To be sure, the Spirit does use both God’s law and God’s gospel in our sanctification. But the law and the gospel do very different things. —Tullian Tchividjian
The law is not designed to make you a disciple. The law is designed to make you desperate.
As sin increased and darkness flourished, the law came and called sin by its name. No longer could someone commit adultery without realizing God had pronounced it wrong. No longer could one neighbor steal from another and make excuses before the Lord. Sin increased, sin was called sin, and people were living in sin and dying in sin and being controlled by sin.
It was a time of desperation! A season of honest transparency when the created cried out to the Creator, “Is there more to life than this? This feels like death!”
The law cannot do what Christ did. The law can’t impart life.
The law was brought in so that the trespass might increase. But where sin increased, grace increased all the more. (Romans 5:20)
Where earthbound sin and heavenly grace collide, we find a storm of epic proportions—and that’s where we encounter the full strength of God’s love. It is here that we understand why the skies darkened and the sun disappeared in the hours of Jesus’ death. We can see how the temple’s veil—with the thickness of a man’s hand—could be torn in two by the raging of God’s grace.
The law was not designed to make you a disciple; it was designed to make you desperate. Its burden of perfection enslaves. The desire to sin overwhelms. The justice we deserve is more than we can bear. As prisoners, we cry out for undeserved freedom, for we know we are guilty.
And in that moment—when you admit you can’t live the life you deserve—you are met by an overwhelming storm of God’s grace.
It is in your desperation that He saves you. It is out of darkness that He disciples you.
And it is in this grace that you find life.
Lord, without You, I’m unworthy of You. At my worst, I hear you whisper I am loved. The moment I realize I have nothing to give, You remind me You’ve given me everything in Jesus. Your grace is a storm that washes me clean of my sin. I surrender to that storm today. I rest in the cool waters of Your forgiveness. Through Your Spirit, may I live a life worthy of all You’ve done. Amen.