10. The Holy Life of the Justified
Contents
Preface
1. God's Answer to Man's Question
2. God's Recognition of Substitution
3. The Completeness of the Substitution
4. The Declaration of the Completeness
5. Righteousness for the Unrighteous
6. The Righteousness of God Reckoned to Us
7. Not Faith, But Christ
8. What the Resurrection of the Substitute has Done
9. The Pardon and the Peace Made Sure
10. The Holy Life of the Justified
Preface
he awakened conscience of the sixteenth century betook itself to "the
righteousness of God." There it found refuge, at once from
condemnation and from impurity. Only by "righteousness" could it be
pacified; and nothing less than that which is divine could meet the case. At
the cross this "righteousness" was found; human, yet divine: provided for
man, and presented to him by God, for relief of conscience and justification
of life. On the one word tetelestai "It is finished," as on a heavenly resting-
place, weary souls sat down and were refreshed. The voice from the tree did
not summon them to do, but to be satisfied with what was done. Millions of
bruised consciences there found healing and peace.
The belief of that finished work brought the sinner into favour with God;
nor did it leave him in uncertainty as to this. The justifying work of Calvary
was God's way, not only of bringing pardon, but of securing certainty. It
was the only perfect thing which had ever been presented to God in man's
behalf; and so peculiar was this perfection, that it might be used by man in
his transactions with God, as if it were his own.
The knowledge of this sure justification was life from the dead to
multitudes. All over Europe, from the Apennines to the Grampians, from
the Pyrenees to the Carpathians, went the glad tidings that man is justified
freely, and that God wishes him to know he is justified. It was not merely a
new thought for man's intellect, but a new discovery for his soul, (1) As to
the true source of spiritual health, viz. the setting of man's conscience right
with God; (2) As to the continuation of that health, viz. the keeping of the
conscience right.
The fruit of this was not merely a healthy personal religion, but a
renovated intellect and a noble literature, and, above all, a pure worship. It
was an era of resurrection. The graves were opened; and the congregation
of the dead became the church of the living. Christendom awoke and arose.
The resurrection-dew fell far and wide; nor has it yet ceased to fall.
For ages Christianity had grovelled in the dust, smothered with semi-
pagan rites; ready to die, if not already dead; bound hand and foot by a
semi-idolatrous priesthood, unable to do aught for a world which it had
been sent to regenerate. Now "it was lifted up from the earth, and made to
stand upon its feet as a man, and a man's heart was given to it."
A new conscience was born; and with a new conscience came in new life
and power. Nothing had been seen like this since the age of apostles.
The doctrine of another's righteousness reckoned to us for justification
before God is one of the links that knot together the first and the sixteenth
centuries, the Apostles and the Reformers. The creeds of the Reformation
overleap fifteen centuries, and land us at once in the Epistle to the Romans.
Judicial and moral cleansing was what man needed; and in that epistle we
have both the imputed and imparted righteousness; the former the root or
foundation of the latter. Not the one without the other; both together,
inseparable; but each in its own order.
It was not Luther merely who took up the old watchword, "The just shall
live by faith," and thus found the answer of a good conscience toward God.
To thousands of hearts it came like a voice from heaven, they knew not
how. Sunshine from above had fallen upon one grand text; the text which
the age needed: men recognized the truth thus supernaturally lighted up.
"The nations came to its light, and kings to the brightness of its rising." The
inquiring men of that age, though not borrowing from each other, betook
themselves to this truth and text. From every kingdom of Europe came the
same voice; and every Protestant Confession bore witness to the unanimity
of awakened Christendom. The long-needed, long-missing truth had been
found; and eureka was the cry of gladness were heard announcing its
discovery.
Our fathers saw that this truth was the basis of all real spiritual life. That
which was superficial, and morbid, and puny, and second-rate, might do
with some less deep, less broad foundation; but all that is healthy, and
noble, and daring, and happy, and successful in religion must rest here.
"The just shall live by faith."
Religion is fashionable in our age. But is it that which sprang up, after
centuries of darkness, among our fathers in Europe? Is it that of apostles
and prophets? Is it the calm yet thorough religion which did such great
deeds in other days? Has it gone deep into the conscience? Has it filled the
heart? Has it pervaded the man? Or has it left the conscience unpacified, the
heart unfilled, the man unchanged, save with some external appliances of
religiousness, which leaves him hollow as before? There is at this moment
many an aching spirit, bitterly conscious of this hollowness. The doctrine,
the profession, the good report of others, the bustle of work, will not fill the
soul. God Himself must be there, with His covering righteousness, His
cleansing blood, His quickening Spirit. Without this, religion is but a shell:
holy services are dull and irksome. Joy in God, which is the soul and
essence of worship, is unknown. Sacraments, prayer-meetings, religious
services, labours of charity, will not make up for the living God.
How much of unreality there may be in the religious life of our age, it is
for each individual to determine for himself, that he may not be deceived
nor lose his reward. 1
All unreality is weakness as well as irksomeness; and the sooner that we
are stripped of unreality the better, both for peace and for usefulness.
Men with their feet firmly set on Luther's rock, "the righteousness of
God," filled with the Spirit, and pervaded with the peace of God, do the
great things in the church; others do the little.
The men of robust spiritual health are they who, like Luther, have made
sure of their filial relationship to God. They shrink from no battle, nor
succumb to any toil. The men who go to work with an unascertained
relationship give way in the warfare, and faint under the labour: their life is
not perhaps a failure or defeat; but it is not a victory, it is not a triumph.
"We do not war after the flesh," and "our weapons are not carnal" (2 Cor
10:3,4). Our battle is not fought in the way that the old man would have us
to fight it. It is "the fight of faith" (1 Tim 6:12). It is not by doubting but by
believing that we are saved; it is not by doubting but by believing that we
overcome. Faith leads us first of all to Abel's "more excellent sacrifice"
(Heb 11:4). By faith we quit Ur and Egypt and Babylon, setting our face to
the eternal city (Heb 11:16). By faith we offer up our Isaacs, and worship
"leaning on the top of our staffs," and "give commandment concerning our