I recently taught our confirmation students a series of lessons on the difference between the Law and the Gospel. We studied the first and second use of the Law, and then our understanding of the Gospel. We brought in guest speakers, looked at these distinctions being made in films, and looked at stories in the Bible. This all started because the students asked, “What does it mean to be Lutheran?” Besides lutefisk, lefse, and coffee, I said it means that we look at Scripture, our lives and world through the lenses of Law and Gospel. So much of Christianity muddies these waters. The gospel is often presented as law, and the law is often presented as gospel.

 

So what is the difference between Law and Gospel? Simply put, the Law is that which we are to do for God and one another, and the Gospel is that which God has done for us through His Son, Jesus Christ. However, the Law functions in two ways: it is something which we are to do, but it is also something that happens to us – it informs us, and it kills us – ultimately, the Law drives us to the Gospel.

 

The first use of the Law is called the Civil Use – it is for the sake of civilization. It informs us of how to live, what to do and what not to do. It refers to everything from the 10 Commandments, to the Golden Rule, to traffic laws, to your mom or dad telling you to clean your room, wash your hands, or do your homework; or even something that sounds like Gospel: “Love Thy Neighbor!” Even in language of love, it’s the first use of the Law when it has to do with us performing, acting, achieving, or doing something.

 

Sometimes the Gospel is presented as Law: “You have to believe in order to be saved.” Faith then becomes a work we’re called upon to accomplish, rather than a gracious gift bestowed by the Holy Spirit when the “good news” (gospel literally means good news) of the forgiveness of sins and salvation through the saving acts of Christ is proclaimed or declared to someone. Instead of faith becoming the natural response to the Gospel, it becomes a burden one must somehow achieve or accomplish when it’s presented as an ultimatum: “You have to believe in order to be saved.” Like the language of lovers – when someone says, “I love you!” you don’t respond with the same words because you have to in order for that person’s declaration to be true, but because that’s the natural response that’s elicited out of you (if it’s true). Whenever we have to do something, it’s the first use of the Law. Whether it’s loving someone, believing in something, or doing the dishes, if we are being called upon to perform and accomplish something, it’s the first use of the Law. While the first use of the Law is good and necessary for civilization, it doesn’t save.

 

The second use of the Law is called the Spiritual Use of the Law, because it convicts us of our sin, reveals to us that we are sinners, and drives us to our knees in despair. In this way, Martin Luther said, the Law kills. When Peter denied Jesus three times and the cock crowed, Peter fell to his knees and wept – that was the second use of the Law. When the prophet Nathan came to King David – after he had an affair with Bathsheba, and had her husband, Uriah, sent to the front lines to be killed in battle – to confront him about his sin, Nathan told David a fictitious story of a man who stole his neighbor’s beloved lamb. David, in righteous indignation, declared that man deserves to die! Nathan said four little words that functioned as the second use of the Law: “You are the man!” A blinding light and Jesus’ voice functioned as the second use of the Law for Saul/Paul on the road to Damascus: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

 

I invited a few guest speakers from our congregation to come to our confirmation classes to speak on the differences of the Law and the Gospel. Our first guest speaker was a Deputy Sheriff who spoke on the necessity of having laws, rules, and regulations. Our second speaker was a recovering alcoholic who talked about the second use of the Law and “bottoming out.” Our third speaker was a Vietnam Veteran who spoke on the second use of the Law and the Gospel. He told of his experiences in war that continue to haunt him to this day. He spoke of how every January and February he struggles with depression because it reminds him of horrific things that took place at that time decades ago. He divulged how every time he hears a helicopter it’s like Peter hearing that cock crow; for him, it’s the second use of the Law that triggers a flood of night mares and reminders of all the things he’s done so awful in his past – it convicts, haunts, and kills him. He also spoke on how the Gospel is his only salvation. If it weren’t for the forgiveness of sins, the promise of new life, and the redemption and salvation for sinners in Jesus Christ, he would not be able to go on another day.

 

The Gospel is what makes possible for us sinners the possibility of living a new day. When the Law has done it’s job of convicting and killing us, the Gospel raises us up.

How can we know God is loving toward us, when our sin is ever before our eyes? Only through the revelation of God’s grace and mercy for sinners through His Son, Jesus Christ, can we know for sure – we cling to the Gospel. As Martin Luther tells us, the Law may inform us on how to live, but it does not give life, nor make it possible for us to perform its requirements. In the end, the Law kills. It is the Gospel that gives life. The first use of the Law, our good works, will not suffice, for at some point, no matter how good of a person we are, that cock will crow, or we’ll hear the sound of a helicopter, or someone will point the finger and say, “where were you when I was sick, or in prison, naked, or hungry?” and we’ll be brought to our knees in despair – rightly convicted and condemned.

 

“Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Rom. 7:24-25)

 

For the sake of our civilization, the Law is necessary. For the sake of our salvation, the Gospel is necessary. Making these distinctions is crucially important for life, and for faith.