SOME persons require a proof that the decalogue is binding on Christians.
They acknowledge that it is still in force towards the Jews. But
assuming that the whole Jewish economy is abrogated with regard to
Christians, they demand evidence from the New Testament that the ten
commandments are a rule of duty to us. Now this is a demand they have no
right to make. It proceeds on an assumption, the correctness of which we
deny. It is therefore, the part of those who maintain that view, to
prove that the moral law has ceased to be in force; not of us, to shew
the contrary.
While, however, we maintain our vantage ground, and contend that nothing
less than a plain declaration in the New Testament to that effect, can or
ought to satisfy us, that the decalogue is annulled, we do not despair of
being able to satisfy any candid mind, by an appeal to the New Testament,
that we are as much bound by the ten commandments as are the Jews, to
whom they were originally given.
No one can say, that there is an express declaration in the New
Testament, to the effect, that the decalogue is set aside under the
present dispensation. Those who arrive at the conclusion, must confess,
that it is merely inferential. In this respect, then, both parties stand
on equal ground. Neither our opponents nor ourselves can adduce an
undoubted and positive declaration. But we ask which have the greatest
need of such a declaration—they who assert that the moral law, written
and pronounced by God himself, has been abrogated, or they who affirm
that it is still in force? On which side lies the greater probability,
and with whom rests the greater responsibility? No very serious harm can
result from the error (if such it be) of maintaining the perpetual
authority of the moral law, but the most disastrous consequences may flow
from the rejection of its claims. And surely it is more likely that God
would continue his own law in force without a direct renewal of it, than
that he would abrogate it without a plain announcement to that effect.
In the absence then of positive evidence, the probability lies on the
side of its retention.
Now, this probability advances a step towards certainty, when it is
remembered, that Judaism is not formally abrogated in the New
Testament—that in fact Christianity is not a new religion, but the
extension and expansion of the moral and spiritual part of the Mosaic
dispensation—believing Jews still remaining on their own stock, and
believing Gentiles being scions grafted into the Jewish olive tree. The
religion of Jesus is in reality the perfection of the religion of Moses.
But where would be its superiority in a moral point of view, if the
authority of the very standard of morality were taken from it? At any
rate, if such were the case, some express intimation to that effect is to
be expected.
This argument is still further strengthened by the fact, that the spirit
and essential requirements of Judaism and Christianity are identical. It
has indeed been asserted that the morality of the Old Testament was one
of legal enactment; whereas that of the New Testament is one of motives
and principles. But our Lord teaches a very different doctrine. He
tells us that love was the essence and sum of all the requirements of the
Old Testament, even as love is the fulfilling of the law under the
present dispensation. {27} Christianity presents a new and powerful
motive for obedience—namely gratitude for the incarnation and death of
the Son of God; but this neither changes the nature of man’s moral
obligation, nor removes the necessity of a positive enactment to guide
him in his obedience, and enforce conformity to God’s will. If then in
spirit and essence the moral requirements of the law and of the gospel
were the same, what reason should there be for setting aside the
decalogue, and what authority have we to ignore it without an express
command from God?
The probability that the moral law remains in force under the present
dispensation, is still further strengthened by the use which is made of
it by the inspired writers of the New Testament. St. Paul indeed speaks
of the law as the “ministry of condemnation,” in opposition to the
gospel, which is the “ministry of righteousness,” or justification—the
one dispensation bearing on its front the justice of God, the other, his
mercy.
He tells us plainly that the law can only condemn, while the gospel alone
has power to justify. He assures us that in this respect—in its
condemning power—it is “done away” to the believer, while the free grace
of the gospel alone “remains.” But when he speaks of the moral
requirements of Christianity, while he tells us that (as in the religion
of Moses) love is the essence and sum of all, he nevertheless sends us to
the commandments of the second table, to learn how love is to be
exhibited, or rather perhaps to shew us, that the moral requirements of
the two dispensations were essentially the same. {28a} What an
extraordinary use to make of the law, if the decalogue be part of “the
weak and beggarly elements” abolished by Christianity. St. John tells us
that to love God is to keep his commandments. But we know not which of
his commandments we are bound to keep, if we reject those which he wrote
with his own finger, and pronounced with his own voice. St. James refers
to the moral law as if recognising its obligation. “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.” {28b} It may be objected, that this reference to the law is
merely for the purpose of illustration. But surely if the violation of
one precept involves the guilt of breaking the whole law, the whole law
must still be in force. For if the enactment has been repealed, there is
no law; and if there is no law, there can be no transgression; and if
there is no transgression, there can be no guilt. How strange, too, is
this appeal to the law by the Apostle Paul, if the law has been annulled:
“Children obey your parents in the Lord; for this is right. Honour thy
father and mother, which is the first commandment with promise; that it
may be well with thee, and that thou mayest live long on the earth.”
{28c} We thus approach very near the establishment of our position, that
there is evidence in the New Testament, that the moral law is still
binding on men.
It may indeed be objected, that in the scriptures quoted or alluded to,
the reference is chiefly, if not exclusively, to the second table of the
decalogue. But we think few will venture to deny, (especially after the
assertion of St. James, that the violation of one precept is the
violation of the whole law) that if the part which regulates our duty to
man is in force, the part which teaches our duty to God must be equally
in force. Besides, if love is the fulfilling of the law, and the love of
God is keeping his commandments, how can we express our love to him, if
we reject that part of the law, which especially guides us in the proper
manner of shewing our love _directly_ to him?
But there is one passage of the New Testament, which, in the absence of a
positive enunciation to the contrary, to our mind, of itself establishes
the permanent authority of the decalogue, and which, when added to what
has already been said, more than completes the proof that has been
demanded of us. We allude to our Lord’s declaration: “Think not that I
am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy but
to fulfil. For verily I say unto you, till heaven and earth pass, one
jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be
fulfilled.” {29a} There can scarcely be a doubt to what the Redeemer
refers when he speaks of “the law and the prophets.” He could not intend
the ceremonial law, because the breaking of its least commands would not
make a man “least in the kingdom of heaven.” Neither was it true that he
did not come to put an end to its observance. It is the moral law, and
those instructions of the prophets which flow from it—it is “the law and
the prophets” as embraced in the precept, “thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thy heart, and thy neighbour as thyself,” which our Lord
evidently meant. The entire discourse to which this declaration forms
the introduction, is of a moral character; and whatever meanings may have
been put upon our Lord’s language, we think any unbiased mind, on reading
the whole discourse, will come to the conclusion, that the moral law was
chiefly and prominently in the Saviour’s mind, when he employed the
language above quoted. {29b} But if one jot or tittle cannot pass away
from the law, how should the entire law be abrogated? We conclude,
therefore, that there is satisfactory evidence in the New Testament, that
the decalogue is still in force in the Christian church—not so indeed
that obedience to it forms the ground of the believer’s justification, or
that want of perfect conformity to its requirements brings him under
condemnation (this was not the case under the Jewish dispensation), but
as the standard of right and wrong, as the infallible regulator of
conscience, as that perfect rule of moral obligation, by seeking
conformity to which we honour our Creator and Redeemer, perform the
duties of this present life, and become fitted for the presence of God
and the inheritance of the saints in light. To the believer the moral
law has always been “the law of liberty,” because, it being “written in
his heart,” he has “delighted in it after the inner man,” and kept its
precepts from a principle of love.
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