Sin And It's Consequences
Essays by J. Gresham Machen
Contents*
The
Fall of Man
The
Consequences of the Fall
What
Is Sin?
Is
Mankind Lost in Sin?
Sin's
Wages and God's Gift
What is sin? It is a question that we cannot
ignore. From false answers to it have come untold disaster to mankind and to the
church, and in the right answer to it is to be found the beginning of the
pathway of salvation.
How shall we obtain the answer to that momentous
question? I think we can make a very good beginning by just examining the
Biblical account of the way in which sin entered into the world. That account is
given in the Book of Genesis in a very wonderful manner. The language is very
simple; the story is told almost in words of one syllable. Yet how profound is
the insight which it affords into the depths of the human soul!
"And the
Lord God," says the Bible, "commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the
garden thou mayest freely eat: but of the tree of the knowledge of good and
evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou
shalt surely die" (Genesis
2:16-17). It has been observed that no reason is said to have been given to
Adam to tell him why he should not eat of that tree, and it has been said that
that fact is perhaps significant. Eating of the tree was not in itself obviously
wrong; the command not to eat of it was not reinforced by any instinct in man's
nature. It appeared therefore all the more clearly as a sheer test of obedience.
Would man obey God's commands knowing simply that they were God's commands,
knowing that because He gave them they had some quite sufficient reason and were
holy and just and good? How clearly and simply that is brought out in the
narrative in the Book of Genesis!
An equal simplicity and an equal
profundity characterize the following narrative — the narrative of the
temptation and the fall. Adam and Eve were in the garden. The serpent said to
the woman, "Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?"
(Genesis
3:1)
I think we can detect even there the beginnings of the
temptation. The woman is asked to eye the things that God has forbidden as
though they were desirable things. It is hinted that the commands are hard
commands; it is hinted that possibly they might even have involved the
prohibition to eat of any of the trees of the garden.
Perhaps an attempt
is made to cast doubt upon the very fact of the command. "Hath God said?"
says the tempter. The woman is asked to envisage God's command as a barrier
which it would be desirable to surmount. Is there no loophole? Has God really
commanded this and that? Did He really mean to prohibit the eating of the trees
of the garden?
The woman's reply states the fact — certainly in the main.
God's command did not prohibit the eating of all the trees in the garden, but
only of one tree. "And the woman said unto the serpent, We may eat of the fruit
of the trees of the garden: but of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst
of the garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it,
lest ye die" (Genesis
3:2-3).
Then at last there comes a direct attack upon the
truthfulness of God. "Thou shalt surely die," said God: "Ye shall not surely
die," said the tempter. At last the battle is directly joined. God, said the
tempter, has lied, and He has lied for the purpose of keeping something good
from man. "Ye shall not surely die," said the tempter: "for God doth know that
in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as
God, knowing good and evil" (Genesis
3:4-5).
At that point the question arises in our minds what the
element of truth was in those words of the tempter. Those words were a lie, but
the truly devilish lies are those that contain an element of truth, or, rather,
they are those lies that twist the truth so that the resulting lie looks as
though it itself were true.
Certainly it was true that by eating the
forbidden fruit Adam attained a knowledge that he did not possess before. That
seems to be indicated in verse 22 of the
same chapter of the Book of Genesis, where we read: "And the Lord God said,
Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil" (Genesis 3:22). Yes,
it does seem to have been true that when he ate of the forbidden fruit man came
to know something that he had not known before.
He had not known sin
before; now he knew it. He had known only good before; now he knew good and
evil. But what a curse that new knowledge was, and what an immense loss of
knowledge as well as loss of everything else that new knowledge brought in its
train! He now knew good and evil; but, alas, he knew good now only in memory, so
far as his own experience was concerned; and the evil that he knew he knew to
his eternal loss. Innocence, in other words, was gone.
What would have
been the advance which resistance to that first temptation would have brought to
Adam and Eve? It would have meant that the possibility of sinning would have
been over. The probation would successfully have been sustained; man would have
entered into a blessedness from which all jeopardy would have been
removed.
The advance which a successful resistance to the temptation
would have brought would also have been an advance in knowledge. That tree was
called the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Well, there is perhaps a real
sense in which it would have been to man a tree of the knowledge of good and
evil even if he had not eaten of the fruit of it. If he had resisted the
temptation to eat of the fruit of that tree, he would have come to know evil in
addition to the knowledge that he already had of good. He would not have known
it because he had fallen into it in his own life, but he would have known it
because in his resistance to it he would have known it because in his resistance
to it he would have put it sharply in contrast with good and would deliberately
have rejected it. A state of innocence, in other words, where good was practiced
without any conflict with evil, would have given place to a state of assured
goodness which evil would have been shown to have no power to
disturb.
Such was the blessed state into which God was asking man to
come. It was a state which included what I think we can call a knowledge of good
and evil. Certainly it was a state in which the difference between good and evil
would have been clearly discerned. There was a right way and a wrong way of
seeking to attain discernment. The right way was the way of resistance to evil;
the wrong way was the way of yielding to it.
The ancient lie is put into
men's hearts again and again and again that the only way to attain a state
higher than innocence is to have experience of sin in order to see what sin is
like. Sowing wild oats is thought to be rather a good way of transcending
childish innocence and of attaining strong and mature manhood.
Do you
know how that lie can best be shown to be the lie that it is? Well, my friends,
I think it is by the example of Jesus Christ. Do you despise innocence? Do you
think that it is weak and childish not to have personal experience of evil? Do
you think that if you do not obtain such experience of evil you must forever be
a child?
If you have any such feeling, I just bid you contemplate Jesus
of Nazareth. Does He make upon you any impression of immaturity or childishness?
Was He lacking in some experience that is necessary to the highest manhood? Can
you patronize Him as though He were but a child, whereas you with your boasted
experience of evil are a full-grown man?
If that is the way you think of
Jesus, even unbelievers, if they are at all thoughtful, will correct you. No,
Jesus makes upon all thoughtful persons the impression of complete maturity and
tremendous strength. With unblinking eyes He contemplates the evil of the human
heart. "He knew what was in man" (John 2:25), says
the Gospel according to John. Yet He never had those experiences of sin which
fools think to be necessary if innocence is to be transcended and the highest
manhood to be attained. From His spotless purity and His all-conquering
strength, that ancient lie that experience of evil is necessary if man is to
attain the highest good recoils naked and ashamed.
That was the lie that
the tempter brought to Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. Man was told to seek
discernment in Satan's way and not in God's. Had man resisted the temptation
what heights of knowledge and strength would have been his! But he yielded, and
what was the result? He sought to attain knowledge, and lost the knowledge of
good; he sought to attain power, and lost his own soul; he sought to become as
God, and when God came to him in the garden he hid himself in shameful
fear.
It is a sad story indeed. But it is the beginning and not the end
of the Bible. The first chapters of the Bible tell us of the sin of man. The
guilt of that sin has rested upon every single one of us, its guilt and its
terrible results; but that is not the last word of the Bible. The Bible tells us
not only of man's sin; it also tells us of something greater still; it tells us
of the grace of the offended God.
The Consequences of the
Fall of Man
Man, as created,
was good. God created man in His own image, in knowledge, righteousness, and
holiness. Well, then, if God created man good, how comes it that all men now are
bad? How did sin pass into all mankind? What caused this stupendous change from
good to bad?
Sin came into the world through the sin of Adam. Adam's
descendants do not begin life sinless as he began it. They begin it tainted in
some way or other with the sin that Adam committed. If Adam transgressed, he was
to die. Death was to be the punishment of disobedience. Well, he did transgress.
What then happened? Was Adam the only one who died? Did his descendants begin
where he began? Did they have placed before them all over again that same
alternative between death and life that was placed before Adam? The Book of
Genesis indicates the contrary very clearly. No, the descendants of Adam
already, before they individually made any choices at all, had that penalty of
death resting upon them.
What, then, does that mean? Adam was the
divinely appointed representative of the race. If he obeyed the commandments of
God, the whole race of his descendants would have life; if he disobeyed, the
whole race would have death. I do not see how the narrative in the Book of
Genesis, when you take it as a whole, can mean anything else.
That view
of the matter becomes more explicit in certain important passages of the New
Testament. In the latter part of the fifth chapter of Romans, in particular, the
Apostle Paul makes it plain. "Through one trespass," he there says, "the
judgment came unto all men to condemnation" (Romans 5:18).
"Through the one man's disobedience," he says in the next verse, "the many were
made sinners." In these words and all through this passage we have the great
doctrine that when Adam sinned he sinned as the representative of the race, so
that it is quite correct to say that all mankind sinned in him and fell with him
in his first transgression. There is a profound connection between Adam and the
whole race of his descendants.
God said to Adam that if he disobeyed he
would die. What is the meaning of that death? Well, it includes physical death;
there is no question about that. But, alas, it also includes far more than
physical death. It includes spiritual death; it includes the death of the soul
unto things that are good; it includes the death of the soul unto God. The
dreadful penalty of that sin of Adam was that Adam and his descendants became
dead in trespasses and sins. As a just penalty of Adam's sin, God withdrew his
favor, and the souls of all mankind became spiritually dead. The soul that is
spiritually dead, the soul that is corrupt, is guilty not only because of Adam's
guilt but also because of its own sin. It deserves eternal
punishment.
The doctrine of the wrath of God is not a popular doctrine,
but there is no doctrine that is more utterly pervasive in the Bible. Paul
devotes to it a large part of three chapters out of the eight chapters in his
great Epistle to the Romans which he devotes to the exposition of his message of
salvation, and he is at particular pains to show that the wrath of God rests
upon all men except those who have been saved by God's grace. But there is
nothing peculiar in that great passage in the first three chapters of Romans.
That passage only puts in a comprehensive way what is presupposed from Genesis
to Revelation and becomes explicit in passages almost beyond number.
Does
the teaching of Jesus form any exception to the otherwise pervasive presentation
of the wrath of God in the Bible? Well, you might think so if you listened only
to what modern sentimentality says about Jesus of Nazareth. The men of the
world, who have never been born again, who have never come under the conviction
of sin, have reconstructed a Jesus to suit themselves, a feeble sentimentalist
who preached only the love of God and had nothing to say about God's wrath. But
very different was the real Jesus, the Jesus who is presented to us in our
sources of historical information. The real Jesus certainly proclaimed a God
who, as the Old Testament which he revered as God's Word says, is a "consuming
fire" (Deuteronomy 4:24;
compare Hebrews 12:29).
Very terrible was Jesus' own anger as the Gospels describe it, a profound
burning indignation against sin; and very terrible is the anger of the God whom
He proclaimed as the Ruler of heaven and earth. No, you certainly cannot escape
from the teaching of the Bible about the wrath of God by appealing to Jesus of
Nazareth. The most terrible even among the Biblical presentations of God's wrath
are those that are found in our blessed Savior's words.
Where do you find
the most terrible descriptions of hell in the whole of the Bible? It is Jesus
who speaks of the sin that shall not be forgiven either in this world or that
which is to come; it is Jesus who speaks of the worm that dieth not and the fire
that is not quenched (Mark 9:48); it is
Jesus who has given us the story of the rich man and Lazarus and of the great
gulf between them (Luke 16:19-31);
it is Jesus who says that it is profitable for a man to enter into life having
one eye rather than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire (Matthew 18:9). It
appears in the Sermon on the Mount; it appears of course in the great judgment
chapter, the twenty-fifth of Matthew; it appears in passages too numerous to
mention. It is not somewhere on the circumference of his teaching, but is at the
very heart and core of it.
I do not believe we always understand quite
clearly enough how great is the divergence at this point between the teaching of
Jesus and current preaching. Men are interested today in this world. They have
lost the consciousness of sin, and having lost the consciousness of sin they
have lost the fear of hell. They have tried to make Christianity a religion of
this world. They have come to regard Christianity just as a program for setting
up the conditions of the kingdom of God upon this earth, and they are
tremendously impatient when anyone looks upon it as a means of entering into
heaven and escaping hell.
I have mentioned the Biblical teaching about
hell simply because it is necessary in order that you may understand the
Biblical teaching about sin. The awfulness of the punishment of sin shows as
nothing else could well do how heinous a thing sin really is in the sight of
God.
I have tried to present to you in outline something like the whole
picture — man guilty with the imputed guilt of Adam's first sin, man suffering
therefore the death that is the penalty of that sin, not only physical death but
also that spiritual death that consists in the corruption of man's whole nature
and in his total inability to please God, man bringing forth out of his corrupt
heart individual acts of transgression without number, man facing eternal
punishment in hell. That is the picture that runs all through the Bible.
Mankind, according to the Bible, is a race lost in sin; and sin is not just a
misfortune, but is something that calls forth the white heat of the divine
indignation. Before the awful justice of God no unclean thing can stand; and man
is unclean, transgressor against God's holy law, subject justly to its awful
penalty.
As I try to present that picture to you, I think you as well as
I are impressed with the fact that the men of the present day for the most part
will have none of it. They will not admit at all that mankind is lost in sin. I
remember a service that I attended some years ago in a little church in a pretty
village. The preacher was distinctly above the average in culture and in moral
fervor. I do not remember his sermon (except that it was a glorification of
man); but I do remember something that he said in his prayer. He quoted that
verse from Jeremiah to the effect that the heart of man is "deceitful above all
things, and desperately wicked" (Jeremiah 17:9),
and then he said in his prayer, as nearly as I can remember his words: "O Lord,
thou knowest that we no longer accept this interpretation, but now think that
man does what is right if only he knows the way." Well, that was at least being
frank about the matter. We have a good opinion of ourselves these days, and if
so, why should we not let the Lord in on our secret? Why should we go on quoting
with a sanctimonious air confessions of sin from the Bible if we really do not
believe a word of them? I think the prayer of that village preacher was bad —
very bad — but I also think that perhaps it was not so bad perhaps as the
prayers of those preachers who have really rejected the central message of the
Bible just as completely as he had and yet conceal the fact by the use of
traditional language. At least that prayer raised the issue clearly between the
Biblical view of sin and the paganism of the modern creed, "I believe in
man."
At the very foundation of all that the Bible says is this sad truth
— that mankind is lost in sin. The Bible teaches, we have observed, that every
man comes into the world a sinner. It is against that doctrine that the chief
attack has been made; and I want to say a few words to you about the attack in
order that the Bible doctrine which is attacked may become the more clear. The
attack has come to be connected with the name of a British monk who lived in the
latter part of the fourth and the early part of the fifth century after Christ.
His name was Pelagius. In contravention of the Biblical doctrine, Pelagius said
that every man, far from being born with a corrupt nature, begins life
practically where Adam began it, being perfectly able to choose either good or
evil.
The Bible plainly teaches that sinful actions come from a corrupt
nature of the man who commits them, that individual wrong choices come from the
underlying state of the person who engages in them. A man is morally responsible
for wrong choices springing out of his evil nature, and he is responsible for
the evil nature out of which those wrong choices spring. Sin is not just a
matter of individual actions. Both the bad actions and also the bad state from
which the bad actions come are sin.
I am going to quote one passage from
the teaching of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels and then I am going to ask you
whether that one passage does not sum up the teaching of the whole Bible on this
point. "Either make the tree good, and his fruit good: or else make the tree
corrupt, and his fruit corrupt: for the tree is known by his fruit. O generation
of vipers, how can ye, being evil, speak good things? for out of the abundance
of the heart the mouth speaketh. A good man out of the good treasure of the
heart bringeth forth good things: and an evil man out of the evil treasure
bringeth forth evil things." (Matthew
12:33-35) In the light of these words of Jesus, so simple and so profound,
how utterly shallow the whole Pelagian view of sin is seen to be! According to
Jesus, evil actions come from an evil heart, and both the actions and the heart
from which they come are sinful.
That view is the view of the whole
Bible. There is in the Bible from beginning to end no shadow of comfort for the
shallow notion that sin is a matter only of individual choices and that a bad
man can, without being changed within, suddenly bring forth good actions. No,
the Bible everywhere finds the root of evil in the heart, and by the heart it
does not mean just the feelings but the whole inner life of man. The heart of
man, it tells us, is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked, and
because of that, man is a sinner in the sight of God. An evil man inevitably
performs evil actions; the thing is as certain as that a corrupt tree will bring
forth corrupt fruit: but the evil man performs those evil actions because he
wants to perform them; they are his own free personal acts and he is responsible
for them in the sight of God.
The Bible from beginning to end plainly
teaches that individual sins come from a sinful nature, and that the nature of
all men is sinful from their birth. "Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in
sin did my mother conceive me" — these words of the Fifty-first Psalm summarize,
in the cry of a penitent sinner, a doctrine of sin that runs through the Bible
from Genesis to Revelation. Upon that Biblical view of sin depends also the
Biblical view of salvation. Does the Bible teach that all Christ did for us is
to set us a good example which we are perfectly able to follow without a change
of our hearts? The man who thinks so is a man who has not come even to the
threshold of the great central truth which the Scriptures contain. "Ye must be
born again," said Jesus Christ (John 3:7). There is
no hope whatever for us until we are born again by an act that is not our own;
there is no hope that we shall really choose the right until we are made alive
by the Spirit of the living God.
Nothing that fallen and unregenerate men
can do is really well-pleasing to God. Many things that they do are able to
please us, with our imperfect standards, but nothing that they do is able to
please God; nothing that they do can stand in the white light of His judgment
throne. Some of their actions may be relatively good, but none of them are
really good. All of them are affected by the deep depravity of the fallen human
nature from which they come.
That brings us to another aspect of the
great Biblical doctrine of depravity. It is found in the complete inability of
fallen man to lift himself out of his fallen condition. Fallen man, according to
the Bible, is unable to contribute the smallest part of the great change by
which he is made to be alive from the dead. Men who are dead in trespasses and
sins are utterly unable to have saving faith, just as completely unable as a
dead man lying in a tomb is unable to contribute the slightest bit to his
resurrection. When a man is born again, the Holy Spirit works faith in him, and
the man contributes nothing whatever to that blessed result. After he has been
born again, he does cooperate with the Spirit of God in the daily battle against
sin; after he has been made alive by God, he proceeds to show that he is alive
by bringing forth good works: but until he is made alive he can do nothing that
is really good; and the act of the Spirit of God by which he is made alive is a
resistless and sovereign act.
Man, according to the Bible, is not merely
sick in trespasses and sins; he is not merely in a weakened condition so that he
needs divine help: but he is dead in trespasses and sins. He can do absolutely
nothing to save himself, and God saves him by the gracious, sovereign act of the
new birth. The Bible is a tremendously uncompromising book in this matter of the
sin of man and the grace of God.
The Biblical doctrine of the grace of
God does not mean, as caricatures of it sometimes represent it as meaning, that
a man is saved against his will. No, it means that a man's will itself is
renewed. His act of faith is his own act. He performs that act gladly, and is
sure that he never was so free as when he performs it. Yet he is enabled to
perform it simply by the gracious, sovereign act of the Spirit of
God.
Ah, my friends, how precious is that doctrine of the grace of God!
It is not in accordance with human pride. It is not a doctrine that we should
ever have evolved. But when it is revealed in God's Word, the hearts of the
redeemed cry, Amen. Sinners saved by grace love to ascribe not some but all of
the praise to God.
We come now to ask what sin at bottom is. Widely
different answers have been given to this question, and with these different
answers have gone different views of the world and of God and of human life. The
true answer is to be obtained very clearly in the Bible; but before I present
that true answer to you, I want to speak to you about one or two wrong answers,
in order that by contrast with them the true answer may be the more clearly
understood.
In the first place, many men have notions of sin which really
deprive sin of all its distinctiveness, or, rather, many men simply deny the
existence of anything that can properly be called sin at all. According to a
very widespread way of thinking in the unbelief of the present day, what we
popularly call morality is simply the accumulated experience of the race as to
the kind of conduct that leads to racial preservation and well-being. Tribes in
which every man sought his own pleasure without regard to the welfare of his
neighbors failed, it is said, in the struggle for existence, whereas those
tribes that restrained the impulses of their members for the good of the whole
prospered and multiplied. By a process of natural selection, therefore,
according to this theory, it came more and more to be true that among the races
of mankind those that cultivated solidarity were the ones that
survived.
In the course of time — so the theory runs — the lowly origin
of these social restraints was altogether lost from view, and they were felt to
be rooted in something distinctive that came to be called morality or virtue. It
is only in modern times that we have got behind the scenes and have discovered
the ultimate identity between what we call "morality" and the self-interest of
society. Such is a very widespread theory. According to that theory "sin" is
only another name — and a very unsatisfactory name too — for anti-social
conduct.
What shall we say of that notion of sin from the Christian point
of view? The answer is surely quite plain. We must reject it very emphatically.
"Against thee, thee only, have I sinned," says the Psalmist (Psalm 51:4). That
is at the very heart of the Bible from beginning to end. Sin, according to the
Bible, is not just conduct that is contrary to the accumulated experience of the
race; it is not just anti-social conduct: but it is an offence primarily against
God.
Equally destructive of any true idea of sin is the error of those
who say that the end of all human conduct is, or (as some of them say) ought to
be, pleasure. Sometimes the pleasure which is regarded as the goal to be set
before men is the pleasure of the individual — refined and thoroughly
respectable pleasure no doubt, but still pleasure. Such a view has sometimes
produced lives superficially decent. But even such superficial decency is not
apt to be very lasting, and the degrading character of the philosophy underlying
it is certain to make itself felt even on the surface sooner or later. Certainly
that philosophy can never have a place for any notion that with any propriety at
all could be called a true notion of sin.
Sometimes, it is true, the
pleasure which is made the goal of human conduct is thought of as the pleasure,
or (to use a more high-sounding word) the happiness, not of the individual but
of the race. According to that view, altruism — namely, regard for the greatest
happiness of the greatest number — is thought to be the sum-total of
morality.
Thus we have seen in the newspapers recently a good deal of
discussion about "mercy-killing" or "euthanasia". Certain physicians say very
frankly that they think hopeless invalids, who never by any chance can be of use
either to themselves or to anyone else, ought to be put painlessly out of the
way. The modern advocates of euthanasia are arguing the thing out on an entirely
different basis from the basis on which the Christian argues it. They are
arguing the question on the basis of what is useful — what produces happiness
and avoids pain for the human race. The Christian argues it on the basis of a
definite divine command. "Thou shalt not kill" (Exodus 20:13)
settles the matter for the Christian. From the Christian point of view the
physician who engages in a mercy-killing is just a murderer. It may also turn
out that his mercy-killing is not really merciful in the long run. But that is
not the point. The real point is that be it never so merciful, it is murder, and
murder is sin.
The views of sin that we have considered so far are
obviously opposed to Christianity. No Christian can hold that morality is just
the accumulated self-interest of the race, and that sin is merely conduct
opposed to such self-interest. The Christian obviously must hold that
righteousness is something quite distinct from happiness and that sin is
something quite distinct from folly.
What, then, is sin? We have said
what it is not. Now we ought to say what it is. Fortunately we do not have to
search very long in the Bible to find the answer to that question. The Bible
gives the answer right at the beginning in the account that it gives of the very
first sin of man. What was that first sin of man, according to the Bible? Is not
the answer perfectly clear? Why, it was disobedience to a command of God. God
said, "Ye shall not eat of the fruit of the tree"; man ate of the fruit of the
tree: and that was sin. There we have our definition of sin at last.
"Sin
is any want of conformity unto, or transgression of, the law of God." Those are
the words of the Shorter Catechism, not of the Bible; but they are true to what
the Bible teaches from Genesis to Revelation. The most elementary thing about
sin is that it is that which is contrary to God's law. You cannot believe in the
existence of sin unless you believe in the existence of the law of God. The idea
of sin and the idea of law go together.
That being so, I ask you just to
run through the Bible in your mind and consider how very pervasive in the Bible
is the Bible's teaching about the law of God. We have already observed how clear
that teaching is in the account which the Bible gives of the first sin of man.
God said, "Ye shall not eat of the fruit of the tree". That was God's law; it
was a definite command. Man disobeyed that command; man did what God told him
not to do: and that was sin. But the law of God runs all through the Bible. It
is not found just in this passage or that, but it is the background of
everything that the Bible says regarding the relations between God and
man.
Consider for a moment how large a part of the Old Testament is
occupied with the law of God — the law as it was given through Moses. Do you
think that came by chance? Not at all. It came because the law is truly
fundamental in what the Bible has to say. All through the Old Testament there is
held up a great central thought — God the lawgiver, man owing obedience to Him.
How it is, then, with the New Testament? Does the New Testament obscure that
thought; does the New Testament depreciate in any way the law of God? "Think
not," said Jesus, "that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not
come to destroy, but to fulfill" (Matthew
5:17).
Consider for a moment, my friends, the majesty of the law of
God as the Bible sets it forth. One law over all — valid for Christians, valid
for non-Christians, valid now and valid to all eternity. How grandly that law is
promulgated amid the thunderings of Sinai! How much more grandly still and much
more terribly it is set forth in the teaching of Jesus — in His teaching and in
His example! With what terror we are fain to say, with Peter, in the presence of
that dazzling purity: "Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord" (Luke 5:8)
Nowhere in the Bible, in the teaching of Jesus our Savior, do we escape from the
awful majesty of the law of God — written in the constitution of the universe,
searching the innermost recesses of the soul, embracing every idle word and
every action and every secret thought of the heart, inescapable, all-inclusive,
holy, terrible. God the lawgiver, man the subject; God the ruler, man the ruled!
The service of God is a service that is perfect freedom, a duty that is the
highest of all joys; yet it is a service still. Let us never forget that. God
was always and is forever the sovereign King; the whole universe is beneath His
holy law.
This law is grounded in the infinite perfection of the being of
God Himself. "Be ye therefore perfect," said Jesus, "even as your Father which
is in heaven is perfect" (Matthew 5:48). That
is the standard. It is a holy law, as God Himself is holy. If that be the law of
God, how awful a thing is sin! Not an offence against some rule proceeding from
temporal authority or enforced by temporal penalties, but an offence against the
infinite and eternal God!
I know that some of my hearers regard what I
have been saying as being no more worthy of consideration than the hobgoblins
and bogies with which nurses used to frighten naughty children. An outstanding
characteristic of the age in which we are living is a disbelief in anything that
can be called a law of God and in particular a disbelief in anything that can
properly be called sin. The plain fact is that the men of our day are living for
the most part in an entirely different world of thought and feeling and life
from the world in which the Christian lives. The difference does not just
concern this detail or that: it concerns the entire basis of life; it concerns
the entire atmosphere in which men live and move and have their being. At the
heart of everything that the Bible says are two great truths, which belong
inseparably together — the majesty of the law of God, and sin as an offence
against that law. Both these basic truths are denied in modern society, and in
the denial of them is found the central characteristic of the age in which we
are living.
Well, what sort of age is that; what sort of age is this in
which the law of God is regarded as obsolete and in which there is no
consciousness of sin? I will tell you. It is an age in which the disintegration
of society is proceeding on a gigantic scale. Look about you, and what do you
see? Everywhere the throwing off of restraint, the abandonment of
standards.
The consciousness of sin alone leads men to turn to the Savior
from sin, and the consciousness of sin comes only when men are brought face to
face with the law of God. But men have no consciousness of sin today, and what
are we going to do? I remember that that problem was presented very poignantly
in my hearing some time ago by a preacher who was sadly puzzled. Here we are,
said he. We are living in the twentieth century. We have to take things as we
find them; and as a matter of fact, whether we like it or not, if we talk to the
young people of the present day about sin and guilt they will not know what we
are talking about; they will simply turn away from us in utter boredom, and they
will turn from the Christ whom we preach. Is not that really too bad? he
continued. Is it not really too bad for them to miss the blessing that Christ
has for them if only they would come to Him? If, therefore, they will not come
to Christ in our way, ought we not to invite them to come in their way? If they
will not come to Christ through the consciousness of sin induced by the terror
of the law of God, may we not get them to come through the attraction of the
amiable ethics of Jesus and the usefulness of His teaching in solving the
problems of society?
I am afraid that in response to such questions we
shall just have to answer, "No." I am afraid we shall just have to say that
being a Christian is a much more tragic thing than these people suppose. I am
afraid we shall just have to tell them that they cannot clamber over the wall
into the Christian way. I am afraid we shall just have to point them to the
little wicket gate, and tell them to seek their Savior while yet He may be
found, in order that He may rescue them from the day of wrath.
But is
that not utterly hopeless? Is it not utterly hopeless to try to get the people
of the twentieth century to take the law of God with any seriousness or to be
the slightest bit frightened about their sins? I answer, Certainly it is
hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. As hopeless as it is for a camel to pass through
the eye of a needle. But, you see, there is One who can do hopeless things. That
is, the Spirit of the living God.
The Spirit of God has not lost His
power. In His own good time, He will send His messengers even to a wicked and
adulterous and careless generation. He will convict men of sin; He will break
down men's pride; He will melt their stony hearts. Then He will lead them to the
Savior of their souls.
Is Mankind Lost in
Sin?
We have spoken of
the first sin of man, and we have spoken of the question, "What is sin?" The
question now arises what consequences that first sin of man has had for us and
for all men. Some people think it had very slight consequences — if indeed these
people think that there ever was a first sin of man at all, in the sense in
which it is described in the third chapter of Genesis.
I remember that
some years ago, when I was driving home in my car after a summer vacation, I
stayed over Sunday in a certain city without any particular reason except that I
do not like to travel on that day. Being without any acquaintance with the city,
I dropped into what seemed perhaps to be the leading church in the central part
of the town.
What I heard in that church was typical of what one hears in
a great many churches today. It was the Sunday on which new teachers were being
inducted into office. The pastor preached a sermon appropriate to the occasion.
There are two notions about the teaching of children in the Church, he said.
According to one notion, the children are to be told that they are sinners and
need a Savior. That is the old notion, he said; it has been abandoned in the
modern Church. According to the other notion, he said, which is of course the
notion that we moderns hold, the business of the teacher is to nurture the
tender plant of the religious nature of the child in order that it may bear
fruit in a normal and healthy religious life.
Was that preacher right, or
was what he designated as the old notion right? Are children born good, or are
they born bad? Do they need, in order that they may grow up into Christian
manhood, merely the use of the resources planted in them at birth, or do they
need a new birth and a divine Savior?
That is certainly a momentous
question. We may answer the question in this way or in that, but about the
importance of the question I do not see how there can well be any doubt. That
preacher, in the church of which I have spoken, recognized the importance of the
question. He answered the question that he raised quite wrongly, but at least he
was right in looking the question fairly in the face. I propose that we should
imitate that preacher in facing the question fairly, even though our conclusion
may turn out to be different from his. Is each man the captain of his own soul,
and a pretty capable captain too, or is all mankind lost in sin? Does the Bible
teach that children are born into the world good (or at least evenly balanced
between badness and goodness), or does it teach that all save one child are born
in sin?
When we approach the Bible with that question in our minds, one
thing is at once perfectly clear. It is that the Bible from Genesis to
Revelation teaches that all men (with the one exception of Jesus Christ) are as
a matter of fact sinners in the sight of God. In one great passage,
particularly, that truth, that all men are sinners, is made the subject of
definite exposition and proof. That passage is found in Romans 1:18 -
3:20. There the Apostle Paul, before he goes on to set forth the gospel,
sets forth the universal need of the gospel. All have need of the gospel, he
says, because all without exception are sinners. The Gentiles are sinners. They
have disobeyed God's law, even though they have not that law in the particularly
clear form in which it was presented to God's chosen people through Moses.
Because they have disobeyed God's law, and as a punishment for their
disobedience of it, they have sunk deeper and deeper into the mire of sin. The
Jews also, says Paul, are sinners. They have great advantages; they have a
special revelation from God; in particular they have a supernatural revelation
of God's law. But it is not the hearing of the law that causes a man to be
righteous but the doing of it; and the Jews, alas, though they have heard it,
have not done it. They too are transgressors.
So all have sinned,
according to Paul. He drives that truth home by a series of Old Testament
Scripture quotations beginning with the words: "There is none righteous, no, not
one: there is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God.
They are all gone out of the way, they are together become unprofitable; there
is none that doeth good, no, not one." (Romans
3:10-12)
I think it is hardly too much to say that if this Pauline
teaching about the universal sinfulness of mankind is untrue, the whole of the
rest of that glorious Epistle, the Epistle to the Romans, falls to the ground.
Imagine Paul as admitting that a single mere man since the fall ever was
righteous in the sight of God, not needing, therefore, redemption through the
precious blood of Christ; and you see at once that such a Paul would be a
totally different Paul from the one who speaks in every page of the Epistle to
the Romans and in every one of the other Pauline Epistles that the New Testament
contains. The light of the gospel, in the teaching of Paul, stands out always
against the dark background of a race universally lost in sin.
Is the
case any different in the rest of the Bible? I care not at this point whether
you turn to the Old Testament or to the New Testament. Everywhere there is the
same terrible diagnosis of the ill of mankind.
"Two men," said Jesus,
"went up into the temple to pray, the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican.
The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am
not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this
publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess. And the
publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven,
but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner." (Luk
18:10-13)
Which of these two men received a blessing from God when he
prayed there in the temple — the man who thought he was an exception to God's
call to repentance or the one who beat upon his breast and confessed himself a
sinner? Jesus tells us very plainly. The publican went down to his house
justified rather than the other. Ah, my friends, how terrible is the rebuke of
Jesus again and again and again for those who think that they form exceptions to
the universal sinfulness of mankind!
A rich young ruler came running to
Jesus one day, and asked him, "Good Master, what shall I do that I may inherit
eternal life?" Jesus repeated to him a number of the commandments. The man said,
"All these have I observed from my youth." Jesus said, "One thing thou lackest:
go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor." The young man went
away sorrowful. (Mark 10:17-22)
He lacked something; he was not good as God regards goodness. The point is that
every man always lacks something. No man comes up to God's standard; no man can
inherit the kingdom of God if he stands upon his own obedience to God's
law.
Did you ever observe what incident comes just before this incident
of the rich young ruler in all three of the Synoptic Gospels — in Matthew and in
Mark and in Luke? It is the incident of the bringing of little children to
Jesus, when Jesus said to the disciples, as reported in Mark and similarly in
Luke: "Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he
shall not enter therein" (Mark 10:15). There
is a profound connection between these two incidents, as there is also a
connection of both of them with the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican
which in Luke immediately precedes.
Some years ago I heard a sermon on
the incident of the Rich Young Ruler. What are the sermons that we are apt to
remember? I think they are the sermons where the preacher does not preach
himself but where he truly unfolds the meaning of some great passage of the Word
of God.
The sermon of which I am now thinking is one which was preached
some time ago in a Philadelphia church by my colleague, Professor R. B. Kuiper.
He took the incident of the Rich Young Ruler together with the incident of the
bringing of the little children to Jesus, and he showed how both incidents teach
the same great lesson — the lesson of the utter helplessness of man the sinner
and the absolute necessity of the free grace of God. You cannot depend for your
entrance into the kingdom of God upon anything that you have or anything that
you are. You must be as helpless as a little child. Your reliance cannot be on
your own goodness, for you have none. It can only be upon the grace of
God.
God has told us that we are sinners; He has told us in His own holy
Word from beginning to end. Well may the Apostle John say, in view of the whole
of the Bible: "If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar" (I John
1:10). God is not a liar, my friends. This world is lost in sin.
Some time ago I heard a sermon on this text by a
preacher who has now retired. The sermon was not one that I agreed with
altogether, but the beginning of it, I thought, was interesting. The preacher
said that during the preceding summer he had met in a chance sort of way, on one
of the steamers of the Great Lakes, a gentleman who turned out to be a man of
large affairs, but a man who had little to do with the church. Incidentally the
conversation turned to religious matters, and the man of business gave to the
preacher the benefit of a little criticism. The criticism was perhaps not
unworthy of attention. "You preachers," the outsider said, "don't preach hell
enough."
Usually the criticism which is leveled at the church by men who
know nothing about it is as valueless as ignorant criticism is in other spheres.
But in this case I am inclined to think that the critic was right. We preachers
do not preach hell enough, and we do not say enough about sin. We talk about the
gospel and wonder why people are not interested in what we say. Of course they
are not interested. No man is interested in a piece of good news unless he has
the consciousness of needing it; no man is interested in an offer of salvation
unless he knows that there is something from which he needs to be saved. It is
quite useless to ask a man to adopt the Christian view of the gospel unless he
first has the Christian view of sin.
But a man will never adopt the
Christian view of sin if he considers merely the sin of the world or the sins of
other people. Consideration of the sins of other people is the deadliest of
moral anodynes; it relieves the pain of conscience but it also destroys moral
life. Many persons gloat over denunciations of that to which they are not
tempted; or they even gloat over denunciations, in the case of other people, of
sins which are also really theirs. King David was very severe when the prophet
Nathan narrated to him his sordid tale of greed. "As the Lord liveth," said
David, "the man that hath done this thing shall surely die." But Nathan was a
disconcerting prophet. "And Nathan said to David, Thou art the man." (II Samuel
12:5, 7) That was for
David the beginning of a real sense of his sin. So it will also be with
us.
Of course it seems quite preposterous that we should be sinners. It
was preposterous also for King David seated on his throne in the majesty of his
royal robes. It was preposterous, but it was true. So also it is preposterous
for us. It seems to be a strange notion to treat respectable people as sinners.
In the case of college men, it seems particularly absurd. College men look so
pleasant; it seems preposterous to connect them with the dreadful fact of sin.
Some time ago I was reading, I think in a journal published in London, a review
of a book that dealt with religious conditions among university men or young
people. The author of the book spoke of the moral ideals of the young men of the
present day as being summed up in the notion of being a good sport. The young
men of the present day, it was said in effect, may not use the old terminology
of guilt and retribution, but they dislike the man who does not know how to play
fairly a match of lawn tennis and does not know how to take defeat like a
gentleman. The remark of the reviewer, I thought, was eminently just. Surely, he
said, with regard to this very common lawn tennis view of sin — surely, he said,
among university men "there are grimmer facts than these." He was right, and we
know he was right. He was right about university men in England; he was right
about college men in America; and he was right about the rest of us as well.
There are grimmer facts than poor lawn tennis and poor sport, regrettable though
that no doubt is. There is, in general, in a thousand ugly forms, the grim fact
of sin.
So when I speak of sin I am not talking to you about the sin of
other people, but I am talking to you about your sin, and I am talking to myself
about my sin. I am talking about that particular battle ground where you come to
grips with the power of evil and where you meet your God.
Suppose that on
that battle ground we have met defeat. What is the result? The answer of the
text and the answer of the whole Bible is short and plain. "The wages of sin,"
says the Bible, "is death" (Romans 6:23). I
shall not pause just now to consider in detail what Paul means by "death" —
except just to point out this interesting fact that if you want to find the most
terrible descriptions of this eternal death you will find them not in Paul but
in Jesus. It is the custom nowadays to appeal from the supposedly gloomy
theology of Paul to the supposedly sunny philosophy of Jesus; but the strange
things is that it is Jesus, not Paul, who speaks of the outer darkness and the
everlasting fire and of the sin that shall not be forgiven either in this world
or in that which is to come. Paul is content in his Epistles to treat of the
punishment of sin with some reserve — a reserve very impressive and very
terrifying, it is true — but Jesus is more explicit. Jesus makes abundantly
plain that the offender against God's law is facing something far more dreadful,
to say the least, than mere annihilation would be. The teaching of Jesus has at
the very center of it the fear of God and the fear of hell. No human law without
sanction is complete; a law without a penalty is an altogether worthless and
pitiful thing. Are God's laws of this pitiful kind?
There are some people
who seem to think that they are. But as a matter of fact God's laws have
attached to them sanctions compared with which all human penalties are as
nothing.
The fact appears even in the course of this world. There is a
deadly inexorableness about the laws of nature. Offend against the laws of
health, and the result follows with a terrible certainty; no excuses will avail;
crying and tears will count nothing; the retribution, however deferred, is sure.
In the sphere of the physical life, it is certainly clear that the wages of sin
is death. But many people think that the paymaster can be cheated, that after a
life of sin we can present ourselves hopefully at the cashier's window and be
paid in some different coin from that which we have earned. Do you really agree
with them? Do you really think that in this accounting you can cheat? Do you
really think that by care in the physical sphere you can avoid the consequences
of sin? There is something within us that tells us that such is not the case;
there is something within us that reveals the abyss over which we are standing,
that brushes aside our petty excuses, that reveals in the inner, moral sphere,
as in the physical realm, the same terrible inexorableness of law. God grant
that we may not deceive ourselves! God grant that we may not hope to cheat! God
grant that we may learn in time that the wages of sin is death!
There is
a definiteness and certainty about wages. Wages are different from a spontaneous
gift; wages, unlike a gift, are fixed. A man has done his week's work; he
presents himself at the paymaster's desk, and is paid off; the matter is not
discussed; the employee does not try then to strike a bargain with the cashier.
The amount of the payment has been determined beforehand, and the payment itself
is a purely formal, impersonal affair. So it is, somewhat, with the wages of
sin. The wages have been fixed already. I do not mean that all sins are punished
alike; no doubt at God's judgment seat there is a delicacy of discrimination
quite impossible under human laws. And I do not mean that the penalty of sin
follows merely by a natural law that is independent of God. But however the law
has been established, it is, when once established, inexorable. It is quite
useless for a man to argue about the penalty of his sin; it is useless in the
physical sphere of the laws of health, and it will be useless when we appear at
last before Him who knows the secrets of the heart. Let us not deceive
ourselves, my friends. The moral constitution of the universe is a very terrible
thing. Let us not think that we can trifle with it. The world is governed by
inexorable law. And that law establishes by an immutable decree the dreadful
consequences of sin. The wages of sin is death.
At that point some
preachers stop. Here stopped, for example, the noted preacher whose sermon gave
us our text and our subject today. The terribleness of sin and the
inexorableness of law — it is writ large in the physical organism of man and in
the whole course of nature. It is also writ large in the Bible. But the Bible,
unlike nature, does not stop here. "The wages of sin is death" — it is a great
truth, but it is not the end of our text. The wages of sin is death — that is
the law. But the Bible contains more than the law; it contains also the gospel.
"The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ
Jesus our Lord" (Romans
6:23).
The free gift is contrasted with wages. Yet men persist in
dragging it down to the wage level; they persist in trying to make the gift of
God a product of some law. They persist in regarding salvation as proceeding by
some natural process from faith or from some other quality of men. They regard
Christianity as founded upon permanent principles of religion instead of being
founded upon an unexpected piece of news. When will the vain effort be
abandoned? Salvation is nothing, or it is a free gift; it is not a principle
that has been discovered but an event that has happened.
The trouble is
that we are unwilling to take God at His word. We persist in endeavoring to save
ourselves. If we have learned to any degree that lesson of the law, if we have
come to have a horror of sin, we persist in thinking that it depends upon us to
get rid of it. We try to make use of our own moral resources in this struggle,
and we fall yet deeper and deeper into the mire. When shall we take God at His
word? When shall we simply accept, in faith, the gift of salvation which He has
offered?
It is certainly worth accepting. It consists in "eternal life."
We need not now ask in detail what that means. But certainly it is as glorious
as the "death" with which it is contrasted is terrible. It is certainly
happiness as contrasted with woe, but it is far more than happiness. It involves
service, and it involves the presence of God.
The free gift of God is an
absolutely unaccountable event in the life of every man who accepts it. It is
not the natural working out of a principle, but it is a thing that happens. But
that happening in the soul is the result of a happening in the sphere of
external history. The free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our
Lord. There we have the central characteristic of our religion; the central
characteristic of Christianity is that it is not founded merely upon what always
was true but primarily upon something that happened — something that took place
near Jerusalem at a definite time in the world's history. In other words, it is
founded not merely upon permanent truths of religion, but upon a "gospel," a
piece of news.
The Christian preacher, be he ever so humble, is entrusted
with that gospel. We could not hope to be listened to if we had merely our own
thoughts; there are so many others in the world wiser and more learned than we.
But in a time of peril in a beleaguered city the humblest of day-laborers is
more worth listening to than the greatest of orators, if he has news. So it is
with the Christian preacher in this deadly peril of the soul. The wages of sin
is death — that is the law. But at the decisive point Christ has taken the wages
upon Himself — that is the gospel. Inexorable is the moral law of God. But God's
mercy has used, and triumphed over, His law. We deserved eternal death; but
Christ died instead of us on the cross. Shall we accept the gift? The result
will be a fresh start in God's favor and then a winning battle against sin. "The
wages of sin is death; but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus
our Lord."