This article is a summary from the following episode: 2025 Law & Gospel Conference
When the Law Is All You Know
When we talk about the Christian life, we have to be clear—crystal clear—about two things: what God requires of us and what God provides for us. If we confuse those, if we blur the line between law and gospel, we end up in a place of confusion, fear, and exhaustion. Most of us have lived that. Some of us for decades.
This weekend, a few of us sat down for a live conversation, not to give a theological lecture, but to share our own stories—where we came from, how misunderstanding law and gospel wrecked us, and how the Lord rescued us by his grace.
Some of us grew up in churches where we were saturated with Bible knowledge but never heard the gospel applied personally. Jesus was taught, but not as the Savior who actually did it all for me. So we lived in fear. Doubt. The constant anxiety of wondering if we'd done enough, repented enough, meant it enough. It was revival after revival, rededication after rededication. We were taught—explicitly or implicitly—that true preaching left you uncertain whether you were even saved. That's what good preaching was supposed to do.
Others of us grew up in more liberal environments where doctrine was minimized and Christianity was just about "being a good person." But that left us swinging between hypocrisy and despair. We could see that moralism wasn't producing anything genuine, but we didn’t know what the alternative was. We trusted Christ as best we could, but still lived under a cloud of suspicion about God’s love. Constantly wondering, “Is he really for me?”
How Confusing Law and Gospel Devastates Us
And for many of us, even once we found "better theology," it wasn't always better news. Because what often gets called "gospel" today is actually just another version of law. We heard, "Yes, you're saved by grace, but now you must sincerely obey to stay assured." In other words, your confidence isn’t in Christ alone—it’s in how well you're following him. And that, friends, will wreck you too.
We need to understand this: the law and the gospel are not enemies, but they are different. The law tells us what God demands—perfect righteousness. The gospel tells us what God has graciously provided—Jesus Christ, who is our righteousness. When we collapse those two, we end up with what some of us have called “the gospel of sincere obedience.” And that’s not good news. That’s just a softer form of law.
What the Law Requires, What the Gospel Provides
The breakthrough came when we learned to distinguish between the law and the gospel. The law is what God requires: perfect love for him and neighbor. The gospel is what God provides: Jesus Christ, who fulfilled the law for us, died for all our lawlessness, and now gives us his righteousness as a gift.
The law says, "Do this and live." The gospel says, "It is finished. Trust in Christ and live."
The law is good. It shows us the character of God and what true love looks like. But it cannot save. It can only accuse. Only the gospel saves. Only Jesus saves.
So when someone asks, “What’s the most Christian thing we can do?” the default answer is often a law answer: love God, love neighbor, follow Jesus, surrender all. And while those things are biblical, they’re not the gospel. The most Christian thing we can do is trust in Christ. To fall into his arms, to cast ourselves on his mercy and rest in his finished work. That’s the heart of Christianity.
Why “Follow Jesus” Isn’t the Gospel
Let’s be clear. Following Jesus matters. But that’s the fruit of the gospel, not the gospel itself. Following Jesus doesn’t make us Christians. Trusting Jesus does. We often confuse discipleship language with gospel language, and that creates a subtle shift from “Christ for us” to “me for Christ.”
Even passages like “pick up your cross” or “surrender all” are often preached as if they’re the gospel. But Jesus isn’t calling us to save ourselves by dying well. He’s calling us to trust that he died for us. He picked up his cross so that we, though weak and failing, might live. His death is our death. His resurrection is our life.
Deconstruction and Reconstruction
We’ve also walked through seasons of deconstruction. When you realize that much of what you’ve believed about Christianity was actually moralism, pietism, or revivalism, it can be disorienting. And for a time, we can become more defined by what we’re against than what we’re for. That’s understandable—but we can’t stay there.
We don’t want to just tear down. We want to build up. Not in ourselves, but in Christ. We want to point people to the rock that is higher than we are. The goal isn’t to just destroy bad teaching. It’s to free weary sinners so they can finally rest in Jesus.
We’re not just trying to remove the rubble. We’re laying bricks on the only true foundation—Christ crucified and risen for sinners.
The Life of Faith, Not Sight
Living by faith is hard. Because faith lives in tension. We don’t see what we believe. We still sin. We still struggle. We still feel the weight of shame. But we walk not by sight, but by faith in the Son of God who loved us and gave himself for us.
Faith doesn’t mean we never doubt or never fall. Faith means we keep coming back to Christ, again and again, empty-handed and open-hearted, trusting that he is faithful—even when we’re not.
And this life of faith is not lived in isolation. We need each other. We need the church. We need to hear the gospel again and again—not because we forget the facts, but because we forget the comfort. We forget the rest. We forget the peace.
Rest in the Rock That Is Christ
Brothers and sisters, let’s not define our Christianity by what we’re avoiding. Let’s define it by who we’re clinging to. Christ is our life. Christ is our peace. Christ is our hope.
The law will always show us what God requires—and we should listen. But only the gospel shows us what God has provided. And that is the only message that saves.
In Christ, we are secure. We are loved. We are home.
