III. That the imputed righteousness of Christ is of itself perfect and
sufficient.
I. All justifying righteousness must be perfect; for justification is a
legal act, and justifying righteousness is that which satisfies the law.
The law, or will of God, lays down a certain rule of life and conduct, as
the law of a country lays down certain regulations for the citizen. As
the sovereign for his subjects, so God appoints his law for man. Now if
the law be satisfied by man, then man is justified by the law. The law
lays nothing to his charge; he is really free, and he is accounted free;
he is fully and completely justified by his perfect fulfilment of the
will of God. Such a character would stand before God in the same
position as we do before the earthly judge. We are justified by our
country’s laws; we enjoy our liberty, and walk through the length and
breadth of our happy land, free as the winds of heaven, in our own right,
and, as far as human law is concerned, our own righteousness. We have
not broken our country’s laws, so we can stand up boldly before our
country’s judge. Now, with reference to our country, or to the law of
man, this innocence is a justifying righteousness. It secures to us a
perfect freedom, it strips the law of all claim either on liberty or
life. If there were a similar obedience to the law of God, that
obedience would be a justifying righteousness before God. If the law
were satisfied, the creature would be justified; the satisfied law would
itself declare him free. The law would be disarmed of all power of
threat, curse, or punishment; the righteous man would stand boldly before
the judgment, and say, “I have fulfilled the law, and I now demand the
crown.”
Now there is one thing self-evident respecting this justifying
righteousness; namely this, It must be perfect, or it all falls to the
ground. If one stone be removed from the self-supporting arch, the whole
fabric falls into ruin. One leak is enough to sink the noblest ship in
England’s navy. So by the laws of our country, if there be one breach of
one law, our liberty is lost, our right is gone, our justifying
righteousness is no more. If there be one single act of transgression,
one single violation of one single statute, the law is broken, and the
offender is subject to its punishment. How many a poor culprit has lost
his life for one solitary act! As with the law of England, so it is with
the law of God. The righteousness that can justify must be a perfect
righteousness. If there be one act of disobedience, the offender becomes
a sinner, and must plead for mercy, if he would hope to shun the curse.
His right and righteousness are gone together; he must cease for ever to
urge any claim on glory. St. James states this plainly, {23a} “For
whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is
guilty of all. For he that said, Do not commit adultery, said also, Do
not kill. Now if thou commit no adultery, yet if thou kill, thou art
become a transgressor of the law:” and St. Paul confirms it, when he
quotes the words, {23b} “Cursed is every one that continueth not in _all_
things that are written in the book of the law to do them.” He does not
say _some_ things, or _most_ things, or a _great many_ things, but _all_
things.
And this may point out the distinction between the righteousness which
can justify, and the righteousness which may please. That which can
justify must be perfect, for it must leave the law unbroken before the
judge; that which can please may be defective, for it may be little more
than the first risings of a filial love, than the first efforts to do the
will of a loving Father. The prodigal pleased his father, when he first
turned his thoughts towards his long forsaken home, but none would argue
that he was then justified by his obedience. Mary pleased her Saviour,
when she sat at his feet, and drank in his sacred teaching, but that one
act could not justify her soul before the judgment-seat of God. David
did well that it was in his heart to build the temple, but he could not
appeal to that one secret, unfulfilled intention, as a justifying
righteousness, which could clear his soul, or fulfil the law. To sing
the song of thankful praise pleaseth the Lord “better than a bullock that
hath horns and hoofs,” but though we sang that song throughout eternity,
it would prove nothing before the judgment-seat, it could never
constitute such a righteousness that the judge could say “Well done, you
have fulfilled the law.” {24}
If we bear in mind this distinction, we shall easily establish our second
point, namely,
II. That inherent righteousness can never justify even the regenerate:
and for this one simple reason, that the righteousness of the very best
is altogether imperfect before God.
We all know what a vast change is wrought in a man when he is born again
of the Holy Ghost, a change sometimes compared to a resurrection,
sometimes to a new creation, and always ascribed to the arm of God’s
omnipotent sovereignty. In this change the heart of stone is taken away,
and the heart of flesh is granted; the eagle is transformed into the
dove; the lion becomes the lamb; the wild bramble is changed into the
fruitful vine; the barren waste rejoices and blossoms like the rose. Let
us none lower the character of this vast and most lovely change. It is
more beautiful than that of the chrysalis to the butterfly; more
wonderful than that of the buried corpse to the living man; more
gladdening, than when the vast world sprang out of nothing at the command
of God. There are only two occasions mentioned in the Bible, in which
the company before the throne are described as finding increase to their
already perfect joy; the one was the creation, when “all the sons of God
shouted for joy:”{25a}—the other, the gathering in of the new born
penitent, for “there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth.”
{25b}