Chapter LXX: Faith Not the Only Work of the Gospel, as Antinomians Claim

Chapter LXX: Faith Not the Only Work of the Gospel, as Antinomians Claim

Chapter LIII

The Necessity of Ordinances and Written, Preached Scripture—Even for the Most Mature Believer

Antinomians wrongly conclude that once a soul is in Christ, it no longer needs to seek fresh supplies of grace. Since the Spirit dwells within, they claim, all motions of obedience must come from within alone. Saltmarsh says that the more obedience is caused by external influences, the more unnatural and forced it is. Towne adds that the believer is already washed from all sin, perfectly just and holy, the friend and son of God, the spouse of Christ, an heir of all things, a conqueror, seated with Christ in heavenly glory. Therefore, they argue, the believer is beyond the law and lives in uninterrupted peace, joy, and contentment.

But this notion of being a “complete man” dismisses the clear biblical witness to our ongoing need for the Word and Spirit to work in us through means. Though the Word dwells in us, it must still be preached externally. Peter stirs up the saints by reminder; Paul finds comfort through Titus. Christ stirs the soul to will and do. Paul pleads three times for help, and Christ responds, “My grace is sufficient for you.” These are not unnecessary—such helps are essential.

If we were already complete in ourselves, there would be:

But Scripture shows that we do go “outside ourselves” to Christ. The Spirit’s indwelling does not eliminate the need for new showers of grace, fresh dew from the heavenly Honeycomb. Our inward stock is not sufficient. If we rested entirely on what is within, we would not know what it is to walk humbly, leaning on God rather than standing on our own clay feet.

It is true: if obedience were only moved by externals—law, affliction, or mere commands—without the inward work of grace, it would be mere hypocrisy. But Antinomians err by imagining that, because believers are justified, they are so perfect that they have no further need of ministers, ordinances, or external helps. They treat these as legal, not Gospel-like.

Yet the Scripture teaches that the most mature saint still needs the Word preached, the Spirit’s fresh working, and the continual nourishment of God’s appointed ordinances.

Chapter LIV

What Peace We May Derive from Gracious Performances

Antinomians claim that when believers seek peace based on their repentance, sanctification, or spiritual performance, they are acting “legally.” According to Towne, such people prefer to find assurance in their own obedience rather than in justification alone, which alone gives true peace.

But our understanding is this:

Assertion 1:

We are not to measure forgiveness by the weight or quantity of our sin and sanctification, as though pardon were given in proportion to the degree of our works. Great sinfulness and even small evidences of grace—like a spark of love to Christ—may point to the forgiveness of many sins. Christ Himself said of the woman, “She loved much, therefore many sins are forgiven”. That conclusion was His, not hers.

Our peace doesn’t come from measuring obedience like a merchant measures cloth. Rather, it flows from the quality of our sanctification—not the quantity. A spark of grace, rightly discerned, may prove a true mine of divine mercy. And the sins that weigh down the conscience, when hated and resisted, can testify that grace is at work.

Assertion 2:

Peace with God is not the same as peace within ourselves. Our peace with God is grounded upon pardon through Christ—“Being justified by faith, we have peace with God”. Yet often believers enjoy assurance of pardon without inward feelings of peace. God’s peace may be secure while the believer’s heart remains troubled.

Assertion 3:

We may have peace with God even when our conscience is disturbed. The covenant of grace remains sure, even if our inward sense of peace is shaken—whether through grievous sin or present unbelief. It is not fitting that we should have full peace with ourselves when we have sinned deeply; that would be carnal security. After Peter denied Christ, it would have been unfitting for him to be at ease.

Unbelief that imagines God’s wrath is sinful, but sorrow and holy anxiety for sin are proper and godly. A spiritual winter may bring storms, and it is not fitting to expect calm, summer-like peace in such a season.

Assertion 4:

Peace of conscience may arise from the presence of saving grace within, but not from works in themselves, separated from Christ. Towne wrongly accuses us of building peace on mere moral effort. Works done outside of Christ, even if they seem beautiful, are nothing but false peace. However, when works flow from true grace and are adorned by Christ’s righteousness, they can support assurance—not as causes, but as fruits.

Though our best obedience is mixed with sin, we can still distinguish between Christ’s gold and our dross, between His pure wine and our sediment. A heart at peace says with Paul, “This is our rejoicing, the testimony of our conscience.” Where joy is, peace is also—for both grow from the same soil.

So the Church says, “With my soul have I desired thee in the night,” and therefore adds, “Lord, thou wilt ordain peace for us.” Why? “For thou hast wrought all our works in us.”

On the Peace That Flows from Gracious Experience and Ordinances

We do not prefer to base our peace on walking with God or on believing in Him through Christ—as if those were the cause of our fundamental peace with God. Far from it. Neither faith nor holy living is the cause of reconciliation. Towne misrepresents us by suggesting that we make works fellow-mediators with Christ. But works have no blood to offer. Christ alone is our peace.

Faith and obedience were not agents in securing our reconciliation. Rather, the peace we feel in our conscience—even that which arises from faith—is not the cause, but the fruit. It is the bloom that grows from the stem, the fragrance from the Rose of Jesse. It has the sweetness and beauty of peace because Christ is present in both our faith and our holiness.

As the morning sky is not the sun itself but the result of its presence, so faith, even when it reaches upward, apprehends more of Christ’s pardon than peace can fully witness to. Sin cries out for vengeance, but faith clings to the atonement of Christ’s blood. Faith soars higher than our limited sense can reach.

It is often the case that, in our early conversion, the Spirit seems to act more visibly and powerfully. Our senses are more tender, our emotions more fervent. Later, with growth and experience, the soul is more steady, and though the motions of grace are stronger, they seem less dazzling to our perception. Immature sense mistakes a flash of grace for its fullness, but mature grace is often less showy and more solid.

What Antinomians aim to do is to discredit all peace that flows from personal sanctification. Because they oppose mortification and repentance, they say our peace must come only from believing that Christ repented and mortified sin for us—so we need not mortify sin ourselves.

Thus they dismiss all spiritual experience of God's work in the soul, especially in times of spiritual trial or desertion. Saltmarsh, for instance, says nothing of spiritual experience in his writings. He regards outward ordinances—promises, preaching, prayer, sacraments—as Old Testament and legal, simply because they are outward and vocal.

But Peter calls them “sincere milk,” and Paul says they were “written for our learning, that through patience and comfort of the Scriptures we might have hope.” Christ calls His commandments, which are spoken and written, a visible badge of discipleship: “If you keep my commandments, you shall abide in my love, as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in His love.”

Job valued the words of God more than his daily food. Christ speaks of ordinances in spiritual—not legal—terms: “Your lips, O my spouse, drop honey; honey and milk are under your tongue.” David calls them sweeter than honey and more precious than gold. Yet Saltmarsh calls them “dead” and “legal,” unless interpreted as purely inward experiences.

But the Anabaptists of old also rejected the Word and the ministry, appealing instead to the law written on the heart and the inner anointing. Antinomians do the same today, rejecting all spiritual experience—even though Scripture says “experience works hope.” The Church looked back to former seasons of grace: “I remembered my songs in the night.” David longed to see God’s power and glory as he once had in the sanctuary. Peter says, “If so be you have tasted that the Lord is gracious.”

To neglect spiritual experience is sinful. Elihu rebukes those who never ask, “Where is God my Maker, who gives songs in the night?” Antinomians resist this because they teach that there is no essential difference between the graces of hypocrites and believers. Thus, no spiritual experience can distinguish one from the other.

Moreover, they reject all inherent or created evidences of grace in the believer as deceptive, arguing that even the voice or testimony of the Spirit can be falsely mimicked. Yet, just as there is a voice-like impression in the false professor, and a faith-like shadow that is not true faith, so too there are true experiences—internal testimonies of the Spirit’s work—that are real and enduring.

These experiences are not the ground of our justification, but they are the Spirit’s witnesses, working in and with the soul, and not to be despised.

Chapter LV

How Far Inherent Qualifications and Gracious Actions Can Prove We Are in a State of Grace

Antinomians loudly oppose the use of signs and evidences of justification, because they ultimately reject sanctification itself.

Saltmarsh argues that to ground assurance on works—such as a measure of repentance or obedience—is to lean on our own righteousness. He finds no infallible mark in sanctification, only a weak motive for persuasion. The Libertines in New England likewise claim that even if a man can prove a gracious work in himself and that Christ is its author, this is still a sandy foundation. They call it a soul-destroying error to use sanctification as evidence of justification. They argue that the dimmer our sanctification appears, the brighter our justification shines. For them, assurance is found not in crucifying the flesh, but in believing that Christ has crucified it for us.

Crisp, Cornwell, Towne, and Saltmarsh all teach that signs like love for the brethren or sincerity are marks for others to discern, not for our personal assurance.

In response, we never taught that a natural man’s religious activity, blind zeal, or outward reformation can prove true conversion. We reject the idea that assurance should be drawn from mere outward morality while the heart remains unchanged. Indeed, Antinomians claim all our evidences are as dung. We agree, they are not evidence of legal or perfect righteousness—nor do we pretend they are.

Assertion 1:

Marks such as love for the brethren and sincerity are not valid evidences unless they flow from grace as their root—unless they have the Spirit for their author, and Christ for their crown. Without these, they do not reveal but rather obscure our justification.

If we could look beyond ourselves—seeing the operations of grace not as our own accomplishments, but as the Spirit’s work, and Christ’s love acting in us—then these signs would be clearer. As when we look beyond the sun and moon to perceive God’s majesty in creation, we are less prone to idolatry than when we fixate on the created thing itself. So too in this matter: when we see the Spirit’s work as a reflection of Christ’s glory, and not merely as something within us, we find a surer ground for assurance.

If it is merely natural reasoning—a man’s own sparks—that leads to the conclusion, “I love the brethren, therefore I am translated from death to life,” then it is like moonlight, dim and uncertain. But if this reasoning is informed by the light of saving grace, then it is sound and reliable. Scripture itself uses this form of argument: “By this we know that we know Him, if we keep His commandments,” and “We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love the brethren.”

These statements are not intended merely to help us judge others, but are given for our personal assurance. John writes his epistle to provide such evidences: “These things have I written to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, that you may know that you have eternal life.” Clearly, the Spirit aims to distinguish dead faith from true faith, and to refute those who claim faith alone without obedience is sufficient for salvation.

John speaks plainly: “In this the children of God and the children of the devil are manifest—whoever does not practice righteousness is not of God, nor is he who does not love his brother.” Therefore, some in John's day must have claimed that it was enough simply to believe in Christ, and that they were under no obligation to keep the written commandments. John refutes this, teaching that those born of God must do righteousness.

He says, “Let us not love in word or tongue only, but in deed and in truth. And by this we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before Him.” Again, “Whatever we ask, we receive of Him, because we keep His commandments and do what is pleasing in His sight.” But this does not make our works co-mediators with Christ. Rather, John argues from the effect to the cause: obedience and love reveal regeneration. Contrary to Antinomian teaching, those who indulge in sin and yet claim salvation by a bare act of faith are self-deceived. “Little children, let no one deceive you. He who practices righteousness is righteous, just as He is righteous. He who sins is of the devil.”

Some in our own time echo the same error: that righteousness is neither a condition, nor a means, nor even a sign of salvation. But this is plainly contrary to the Apostle’s teaching.

Now, Antinomians claim that logical reasoning—using practical syllogisms—can produce only human faith, not true divine faith. They call for the abolition of logic altogether. Certainly, carnal and proud reasoning that exalts itself against God must be rejected. But to discard natural, God-given reason is contrary to both the Old and New Testaments. Scripture uses arguments, exhortations, and commands to bring conviction, stir faith, and move believers to pursue holiness. These are not mere human devices, but instruments appointed by the Spirit.

The Libertines—whom the Antinomians now follow—taught that laying aside reason and knowledge of good and evil was true mortification. But Scripture teaches the opposite: we are to use sanctified reason and knowledge to discern sin and righteousness, and thereby walk in the truth.

Assertion 2.

Yes, we may know that we are in a state of grace through our holy walking and acts of faith. Moreover, we may discern the truth of our holy walking by other acts of the same kind. John writes that by loving the brethren, we know we are in Christ—and that we love God and believe in Him. He also says the reverse is true: “By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and keep His commandments. For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments.”

Therefore, the love of God in us confirms our faith, and both confirm our justification. All of this is made known as the Spirit sheds light upon the graces within us. He causes us to see our love for God by our love for the brethren, and our love for the brethren by our love for God (1 John 3:14; 5:2).

Assertion 3.

The doubts we have about whether we truly believe often come from one source, while doubts about whether we love the brethren come from another. These graces provide different evidences. In seasons of spiritual darkness—perhaps when we’re overwhelmed by past sins—we may question whether we believe at all, like Job, David, Heman, or Jonah, who feared being cast off by God. Yet at the same time, David’s heart was still drawn to the saints with whom he worshiped (Psalm 42).

Many die in the faith after seasons of doubt, unable for a time to affirm they believed. Yet they remain convinced they loved the brethren. Though they cannot make a firm conclusion, “Therefore I am in Christ,” it is not for lack of evidence, but because the Spirit has not yet granted the assurance. They may acknowledge the premises—“I love the brethren”—and know that Scripture teaches, “Therefore I have passed from death to life” (1 John 3:14), but unless the Spirit breathes life into the conclusion for the comfort of their soul, it may remain dormant.

This is where Antinomians are misled. They assume that logical, convincing arguments from marks of grace necessarily produce spiritual assurance. But natural conviction is not the same as the Spirit’s witness. They then wrongly conclude that if a person finds assurance through sanctification, he must be trusting in his own righteousness. Cornwell argues that such a person is justified by works. The New England Libertines say that one cannot find assurance through sanctification without building on it. And Mr. Town claims we must forget all holy walking altogether. They even assert that true poverty of spirit removes all sight of grace.

But these conclusions are false. First, natural evidence cannot bring spiritual peace. Second, we may forget our holy walking as to our righteousness before God—but not as to our comfort or assurance. That is the humility Paul speaks of: “I know nothing against myself, yet I am not thereby justified.” Indeed, we must count all as loss when it comes to justification. Yet it is both lawful and spiritually wise to remember our obedience as a support to our faith.

When Hezekiah lay dying, he found comfort in this: “Remember, O Lord, how I have walked before you in truth and with a perfect heart.”

David says, “I have kept the ways of the Lord and not wickedly departed from my God.”

Job testifies, “My foot has held fast to His steps... I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my necessary food.”

Jeremiah affirms, “Your words were found, and I ate them.”

The Church says, “I am lovely.” And again, “I sought Him whom my soul loves.”

“My heart was awake... We have waited for You... the desire of our soul is for Your name.”

This is not mere legalism. Spiritual poverty was commanded in the Old Testament, and trusting in one’s own righteousness was condemned there just as in the New. Paul, like the prophets before him, called for a humble spirit, and a faith that rests not in self, but in Christ alone—yet strengthened by the Spirit’s witness through holy walking.

Assertion 4.

Antinomians object that signs of sincerity—such as love, holiness, and universal obedience—cannot provide assurance of salvation, since these may also appear in hypocrites. But this argument is the same used by Papists to deny that anyone can have certainty of grace.

If we follow their reasoning, then not only marks of sanctification, but even the highest experiences of faith—the "broad seal" or direct witness of the Spirit—could be counterfeited. A devil appearing as an angel of light may imitate the voice of the Spirit, counterfeit the faith of the elect, and mimic inward experiences. By their logic, nothing in the believer’s life can be trusted: not Christ dwelling in the heart (Eph. 3:17), not the seed of God remaining in him, not the anointing that teaches all things, not the indwelling of the Spirit, nor the Father and Son making their abode with him. Even a new heart, the removal of the stony heart, a circumcised heart, or the law written within—these too must all be uncertain and potentially false signs.

But such reasoning would prove too much. There is no living creature—man, beast, or bird—that cannot be imitated by a painter. There’s no flower in the garden that doesn’t have a wild look-alike in the mountains. The devil is a skilled imitator, but that doesn’t mean the real thing is unknowable. A believer, who truly has the Spirit of Christ and His graces within, may certainly know—by the Spirit—that these are genuine and not counterfeit.

It doesn’t follow that, because a madman doesn’t know he’s mad, or a sleeping man doesn’t know he’s asleep, that a sober, awake person doesn’t know he is sober or awake. Paul wasn’t dreaming when he said, “This is our rejoicing, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity… we conducted ourselves in the world” (2 Cor. 1:12). The saints aren’t speaking illusions when they say to God, “The desire of our soul is for Your name,” or “Our heart has not turned back” (Isa. 26:8; Ps. 44:18). They knew, by the Spirit’s witness, that grace was truly in them.

So too the prophets knew, not by guesswork, but with certainty, that God spoke to them: “The Lord has sent me,” said Jeremiah (Jer. 26:15), and “The Lord has spoken—who can but prophesy?” said Amos (Amos 3:8). Abraham did not act on conjecture but on faith when he took his son to sacrifice him. Just as God speaks to His people by His Word, so also He speaks through His gracious work in their hearts.

As Augustine said, by a “heavenly taste,” he knew the difference between God revealing Himself and the delusions of his own soul.

But Antinomians argue: If assurance comes from the testimony of the Spirit and of Christ, then we are enlightened by the Sun. But if we seek assurance through our own good works, they say, we are like those trying to gather light from a candle at noon. This, they say, leads only to a fallible, uncertain assurance, not the infallible confidence that comes from faith alone.

Response:

We do not deny that the Spirit and the Word give the highest assurance. But the Spirit, who authored the Word, also works inwardly through sanctification, enabling us to see that we are in Christ. This is not fetching light from a candle, but recognizing the fruit of the Sun shining in our hearts. When our good works are rightly understood—not as the basis for righteousness, but as evidence of union with Christ—they serve, by the Spirit’s illumination, to confirm what faith already rests upon: the finished work of Christ.

Answer 1. On the Assurance of Faith and the Witness of the Spirit

The question often troubling weak believers is this: How can I know that the light I receive—the assurance of my interest in Christ—is truly from Christ and not a delusion? Whether that assurance comes through Christ’s immediate illumination or the Spirit’s inward testimony (as Antinomians claim, apart from the Word), it is still a created act within us. But if no inward grace or qualification can give certain evidence of our union with Christ, then how can we know that it is truly Christ whom we rest upon?

Antinomians argue that the light of the Sun—meaning the direct witness of the Spirit—cannot deceive, while the light of a candle—meaning evidences like love to the brethren—can. But I ask: What if a deceiving spirit—like a noonday devil—interposes himself as an angel of light? Then the supposed Sun becomes counterfeit. And how do we know that our act of discerning this light is true, since it too is an inward act of grace? How can we be certain that the light shining is truly Christ’s, and not a false imitation?

When Mary heard Christ speak to her in the garden, she at first thought He was the gardener. How then can we be sure that the voice we hear internally is Christ’s voice and not a deception, especially if it comes without the confirming witness of the Word?

Moreover, the same Spirit who assures us by direct witness also teaches us through Scripture and the fruits of grace. The Spirit gives us knowledge of the things freely given to us by God (1 Cor. 2:12). It is that same Spirit who testifies that we are children of God—whether through the inward witness or through the evidences of grace, such as love for the brethren.

Therefore, is the Spirit’s testimony less certain when He assures us by the evidence of our love and sanctification than when He assures us directly? No. Both are His work, and both are sure.

Take Abraham as an example. When God told him to offer Isaac, Abraham believed. Now, had a prophet like Moses delivered the same command, Abraham would still have been bound to obey, trusting it was the Word of God—so long as he was assured of the prophet’s divine commission. And could not Abraham have doubted whether the voice he heard was from God directly, or whether Moses was a true prophet or a deceiver?

This is the very difficulty Antinomians must resolve for themselves. The Spirit’s assurance, whether immediate or through means, is of the same certainty, because it is the same Spirit bearing witness—whether through inward illumination or through the fruits of grace wrought in us.

Assertion 5: The Spirit and the Word in Assurance

We affirm: the truth of what the Spirit speaks does not depend on the Word, but our confidence in the Spirit’s voice does depend on the Word. For we know the Spirit by the Word, just as we perceive the sun by its light—but we do not know the light by the sun's substance. Now that God has sealed the canon of Scripture, Peter tells us that the prophetic Word is more sure even than the Father’s voice from heaven (2 Pet. 1). Therefore, any spirit claiming to justify the ungodly without repentance, or to affirm someone walking in darkness as reconciled to God, cannot be the true Spirit. The Spirit of Christ will not contradict the Word. He gladly submits to be tested by His own handwriting—His Word.

It is unnecessary to set in contrast the assurance that comes from evidences of grace and the Spirit’s direct testimony, as if the former were from ourselves and the latter from the Spirit. Both are the Spirit’s work. Just as the Bridegroom's letter and his love tokens both testify to his affection, so too do the Spirit’s internal witness and His graces within us. These are not two different loves, but one and the same love revealed in different ways. And while Antinomians claim these signs might be counterfeit, we hold that Christ reveals Himself through them no less than through immediate impressions of the Spirit.

We see this clearly in the confessions of the saints—Job, David, Paul, Hezekiah—who openly declare their upright walk and sincere love for God, knowing such graces could only come from the Holy Spirit. Their conclusions are not carnal reasoning but the Spirit’s own testimony joined with theirs (1 Cor. 2:12). Antinomians wrongly claim these inferences offer only weak, uncertain evidence. But we do not separate these acts from saving faith. We affirm they are fruits of grace and never claimed that, apart from Christ, they offer any evidence of salvation.

Assertion 6: Assurance Through Holy Walking Is Real, but Mediate

The assurance we gain from our Christian obedience is mediate—it comes by inference, not immediate vision. It is assurance by “sense,” not by direct faith. John says, "By this we know that we know him, if we keep his commandments" (1 John 2:3); "We know we have passed from death to life, because we love the brethren" (1 John 3:14). This is not to say our works are the foundation of our faith. The promises of God, the sufficiency of Christ, and His free grace alone are the foundation. Our works are like ropes that draw the ship to shore—but they are not the rock nor the shoreline.

They are not the light by which we judge the beauty of Christ, nor are they the reason we rest upon His blood. They are landmarks, helping us measure our nearness to Christ. They are not the cause of our salvation, but witnesses against unbelief. If I question whether I am in Christ, I will naturally question whether my works are from faith. If I doubt the tree’s nature, I’ll doubt the fruit.

But in glory, when faith gives way to sight, such evidences will no longer be needed. For then we shall know fully, even as we are fully known.

Chapter LVI

How Duties and Delight in Them Do Not Take Us Off from Christ

Antinomians argue that we should not even look at our good works, for to see them, they say, is to trust in them. Spiritual poverty, they claim, is not seeing our sanctification at all. Therefore, they reason, we should avoid holy walking altogether and live loosely, that by sowing sin, we might reap more grace. Some even say, “I know I am Christ’s, not because I crucify the flesh, but because I believe Christ has done it for me.” They claim the darker our sanctification appears, the brighter our justification shines.

They further assert that long, frequent performance of holy duties is a mark of legalism and being under the curse of the Law. To take delight in God’s service, they say, is spiritual adultery. According to them, the Spirit works most when we work least. So, to be rich in good works is, in their view, to be poor in grace. To omit duties entirely, they claim, is the path to experiencing God’s gracious work—sin, that grace may abound; be sick, that Christ may administer Gospel medicine. In this view, to labor abundantly in the work of the Lord is to go astray. Saltmarsh even interprets “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” as if it meant doing nothing ourselves. Sanctification, he says, is Christ doing everything for us, including believing, repenting, and mortifying sin perfectly in our place. Thus, to do nothing is to be fully sanctified; the less we do, the more Christ does.

Objection 1

Christ didn’t say to Peter, “Take heart because you are holy and obedient,” but rather, “I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail.” — Saltmarsh

Answer: True. Christ in that passage doesn’t list signs of Peter’s faith, but rather gives the reason Peter will not fall away: Christ’s own intercession. This does not deny that believers may know their faith by its fruits.

Objection 2

Christ didn’t say to the disciples, “Be comforted by your humility and obedience,” but rather gave promises like, “Believe in God, believe also in me.” — Saltmarsh

Answer: We do not make sanctification the ground or cause of faith, only a sign of it. Christ could have rightly said, “You know you love me because you love those begotten of me.”

Clarifications

We do not make our sanctification a secret mediator in place of Christ. Such errors flow not from the doctrine itself, but from the corruptions of human nature.

Chapter. LVII:

Of the Liberty Which Christ Has Purchased for Us by His Death

Antinomians often appeal to Christian liberty, and so do we. The real question is: What is this liberty Christ has secured? It is essential we do not confuse liberty with license.

However, we are not freed from the law’s role as a directing and binding rule for holy living. Believers do not sin with impunity because they are under grace. Our freedom is not like that from the ceremonial law—it is not a freedom from obedience, but a freedom unto obedience.

The end of redemption is that we may serve God in holiness and righteousness. This is the substance of the moral law, summarized in the two great commandments: to love God and neighbor.

The Scriptures call it a misuse of liberty when we use it as a license to sin. Rather, we are exhorted to fulfill the law by loving our neighbor as ourselves. Serving sin is slavery; serving God is true liberty. As David says, “I will walk at liberty, for I seek thy precepts.” Christ has made us kings and priests unto God, and kings are the freest of all men—especially those who rule over their own lusts.

The gospel urges us to obey God's external commandments, to have our conduct honorable among unbelievers, and to abstain from fleshly lusts. Sanctification is the will of God, commanded by the Lord Jesus Himself. We are to be holy as He is holy.

The law does not cease to be law for believers simply because it cannot condemn them. To say that the law’s power to command is inseparable from its power to condemn is a false assumption. Even if it no longer condemns, it still commands.

Luther rightly said that the law, as a covenant of works, ceases to be a justifying or condemning law for the believer. But it remains as a rule of life. It is a fallacy to argue: "The law does not justify or condemn me; therefore, it is no law to me at all." That’s like saying a king who pardons a criminal no longer has authority to command him.

Therefore, while the law cannot save or justify, it still binds us to obedience—not as a covenant of works, but as a rule of life under grace. It is no longer hedged about with sacrifices or ceremonies, but remains the same in substance and moral authority. Its abolishment as a condemning covenant does not nullify its eternal essence.

Of the Liberty That Christ Has Purchased, and the Binding Power of the Moral Law

Antinomians assert that Gospel grace frees believers from all obligation to God’s commands. Since they are pardoned, they imagine that even if a believer commits adultery or murder, he is guilty of no sin before God. Their reasoning is this: once pardoned, always pardoned—so “believe and be pardoned, and then sin if you can.”

One of the most extreme voices among them, Mr. Randall (as cited by Mr. Gataker), preached that it is as impossible for Christ to sin as it is for a child of God to sin. Mr. Simson claimed that if a man knows himself to be in a state of grace by the Spirit, even drunkenness or murder is not seen as sin in God’s sight. According to this view, when Abraham lied about his wife, all his actions remained perfectly holy before God. Randall even taught that it is blasphemy for a believer to ask pardon for sin.

This leads to the conclusion that the adultery of a believer is only seemingly sin—sin in the eyes of the world, but not before God. Town adds: "To faith, there is no sin."

But this contradicts the words of Christ Himself, who said, “Whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:19). That is, they will be excluded, as “least” is contrasted with being “great” in the kingdom.

The Antinomian claim—that believers are free from all obligation to obey—is refuted by this very passage. If Christ had come to remove all obligation to the law, He would not have issued warnings for those who break it or commendations for those who keep and teach it. In their view, Christ removed every aspect of the law for believers: its authority, its commands, its threats, and its promises. What then remains of the law for believers? Nothing at all.

Yet they also say, inconsistently, that Christ came not to destroy the law but to fulfill it. But that cannot be Christ’s meaning here, for His argument is this: if those who break the law are excluded from heaven, and those who keep it are honored in the kingdom, then clearly He did not come to destroy the law. The conclusion follows: He came to uphold and fulfill it, not by removing it as a rule of life, but by establishing it in its rightful place under grace.

By the Antinomian view, however, no one is excluded from heaven for breaking the law, nor admitted for keeping it—since, they say, believers are under no law at all. But Scripture says, where there is no law, there is no transgression (Rom. 4:15). Saltmarsh applies this to believers, arguing that once justified, they can no longer sin in any meaningful sense. This is a gross perversion of grace.

5. The Antinomian Error in Misunderstanding Christian Liberty

The Antinomians define Christian liberty as a kind of reckless freedom—a lawless walking without any fear of sin or of violating God’s Law, which they treat as a mere shadow or illusion. They insist that fearing sin—either before or after it is committed—is servile and legalistic. According to them, being compelled to serve God out of fear of judgment or desire for reward is contrary to grace. They argue that the Law commands such slavish obedience, and thus, to fear sin is to live in unbelief and bondage.

But this is a serious misrepresentation of the Law of God. Scripture teaches that the Law commands us to fear sin precisely because it offends the majesty of God. “Happy is the man who fears always” (Prov. 28:14); this kind of fear is not bondage, but wisdom. To fear sin is to oppose hardness of heart. To fear making an oath, lest one be ensnared, is commended.

The Law requires a holy fear—not a servile one—that flows from reverence for God. Antinomians wrongly claim that any fear of sin is unbelief, as if it denies the believer’s sinlessness in God's sight. They go so far as to say that a justified believer is as free of sin as Christ Himself, and that to believe otherwise is to dishonor God and fall under condemnation.

But this is to confuse the believer’s legal standing in justification with his ongoing sanctification. While the believer is truly justified and clothed in Christ’s righteousness, he is not yet perfectly sanctified in this life. The Law of God never commands sinful motives like fear of punishment or pursuit of reward above God Himself. It never demands obedience that is mercenary or servile.

Rather, the Law commands a holy, filial, and free obedience—motivated by love for God, not by self-interest or dread. As Paul says, “The Law is spiritual” (Rom. 7:14); it is holy, just, and good (Rom. 7:12). The fear of sin that arises from a renewed heart is not slavery but sonship—it reflects the heart of one who loves the Father and trembles at the thought of grieving Him.

6. Christian Liberty Does Not Abolish Civil Obedience

Christian liberty does not mean freedom from obedience to lawful authorities—such as magistrates, kings, parliaments, or masters. As Peter warns, to use our liberty as a cloak for wickedness is to abuse grace. This false liberty gave occasion for the accusations of ignorant and foolish men, especially when some early Antinomians claimed they were freed from subjection to human authorities by virtue of their spiritual freedom.

Antinomians teach, either explicitly or implicitly, that saints should not obey rulers who are not themselves believers—as if civil authority is based on grace. This aligns them with Roman Catholic teaching, which grounds civil power in spiritual worthiness. But Scripture gives no such foundation.

Furthermore, Antinomians claim that when believers commit sins such as murder or adultery, these acts are not truly sins before God. They argue that God sees no sin in the justified, and therefore He cannot punish or even rebuke them for these acts. But if these actions are not sins against God’s Law, then they cannot be sins against human society either. For Scripture teaches that magistrates are God’s servants, bearing the sword to punish evildoers. If the act is not truly evil before God, then the magistrate has no just cause to punish.

Some may object: “God’s forbearance in not punishing a sin is no rule for the magistrate.” This is true in general. However, Antinomians go further—they deny that such deeds are sins at all. They claim that believers’ adultery, theft, lying, and murder are no more sins against God's Law than anything Christ Himself does.

To avoid the clear implications of this view, Antinomians invent distinctions. They say such sins are real only “before men,” or in “conversation,” not in “conscience” or “faith.” They are “sins to the flesh,” not to the spirit. Thus, according to them, the magistrate punishes people for imaginary crimes—adulteries and murders that only appear sinful to human eyes but are not truly so in God’s sight.

But this is absurd. If no Law of God condemns these acts, how can a magistrate, in good conscience, declare them crimes worthy of death? He would be executing people for fictional offenses. And if that is true, then adultery and murder—committed by believers—must be seen as innocent deeds. This is a grievous denial of both God’s Law and human justice.

Chapter LVIII

Antinomians teach that believers must not walk in their conversation as in the sight of God, but must live by faith with God

Antinomians, along with the Familists, draw false conclusions from a misunderstood doctrine of justification. They claim that the justified should not concern themselves with living uprightly before men or walking sincerely on earth. Instead, they insist that believers must live “by faith” in the presence of God alone—supposedly beyond sin. As a result, they reject the need for sincere and holy conduct in everyday life.

Dr. Taylor rightly argues that the moral law remains binding upon believers, since the same sins are forbidden both before and after faith. Therefore, by grace in Christ, believers are called to the same obedience. In response, Mr. Towne counters that believers should leave such obedience “below,” and walk with God by faith in Christ’s righteousness alone, as Enoch did.

They claim that, though justification is a single, complete act, its effect is to continually clear the conscience of sin, keeping the believer in constant favor with God—even while sin persists in the flesh. They liken the presence of indwelling sin to the Jebusites remaining in Canaan: sin may remain, but faith supposedly lifts the believer above its presence.

But this teaching is dangerously deceptive. It promotes a spiritualized version of Christian life that excuses fleshly living.

This is evident in the repeated biblical description of Israel’s godly kings: "He did what was right in the sight of the Lord." That phrase does not describe merely their faith, but their visible, righteous conduct among the people.

So too, Scripture exhorts us to:

All of this teaches us to live our lives as before God’s face, in the midst of our earthly responsibilities.

But Antinomian doctrine denies this. It teaches that even if believers live like carnal men—serving their lusts, lying, cheating, committing immorality—they must still believe that God sees no sin in them. Their “living by faith,” they say, is to believe that God does not see their wickedness at all. In this way, they claim to walk with God like Enoch—while excusing a life of sin.

This is not living by faith, but walking in darkness while calling it light. The Scripture testifies against such presumption.

2. Antinomians claim that only the believer’s flesh sins, not the person.

As the Libertines once said in Calvin’s day, “I sin not, but my donkey”—meaning, my flesh. In this way, Antinomians say that the justified person in Christ does not sin in conscience, because only the flesh remains under the Law (as Mr. Towne asserts). But this is false. Sin, by its very nature, is a violation of God's Law and cannot be excused as something unrelated to the person. God, whose judgments are always righteous, must call adultery what it is—adultery; and murder—murder. Yet Antinomians claim that nothing a believer does—no act of adultery or murder—is sin, nor can God see it as sin. Eaton asks, How can the Lord see sin where there is none? and concludes that there is no more sin in a believer than in Christ Himself.

3. Eaton says it doesn’t matter if we feel sin within us, because faith looks away from feeling.

He argues that we feel sin and death in us only so that faith may cling more firmly to the Word, for faith does not depend on sense. It shuts its eyes and opens its ears to what God has spoken. Now, it is true that faith trusts in the pardon of sin and the removal of guilt—truths that lie beyond the reach of sense. But faith must not close its eyes to believe a lie—namely, that adultery is not sin before God just because a justified person commits it. The glory of God is not helped by falsehood.

4. Towne says the justified man lives forever in God’s sight by faith.

But are we to believe that the resurrection has already come? Antinomians here fall in with the errors of Hymenaeus and Philetus. Justification is not glorification. The justified are not yet made perfectly clean and sinless, like Christ (despite Eaton's blasphemous claim). Towne admits the “Jebusite remains in the land”—meaning sin still dwells in believers.

So, though believers are not forced to sin—as Towne falsely claims—they still do sin. And that sin remains sin, even in the justified, and God sees it as such.

Chapter LIX.

Justification as a Single Act, Yet Sins are Daily Forgiven

We affirm that justification is a single, indivisible act, not gradual or successive as sanctification is. Justification is a legal declaration—God’s judicial act of absolving the sinner from all guilt and condemnation, past, present, and future—based solely on the imputed righteousness of Christ, received by faith. Scripture never presents pardon as partial or progressive, as if believers were only half-washed or partially freed from wrath.

Paul declares: There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus (Rom. 8:1). Thus, a justified person is never again received from a state of condemnation, as if they fell out of grace and needed to be justified again. Justification is never revoked.

However, we still affirm that sins are daily pardoned. Not in the sense of a new justification, but in the application and renewed experience of the once-for-all atonement. The believer receives continual assurance and comfort as the Spirit brings fresh application of Christ’s sacrifice. We do not teach that faith is a cause or condition of Christ’s atonement itself, but that believers are continually brought to rest in Christ’s completed work through faith.

Moreover, God forgives sins in another sense—when He removes temporal chastisements and fatherly discipline. To “bear our sins” often refers in Scripture to bearing their consequences (Mic. 7:8–9). When Nathan told David, The Lord also hath put away thy sin; thou shalt not die (2 Sam. 12:13), it referred primarily to sparing David from temporal death, though the temporal rod still remained in his house.

We do not, like the Papists, claim that God forgives guilt but leaves punishment to be satisfied through purgatory or temporal suffering. Christ alone satisfied divine justice. Still, God's ongoing fatherly discipline is distinct from eternal wrath, and His forgiveness often includes removal of temporal affliction.

Justification, then, is not to be confused with these repeated pardons. Justification is a once-for-all, forensic act by which God, in the court of heaven, declares the sinner righteous for Christ’s sake. It is a translation from the state of wrath into the state of grace, a new legal status that is never reversed.

David, at the time Nathan declared his sin forgiven, was already justified—freed from eternal condemnation. Yet he still experienced ongoing pardon, not as justification, but as a fresh application of grace in response to new transgressions.

Thus, though justification is not repeated, God’s fatherly forgiveness is daily. The distinction must be maintained: justification is a once-for-all act of being received into God’s favor; daily pardon is God’s ongoing cleansing, renewing fellowship, and applying the merits of Christ to the believer's conscience.

Chapter LX

On Whether Sins Are Forgiven Before They Are Committed, and the Antinomian Error

One might ask: Do Antinomians rightly teach that sins are forgiven before they are committed? I answer—if we take this in a sound, biblical sense (not in the Antinomian way)—then yes. When a believer is justified, he is placed in a state where he shall never be condemned, even for sins he has not yet committed. That is, the believer is eternally secure in Christ. Just as when a father’s treason is pardoned and his estate restored, the legal benefit may extend to his unborn child, even though the child is not yet conceived. Yet this cannot be said to be a proper justification or a strict pardon of one who does not yet exist and is not capable of guilt.

However, in the Antinomian sense, the idea that sins are removed before they are committed is a grave error. Here's why:

Chapter LXI

How Faith Justifies, and the Antinomian Error Exposed

Saltmarsh claims that neither faith nor repentance should be preached apart from Christ, and that neither should be presented as bringing Christ into the soul—rather, Christ is said to bring them into the soul.

But if he accuses us of preaching faith or repentance apart from Christ, he should offer proof. He also wrongly joins them together as if they function alike. In truth:

Objection 1. Christ is not ours by any act of our own, but by God's sovereign imputation. Therefore, Christ is not ours by faith.

Answer. It is true that Christ is not ours by any act of our own as a meritorious cause. But it does not follow that He is not ours by faith as the means of receiving Him. Faith is the hand that receives the gift; it is the door that opens to let in the King of Glory. Just as bread comes ultimately by God's power over creation, yet is made ours through labor and reaping, so Christ is ours by God's grace, yet received by faith. To deny this is faulty reasoning.

Objection 2. If faith gives us Christ, then the more faith we have, the more justified we are.

Answer. This does not follow. Justification is not by the degree of faith, but by the truth of faith. A weak but living faith justifies no less than a strong one. A beggar with a feeble arm receives alms no less than one with strength, so long as the hand is stretched forth.

Objection 3. If Christ is ours by faith, then when faith fails, we lose justification.

Answer. Again, the conclusion does not follow. Just as a man who eats is nourished, even though he is not always eating—so a believer may be justified though his faith is not always in active exercise. If justification were lost every time faith wavered, then God would be constantly withdrawing and restoring pardon, clothing and unclothing the soul in righteousness. This leads to the despairing theology of the Novatians, not to the stability of the gospel.

Objection 4. Can a sinner be too defiled for a Savior, too wounded for a Physician, or too filthy for the Fountain of Christ’s blood?

Answer. This proves nothing against justification by faith. Rather, it highlights the pride of one who, under the appearance of humility, refuses to look to Christ because he thinks himself too filthy and unworthy. True humility acknowledges our need and runs to Christ for cleansing. Some, like proud beggars, know they must ask but refuse unless they can do so dressed in finery. That is not gospel poverty of spirit.

Objection 5. Whoever offers Christ offers all conditions in Him—faith and repentance included—for Christ is exalted to give repentance.

Answer. This assumes that faith is something produced by the sinner himself, which is false. Faith is not man-made, but God-given. In justification, Christ provides both the condition (faith) and the righteousness that justifies. He knocks from without (Rev. 3:20), but also opens the heart from within (Acts 16:14). He never enters apart from the door being opened, yet He opens it Himself. So in justification, Christ both offers righteousness and creates faith in the soul. Repentance, though precious, does not replace faith, as the Antinomians falsely teach.

Objection 6. To offer Christ is no different than offering any other grace—since the sinner is equally unfit for both.

Answer. This objection wrongly assumes that because sinners are unprepared for faith, faith must be no different than Christ Himself in relation to justification. But Paul teaches otherwise (Romans 3–4; Galatians 2–3). Faith is not a meritorious preparation that earns righteousness, but the God-appointed means by which we receive it. Though faith and Christ are both gifts of grace, it does not follow that justification occurs without faith. If it did, the gospel would be overturned, and Christ would justify unbelievers, which Scripture plainly denies.

Objection 7. Justification is a new creation—therefore, it requires no preparation.

Answer. It is indeed a work of divine omnipotence for Christ to reveal His justifying grace. But even so, it requires faith—not as a condition we supply, but as the means God grants by which we know and receive that grace. Antinomians reject this, but they must then deny the need for any faith at all. Yet Scripture teaches that faith is the hand that receives the gift, not a meritorious cause of the gift.

Objection 8. Should sinners refuse the blood of Christ simply because their vessels are not clean, when that very blood makes them clean?

Answer. Agreed—sinners must not wait to be clean before coming to Christ. But it does not follow that we are justified by a perfect faith, or that we must be free of sin to receive Christ. Rather, Christ first gives faith and then pours in His cleansing blood. No one receives Christ while remaining an unbeliever. Faith, though imperfect, is still necessary. Christ justifies through faith—not as a price or merit—but as the God-appointed means. Thus, the truth remains: we are justified by faith, which apprehends Christ’s righteousness.

Objection 9. If God justifies only the believer, then how can He be said to justify the ungodly, as Scripture states? For a believer is no longer ungodly, but holy and cleansed from sin.

Answer. We affirm that God does not justify the ungodly as ungodly, or as devoid of faith. By the order of nature—not necessarily by a gap of time—he is first a believer in Christ, and then justified. Scripture says God justifies the ungodly in a divided sense (in sensu diviso), not in a composite sense (sensu composito). Just as Scripture says the lame walk, the dumb speak, the blind see, and the dead live—it does not mean they do so while remaining lame, dumb, blind, or dead.

If Christ caused the blind, while still blind, to see, or the dead, while still dead, to live, we would face an outright contradiction—something Aristotle taught us to avoid. Yet Antinomians, who claim a believer's adultery is no adultery, appear willing to abandon all sound reasoning. This aligns them with Libertines, who taught that recognizing sin or holiness as such is itself sinful—a fruit of Adam’s fall and the knowledge of good and evil.

But someone might argue: If faith must precede justification, and faith is an act of sanctification, then we are sanctified before being justified. That would mean we can please God, as believers, before we are in Christ. Thus, we’d be exercising spiritual life before being engrafted into the Vine, which is Christ. But to believe is surely an act of spiritual life.

Answer continued. If faith is the instrument or necessary condition (as Paul teaches throughout Romans, Galatians, Hebrews, and elsewhere), then this order does not imply any theological error or absurdity. The sequence is as follows:

Thus, justification occurs immediately upon faith, but not before it. And faith itself is a gift, worked in the heart by the Spirit through the Gospel.

Each step necessarily presupposes the one before it. Antinomians cannot escape the difficulty they themselves create: namely, they claim that we are justified—and therefore pleasing to God and enjoying the benefits of election (Rom. 8:29)—before we believe. That is, they assert that justification precedes not only faith but even the knowledge or awareness of it.

Yet such knowledge is itself a spiritual act—a product of the life of God within, flowing from the new heart granted in regeneration. Faith, being an act of saving grace, necessarily arises from this renewed life. Thus, if we have true spiritual knowledge that we are justified, we have already experienced the infusion of grace and the operation of sanctification—before justification, according to their scheme.

But this contradicts the clear teaching of Scripture, which states that we are justified by faith. God justifies the one who believes in Him who justifies the ungodly. Faith, therefore, must come before justification—not necessarily in time, but in order of nature.

God gives the Spirit—of sanctification, of adoption, of faith—to those who are still spiritually dead, as in Deuteronomy 30:6, Isaiah 44:3, Ezekiel 36:26, and Ephesians 2:1–5. He does this for Christ’s sake alone. Therefore, before we are united to Christ by justification and made branches of the vine, we receive grace and favor from God, who is pleased—of His own mercy—to give us His Spirit. And on this same basis, we can, even before we are justified in the legal sense, believe.

Justification, then, is not the formal cause of our union with Christ. Rather, union is the fruit of spiritual life—like the soul joined to the body. It flows from the life of God within, given by the Spirit. So, while we are not united to Christ before believing, we do believe before we are justified—just as Scripture teaches.

To return to Saltmarsh: his accusation that Protestants teach justification by a self-made faith is an ignorant slander. He wrongly assumes that we teach faith apart from grace, or that faith earns or merits Christ. But we do not teach that faith is a work that purchases Christ. Rather, faith is the God-given instrument by which we receive Christ and His righteousness.

It is a needless and unprofitable question, as Cornewell raises, to debate whether faith is active or passive in receiving Christ’s imputed righteousness. If he refers to the actual act of believing, calling it passive is inaccurate.

In this way, not only is the gift of righteousness freely given, but also the faith, the desire to believe, the awareness of need, and the actual exercise of faith—all come from God’s grace. So unless one act of grace is imagined to conflict with another, we may rightly say that through faith—as a condition or an instrument—we receive and apply Christ’s righteousness.

Whether we call faith a hand, an instrument, an act of grace, or a condition, the terminology matters little, so long as we do not speak, as Cornewell, Saltmarsh, and other Antinomians do, claiming that we are justified regardless of whether we believe—and even, some say, from eternity past. Such views are to be rejected.

Chapter LXII.

The Antinomians’ Method of a Sinner’s Coming to Christ, Refuted

The method Saltmarsh proposes for leading a sinner to Christ is not the way of God. He claims that a believer, in all dealings with God—whether in prayer or drawing near—must first assume the status of sonship and righteousness. He is to consider all his sins as already forgiven and cancelled, and himself as already made free by the Son. From this assumed condition, he then approaches God in the spirit of adoption and calls Him Father. According to Saltmarsh, this is where faith, hope, love, and liberty begin.

He contrasts this with others who, he says, won’t believe they are in such a state until they first undergo humiliation, sorrow for sin, or works of righteousness—thinking they must bring with them some degree of preparation or satisfaction. These, Saltmarsh says, are trying to bargain with God and do not submit to His righteousness. He argues that anyone who believes on the basis of something within themselves kindles their own fire and must lie down in their own sparks, having no part in Christ because they will not have all in Christ. Even if they claim to rely fully on Christ for salvation, they still want some evidence in themselves to assure them of their interest in it.

Answer:

This is clear from the title of Saltmarsh’s own chapter: We must come before God as having put on Christ first, not as sinners and unrighteous. And again, his own words: In the first place, he believes Sonship and cancelled debts—and now he comes, and calls God Father. And here begins all faith... But how can faith begin after he already believes his sonship and pardon?

Saltmarsh seems afraid that a sinner, approaching God in sorrow and trembling—as one under condemnation—might truly feel his lost condition. But such brokenness is not legalistic bargaining; it is gospel humility. Christ receives sinners, not those who presume themselves already righteous.

3. Dr. Crisp claims that “coming to Christ” implies no actual separation or distance between the soul and Christ. He teaches that believers are already united to Christ and justified before they come to Him, and that this “coming” is entirely passive—like saying a coach “comes to town” though it was pulled there by horses. This, he says, is the same as believing one’s sins are already forgiven before faith is exercised. But where in Scripture is there any pattern for such a “coming” where one assumes pardon and union with Christ before faith?

4. Saltmarsh accuses Protestant teachers of saying that people should not believe in Christ until they have sorrowed enough for their sin or done enough good works—as if they needed to present a kind of payment to God first. But this is a false accusation. Some people, influenced by pride and legalism, may wrongly think they must earn grace. This is not what we teach. We reject such self-righteous bargaining.

However, the Antinomians go to the opposite extreme. Because some misuse preparation and humility, the Antinomians throw out all preparation entirely. They say, “Away with all sorrow for sin, all sense of unworthiness!” Saltmarsh offers an easy path: Let every proud, self-justifying sinner, still clinging to his lusts, simply believe his debts are cancelled—and that is the beginning of faith. But this is not gospel faith; it is presumption.

5. We do not teach that humiliation or sorrow for sin are grounds or warrants for faith. They are not the price of salvation. They are like waymarkers that lead to Christ. We say to the sinner: Be humbled, sorrow for sin, but don’t trust in these things—Judas had more sorrow than many and still perished. Cast away all hope in your preparations and cast yourself wholly upon Christ.

But the Antinomian says something different: not only should you cast away trust in your sorrow, but you should avoid sorrow altogether. To them, any sorrow or brokenness before faith is self-righteousness. They insist that having any preparation is to refuse God’s righteousness and seek your own. This is a grave error.

6. They misuse the Scripture that warns, “Walk in the light of your own sparks,” as if it condemned any conviction of sin before faith. But this is a gross misreading. That passage refers to idolatrous confidence in one’s own ways, not to a contrite heart trembling before God. As commentators like Vatablus explain, it is a warning against trusting man-made religion, not against mourning over sin.

7. Therefore, if a sinner is humbled, sorrowful, hears the gospel, and believes—even if he sees himself as worthy of ten hells—and if he still dares to come trembling to Christ and touch the hem of His garment, that is not self-righteousness. That is true saving faith. It is not refusing to have all in Christ; it is the very way to receive all in Christ.

Chapter LXIII.

We need the Law’s direction—Law and Spirit are not contrary but work together.

Antinomians deny that holiness is shaped by the commandments of the Law. Instead, they claim it comes solely through the preaching of faith, and so they reject any use of the Law for light or direction. Their reasoning is as follows:

But this misuses 2 Corinthians 3, which refers not to the guiding light of the Law, but to the condemning glory of the Old Covenant that terrified and convicted the conscience. That fading glory is taken away in Christ. However, the directing light of the moral law—how we are to live in holiness—remains. The Spirit still uses the Ten Commandments as a guide for Christian obedience. This light is confirmed, not destroyed, by Christ.

If Gospel grace were to extinguish the moral light of the Law—either from our hearts or from the written commandments—it would mean Christ came to abolish the Law, not fulfill it. But Christ said the opposite: not one jot or tittle will pass from the Law until heaven and earth pass away (Matthew 5:17–19). The Law continues to shine, showing us our duty.

Christ’s words make clear: every part of the moral law remains binding on believers. Its beams shine more firmly than the stars. To pit the Spirit and the Law against each other—as if holiness by Gospel grace opposes the Law’s light—is to invent a false conflict. The Spirit and the Law are not fire and water, but work together. To teach otherwise is soul-destroying error, unless one repents.

But this is the old error of Henry Nicholas and the Familists, who said God incarnate meant the divine nature appearing in their own hearts. They claimed every holy person was “Godded” or “Christed” within. Some New England Familists taught that Christ is first made flesh in us before we reach perfection.

However, Scripture teaches only one incarnation—when the Son of God became man. This glorious truth may imply greater grace to believers, but it does not mean:

Let Saltmarsh come out from behind his veiled language. If he agrees with the Familists, let him say so openly. And if he believes Protestant teachers to be mere “Legalists,” let him make his case plainly. But he should not mislead the sheep by suggesting that the Law and the Gospel are enemies, when in truth they are joined as master and servant in the school of Christ.

Chapter LXIV

Antinomian Distinctions Between Law and Gospel Refuted

We find no satisfaction in the distinctions Antinomians make between Law and Gospel. They say the Law commands us to obey, love, fear, and be holy so that God might become our God and we His people; but the Gospel, they claim, commands us to obey and love because we already are His people.

Answer 1. The Law never—neither before nor after the fall—required obedience as a merit, by which man might earn God as his God. Yet Antinomians treat all Law-obedience as a transaction, as though by obeying we hire God to be our Master, and by Gospel-obedience we put Him in our debt, forcing Him to repay us in some legal or mercenary way.

Answer 2. Can Saltmarsh prove that God was not Adam’s God until Adam perfectly completed his work of obedience? That is mere speculation. By creation itself, God was Adam’s God. The covenant or agreement to reward Adam with life upon perfect obedience was not the condition that made God his God, but the condition by which God would continue to manifest Himself as such in blessing and life. God could not have required obedience from Adam unless He was already his God in relationship and authority.

Answer 3. None of us—whom Saltmarsh attempts to refute—teach that believers must obey God's commandments, even by Gospel grace and strength from Christ, in order that God may become our God, or else cease to be so if we fail. That would indeed turn Gospel service into a form of legal merit. But this is not our doctrine.

Rather, we affirm: God is our God by covenant grace through Christ. We obey not to earn this relationship, but because it is already established in Christ. Our obedience, then, is the fruit of adoption, not the purchase price of divine favor.

Difference 2. Saltmarsh says the Law commands with the authority of God as Lawgiver and Judge, while the Gospel commands in the power of a Father.

Answer. If Saltmarsh meant there is a contradiction between these—that God cannot command both as a Lawgiver and as a Father—we would agree. But Antinomians assume that for God to command as Lawgiver, He must also threaten eternal condemnation. They argue: if the Law does not condemn, it is not Law. Therefore, they say, God is no Lawgiver to believers.

This is a false premise. God still commands in the Gospel all that He ever commanded in the Moral Law, though no longer as a condemning Judge. The curse has been removed (Gal. 3:10), but not the Law’s authority, majesty, or holiness. In the Gospel, God commands both as Lawgiver and as Father—He is still a consuming fire to the ungodly, and a loving Father to His people.

Difference 3. Saltmarsh says the Law commands through threats and promises; the Gospel rather persuades than commands, reasons rather than enforces, and presents Christ as a pattern more than by precept.

Answer. Yes, the Law does command by threats and promises—Do this and live—but it also pleads from love. And we grant that the Gospel gives a higher motive: the soul-conquering love of Christ crucified for sinners. Yet Saltmarsh speaks imprecisely. He says the Gospel “rather persuades than commands”—as if it still commands, but just less forcefully. But if he means the Gospel does not command at all, he should say so plainly.

If Antinomians are right, then the Gospel does not bind believers to obey the Ten Commandments. A believer, by their view, cannot sin against the Law of God—not even in the smallest breach—because Christ fulfilled it all. Thus, they argue, God has surrendered His authority to command any further obedience from believers, just as He surrendered His right to condemn them.

Following this logic, Christ's fulfillment of the Law not only removes its curse but cancels its commands. This is why Town and other Antinomians conclude that because Christ perfectly obeyed the Law for us, we are free from all obligation to obey it ourselves.

But this turns divine commandments into mere suggestions. If Gospel exhortations are not true commands but only friendly advice—like one friend counseling another—then refusing them is not sin. Antinomians might still say it is a serious offense to reject the grace and love of God, but if there is no Law, there is no transgression (Rom. 4:15). And where there is no transgression, there can be no sin.

Saltmarsh, Crisp, and Town argue that believers are no more under the Law than Englishmen are under the laws of Spain. And if there is no Law, there is no guilt, no sin, and thus no burdened conscience.

If, as they say, offending the love of Christ is worse than breaking the Law, then surely it is still sin. But they deny even that. According to them, a believer has no more sin in him than Christ Himself—an idea that erases the very possibility of sin for the justified.

Thus, Gospel commands become optional—arbitrary exhortations, not true divine imperatives.

3. If God, in the Gospel, were to give up His authority to command, then Christ would have come to dissolve the Law—contrary to His own words in Matthew 5:18–20. Nothing is more essential to the Law than its authority to command—to do and to teach even the least of its commandments.

4. Saltmarsh claims the Gospel “persuades rather than commands.” But we say the Gospel both commands (as the Law does) and persuades—indeed, it does so with a stronger bond, namely the love of Christ. The believer is not freed from obedience, but rather enabled to serve with greater delight and willingness. Christ did not redeem us from the curse of the Law so that we could live lawlessly, but so that we might walk in holiness for Him who died for us.

Town objects: If we are now more tightly bound to obedience, then Christ has only made things harder for us.

Answer: This is the complaint of those who despise the yoke of Christ. But the yoke of the Law, as carried in the Gospel, is not one of curse and condemnation. Rather, it is now a sweet yoke—oiled with grace, tied with cords of love. What Antinomians call bondage, Scripture calls liberty (Psalm 119:45).

The "rigor" of the Law is not that it commands holiness—God's Law is just and good. The rigor is in the fact that it demands perfect obedience under threat of curse, when we are unable to fulfill it. But Christ removed the curse and did more:

5. Cornwell, Saltmarsh, and other Antinomians reject all reasoned assurance—assurance drawn from signs, evidences, or marks (such as love to the brethren). They say such reasoning is mere human work and legal bondage. But Scripture itself builds faith and obedience through reasoning, persuading, and exhorting. If these are "rotten conclusions" as Saltmarsh says, then the reasoning of the apostles and the encouragements of Scripture are dismissed as legalism—which is blasphemous.

6. Saltmarsh also claims that the Gospel teaches by pattern, not by precept. But this is false. Examples of saints (e.g., the cloud of witnesses in Hebrews 12) are only binding insofar as they are grounded in the Law and confirmed by Gospel commands. Patterns without precepts cannot obligate obedience. If they could, we would be bound to imitate miraculous deeds of Christ and the apostles—which neither Law nor Gospel commands.

7. In truth, Antinomians teach that external commandments—whether written or preached—are only needed because we are sinful and carnal. If we were perfectly spiritual, they argue, we would not need outward Law, but only the inward Law written on the heart—like angels in glory. Saltmarsh openly states that both forgiveness and commands are part of the Gospel, because man is made up of both flesh and spirit. He says this “fits both God and man”: the Father commands holiness, the Son redeems us for holiness, and the Spirit forms it in us.

We reply: yes, the Law is spiritual, but we are still carnal (Rom. 7:14). Therefore, in this life, we need the Law—written and preached—to direct us. The inward Law alone is not sufficient in a fallen world. A glorified condition may not require the external word, but until then, we live by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.

Answer 1. These are strange notions, drawn from old Libertine teachings. Saltmarsh says Gospel commands are given “for obedience” just like the good news of forgiveness. But if disobedience to those commands is not sin in a believer—as the Antinomians claim—then they cannot truly be for obedience.

2. Saltmarsh suggests that because man is “flesh,” he needs outward commands in the letter of the Law, but as “spirit,” he needs no such commands. If this were true, then regenerated men like Timothy would have no need to meditate on Scripture, to teach, or to persevere in doctrine, even though Paul says these are necessary to save himself and others (1 Tim. 4:16). Likewise, the saints in Colossae would not need the Word of Christ to dwell richly in them (Col. 3:16), and the Roman believers would have no need of the Scriptures to give them hope (Rom. 15:4). But clearly, Scripture is needed not just for the “flesh,” but for the whole man—even the renewed heart.

Following Saltmarsh’s logic, David’s delight in God’s Word, his love for the Law more than gold or honey (Ps. 19:10; 119:72), came not from his renewed inward man but from his flesh. According to this view, Peter and Mary, and all who treasure Christ’s Word, do so only in the flesh—not by the Spirit. This is plainly absurd and closely aligns with the old Anabaptist error: that outward ordinances like preaching, sacraments, and the Scriptures are only needed for the unregenerate. The regenerate, they say, are taught only by the inward Spirit and have no need to be told what to do or avoid.

This is the view also of the New England Libertines, who claim that those in Christ are not under the Law or the commands of Scripture as a rule of life. But Scripture contradicts this.

3. If “flesh” simply means the physical body and its natural powers, then Saltmarsh must be claiming that the Law is only for outward bodily acts—like eating, sleeping, and seeing—not for the soul, the will, or the conscience. That would be the dream of a carnal Pharisee. But if “flesh” is rightly taken to mean the sinful corruption of man’s nature, then Saltmarsh’s view implies that all God’s commands—Law and Gospel alike—are given only because of sin. But that too is false.

Before sin, Adam had commands from God. The tree of life and the tree of knowledge were sacraments to him in innocence; the Sabbath was set apart for holy worship. He was under an outward Law: “In the day you eat of it, you shall surely die”—and yet, Adam was not carnal or “sold under sin.” Thus, it is clear that Law is not given only because man is sinful.

If Antinomians are right, then nothing in the new man is under any outward Law—no command, no Gospel promise or threat is addressed to the regenerate nature. That would mean Christ came to save only the old man—the corrupt flesh. It would also imply that only the “flesh” is called to believe, to eat the flesh of Christ, to commune with God, to repent and mortify sin. What, then, is the place of the new man? Shall he neither believe nor walk with God?

This is not biblical theology—it is delusion.

4. These ideas reflect the familiar Antinomian and Familist notion that only the old man sins. They say it is the flesh, not the man, who sins and is condemned. The "true man," they say, is untouched—he commits no sin and is not under Law. The flesh may go to hell, but the spirit goes to heaven. But this is folly.

Scripture says that the one under the Law is the one under the curse (Gal. 3:10), and that the one under the curse is the one redeemed by Christ (v.13). Therefore, the same person who is under the Law is also the one who is justified by faith and blessed with Abraham—not merely the “flesh,” but the man himself.

Is the “old Adam,” the sinful flesh, the one who is redeemed, justified, and blessed? Certainly not. Is the believer freed from the Law only because of the flesh that dwells in him? Then, as long as he has flesh, he must still be under the Law and deserving of the curse. Or else the flesh is invisible to God, even though it lusts against His holy Law. But such thinking is pure confusion.

Antinomian Difference:

“The end of the Law,” they say, “was bondage, fear, tutorship, revealing of sin, and mere outward conformity; but the end of the Gospel is love, newness of spirit, praise, and thanksgiving for righteousness and life already received.”

Response:

This is a false distinction. Servile fear—bondage and dread—is not the true or intrinsic end of the Law. The Law is spiritual (Rom. 7:14), and therefore cannot command sin, nor can it have any sinful purpose. To suggest that fear, in this servile sense, is the Law’s intended end, is to make God the author of sin.

It’s true that because of our sinful condition, the Law does produce fear and bondage—but this is accidental, not essential. God uses the Law as a means to awaken the conscience, expose guilt, and show us our need for a Savior. In that way, it becomes a “tutor” (Gal. 3:24), driving us to Christ—not to justify ourselves by Law-keeping, but to find refuge in the only One who fulfilled it perfectly.

Furthermore, the holy fear that the Law commands is not contrary to the Gospel. In fact, Gospel grace teaches us to fear God rightly—reverently, as children, not as slaves. The New Covenant includes this fear: “I will put my fear in their hearts, that they may not turn from me” (Jer. 32:40).

Yes, the ceremonial Law, with its washings and bloodshed, served to declare our guilt and to demand perfect righteousness. It exposed our debt and drove us to seek a Surety. Like the avenger of blood, it pursued us to the gates of the City of Refuge—Christ Himself.

We come to Christ not because we already possess heaven in its fullness, but that we might gain it. We sow to the Spirit, that we may reap eternal life (Gal. 6:8). We press on in holiness, not to earn grace, but because we have received grace. And the end we pursue is not only present peace, but the resurrection of the dead and the crown of life—the free reward of God’s grace.

Chapter LXV

The Gospel: A Rare Covenant of Grace

We fully agree: the Gospel is not a covenant like that of the Law, where God says, “If you do this perfectly, without a Mediator’s help, you shall live.” In that legal covenant, the terms were, “Win heaven by works, and it is yours.” That was a covenant of doing, without grace.

Neither is the Gospel covenant like a contract between two people, where one party fulfills their part independently of the other. No—this covenant is all of grace. Every part, every promise, every article of the Gospel covenant is founded on free grace.

In this covenant:

This kind of covenant has no equal among men. No human contract includes such complete and gracious undertakings.

However, Saltmarsh speaks too loosely when he suggests that using the word “covenant” makes us think too legally about grace, and that we should instead call it only a “promise.” But a promise is no less a legal term than a covenant. Gospel promises display God's character and grace just as clearly—and even more distinctly—than legal covenants or human agreements.

Antinomians also assert falsely that if righteousness and life are covenanted to us on the basis of conditions—even conditions graciously worked in us by Christ—then we have earned life ourselves, not received it as a gift. But this is not true.

The conditions of the Gospel—faith, repentance, obedience—are gracious gifts. They do not purchase life; they are the means through which we receive it. Life is still purchased by Christ for us, not earned by us. The covenant remains, from beginning to end, a covenant of free and sovereign grace.

Chapter LXVI

Antinomian Errors Regarding the Covenant of Grace

Antinomians deeply misunderstand both the covenant of works and the covenant of grace. They suggest that under the covenant of works, man was brought in based on some condition within himself. But, they claim, in the new covenant, we are not God’s people until He is first our God.

However, no sound teacher of grace has ever claimed that Christ waits for us to prepare ourselves—by some act of will or grace—before entering into covenant with us. No one teaches that we must first make ourselves fit for God, or that we choose Christ first, and so earn His love, as if God were somehow compelled to respond to our initial faithfulness. That would turn grace into a transaction, as if we hired God to be ours by working our way into the covenant.

If Saltmarsh were right, there never would have been a true covenant of works with Adam, since it would have required him to first earn his way in. But Scripture teaches the opposite: perfect obedience was the condition of the covenant, not the entrance requirement into it.

Antinomians commit a second major error in how they view the covenant of grace—by claiming it is as old as God's eternal decree of election and that it was fully in effect from eternity, simply because Christ is called the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.

Now, it is true that the covenant is everlasting, but not because it was actually enacted in eternity. Christ is indeed the eternal Mediator and High Priest in terms of God’s eternal purpose. But just as the world existed eternally in God’s decree, yet was created in time, so also Christ entered into His office of Mediator and Priest in the fullness of time—being born of a woman, called into ministry, and crucified under Tiberius Caesar.

We were not justified, pardoned, or redeemed from eternity, any more than we were effectually called or sanctified from eternity. These blessings were decreed in eternity but fulfilled in time. Yet Antinomians claim our sins were forgiven before we even believed.

If that were true, when exactly were we ever born in sin? When were we by nature children of wrath, as Paul says? When were we ever truly dead in sins and trespasses, walking according to the course of this world? If justification happened from eternity, then our sinful condition before conversion would not be real, but only apparent—mere outward appearances in our conduct, not genuine guilt in our conscience or standing before God.

Under this view, our sins—murder, theft, deceit, immorality—committed before faith would not be real sins at all, merely imagined faults. But this turns the gospel into a fantasy. Scripture tells us we were truly dead in sin, and our iniquities were actual offenses before God until we were united to Christ by faith.

The third error Antinomians make concerns the parties of the covenant. Saltmarsh argues that the new covenant is not made with us at all, but only with Christ on our behalf.

It is true that Christ, as the second Adam, stands in our place as Mediator and Surety. He undertakes to fulfill the covenant conditions for His people, and all the blessings flow from Him. But Antinomians go further, claiming that since Christ fulfilled everything, we are under no obligation to believe, repent, or walk in obedience. They insist that all these things—faith, repentance, mortification—are only true in Christ, not in us personally.

Now, we do believe that our repentance and faith are true in Christ in two senses:

But this does not mean we are exempt from actually believing, repenting, or obeying. The Gospel calls us to trust, to turn from sin, and to walk in holiness—not as the cause of our salvation, but as its necessary fruit and evidence. Antinomians reject this entirely, removing from the believer any personal responsibility to respond in faith and obedience.

This undermines the covenant of grace by separating the believer from any role at all, when in truth, Christ enables us not only to receive the promise, but also to live as those who are truly redeemed.

Chapter LXVII:

On Legal and Evangelical Conversion

We do not deny that there is such a thing as legal conversion—a superficial turning to God driven by fear of hell rather than true grace. There are also Gospel terrors—the real fear of hell, condemnation, and the worm that never dies. These fears may prompt outward reform, but not true heart change. This is as true among Antinomians as with any others.

It’s known that many Antinomians are not truly converted but deceived, often by a false work of the Law. Their consciences may be shaken by a fearful sense of God’s wrath—especially in those naturally inclined to melancholy. But rather than leading to godly repentance, this leads them to the wrong kind of spiritual "physician."

When such a person meets a teacher like Mr. Saltmarsh, though there’s no real inward transformation, and no evidence of new spiritual life, they are told to simply believe in God's everlasting love, without regard for their sin, conscience, or true humility.

Even while still enslaved to sin, they are told, “Believe your name is written in the Lamb’s Book of Life.” They are urged to immediately apply Christ’s blood to themselves, even though they are neither weary, burdened, nor convicted of sin. They are assured: "You are as clean from sin as Christ Himself."

According to this doctrine:

With this, such a person is persuaded they are free from all doubt for the rest of life—as if already glorified in heaven. They feel above all laws and duties. Scripture becomes, to them, a “dead letter,” unless the Spirit directly speaks through it.

They are taught that neither Law nor Gospel commands bind them. Preaching and sacraments hold no authority. They are led instead by supposed inner “immediate revelations,” and only obey outward commands when they feel an internal prompting—not because of any authority from God as Lawgiver.

Even then, they say the commandments only apply to the "outer man," and not by divine authority, but only by the love of Christ—as if Christ removed His Father’s authority from all commands.

But true Gospel love compels obedience both because of God’s authority and Christ’s redeeming love.

Then, when this kind of “convert” falls into adultery, murder, lying, or theft, they excuse it:

This is the Antinomian delusion—a twisting of grace that excuses sin, despises conviction, and denies the ongoing authority of God’s moral Law. But true conversion includes both the Gospel’s mercy and the Law’s guiding light, leading sinners to Christ in humility and repentance.

Saltmarsh wrongly defines “Legal conversion,” lumping together all who are not converted the Antinomian way. But his accusation misses the mark.

Yet Saltmarsh likely means something else: that commands from God’s own authority, as Lawgiver, only produce counterfeit conversion. This is absolutely false. In fact, we have a long-standing debate with the Papists over this very issue.

They will order all their decisions around those ends. But so-called Legal converts do not truly order their lives toward salvation with this same clarity and devotion.

Chapter LXVIII.

How the Spirit Works Freely—Misunderstood by Antinomians

Saltmarsh boldly asserts that the Spirit of adoption does not work freely when there is anything "legal" or "servile" in our obedience. But let us examine this claim.

Objection 1: The Spirit does not work freely when people view their obedience as contributing something to God—seeking to satisfy Him with their own efforts.

Answer: We fully reject any idea that our works satisfy divine justice or earn merit. We do not teach that our obedience can turn God's heart apart from Christ’s grace. But Scripture teaches that God's people do prevail with Him through Spirit-wrought prayer. Hosea 12:3–4 tells us Jacob had power with God and prevailed, weeping and making supplication. Jesus teaches the same in the parable of the persistent widow, and James commends Elijah's effectual prayer. Christ even says that certain demons are cast out only by prayer and fasting. These are not signs of legal bondage, but of Spirit-empowered liberty.

Objection 2: The Spirit does not work freely when we “take in Christ by the way” and do not wholly rest on Him.

Answer: True. It is a spiritual error to trust in Christ only partially while leaning on our own works. When we make our duties fellow-mediators with Christ, we dishonor His sufficiency. But this is not our doctrine—it is our sin. We mourn that we so often undervalue Christ and overvalue our own obedience. Yet the error of looking away from Christ is no proof that obedience itself is legalism.

Objection 3: The Spirit is hindered when we are bound to external forms—times, places, and persons—in worship.

Answer: This assumes that outward order is bondage. Saltmarsh and his followers seem to believe that the Lord’s Day, regular prayer, or obedience at set times is “legal” unless the Spirit spontaneously stirs us. They elevate inner impressions over God’s written commands.

But Scripture commands us to “pray without ceasing,” to “be rich in good works,” to “redeem the time.” These duties are not arbitrary—they are Gospel obligations grounded in Christ’s lordship, not mere impulse.

If Saltmarsh is right, then avoiding adultery or murder would only be obedience when the Spirit happens to be actively moving us in the moment. And if the Spirit gives no internal prompting for thirty days, then, by this logic, we are not bound to pray, love our neighbor, or abstain from evil for that period. That would mean prolonged sins of omission—failing to love, pray, or help others—aren’t truly sins unless the Spirit visibly acts to stop them.

This view destroys all moral accountability. If the Spirit must act directly every time we are to do good or resist evil, then all obedience collapses when He seems silent. Worse, it casts God's written Law—“Thou shalt not kill,” “Thou shalt not commit adultery”—as legal bondage, rather than holy guidance.

In truth, the Spirit of adoption works freely and powerfully, not by removing all commands, but by writing them on our hearts. He stirs us to love what God commands, not to ignore it. True liberty is not the absence of Law, but joyful obedience through grace.

Saltmarsh offers another argument: that to act from an outward command or vow—whether from Scripture, conscience, or covenant—is bondage. He claims it produces only refined hypocrisy, and that to be moved by anything outward rather than drawing strength directly from Christ is servile.

Response:

This is a dangerous form of spiritual enthusiasm. It falsely pits the working of the Spirit against the means God Himself has ordained—His Word, His commands, and the godly experiences of His people. It undermines the duty to tremble at God’s Word and leads to disobedience cloaked in the name of freedom.

Objection 5: If someone obeys out of a sense of obligation to a vow or covenant, it is Old Testament bondage—because they lack the Spirit of adoption to move them from within.

Answer 1: If the Spirit does not move at all, of course it is not His work. But to claim that acting from a covenantal vow or promise is bondage, as though the Spirit never worked inwardly under the Old Testament, is false. The Psalms, the faith of Moses, David, Job, Jeremiah—all testify to the inward work of the Spirit, even then. Hebrews 11 and Psalm 51 make this undeniable.

Answer 2: To say that men like David or Hezekiah obeyed only to preserve their reputation or avoid being called covenant-breakers would reduce them to hypocrites. If that is Saltmarsh’s view, he effectively condemns all who took the National Covenant in the three kingdoms, and who now uphold it from a reverent fear of breaking faith with God.

Following this logic, keeping any lawful contract—between king and people, between spouses, between neighbors—would be "Old Testament bondage." Even repaying borrowed money because of a prior promise would be viewed as legalism. Was Paul, then, promoting bondage when he urged Philemon to accept Onesimus, or when he offered to repay his debt?

This reasoning severs the very bonds of civil society. It dissolves marriage vows, business agreements, national treaties, and even the natural law summarized in Christ’s words: “Whatever you wish others would do to you, do also to them” (Matt. 7:12). If promises and covenants no longer bind us under the Gospel, then the Spirit of adoption has supposedly made us covenant-breakers and traitors.

But the Gospel teaches the opposite. It calls us to righteous, holy living—to honesty, justice, and fidelity. It does not nullify moral obligation; it strengthens it.

Saltmarsh, who accuses Presbyterians of being “Legalists” and “Antichristian” for rejecting Antinomian heresies, ironically comes closer to the Antichrist himself—who would annul all God’s laws and dissolve every just obligation. To claim that keeping one’s promises is “Old Testament bondage” is to oppose both the Law of God and the Spirit of Christ.

In truth, to keep our covenants—freely entered—is the fruit of the Spirit and is not contrary to grace. It is Gospel obedience, not legalism (Gal. 5:13; Eph. 4:25; Col. 3:9). Christ has not freed us from righteousness but from sin.

Objection 6. Saltmarsh claims that when people come to God in prayer as to a Creator rather than as a Father, or as God rather than God in Christ, they approach Him under such an overwhelming sense of His holiness that they cannot come with boldness or faith.

Answer 1. Saltmarsh suggests that this is how believers under the Old Testament approached God—under legal fear, not gospel boldness. But this is false. The saints under the Law saw the day of Christ and were justified by faith, just as we are (Acts 15:11; Rom. 4). They knew God as Father, even then, and worshiped with true faith, not merely legal fear.

Saltmarsh’s final "character of a servile spirit" is this: When people measure their forgiveness by their sense of sin and sanctification—believing only what they feel peace for—and not by believing in the finished work of Christ, they act from fear, not the Spirit.

Answer:

Chapter LXIX

The Lifeless and Counterfeit Faith of the Antinomians

Antinomians promote a hollow, presumptuous faith in place of true saving faith.

Even the fear of judgment and the dread of eternal punishment, though not true evangelical repentance, may serve to magnify the worth of Christ in the soul. But the Antinomians would have even the proud Pharisee, hardened and untouched, still confident in their own righteousness and blind to their condition, come directly to Christ without any sense of guilt or need. This, we say, is not faith—it is presumption.

It is simply contrary to God’s order that those who claim they see, and yet remain unbroken and blind, should be invited to cast themselves on Christ just as they are, without conviction of sin. Christ himself teaches otherwise. He asks, “How can you believe, who seek honor from one another?”—clearly implying that without a humbling of pride, true faith cannot take root.

2. On Whether Believing Is the Only Gospel Duty

Antinomians claim that believing is the only work commanded in the Gospel. Saltmarsh tries to prove this by quoting, “This is the work of God, that you believe on Him whom He has sent” (John 6:29), and, “This is His commandment, that we believe in the name of His Son Jesus Christ” (1 John 3:23). By this, they seem to mean that no duty falls under a Gospel command except faith.

But I would press them here: if only what is commanded under penalty of sin can be called a true command, then by their logic, the Gospel does not command love, meekness, patience, temperance, submission to authority, or the rejection of hatred, murder, adultery, theft, lying, idolatry, and blasphemy. These would then be optional for believers—neither obedience if performed, nor sin if neglected—merely dependent on whether the Spirit moves them in the moment. This is absurd.

They say the believer is no longer under the Law, so these moral duties carry no weight of commandment for him. If I misunderstand them, I gladly stand corrected—but their teaching remains unclear and confused. They have yet to plainly state what I believe to be their real view: that the believer cannot truly sin. His adultery is not adultery. His murder is not murder. Either sin is entirely removed from the believer and none remains in him, or the believer continues to sin daily. But Antinomians won’t clearly say which they mean.

Do they believe that the Gospel still commands chastity, and forbids adultery? That it commands love, and forbids hatred and murder? Or are these merely suggestions, optional and unbound by any moral law? Do they believe any command—Law or Gospel—still binds the believer, so that disobedience would actually be sin?

They also claim that believing is the only Gospel duty. But even they don’t treat faith as a commanded duty, or a condition of life and righteousness. For according to them, all the sins of the elect were taken away—either from eternity, from their conception, or at the cross—so even their unbelief and final impenitence are not truly sins.

Furthermore, if Christ—as God and Lawgiver—cannot command faith (since commands imply obligation and threat of punishment), then He must set aside His authority and instead merely advise us to believe, as one friend might counsel another. This would mean no Gospel command carries any weight of duty, and disobedience to such “commands” could not truly be sin. According to their view, Gospel exhortations carry no binding authority—only friendly encouragement.

3. On the Gospel’s Commands and the Object of Faith

If faith without any works—an empty, inactive belief—is the only duty commanded in the Gospel, then what are we to make of the Apostle John? He repeatedly commands love for the brethren and forbids hatred. If Antinomians are right, John wasn’t speaking as an apostle of the New Testament, but as a lawgiver like Moses. According to this view, among the writers of New Testament Scripture, some (like Peter, James, and John) leaned more toward a covenant of works, while Paul alone upheld free grace. But that’s false. Paul commands obedience and godliness just as clearly as the others.

4. As for the object of saving faith, Antinomians look beyond what the Gospel .

Saltmarsh argues that Christ is offered to sinners as sinners, and that no one is too sinful for Christ to be offered to them. So far, this is true—Christ is offered to all within the visible Church, whether elect or reprobate. But Saltmarsh goes further, saying that this offer is the very expression of God’s eternal love, the love by which He chose His people from before the foundation of the world.

Here’s the problem: Antinomians urge all people—without any sense of sin or awareness of their need—to immediately believe that God eternally loved them, gave Christ specifically for them, and that their sins were already fully satisfied at the cross. This is not saving faith. It’s a falsehood. Nowhere in Scripture is it revealed that God decreed to give His Son for every individual, elect and reprobate alike, or that He loved every person with the special, electing love spoken of in John 3:16.

Christ is indeed offered freely to all who hear the Gospel, but that universal offer does not reveal or guarantee God’s eternal decree of election for each hearer. Saltmarsh speaks boldly about matters of divine decree and electing love—truths he does not understand. And the Antinomians, though they speak often of grace, twist its meaning to excuse lawlessness.

To clarify the true doctrine of faith, let us clear away Saltmarsh’s weak arguments for immediate believing without any preparation. His third reason, which simply repeats the first two, goes as follows:

Objection. It glorifies grace more to receive a sinner who has no money, no merit, no righteousness at all.

Answer. But consider this: the one who comes to Christ poor, empty, sinful, and with a sense of his need for the great Physician—he is the one who truly has no money. The Pharisee, confident in his own righteousness, is the one who thinks he has money. He sees himself as whole and in no need of healing.

If the Lord were to sell the water of life to those who imagine they have something to offer—who bring their “money” of self-righteousness—it would actually dishonor grace, not exalt it.

When Isaiah says, “Come, all you who have no money,” he is not speaking to everyone in general, though all lack the true currency of righteousness. Rather, he invites a specific kind of person—those who, under conviction of sin, feel unworthy, unprepared, and spiritually bankrupt. They say, “I have no money, no prayers, no worthiness. Christ could not mean this for someone like me.” These are the ones grace calls.

Pharisees and self-righteous sinners do not speak this way. They take the Antinomian shortcut. Believing themselves already fit, they “come” presumptuously, without being broken or humbled—and thus do not truly come at all.

Saltmarsh’s argument confuses two very different things: (1) the order of preparation that Scripture teaches (a broken and contrite heart that senses its need), and (2) the meritorious preparation of Pharisees, Papists, and Arminians, which claims some worthiness before grace. We affirm the first and utterly reject the second.

And so, Isaiah 55 offers no support for Saltmarsh’s claim.

Objection 4. It is the right method of exalting Christ, as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness—not for the healed to look upon, but for the wounded. Likewise, the Gospel is for the sick, not the healthy. Christ came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.

Answer. These passages actually support our position. The Israelites who were healed in the wilderness were not simply sinners in general, but wounded ones—those who felt the sting, recognized their danger, and looked upon the serpent in faith. Not all who were bitten, whether Israelites or heathens, were healed—only those who looked.

So if the type is to be accurate, Saltmarsh must claim that all who are sinners—simply by being sinners—are offered Christ, just as all who were bitten were offered healing. But the text shows otherwise. Only Israelites were healed. Only those who knew the serpent's power and looked were saved.

The Antinomians, along with Pelagians and Arminians, always seem to choose the easiest path. They assume that every sinner is already sin-sick and broken, and therefore ready to receive Christ. But in the Gospel passages cited, “sinners” are not simply those who sin, but those who see themselves as lost and sick—the opposite of the self-righteous.

Saltmarsh claims that Christ is offered to all sinners, simply because they are sinners. But this interpretation twists Christ’s own words: “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” In his view, that would mean, “I came not to call sinners, but sinners to repentance”—which is nonsense.

The “righteous” in that passage refers to the Pharisees—not because they were truly righteous, but because they thought they were. They were still sinners in reality—sick and in need of the Physician—but they didn’t see it. And Christ makes it clear: he did not come to call them. Not all sinners are called, only some—those who see themselves as lost, sick, and in need of mercy.

Therefore, there is an inherent preparation or qualification that must be present: a sense of one's sin, a heart that is broken and humbled. Christ is not offered to sinners as sinners in the bare sense, but to those who are sinners in their own eyes, who are self-condemned and know their need for a Savior.

Otherwise, how would we explain why Christ associated with publicans and sinners—Matthew, Zacchaeus, and others—but not with the proud Pharisees? His answer was clear: the sick need a physician. That is the true Gospel order.

Objection 5. When Christ is offered to the soul, it leaves a person under greater condemnation. One cannot then say, “Lord, had I only been fit and prepared, I would have received you—but I was too sinful and guilty.” To this the Lord would respond, “I came to pardon and cleanse you because you were foul. That is no excuse.”

Answer. A lie cannot disprove the truth. And that excuse—"I was too sinful to receive Christ"—is one of the greatest lies.

Objection 7. The Corinthians, Ephesians, and Colossians received Christ while still in their sins, unwashed, and spiritually dead.

Answer. True—but that doesn’t refute our point. Preparation doesn’t remove guilt or spiritual death. Only Christ does that. Yet it remains true that before Christ brings light and life, the soul is often brought to feel its own lost condition.

Objection 8. God offers Christ in time just as He gave Him before time: purely because we are sinners.

Answer. It’s true that God gave Christ in eternity, freely and without any condition. But in time, God gives Christ only to those who hear the Gospel. Still, He did not decree to save men only on the condition that they would hear, but rather, by the same free grace, He ordained that they would both hear and believe.

God does not give Christ to us because we are sinners, or because we are humbled and prepared, but because He is gracious. Sin is only the occasion for His mercy. Preparation is merely the order in which God works—not the reason He gives Christ. He humbles first by the Law, then offers Christ in the Gospel—not because of the humility, but according to His gracious purpose. There is no Gospel promise that says, “All who are sufficiently humbled shall certainly be converted.”

Chapter LXX

Faith Not the Only Work of the Gospel, as Antinomians Claim

Let us examine Saltmarsh’s claim that faith is the only work required in the Gospel, and that his shortcut to heaven excludes all other duties.

He writes: “Salvation is not a matter of our working and doing—it was accomplished by Christ with the Father. Our works are not works to achieve salvation, but works done within salvation. We don’t act in order to receive more, but because we have already received so much. We don’t do in order to be saved, but because we are saved. And yet, we should do as much as if salvation depended on it, though it’s already finished.”

Answer 1. This is not a valid argument. Just because Christ has fully accomplished redemption does not mean we are not called to “work out our salvation with fear and trembling.” That conclusion doesn’t follow.

2. It is false to say we are not to do anything in order to receive more, or that we only work because we are saved. These two are not contradictory—they go together. Because we are saved by Christ’s merit and have begun to possess salvation, we are also called to sow to the Spirit so that we might reap eternal life.

We serve not only because we are saved, but also because we look for the promised reward. Servants are told to obey because their Master in heaven has saved them—and also because they will receive an inheritance. Elders are to feed the flock, because they love the Redeemer and because they hope to receive an unfading crown. And we are exhorted to hold fast to what we’ve done so that we may receive a full reward.

So then, our works are both in salvation and toward salvation.

3. It is plainly false to say that Antinomians believe they are to work as much as if salvation depended on it. Their obedience is optional, not required. They do not believe they sin when they fail to act, for according to them, sin is removed from the believer as completely as from Christ Himself.

They claim there is no sin in doing nothing after justification, unless the Spirit immediately stirs them. So it is untrue to say they are to “do as much” for what Christ has already done as if salvation depended on it—because, by their own doctrine, they are not obliged to do anything, nor are they guilty when they fail.

To the Antinomian, the only true law is the Spirit acting immediately within them. This abolishes all external obligation and leaves the believer without any binding command beyond inward impulse.

Objection 2. The Gospel is simple: “Believe and be saved.” Paul says, ‘Do not say in your heart, “Who will ascend into heaven?”’—the word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart.

Answer. We don’t want to make the way to heaven longer than Christ made it. Paul, in Romans 10, is comparing the Law’s way of salvation—difficult and unreachable—to the simplicity of the Gospel: “Believe, and be saved.” This is indeed a gracious and accessible way. But we must not shorten it beyond what Christ has set, as if faith were a single step at the threshold of heaven.

Christ Himself describes the way as narrow, hard, and requiring perseverance. Though salvation is fully merited by Christ and received by faith, the Christian life includes duties, obedience, striving, wresthng, and suffering—all of which, though made sweet by Christ’s love, still involve effort. It is not a matter of lying back in ease, as the Antinomians imagine, free from all commands, convictions, discipline, or holy striving. Their version reduces the Christian life to a mere belief that Christ has done everything—even repented and obeyed—for us.

Objection 2 (again). It is the Gospel’s way to assure salvation to all who will believe.

Answer. That’s true. But “faith without works is dead” (James 2:20). Faith works through love, and Scripture lays many other commands on us besides believing. Those who refuse them are warned and threatened accordingly.

Objection 3. There is nothing more required on our part than being persuaded that Christ died for us, since He suffered and satisfied God. That’s the entire work of salvation.

Answer. Here, salvation is reduced to Christ’s suffering alone. Yet Saltmarsh himself previously claimed that Christ also believed, repented, and mortified sin for us—and that all we must do is believe He did these things. This turns faith into a passive acknowledgment of a completed checklist, rather than a living trust that results in transformation.

Objection 4 & 5. Only those who believe are justified (Rom. 1:17; Acts 13:39). We are justified by grace, not by works (Rom. 3:24).

Answer. We agree, as do all who oppose Rome. But Antinomians go further and say we were justified from eternity, or from the womb, or from the time Christ died. Yet faith is not eternal, nor present in the womb, nor active at Calvary. Therefore, according to their view, people can be justified long before they ever believe.

Yes, we are justified by faith apart from works—but it does not follow that we are taken to heaven without any obligation to obey God, or that we cannot sin. That is a false conclusion.

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