People who focus on law are called legalists.  In the old days, legalists were portrayed as sour-faced folks who forbid any fun or enjoyment and had strict rules about no movies, or dancing, or card playing. Today, “legalist” is a term of ultimate condescension and is reserved mostly for religious people.  No one wants to be branded a legalist today.  

And yet, most of us are legalists at heart.  At least, I certainly am.  I suspect you are as well.

I looked up “legalistic” in my Oxford Dictionary and found a cavalcade of synonyms, including the word “nice.”  Is it possible to be nice, yet still be a legalist?

For a good portion of my life, I was a nice legalist. I did not (at least outwardly) usually judge or condemn others. But I was a legalist nonetheless.

Are We All Legalists?

Here’s the best definition of legalism I’ve found:

“expecting righteousness through one’s own efforts rather than accepting righteousness as a gift of God.”

Most of us seek a sense of well-being or personal affirmation. While “righteousness” is a religious word, most of us want to feel “right.”  We know we will not always be right about every thought or action, but we want to feel a sense of rightness about ourselves. Most of us assume this righteousness (or sense of self-worth) comes “through our own efforts.” 

Imagine that we’re all in a gym, seeking self-improvement through various forms of exercise.  Some legalists exercise their literal muscles to feel healthy and well, or perhaps feel more attractive.  Others exercise moral muscles through good works or character formation to become “a good person.”  Others exercise devotion to a tribal dogma that confirms their purity and dedication to “the cause.”

None of these people in the gym would call themselves religious. Yet they all pursue some form of legalism—they expect righteousness (expressing itself in a multitude of forms) through their own efforts. 

Christian Legalists

Some people in the gym notice a door at the far end below a closed-circuit TV camera.  A sign above the door reads: “Welcome to Club Heaven” but there is no handle on the door. They ask, “What is this Club Heaven?” and are told, “It’s a platinum level membership offering eternal health.”  “Great!  How do I join?” “The club owner is constantly watching everyone in the gym through that TV camera.  Anyone who through peak performance proves they are ready for Club Heaven is automatically buzzed in through the door.” 

Imagine you hear this offer and begin training to make it through that door.  You build muscle mass and are feeling like a shoo-in.  Any visit now, you are sure the owner will buzz you into Club Heaven. 

But then one day as you enter the gym, there is a surprise waiting for you.  A massive barbell in the middle of the floor has a sign posted on it indicating that only those who can lift and press this weight are worthy of Club Heaven!

You walk over to look more closely.  The weights on either end of the bar are immense! Even the strongest person alive could never possibly lift it.  In the face of the weight that you see before you, what do you do?

One option is to give up and walk away.  The task is impossible.

Another option is to continue training.  Part of you realizes that no one could ever budge that weight, but you say to yourself: “Maybe all that weight is just to scare away those who aren’t serious.  Maybe if I show the Club Heaven owner how hard I’m working, I’ll still be accepted.  Maybe it’s not how much weight I can lift, but how hard I try.” 

And so, rather than giving up, you keep coming to the gym.  After awhile, you notice that others like you who have not given up fall into one of two groups.

One group wants to be inconspicuous.  They do their lifting off in the corners because they know they will never measure up to the massive weight expected of them. But they keep trying.

The other group doesn’t mind attention—in fact, a few even crave it.  Most are not lifting any more weight than the shy ones sweating away in the corners—in fact, often it is even less. We call these folks legalists because they make a show out of what they are lifting.

Although their attitudes are diametrically opposed, both groups operate on the same assumption: try hard and hope for the best.  When the time comes, they hope the owner constantly watching everyone in the gym will notice how hard they work and buzz them into Club Heaven anyway.  

However, there is a third option. A few people fall down on their knees in despair in front of that massive weight they know they will never lift.  They look straight into the TV camera and cry out to the club owner, “Isn’t there some other way? Have mercy on me!”

The Law

You might assume all Christians would be on the side of God’s law. 

Many, however, are “nice” legalists. They discount the tremendous weight of the law and concentrate instead on what they can do in their own efforts, believing God will give them a fair shake if they try hard enough. Paul’s entire letter to the Romans shows that they are mistaken when they “expect righteousness through their own efforts.”

Other Christians have been wounded by the law, usually most severely when wielded by their fellow church members. God’s law was used as a whip with the sting of judgment whenever they did not measure up.  In the old days, maybe they had a child out of wedlock or were divorced. Today, maybe they vote for Democrats or diverge in some way from expected social or cultural norms. 

Both groups conclude Jesus discounted all biblical law with his message of unconditional love. Such anti-law attitudes play well today, both inside and outside the church.  The surest way to get nods of agreement around the table in the lunchroom is to say that Christianity should be about love, not law. 

Consequently, there is a great disconnect today between love and law, love and authority, love and God’s standards of behavior.  We believe we must choose between a God of law and a God of love.  A God of both law and love is a paradox we cannot countenance. We must choose.  And who wants to choose law over love?

The Third Option

Christianity becomes genuine and real for us when we take the third option.   We admit God’s expectations are right and just, but there is no way we can fulfill them. We admit all is lost. “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)

Jesus is not anti-law. Jesus said: “I came not to abolish the law, but to fulfill it.” We cannot evade or ignore God’s standards.  Instead of expecting righteousness through one’s own efforts (nice legalists), we can instead accept righteousness as a gift of God.

Jesus shouts from the cross, “It is finished.”  What we could never lift on our own, Jesus on the cross lifted for us.

Reflecting back on Good Friday which we celebrate next week, Peter wrote: “Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring you to God.”  

Question:  Have you ever been a Christian legalist?  How did you come to discover and take the third option?  Share a comment below.

Want to Hear More?

Subscribe and receive all my posts about the intersections of faith and life. You'll also receive my regular newsletter. 

Join Now!

You have Successfully Subscribed!