There are two great points in this chapter: First, the effect of the law, when anyone is under it;
Secondly, the contrast between law and promise, and whether it he by law, or by promise, that the blessing of the inheritance is ours.
In the early part of the chapter (I do not speak now of the first two or three verses), we are told that the effect of being under the law is to be “under the curse “; in the latter part, we find the blessings of the inheritance ours, not by law, but by promise: “If ye be Christ's, then are ye Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise.” Thus are the counsels of God brought out, and this in a manner that applies itself to the constant tendency of the human heart and its actings, which ever go to exalt man, and to debase God.
It is singular the way in which the human heart is continually reasoning within itself, as if there was no distinct revelation from God of His mind-searching and inquiring in order that it may conclude something about itself and God. Now it is quite true that the power of grace must work, in order that this revelation should be understood. But it is not merely in the unconverted man that there is this reasoning. Alas! he often reasons not at all, but goes on in his own way, careless, reckless, and unconcerned. In the heart of the saints there is constant reasoning with regard to their standing before God. And, in all such cases, it is quite plain that faith is not in exercise. Whenever I begin to reason on the state of my own soul, faith is not in exercise. I do not say that the person is not a believer, but I say, faith is not in exercise. This is quite evident. Faith receives the testimony of God, and does not reason about it. There the difficulty lies. It is not that revelation is not plain, but that the heart of man is not subdued.
It is not a proof that faith is in exercise when I do not judge myself, because, when I judge myself, I judge myself before the Lord, in order to have removed whatever may be found within me that is wrong in His sight. Grace enables me to do this. But whenever there is any reasoning from myself as to my condition, faith is not in exercise. It is true this reasoning may follow upon belief in testimony (—be, in that sense, a consequence of faith), but it is not faith. That is, I may believe there is a judgment to come, and that Christ can be my only Savior (seeing there is not salvation in another, for “there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved”), and I may set about reasoning as to what will be my portion, whether I can say that Christ is my Savior; but this is not, in itself, any right exercise of faith.
We shall find the testimony of the word of God to be most simple. Yet, wherever the natural conscience is awakened, there is a certain sense of responsibility to God (indeed that is, in a sense, the awakening of it)—the knowledge that God takes notice of all that is going on, of what we do, and the like, and that there is a judgment to come. Therefore the moment a man's conscience is so awakened (the grace of God not being known), he begins to inquire whether his good act is such as God can approve and accept; and thence he draws some inference as to his own future happiness or misery. This is the natural state of man—of every man that thinks about the matter. But it is alas! the real condition too of multitudes of believers in Christ, and of those even who have once known redemption largely. There is a constant tendency in the heart to turn again to self—to a condition in which man stands responsible to God. It is always the case when the soul has got out of the power of the testimony of the Spirit of God as to the completeness of redemption; as also when we have not come to a distinct knowledge of the hopelessness of our condition before God as men. I say “to a distinct knowledge;” that is, when the soul has not estimated truthfully the hopelessness of its case, that in the flesh good does not dwell, and become fully satisfied that everything—all the practical righteousness, holiness, or graciousness of the saint—is consequent upon the introduction of that new thing created in us by the power of God because of the risen Jesus.
We get in these Galatians an example of this, where the soul, after having had the knowledge of grace in Jesus Christ “evidently set forth crucified among them,” went back. They had “begun in the Spirit,” and they now thought “in the flesh” to add to what Christ had done. That is, that they could, by that which is in man, and of man—the old man too—add to that which is of the new man, Christ. And that, I repeat, beloved, is the constant tendency of the heart. Wherever there is not the distinct knowledge of the hopelessness of man's condition before God, we go back to get from Man something which may be added to what God has given us in the Lord Jesus Christ. John says, “This is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in His Son.” Now if we do not know that the flesh cannot in any way come in and take a share or part in it, we are constantly adding and connecting something of the flesh.
(To be continued.)