iv. 2, 3. “For if Abraham were justified by works, he hath whereof to glory; but not before God. For what saith the scripture? Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him for righteousness.”

Gal. ii. 16. “Knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Jesus Christ, that we might be justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law: for by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified.”

Here we might well leave the subject, but as this was the great battle-field of the Reformation, it may be well to examine rather more carefully into the question. In doing this we will endeavour to show—

I. That all justifying righteousness must be perfect.

II. That inherent righteousness can never justify even the regenerate.

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,