to so openly erase the clear boundaries that distinguish Christianity from Judaism, Paganism, or Islam.
Shall not the Lord now speak as He did in ancient times?
“Therefore I will yet plead with you,” says the Lord, “and with your children’s children will I plead. Pass over to the coasts of Cyprus and look, send to Kedar and observe carefully: has any nation changed its gods, though they are not gods? But my people have exchanged their glory for that which does not profit. Be appalled, O heavens, at this; be utterly desolate” (Jeremiah 2:9–12).
“They make a man an offender for a word, lay a snare for him who reproves in the gate, and turn aside the just for a thing of naught” (Isaiah 29:21).
Nor can we hide our fear of God’s righteous judgment and deep displeasure for the breach of His Covenant in this land.
5. What shall we say to the sister Reformed Churches throughout the world, who have heard of our many declarations, letters, ordinances, and solemn promises—before God, the world, and the elect angels—that we entered this Assembly willing to work with the honorable Houses of Parliament to remove not only episcopal government, but to establish that government which is most faithful to the Word of God, most conducive to the peace of the Church at home, and most able to secure unity with the Church of Scotland and other Reformed Churches in doctrine, worship, government, and catechism, and to confirm it by law?
We vowed to oppose heresies and schisms, and to require the National Covenant to be taken by all. Yet now, indulgence is granted not only to errors, but to every heresy, blasphemy, and sect, and even an army demanding liberty of conscience for all religions—Popery included—is authorized and upheld by Parliament. Meanwhile, humble petitioners seeking biblical government and resisting Erastian impositions are dismissed without an answer, censured as violators of parliamentary privilege—just as happened to the Assembly of Divines, who merely offered a humble plea to honor Christ’s royal authority in His Church.
6. Will not the Reformed Churches abroad, who have earnestly prayed for England's afflictions, be astonished when they learn that the same Parliament which joined us in the Covenant now fails to press it upon its subjects—even while urging the king to embrace it? Worse still, they allow it to be ridiculed in press and pulpit, promote its enemies, and support an army bent on turning the king's heart away from the Covenant and silencing its defenders. This same army now demands not the extirpation but the toleration of all heresies, blasphemies, and even the very throne of Antichrist—against which we all covenanted.
They press to repeal the laws enforcing the Covenant, effectively seeking to bury it in England. And yet, many in that army—Independents, Antinomians, Socinians, and others—once lifted their hands to the Most High, swearing never to be separated from that blessed union. But now, what the Church of Scotland and faithful Covenanters strive to build in public, is torn down in secret.
I do not speak of all. I am confident that many in Parliament, and throughout the Church and nation, abhor from the heart the paths of heresy, superstition, schism, Popery, and political treachery—evils which have advanced most since we swore to oppose them. And though the Covenant may now be cast aside, it shall rise again.
The Lord will make Jerusalem in Britain a cup of trembling to her enemies, a heavy stone that none can move. He will make her a fire among the wood, a burning torch in the midst of stubble. No weapon formed against her shall prosper, and every tongue raised against her shall be condemned. The Lord will vindicate His elect, preserve them from final deception, and lead the blind by paths they do not know.
In His time, He shall bring the people—though of many tongues—to call upon His name with one voice, and to serve Him with one heart. Then the Lord shall be one, and His name one across these three kingdoms, and His going forth shall be like the morning.
S. R.
Chapter I:
It cannot be considered harmful to the weak in faith—those who side with the Familists out of a misguided sense of love, with the Antinomians for a lifeless and corrupt faith, or with the Libertines who oppose holy living—to answer those who ask for a reason for our hope. Especially when we are mocked as Legalists, enemies of faith, Pharisees, or opponents of free grace. These accusations come simply because we uphold the rule of righteousness in God’s law, the necessity of repentance from dead works, and a close and careful walk with God. Against all such charges, I stand firm, as the apostle said: "as deceivers, and yet true; as unknown, and yet well known" (2 Corinthians 6:8–9).
I offer a brief account of those sound and innocent doctrines taught by many faithful Protestant divines, in hope that truth may break through the eyes of those who willingly shut them. In past times, the Albigenses were called heretics, yet—as an honest man once said—they never named the actual heresy. So now, it is the same: neither the supposed heresy nor the faithful ministers who preach the truth are clearly named.
We do not teach that the Law and Gospel are mixed in justification. We do not teach that tears of repentance wash away sin, that the covenant of grace is a covenant of works, or that we are to seek righteousness in ourselves.
Chapter II:
Antinomians Are Pelagians
We are far from affirming the Pelagian error—that an unconverted man can forsake sin simply because it is sin, or that he can earnestly long for saving comfort, or do anything truly spiritual out of fear of sin. We deny that a hypocrite under the law can sincerely and wholeheartedly submit himself to God’s law, as a wife to her husband, to be inwardly and outwardly guided by it according to God’s will.
Yet Saltmarsh speaks of a "legally-gospel" method of conversion in which Christ is truly received—a view similar to that of the Familists in New England. They claim that a Legalist may attain the same righteousness Adam had before the fall, and that a living faith—with living fruits—may arise from the living law.
But we believe that the unconverted man is far from conforming to God’s law. His conscience is seared, and he has never truly seen the face of the Judge who holds him captive in spiritual darkness. Therefore, even his best moral acts are nothing but white sins—externally commendable but inwardly corrupt.
He is a bad tree and cannot produce good fruit.
True mortification of sin is produced only by the Spirit of the Gospel.
The law cannot give life.
The faith of a hypocrite who remains under the law is a dead faith.
Chapter III:
We Reject Moral Preparations Before Conversion, Unlike Pelagians, Papists, and Arminians
We do not teach, as Saltmarsh falsely accuses, that vows or moral undertakings—if they do not lead to Christ—can prepare the soul for conversion. Nor do we dilute the wine of gospel grace with the fire of law-works and conditions.
We deny—against both Antinomians and Arminians—that there is any gospel promise which says: “He who does this or that, or who possesses certain conditions or qualifications, shall be converted as a reward for his efforts.”
The debate about preparations is not about whether a humbled soul, simply by being humbled, has warrant to believe in Christ. We affirm that the foundation of faith does not lie within a person. The common ground and royal warrant for faith is the free and costless offer of Christ. Whoever desires Christ may take Him without paying a price of works or conditions.
The real question concerns the order in which Christ brings us to faith. Should a hardened Pharisee, proud of his merits and righteousness, or an unbroken sinner like Simon Magus, or a scornful atheist, be immediately assured of God’s electing love and brought into the joy of the gospel—without conviction, without being humbled by the law, without sorrow for sin?
Antinomians say yes: sinners, as sinners, are offered Christ, and no one can believe in Him too quickly. But in truth, many believe too disorderly, claiming Christ while they feel no need for Him.
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Some rush to follow Christ without counting the cost.
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God's usual order is to humble before He converts—to pierce the heart, then bring the sinner to the Physician; to bring the trembling publican to the Savior.
“Thine they were, and thou gavest them to me” (John 17:6).
Their election is the cause. Their obedience is the evidence.
This disorder suits the view of the Familists, who deny the new birth, reject inherent grace in the believer, and say no real inward change occurs—only a supposed or relative change. But such teaching overturns the work of regeneration entirely.
Chapter IV:
On Whether the Desire for Grace Is Grace
We have never taught, as the Antinomians falsely accuse, that a desire for converting grace in the unconverted is itself conversion, or that a desire to pray and believe is the same as actual prayer or faith.
However, in the converted, a sincere and supernatural desire for grace is rightly counted as grace.
It is so because it is, in essence, the seed and substance of grace. The same Spirit who gives the desire also brings about the action.
It is grace in God's estimation. For example, Abraham’s willingness to offer Isaac is accepted by God as if he had done it: “Because you have done this…”
Wherever there is a true desire for grace, there is grace present alongside it. “With my soul I have desired You in the night”—this desire is recognized and blessed by God as saving grace.
Therefore, consider the error of the Familists, who call it a delusion to teach that God overlooks daily infirmities and accepts the willing heart in place of the full performance. They advocate for perfection in this life—but in doing so, they deny the comfort of God’s fatherly acceptance of sincere, though imperfect, obedience.
Chapter V:
How We Are Freed from the Law—and How We Are Not
There are three aspects of the law to be considered:
Its commands.
Its promises.
Its threats.
Concerning the commanding power of the law, we must consider:
The motives, bonds, and helps that lead to obedience.
The extent of that obedience.
The law, when infused with the compelling love and gracious authority of our Redeemer, and when approached with thankfulness to Christ who ransomed us—this moral motive—still binds us to obedience. Not only because of the content of its commands, but also because of the authority of the Lawgiver.
Yet some, like Towne, claim that we are freed from the law in its dominion, office, and effects. Others go further, asserting that the children of God are not under the law at all—not to be taught what to do or avoid, because the Spirit alone instructs them. According to them, believers need no law, no command, no precept. They are above ordinances like reading and hearing Scripture, just as Christ was.
One even claims that the Spirit sets the believer as free from hell, law, and bondage here on earth as if he were already in heaven—and that the only thing lacking is believing that it is so.
Chapter VI:
How the Command of the Law Obligates Us
We do not teach that the moral law binds us merely as given by Moses, for if that were so, the ceremonial laws would bind us too—which is not the case for Christians. But we affirm that by the Ten Commandments delivered through Moses, God intended to bind all people, including Christians, to continual obedience until the end of the world.
This is clear:
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Christ and His apostles continually appeal to the moral law.
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Paul urges the Romans to fulfill the law through love, and reminds the Ephesians of the first commandment with promise.
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James calls his readers to fulfill the royal law according to Scripture—which, at that time, meant the writings of Moses and the prophets.
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James appeals not only to the content of the law, but also to the authority of the Lawgiver: “He who said, Do not commit adultery, also said, Do not kill” (James 2:11).
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The apostles, in their epistles, restate the very laws Moses gave, showing these are now Christ’s commandments—not merely Moses’.
Again: “Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound? God forbid” (Romans 6:1).
And: “Is the law sin?” (Romans 7:7). No—it reveals sin.
Whatever is sin for a believer implies that the law still binds him. To say that sin is only against Christ the Redeemer, and not against the moral law, would make all sin nothing more than ingratitude. But this would mean that a pagan, who has never heard of Christ, could not sin by committing murder—since he cannot be ungrateful to a Savior he does not know (John 15:22). If the moral law is abrogated as the ceremonial law is, then murder would be no more sinful than uncircumcision.
The law of nature binds perpetually. It binds the Gentiles because it has authority from God, who wrote it on their hearts. When their consciences condemn them for sin, they fear judgment from the Lawgiver. The moral law, likewise, binds because it comes from the same God.
The law, by the Spirit’s working, is a means of conversion. “The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul” (Psalm 19:7). Like the rest of God’s Word, the law is useful for teaching, correction, and instruction in righteousness. The gospel itself, without the Spirit, is a dead letter—just like the law. Therefore, to sin against any means of conversion is to sin against the law of God. And since the law commands us to obey all that God requires, it continues to bind us.
Christ clearly said that He did not come to free us from obedience to the least part of the law. The covenant of works is abrogated only in this respect: we are freed from the law as a means of justification and from its curse. That is as far as the Antinomian argument may go—no further.
Antinomians claim we are freed from the law even in its substance—as if, now that the Sun of Righteousness has risen, we should no longer walk in the light of any beam at all. While some, like Mr. Towne, are less extreme, the result is the same.
Thus, they take offense at any light coming from the written commands of either law or gospel. They claim that to search for Christ in the Scriptures is unsafe, and that covenants found in the written and preached Word draw men away from Christ.
Chapter VII:
How the Law and the Gospel Require the Same Obedience
Though the law does not speak of a Surety or Mediator, and is therefore different from the gospel in what it omits, it does not contradict the gospel. It does not deny that a Mediator is needed—for that would imply conflicting wills in God. It would also mean that Christ's death was unjust, being contrary to a righteous law.
The obedience commanded in the law as a covenant of works is the same obedience now required under the covenant of grace. The difference lies in how it is fulfilled:
Under the law, it was to be performed by our own strength, out of love for God and reverence for His authority.
Under the gospel, it is enabled by the grace of Christ and motivated not only by God's authority and love, but also by gratitude to a redeeming Savior.
It is like paying the same debt, either from one’s own funds or with money received from a generous friend.
The perfect obedience the law requires, and the sincere but imperfect obedience the gospel accepts, differ only in degree. The gospel, while still commanding perfection, accepts the “clipped coin” of our efforts, as it were, when offered through Christ—pardoning what is lacking. The law demands perfect love to God under penalty of eternal death. That demand remains, though the covenant of works (as a method of justification) has been set aside.
A new ground of obligation does not change the nature of the obedience. The same moral duties were required of both Jews and Gentiles. Though the law was written and preached more clearly to the Jews, and thus their disobedience brought greater guilt, the duties themselves remain unchanged. What Moses commanded in Exodus 20—righteousness, holiness, and sobriety—is also required by the gospel, as Paul teaches in Titus 2:11–12. Even if Moses didn’t always use gospel motives, the nature of the command does not change. Just as a master may require the same task from a servant and a son, but with different reasoning, so God commands the same moral obedience under both covenants.
The gospel does not lower the standard of perfection. It commands all that the law commands, in the same holiness and purity. “Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect,” and “Be holy, for I am holy,” remain gospel commands. The difference is in acceptance, not in requirement. The gospel pardons our failures, but it does not dispense with any of God’s commands. The law neither grants pardon nor forbids it, but offers no provision for it. The gospel, in contrast, both commands obedience and provides forgiveness for the disobedient through Christ.
Chapter VIII:
On the Promises of the Law and the True Differences Between the Two Covenants
Concerning the promissory aspect of the law:
The law promises life and reward only to perfect and complete obedience. The smallest failure in any point forfeits the entire reward, and there is no way to regain it under that covenant. In contrast, the gospel promises eternal reward even for the least sincere act of obedience—such as giving a cup of cold water to a disciple of Christ.
Therefore, the difference between the law and the gospel is not, as Antinomians imagine, that one requires obedience and the other does not. The gospel also commands obedience and offers promises of life. “Godliness has the promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come.” Christ promises glory—even to imperfect followers who forsake all for His name.
The real differences are these:
In the gospel, no obedience is accepted without a Mediator. Under the law, no Mediator is offered or required.
The law was given to a holy and upright nature (as in Adam). The gospel is given to sinners—wounded, lame, and spiritually dead.
The law gives by way of debt, not grace. Though Adam could not merit an infinite reward by finite obedience, under the covenant of works, he could still lay claim to life by fulfilling the terms—without grace, without pardon. In that sense, he could "glory" in his works—not proudly, but justly, according to the agreement.
Paul says, “If Abraham had something to boast of, it would not be before God” (Romans 4:2). He is not affirming that the law permits true boasting before God, but that justification by works tends toward self-glory more than justification by grace. The gospel excludes all boasting: “Where, then, is boasting? It is excluded” (Romans 3:27). Even the angels cannot boast, for “of Him, and through Him, and to Him are all things” (Romans 11:36).
The law cannot accept imputed righteousness—that is, the righteousness of another. It requires personal, perfect obedience. To believe in imputed righteousness is a supernatural act, beyond the strength of Adam's nature. The law curses even the smallest deviation—any inward inclination or motion of sin.
The gospel makes room for repentance, while the law does not. The gospel opens a door of hope for the sinner. Its central condition is faith: believing that Christ’s ransom secures our right to eternal life. The law says nothing of such grace.
The law gives reward as a due debt, even if not by merit. The gospel gives reward freely—against merit.
Chapter IX:
On the Threatenings of the Law and the Gospel
Concerning the third aspect—the threatenings of the law, in distinction from the gospel:
The law threatens the person for each and every action, even for the smallest fault in thought, word, or deed. The gospel, however, threatens not so much based on actions themselves, but based on one’s state. And when the gospel does threaten actions, it is because those actions reveal a condemned state.
Thus, the learned Pareus rightly says that the gospel, as gospel, contains no threatenings. The believer is under a new King and a new covenant and is therefore protected from condemnation. Just as a man in Scotland cannot be condemned under the laws of Spain for a crime committed there, so also the believer, now under the kingdom of Christ, is not under the curse of the law.
Pareus is correct to say that only the law curses. The gospel, as good news, does not. For instance: “He who does not believe is already condemned.” That is, the person was already condemned by the law; the gospel only confirms the sentence.
Had there never been a gospel or a Mediator, the sinner would still be condemned. Now, because he rejects the offer of grace in Christ, he remains under wrath. “The wrath of God abides on him.” The unbeliever is condemned not simply for rejecting the pardon, but for the blood he has already shed—for his sin. Yet his refusal of grace aggravates his guilt and deepens his condemnation.
This is like a sick man who dies from disease but also refuses the medicine that could have cured him. His illness is the physical cause of death; his rejection of the physician is the moral cause—and he dies with greater shame and sorrow.
Yet we must be clear: faith is not the cause of pardon. It is not the effectual or meritorious cause of salvation. Christ alone saves. Unbelief, however, functions as a moral cause of condemnation—not by effect, but as a willful barrier.
The gospel is an exception of grace against the law's sentence. The law says, “The soul that sins shall die.” The gospel says, “Except he believe.” Thus the gospel does not cancel or contradict the law's threats but confirms them—adding an offer of deliverance.
Whatever punishment falls upon an unbeliever comes from the law, not the gospel. It is the law’s death they die, for all who perish do so under the covenant of works. No one is eternally lost under Christ. If the gospel warns that “the sexually immoral, murderers, and drunkards shall not inherit the kingdom of God,” it assumes they remain under the law. The gospel's aim is not their destruction, but that they might repent and believe.
Chapter X:
On Gospel Fear
It is fully compatible with gospel freedom to fear hell. We do not teach that believers fear punishment more than sin—for sin is a far greater evil than punishment.
We are commanded to fear Him who can cast both soul and body into hell (Luke 12:5).
This fear is not a servile or legal spirit of bondage. It is not wrong to tremble at God's Word, as some did, or for Josiah’s heart to melt at the reading of the law. Such fear may arise from reverence and humility, not legal terror.
To feel no fear of judgment is a sign of a hard and impenitent heart. While Felix's trembling was not a sign of saving faith—because he feared judgment more than sin—it does not follow that all fear of judgment is unlawful.
Nor is it mercenary to desire the reward, so long as it is not greater in our hearts than the desire for communion with God. For example:
Moses, by faith, looked to the reward (Hebrews 11:26).
Paul ran to obtain the prize set before him (1 Corinthians 9:24).
Scripture commands us to lay hold of eternal life and to pursue it diligently.
Yet we must not place our created happiness—our joy in heaven—as the ultimate end of our race. Rather, our highest aim must be holiness and union with God Himself, who is our supreme joy.
If Antinomians would rightly distinguish between the love of reward and a hireling spirit, they would not wrongly condemn this fear or hope. Even the saints under the law served God with upright hearts while still looking for a reward. Satan falsely accused Job of serving God for gain (Job 1:9–10), but Scripture testifies otherwise (Psalm 73:25; Job 13:15).
Chapter XI:
Law-Fear and Gospel-Faith Are Consistent
Antinomians like Mr. Towne wrongly argue that if believers are stirred to repent by the threatenings of the law, then their sins must not deserve wrath, unlike the sins of others. But this is false. Even Job said, “What then shall I do when God arises?” and “Destruction from God was a terror to me.” Such fear does not make one's obedience unfree or unspiritual. To obey out of a sense of sin's desert—while trusting in Christ—is not legalism.
Even Paul, who was fully persuaded that eternal wrath would never fall on him, confessed, “Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade men” (2 Cor. 5:11). He also said, “We know that if our earthly house is destroyed, we have a house eternal in the heavens.” So law-threatenings and gospel-assurance can exist together in the believer’s heart. Gospel love does not cancel reverent fear.
Antinomians err by teaching that the gospel only persuades, but does not command—that it reasons us into obedience, rather than binding and requiring it. They claim sanctification comes not from external law, but from the inward working of the Spirit, who makes the believer "the law itself," with the law written on his heart.
But this is mistaken:
Commands and persuasions can work together. Law enforcements are moral appeals to the mind and will, just as gospel preaching is. In that sense, both law and gospel “persuade.”
Sanctification comes through the Spirit using both law and gospel. The law, by the Spirit’s power, converts the soul (Psalm 19:7). The Antinomians insist that this happens only when the law becomes gospel. But the truth is: neither the law nor the gospel, as bare words, can sanctify. Both must be animated by the Spirit, and the law—when used lawfully—leads us to Christ, acting as a schoolmaster (Gal. 3:24).
To claim that faith-preaching itself gives the Spirit, as Saltmarsh and others suggest, is to fall into the mysticism of the Familists. For:
The gospel was preached to the Pharisees by Christ and His apostles, yet they remained unconverted. The preaching of faith does not automatically give the Spirit.
The preaching of faith and the Spirit are distinct, as a pen is distinct from the writer who uses it. The gospel is an instrument; the Spirit is the author of life.
Antinomians redefine “gospel” to mean not the preached Word, but the inner teaching of the Spirit apart from Scripture or any outward means. According to them, sanctification happens without law, gospel, command, promise, or ordinance. If that were true, we could discard the Bible altogether.
This explains why Antinomians speak so often of “the letter” versus “the Spirit.” For them, both the Old and New Testaments—even the promises—are mere “letter.” They claim that under the New Testament, we serve not according to the letter, but the Spirit. Therefore, they reject all preaching, commands, exhortations, and threats found in both law and gospel.
Towne even says that God keeps us under the gospel in righteousness “without all law, ceremonial and moral.” For Antinomians, outward ordinances are matters of courtesy, not necessity.
Chapter XII:
Antinomians Deny Actual Pardon of Sins to the Jews
Antinomians claim that the knowledge of actual and eternal forgiveness of sins was not revealed to the Old Testament saints—that it was a mystery hidden until the coming of the gospel. But this is false.
David, Abraham, and the other patriarchs were justified by faith, through the imputed righteousness of Christ—just as we are. David, in Psalm 32:1–2, describes the blessedness of the man whose transgression is forgiven. This was not an unknown or theoretical joy to him, for in verse 5 he declares, “You forgave the iniquity of my sin.”
In Acts 15:11, Peter affirms, “We believe that through the grace of the Lord Jesus we shall be saved, even as they.” That is, the Jews were saved by the same grace and gospel as we are.
All the fathers died in faith. They ate the same spiritual food and drank from the same spiritual Rock—and that Rock was Christ (1 Corinthians 10:3–4).
Scripture foresaw that God would justify the Gentiles by faith and preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham (Galatians 3:8). Isaiah spoke of Christ as an evangelist, and Daniel prophesied of the Messiah’s death and of the everlasting righteousness He would bring. The prophets clearly foretold the sufferings of Christ and the glory that would follow (1 Peter 1:11).
Therefore, actual remission of sins was no hidden mystery to the Old Testament saints. Abraham rejoiced to see Christ’s day—and he saw it (John 8:56).
Chapter XIII:
On the Minority (Nonage) of the Jews—What It Was
The tutoring, bondage, or nonage of the Jews refers to:
A lesser measure of the Spirit than is now given under the gospel.
A stricter and more burdensome administration of the law.
A time when the infant Church was kept under tutors and guardians through ceremonial elements—teaching them through outward types and shadows, especially bloody sacrifices and various washings, which illustrated the guilt and defilement of sin.
But none of this proves that the Jews were “under the law” in the condemning, legal sense. For:
If they had been under the law in that sense, then they would have been under the curse, and thus would have perished eternally—contrary to Scripture. Their pardon was not partial or incomplete.
If they were under the law, then they must have been saved by works. But Paul says they fell short of righteousness because they sought it by works and not by faith (Rom. 9:31–32). It was never lawful for them, any more than for us, to seek justification through the law. They were justified in the same way we are—by faith in Christ.
Many sweet, gospel-like promises were made to them, just as to us: “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters”; “Behold, I lay in Zion a cornerstone”; “The just shall live by faith”; “Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity?”; “I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions.” These and many other Scriptures show that the Jews were offered the same gospel blessings.
The prophets denounced mere external, legal religion, and preached faith, repentance, and cleansing through Christ’s blood—just as the apostles did. Peter affirms that “To Him give all the prophets witness, that through His name, whoever believes in Him shall receive remission of sins” (Acts 10:43).
There is clear evidence of the Spirit of adoption among them, with spiritual liberty in prayer, wresthng with God, boldness at the throne of grace—as seen in Jacob, David, and Moses. The Song of Solomon shows deep, gospel-like intimacy between Christ and His Church—feasting and rejoicing together.
The law’s administration was less glorious—not because it was bad, but because of human sin and the obscurity of types, and because they had a smaller measure of the Spirit (cf. 2 Cor. 3; Eph. 3:9–10). Paul magnifies the glory of the gospel in contrast to the law—not in itself, but as wrongly exalted by false teachers who taught that it could save without Christ, or justify alongside faith.
If the Jews were under the law as a covenant of works, then all who hear the gospel—elect or reprobate—must also be under it until freed. But Antinomians and Arminians like Den and Moore claim that all people are now under grace, and none under the law of commandments. Their argument would wrongly apply the legal condition of the Jews to all mankind—which is not supported by Scripture.
Chapter XIV:
Antinomians Say the Old Man Is Under the Law, the New Man Is Above All Law
It is astonishing that Towne and other Antinomians claim the old man (the flesh) in believers is under the law, but the new man is free from all law—as if the regenerate part of the believer is entirely lawless. This echoes the error of the Familists and Libertines, who excused their sin by saying, “It is not I who sin, but my body, or my flesh.”
But this reasoning is deeply flawed:
Guilt and sin fall upon the whole person, not merely a part.
Commands are given to the person, and the person is held accountable—not merely his senses or his flesh.
If only the old man is under the law, and not the new man, then the whole idea of sin and guilt becomes fragmented and meaningless.
Den and Saltmarsh argue that while faith, righteousness, joy, and peace dwell in the conscience, sin exists only in outward behavior or in the senses and flesh. But by such logic, original sin ceases to be sin, since it is dismissed as belonging merely to a “lower part” of man.
Chapter XV:
Antinomians Claim the Justified Only Sin Before Men, Not Before God or in Conscience
Antinomians assert that the justified have no sin in their conscience—that God sees no sin in them, although sin may still appear in their outward conduct and flesh.
But this too is gravely mistaken:
Original sin, and the flesh which lusts against the Spirit, are not merely outward, but dwell in the very soul—in mind, will, affections, and conscience. Though the guilt of condemnation is removed, sin remains as a spiritual disease. This is why Paul cried out, “O wretched man that I am!”—not for outward acts alone, but for inward corruption.
If the justified had no sin in them, they would be as perfect as angels and would have no need to pray for forgiveness.
Outward sins—like murder, oppression, and blasphemy—are sins against God’s law, and if they are not sins in the conscience, they would not be sins at all. That would mean such deeds in the justified are not evil, but “golden graces,” which is blasphemous.
Chapter XVI:
Antinomians Mistake Justification as the Eradication of Sin
Antinomians wrongly teach that justification means the complete removal of sin—root and branch—within the believer. This idea mirrors the Roman Catholic error, which claims the justified are free from all sin, save some minor “venial” sins that can be dealt with by personal satisfaction.
We reject this. Justification is not the destruction of sin itself, but rather the legal removal of guilt and condemnation before God.
It is a judicial, external declaration—not a change in our inner nature. It removes the sentence of death but does not erase sin’s presence. Justification is the opposite of condemnation in the courtroom of heaven—it does not make a sinner inherently sinless.
The justified are not as righteous as Christ. Christ could truthfully say, “I have no sin.” But we—even while justified—are liars if we claim to be without sin (1 John 1:8).
Sin does not dwell in Christ, but it still dwells in us. There is in us concupiscence, lust, and conflict between flesh and Spirit, which never existed in Him.
Therefore, Scripture clearly teaches that sin continues to dwell in the justified, though its guilt is pardoned.
Chapter XVII:
Christ Was Not Formally a Sinner, Contrary to Antinomian Claims
Antinomians, like Dr. Crisp, wrongly teach that Christ was formally made sin—as if the actual guilt and defilement of sin were placed upon Him in His very nature. They claim that Christ became an adulterer, an idolater, a sinner—not inherently, but imputatively—because He bore the punishment due to our sins.
We must be clear:
Christ was made sin, not by imagination, but truly and really, in that He suffered on our behalf. Yet sin itself—its corruption and defilement—remains in us, even after we are justified. Scripture still says, “We are carnal, sold under sin,” and “In many things we offend all.” It is blasphemy to suggest that Christ was as sinful as we are.
The surety is never the principal offender. Christ, as our surety, was legally and penally liable for our debt, but He did not personally commit the offenses. Just as a man who covers another’s debt is not himself the thief or the waster, Christ is not formally the sinner. Though legally held responsible for sin, He remained in Himself holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners, even while bearing our punishment.
Scripture does not teach that Christ bore the essence or inherent guilt of sin. If He had, He could not be our sinless sacrifice. Rather, He bore the penalty of our sins in His own body on the cross—He was “wounded for our transgressions.” The guilt was not transferred as a defilement of His person, but as a legal imputation for the purpose of atonement.
Antinomians also err by confusing justification and sanctification. They teach that believers are as inherently sinless as Christ Himself—that original sin, the old man, and the flesh are entirely gone. This is the error of the Familists, who claim:
Christ has “Goded” or “Christed” the believer.
Christ is incarnate in the saint.
The believer becomes God manifest in the flesh.
All sins of the believer are no longer sins—no more than Christ’s own actions.
All sin was “swallowed up and annihilated” in Christ.
“He who is born of God cannot sin” means sin no longer exists for the believer.
Mr. Towne even claims that justification is regeneration, and that to true faith, there is no sin.
These teachings are dangerous and unbiblical. They rob Christ of His unique holiness and confuse the believer’s standing in grace with a perfection we do not yet possess.
Chapter XVIII:
Justification Occurs Only Through Faith—Not Before We Believe
We affirm—against the Antinomians—that we are not justified until we believe.
They argue instead that we were justified:
From eternity,
Or at the moment Christ died,
Or even from the moment of our birth.
But this cannot be:
Justification in God’s eternal decree is not the same as justification itself. If that were so, then creation, sanctification, glorification—even the crucifixion of Christ—would have occurred from eternity too. Yet all these take place in time, according to God’s eternal purpose.
In justification, the guilt of our sin is completely removed. It is cast behind God’s back, never to be remembered (Isa. 43:25; Mic. 7:19). If we were justified from eternity, then believers were never actually sinners, never dead in sin, never children of wrath—only theoretically so. But Paul plainly says otherwise (Eph. 2:1–3; Rom. 5:6–10).
It is true that God loved His elect from eternity, and from that love sent Christ to die, justify, and sanctify them. But that love is not justification itself—it is the source of justification, which takes place in time when God brings us to faith. “When we were in our blood, He washed us” (Ezek. 16:6–9).
If we were justified from eternity, we would have to believe from eternity, for Scripture teaches that we are justified by faith (Rom. 5:1). But we do not believe until the Spirit gives us faith in time.
Justification brings with it a real union with Christ, through which we live by faith and wait on God in trials. Although there is an eternal union of love in God’s mind toward the elect, there can be no saving union with Christ apart from faith and the indwelling of the Spirit.
The Familist notion that one may be united to Christ without faith—having Christ live in us, yet not believe—is unbiblical. Scripture says:
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We receive Christ by faith (John 1:12),
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We abide in Him by faith (John 15),
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Christ dwells in our hearts through faith (Eph. 3:17),
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We live in Him by faith (Gal. 2:20),
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We feed on Him by believing (John 6),
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And he who has the Son has life through faith, not without it (1 John 5:12).
Therefore, these and many other passages prove we were not justified when Christ died, but only when we believed.
All who are justified are also sanctified and called. The blessings that accompany justification include:
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The receiving of the Spirit through faith,
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Peace with God through Christ,
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Access into grace by faith,
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Joy in hope,
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Growth through tribulation,
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And perseverance in hope (Rom. 5:1–5).
But many for whom Christ died lack all these blessings until they believe.
The Antinomian distinction between justification before God and justification in our own experience is unhelpful and unsupported by Scripture. The Bible knows only justification by faith.
Christ paid the meritorious price of our justification on the cross—but that payment, while necessary, is not justification itself. We are not declared righteous until we are united to Christ by faith.
Chapter XIX:
God's Love of Good Will and Good Pleasure—a Valid Distinction
We reject the Antinomian view that justification brings no real change in a person’s spiritual condition before God, and that God’s love toward us is the same before and after conversion. They deny the meaningful distinction between God’s love of good will (amor benevolentiae) and His love of delight or approval (amor complacentiae), arguing that God loves simply because He loves, without any regard to what is in the creature—even the graces that come from the gospel.
However, this distinction is sound and grounded in Scripture:
The love of benevolence is God’s free choice and purpose to save a person and give them every spiritual blessing in Christ. It flows from election and is not based on anything in us. This love ordains our salvation and the means to attain it.
The love of complacency or delight refers not to God's love of persons apart from Christ, but His delight in His own work of grace within His people. God loves the graces He has implanted in His children—not because they merit love, but because they are the reflection of His own workmanship.
Importantly, this does not imply any new or changing act of love arises in God. Rather, God creates a lovely object—by grace—and then delights in what He Himself has formed. He continues to love that object with the same eternal love. Creatures must discover what is lovable; God creates it. When God delights in the ornaments of His bride (as in Song of Solomon 4), He delights in what He Himself has placed upon her through Christ. This is not new love, but the continuation of His eternal love manifest in time.
So, when God is said to love His people for their beauty or for their fear of Him, this is not because the creature caused God to love, but because God loves His own grace at work in them. As Augustine said, God crowns His own gifts, not our merits. We are passive recipients—vessels of grace.
This same principle applies to Christ’s imputed righteousness: it is not eternal in itself, but applied in time. If Antinomians object that we make inherent holiness a condition of God’s eternal love, then they must face the same objection for imputed righteousness, which also begins in time. But we say neither is the cause of eternal love—both are fruits of it, and conditions of its ongoing expression, not its origin.
Scripture confirms this balance:
“The Lord loves the righteous” (Psalm 146:8),
“The Lord loves truth in the inward parts” (Psalm 51:6),
“He takes pleasure in those who fear Him” (Psalm 147:11),
“You have ravished my heart with one look of your eyes” (Song 4:9),
“You are all fair, my love; there is no spot in you” (Song 4:7).
These texts affirm both inherent holiness and imputed righteousness, but neither is the cause or ground of God's eternal, immutable love. Rather, they are the evidence and the means by which God brings His eternal love into expression in time.
To say that God loves us just as much when we sin grievously—as David did in adultery and murder, or Peter in denying Christ—as when we walk in holiness and prayer, and that He is no more displeased with the saints for sin because all His wrath was spent at the cross, is not only erroneous but abominable. God's paternal displeasure with His children for sin is real, even though it does not threaten their justification.
Chapter XX:
Justification Brings a Real Change in Our State
There is a true and significant change in the believer’s condition before God in justification. We were not justified from eternity, nor before we believed.
Scripture says that “In time past the Gentiles were not a people and had not obtained mercy,” but now they are God’s people and have received mercy (1 Pet. 2:10). Similarly, Jerusalem was once defiled in her blood, but the Lord looked upon her, cleansed her, and adorned her (Ezek. 16).
The apostle Paul says he was once “a blasphemer, a persecutor,” and that God saw him as such—until he “obtained mercy” (1 Tim. 1:13). This real change, recognized in the sight of God, confirms that justification is a true transition from guilt to righteousness—not merely an eternal idea, but an event in time.
Chapter XXI:
We Do Not Mix Works with Grace in Justification
We firmly reject the Antinomian accusation that we mix works or the law with faith and free grace in the doctrine of justification.
Even works done by grace are tainted by the sinfulness of our nature. Paul says that “All have sinned” (Rom. 3), and the Psalms affirm that “There is none who does good” (Ps. 14; 53). No one can be justified by the law, because even our best works fall short and are stained with sin. The righteousness by which we stand before God must be entirely sinless, meeting all the law’s demands—something no human possesses in themselves.
If righteousness were divided between faith and works, or between Christ’s merit and our own, then Christ would be a Savior only in part. But free grace is jealous—it allows no partner or rival. Paul counted his own righteousness as dung (Phil. 3:8), preferring only Christ’s.
To ground peace with God in our own works rather than in the satisfying blood of Christ undermines the very peace that flows from justification (Rom. 5:1).
It robs Christ of His glory if we wear a garment of our own weaving for eternity. Far better to wear the wedding garment woven entirely by grace, giving full glory to the Lamb.
Such teaching confuses law and gospel, grace and merit—undermining the entire distinction essential to the gospel message.
Finally, if righteousness comes through our works, then Christ died in vain (Gal. 2:21).
Chapter XXII:
Antinomians Deny the Presence of Sin in the Justified
Antinomians claim that no sin remains in the justified person, that nothing contrary to God's law exists in them. Dr. Crisp even says sin is removed so completely as if it had never been. This may be true concerning the guilt of sin and its liability to punishment, but it is false regarding the presence and reality of indwelling sin.
Even pardoned believers—like the apostle John—must say, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves” (1 John 1:8).
No justified person can truthfully say, “I have made my heart clean.” Scripture declares that “there is not a just man who does good and sins not.”
The flesh continues to lust against the Spirit in the regenerate. Though sin has lost its dominion, it still remains as a defeated tyrant, not utterly destroyed. As Augustine put it, sin dwells in us as a servant, not a king.
Our lack of perfect sanctification is itself sinful imperfection, since God requires perfect holiness.
Christ truly washes away our sin—not merely covers it—but we still pray daily, “Forgive us our debts,” which implies the continuing presence of sin in our lives.
Chapter XXIII:
Antinomians Claim That to Faith There Is No Sin
We reject Towne’s claim that “to faith, there is no sin” or that faith sees the heart as entirely clean. If that were true:
Then Christ could not dwell by faith in a heart where sin remains, which contradicts both Scripture and the lived experience of believers who grieve over indwelling sin.
It would imply that believers are already as perfect as the angels.
It would require believers to believe a lie—namely, that they are entirely sanctified and without sin. This falsehood is built on a misuse of Luther’s words, in which he says, “I believe that there is a holy Church… no sin, no curse, no death in the Church.” Luther meant that, in terms of justification, sin does not condemn the Church—not that no sin remains in believers themselves.
Saltmarsh also wrongly asserts that terms like “ungodly” or “children of wrath” are not truly applicable to believers—even before conversion—but only appear so from the world’s view. Scripture disagrees.
Chapter XXIV:
Faith’s Reign Is Not Absolute, as Antinomians Claim
Antinomians teach that faith reigns so absolutely that sin has no place in the kingdom of grace. But this would make life on earth a perfect heaven, which contradicts both Scripture and experience.
That would mean faith is always perfectly strong and always active in every believer—which it is not.
It would require all a believer’s actions to flow perfectly and continuously from faith alone, without any weakness, failure, or sin.
We reject the idea that faith rules so completely that sin, in its essence and presence, is banished entirely from the believer. Instead, sin remains, though conquered, like the Gibeonites who served under Israel in the Promised Land. They were subdued but still present.
By the law of conquest, sin no longer reigns, but still dwells in us.
Antinomians wrongly make the justified person to be in a state of absolute perfection, as though nothing more could be added in sanctification.
If the “law of faith” removed the moral law entirely as a rule of life, then good works would no longer serve as companions on our way to heaven—yet Scripture teaches they do.
Chapter XXV:
Refuting the Antinomian Claim That God Sees No Sin in the Justified
We strongly reject the Antinomian claim that God sees no adultery, lying, blasphemy, or deceit in believers, even if they commit such sins. It is true that God does not see the sins of believers as a Judge to condemn them, but He most certainly sees them as a Father who disciplines His children.
Antinomians often appeal to Numbers 23:21, where Balaam says, “He has not beheld iniquity in Jacob.” But this cannot mean that God was blind to their sins, for elsewhere in Scripture God clearly rebukes and corrects His covenant people. If we accept the Antinomian reading, God would both see and not see iniquity in the same people at the same time—which is absurd.
Moreover, as God, who knows all things, He cannot fail to see the sins of the justified. Yet Antinomians go so far as to deny that the sins believers commit after justification are sins at all. According to them, if the sin is already forgiven—because it was removed at the cross—then it is no longer sin, and God cannot see what no longer exists.
This is their reasoning, as expressed by Eaton: “Forgiven sin has no being before God; therefore, there can be no punishment or correction for it.” From this they conclude:
The sins of believers—David’s adultery, Peter’s denial—were forgiven before they were committed, and so are not truly sins.
“To faith, there is no sin” (Towne).
Under the reign of faith, there is no sin.
In the justified, there is nothing remaining that is truly sin.
But Scripture clearly teaches that God does see sin in the justified, though not with judicial wrath:
“He sees the thoughts from afar” (Ps. 139:2)—He knows all things, including sinful thoughts.
He forbade David’s adultery and Peter’s denial through His commandments—even after they were justified. God does not give His children license to sin under grace.
He rebukes justified persons for their sins. Christ rebuked Peter: “Get behind me, Satan.”
He chastises His people for sin.
He is displeased when they sin: “The thing that David had done displeased the Lord” (2 Sam. 11:27). Though this displeasure is not the eternal wrath of condemnation, it is still genuine paternal displeasure.
God records the sins of justified persons—Moses, David, Peter, and others—in Scripture.
He hates sin, even in His elect.
He gives His saints grace to see, confess, and mourn their sins.
He turns their sins to His own glory, showing the riches of His grace—not by ignoring them, but by forgiving them and displaying the power of Christ’s atonement.
Thus, we affirm: God sees sin in the justified, not to condemn them, but to correct, sanctify, and glorify Himself in the salvation of His people.
Chapter XXVI:
Confession Is Required of Believers
It is false to say that confessing sin after justification is a work of unbelief. David, though justified, said plainly, “I have sinned.” Scripture promises forgiveness to sins confessed by believers—not merely to those committed before conversion, as Antinomians argue.
They claim confession only applies:
To sins committed before regeneration (as in Paul’s confession in 1 Timothy 1), or
To the visible church collectively, including unregenerate members.
But this does not hold:
According to Antinomian reasoning, Paul’s sins—already pardoned before committed—were no sins at all. Thus, when Paul calls himself “the chief of sinners,” he would be lying, which is unthinkable. If forgiven sin is not truly sin, then no justified person could ever truthfully confess to having sinned.
Antinomians must also assume that none of the people in passages like Psalm 90, Isaiah 64, or Jeremiah 14 were regenerated believers. But Scripture clearly identifies these confessing individuals as God’s people, who say things like “You are our Father,” and “You are our Savior.” These are not empty titles.
Furthermore, confession is not, as Crisp suggests, merely acknowledging that Christ has satisfied for sin. That is faith, not confession.
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Confession means owning what we have done against God’s law.
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It expresses godly sorrow in words, not just assurance that Christ has died for us.
Chapter XXVII:
The Law Must Still Be Preached to Believers
Contrary to the Antinomian view, the moral law must still be preached as binding believers to personal obedience.
Under the covenant of works, God required perfect personal obedience. While Christ has fulfilled the law as our substitute, and His righteousness alone satisfies divine justice, Antinomians go too far by claiming that believers are now released from all obligation to obey—as if any call to duty were legalism.
We affirm:
The same law of God still binds us, but now under the gracious rule of Christ, not the covenant of works.
Our obedience is not a means of earning righteousness, but a response to grace, flowing from the Spirit.
We urge preachers:
To exalt Christ and preach Him as the center of all Scripture.
To present Christ as the crown and beauty of every duty.
To preach obedience as arising from grace and returning to Christ in praise.
To remind believers that doing earns nothing—it is no merit.
To expose self-righteousness as the great idol of the heart, deeply ingrained from birth.
To teach that imputed righteousness is far beyond human grasp—grace alone imparts it.
To avoid mere moral lectures—the “virtue and vice” preaching of philosophers cannot heal a wounded conscience.
To reject the Antinomian argument that, because the law gives no saving power, it has no binding authority—which is false.
To guard against turning liberty into license. The fact that we are freed from the curse of the law does not mean we are freed from its guidance.
Grace is not lawless. True grace is:
Active and obedient,
Thankful and holy,
Eager to honor the Lawgiver,
Concerned for the glory of the gospel,
Joyful and bold in Christ,
Yet tender and reverent, as if there were no gospel—
And free and fearless, as if there were no curse.