Reversing Slavery

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen.

We don’t typically hear that reading from Deuteronomy. It’s not in the lectionary, believe it or not, but it applies to our lives daily. It’s in almost every sermon I preach: those who do not do the law are cursed. They are cursed to slavery—the slavery of sin—and therefore cursed to death. Every curse pronounced in the assembly of Israel required the people to respond, “Amen,” meaning, “Yes, yes, let it be so.” They were saying, “If we do not live a holy life, cursed be us.”

Would you stand up and agree to that? Would you agree that if you don’t live a perfect life, the curse of God should fall upon you? That the hardships of this life should be doubled, tripled, quadrupled upon your head? That your days should be short and miserable? I don’t think any of us would agree to that. And yet there Israel stood, as a people, saying exactly that. This was Moses’ final sermon in Deuteronomy before he was gathered to the Lord.

The curse of the law is terrible because you’re never good enough. You can never do enough. We can do the outward works of the law fairly well—what we call the natural law, the law written on our hearts. This is the law as a curb: “You shall not murder, commit adultery, steal.” Most of us can say, “We’ve done that. We’re not axe murderers. We’re not robbing banks.”

But when the law becomes a mirror, we realize how guilty we truly are. It strikes us to our core. And yet somehow we still think we can do it. We think we can run on that treadmill until it breaks down. We think we can appease God with our own actions, thoughts, and words. I don’t know how we can look in the mirror, see how far gone we are, and still say, “But I can make it right.”

It’s like losing everything at the casino and saying, “But this nickel—I’m going to win it all back, honey. Trust me.” Only the games are rigged. You’re going to lose that nickel.

The curse of the law leads either to self‑righteousness or to despair. Those are the only two places it goes: “Look how good I am—just ignore the bad things,” or “There is no hope for me.”

This is why Paul writes to the Galatians, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, “Why are you trying to go back to what it was before? Before you learned about Jesus Christ?” Because the curse of the law does not fall on our heads—it falls on His. “Cursed be everyone who hangs on a tree.” That’s why Jesus had to be buried that night—not only because it was Passover, but because the law required that anyone who died hanging on a tree be buried the same day, or else the curse would fall on the whole people.

God lets the curse He pronounced fall upon Jesus’ head. He becomes guilty for every sin of humanity—every murder, every theft, every evil. And for the joy set before Him, He does this. The joy of what? Redeeming creation. Bringing you out from under the curse of the law.

So now, when I ask the kids, “How do you show God you love Him?” the answer is the third use of the law: the law as a guide. This is the way to God’s heart. You know the saying, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Well, the way to God’s heart is the Ten Commandments—the commandments you begin to fulfill through faith in Jesus Christ. They no longer proclaim your doom; that doom has been placed upon Christ.

So we live as people no longer under the curse of the law, but as people who do the law. And that’s an interesting concept to talk about with Christians, because the world keeps wanting to go back under the law. And if not that, then the world says, “Well, no law applies—let’s do whatever we want.” But no—the curse of the law no longer applies to you, yet the blessing of fulfilling the law does, because you have received Christ’s righteousness. You have received the grace of a loving God. You are no longer servants or slaves, but sons and daughters of the Most High.

You’ve been brought into the Father’s house, and He has prepared a room for you—not servants’ quarters, but the room of His beloved child. The curse of slavery to the law and slavery to sin is no more. Not that we sin so that grace may abound, but that we lead holy and chaste lives as those who love God above all things.

And if you don’t do that perfectly—welcome to the condition of being both sinner and saint. I’m in that same place. Luther described it as a drunk peasant falling into the ditch on either side of the road. Another Reformation father said it’s a drunk peasant falling off either side of the horse. Take whichever picture you like. Staying in the middle is hard.

We are saved by grace through faith—not by doing the law, but because Christ did the law. Through faith we cling to the forgiveness He gives, and we receive His righteousness so that all nations are blessed in Him.

This is hard to preach and hard to teach, because people will hear, “I’m free from the law, so I must go live a perfect life again,” or, “I’m free from the law, so I can do whatever I want.” The answer is no. It is the third use of the law: How should I live my life as one who is forgiven? How should I live as one no longer under the curse? What does it look like to live as one who loves God?

It looks different for every person because you all have different vocations. Some are husbands, others wives. Some are grandparents, others children. Some are retired, some self‑employed, some work for employers. We take the Ten Commandments and apply them to the various vocations of life: “This is how I honor God. This is how I keep His name holy. This is how I remember the Sabbath. This is how I honor authority. This is how I refrain from murder, theft, and so on.” All ten.

We live as people forgiven by God.

I’ll admit, this sermon made me the most nervous, because the theme is the curse of the law—but I can’t say “reversing the law,” because Christ came to fulfill the law. So I’m nervous you might have heard something I didn’t say. Please let me know as you leave today what you heard.

As we approach the cross, we face the penalty that should have been upon us, but has been replaced by the grace of God.

In Christ’s name. Amen.