In Psalm 19, David sings these words:

            The law of the LORD is perfect,
                        reviving the soul;
            the testimony of the LORD is sure,
                        making wise the simple;
            the precepts of the LORD are right,
                        rejoicing the heart;
            the commandment of the LORD is pure,
                        enlightening the eyes;
            the fear of the LORD is clean,
                        enduring forever;
            the rules of the LORD are true,
                        and righteous altogether.
            More to be desired are they than gold,
                        even much fine gold;
            sweeter also than honey
                        and drippings of the honeycomb.
            Moreover, by them is your servant warned;
                        in keeping them there is great reward.

David appears to have a much higher view of God’s law than the Apostle Paul has been showing throughout Galatians. However, as our text this morning clarifies, Paul does not hate the law but only the abuse and misuse of the law. God’s law is a tool. As long as it is used properly, it is beneficial, but if used incorrectly, it can become deadly.

BECAUSE OF TRANSGRESSION // VERSES 19-20

So far in his letter to the Galatians, Paul appears to have a rather negative view of God’s law. He has repeatedly set it against faith in Christ. He emphasized the curse that it brings upon each of us. Most recently, he contrasted it against God’s promise to Abraham. The apostle must have surely been aware of how all of this sounds, so he dives straight into the question that we, his readers, should be asking ourselves: Why then the law? Why did God give the law at all? If He already made His promise to Abraham and if He always intended to send Christ, then what was the point of Sinai? Were all of those months that we spent studying Exodus just as huge waste of time?

Here is Paul’s answer: It was added because of transgressions, until the offspring should come to whom the promise had been made, and it was put in place through angels by an intermediary.

F. F. Bruce notes that “When Paul says that the law ‘was added’ (προσετέθη), he does not mean that it was added to the promise as a kind of supplement to it; he means that it was added to the human situation for a special purpose–a purpose totally different from that of the promise.”

There is at least a twofold purpose for the law being given because of transgression. At the most basic level, that is the reason that almost every law is enacted. We have speed limits because driving recklessly fast is an all-too-common tendency. We have child labor laws because children used to be used as cheap factory works. And we can quite literally think of thousands of other examples. The same applies to household, school, and office rules. Why do lunches in the breakroom now have to be labeled? Because someone’s lunch got eaten. Why does a parent have to say, “No screaming in the house”? Because someone was screaming in the house. That is the nature of laws. They are given for the purpose of curbing destructive or disruptive behavior. Indeed, if there was no transgression, there would be no need for laws.

But God’s law serves another function in regard to our sins: it further reveals them. More than hindering our sinful desires, God’s law displays their true depths. R. C. Sproul notes:

We study, read, recite, and memorize the Ten Commandments, not because we believe that if we keep the Ten Commandments we’re going to be saved but to help us remember that the just shall live by faith. Every time I look at the law, I look in the mirror and I don’t like what I see. The law reveals not only the perfect character of God but also the imperfect character of Sproul. I can’t miss the contrast. I can’t deceive myself into thinking that I can work my way into heaven. I will never be able to do that. (71-72)

But notice that the law was given because of transgressions, until the offspring should come to whom the promise had been made… The offspring is, of course, Christ (v. 16). Here Paul is introducing an idea that he will explore in verses 23-26: the law served a particular function over God’s people in preparation for the coming of Christ. But we will explore that idea more fully in those verses.

Finally, in verse 19, Paul notes that the law was put in place through angels by an intermediary. Having recently studied the original giving of the law in Exodus, we may rightly remember no angels being mentioned. Indeed, the only suggestion of angels’ involvement at Sinai within the Pentateuch is found in Deuteronomy 33:2, which says, “The LORD came from Sinai and dawned from Seir upon us; he shone forth from Mount Paran; he came from the ten thousands of holy ones, with flaming fire at his right hand.” However, it should go without saying that their exclusion from the text of Exodus is not proof that they were not actually present, which the rest of Scripture seems to indicate. As glorious as angels are, their glory is only a pale reflection of God’s glory (as the author of Hebrews argues). Thus, Paul is noting that the glory of God’s law through Sinai was a mediated glory, both through angels and through Moses, the mediator. That is why he says in verse 20: Now an intermediary implies more than one, but God is one.

As gracious as the giving of the law at Sinai was, it involve multiple parties, and even then the Israelites could not bear the sight. yet regarding God’s promise to Abraham, the patriarch was simply the recipient of the promise. God alone passed through the split animals, and He did so Himself, not through an angel. David DeSilva expresses the thought here succinctly:

A mediator, by definition, does not represent or stand associated alongside only one party, but multiple parties. The Torah is a mediated treaty, whereas the promise is the absolute declaration of the One God, dependent on one party alone. The involvement of a mediator at all means that God is operating at a greater distance in giving the Torah than previously in giving the promises to Abraham, with the result that the latter is the more reliable. (71)

THE LAW AS A GUARDIAN // VERSES 21-26

Next, Paul raises another question that must be on his readers’ minds. Is the law then contrary to the promises of God? Given the stark portrait of the law that the apostle has been painting, we might expect him to answer in the affirmative, yet he does the exact opposite. He strongly denies the very idea.

The phrase μὴ γένοιτο is often translated as “certainly not,” “by no means,” or as the KJV put it “God forbid.” While the New Testament simply adopted the Hebrew word “amen” (meaning “let it be”) into Greek, the Septuagint used an equivalent Greek word: γένοιτο. Thus, Paul is literally saying, “Let it never be!” or “Not amen!” It might be helpful to think of Paul saying, in effect, “anti-amen!”

For if a law had been given that could give life, then righteousness would indeed be by the law. Here Paul is affirming the goodness of God’s law. If it were able to impart life, then we could certainly be justified before God through the law. The problem is that the law is not able to give life. It wasn’t designed to do that. Todd Wilson quotes Spurgeon as saying, “A handsaw is a good thing, but not to shave with.” We can say the same about God’s law. It is a very good thing, but not for justification. The law reveals our sin, but it cannot save us from our sin. But it wasn’t given for that purpose in the first place.

It should be noted that Paul’s claim runs directly against contemporary Jewish views concerning the Torah (e.g., m.’ Abot 6.7: “Great is the Torah, for it gives life to those who practice it both in this world and in the world to come”). 

Here instead is how God used the law: But the Scripture imprisoned everything under sin, so that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe. This is very similar to Paul’s statement in Romans 11:32, where Paul says, “For God has consigned all to disobedience, that he may have mercy on all.” The word ‘consigned’ is the same word used in our text as ‘imprisoned.’ Of course, Paul is not blaming God for all disobedience. Anti-amen! Instead, God providentially orchestrates all sin in order to magnify His mercy. In this verse, however, Paul is essentially saying that “the written law is the official who locks the law-breaker up in the prison-house of which sin is the jailor.” But unlike Romans 11:32, Paul is not merely speaking about all people but all things. We and all of creation have been imprisoned. But we were imprisoned for a purpose: so that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe. The effect seems as Bruce describes:

Those who come to their senses in the prison-house and recognize the hopelessness of their predicament will be the readier to embrace the promise of liberty and life: the law thus serves the interests of the promise–and of the beneficiaries of the promise.

In verse 23, Paul aims to further explain this thought: Now before faith came, we were held captive under the law, imprisoned until the coming faith would be revealed. While this sounds entirely negative, that is probably not Paul’s intention. Ryken suggests that we view this captivity under the law as a form of protective custody. He says:

It should be noted that although nobody likes to be in a prisoner, it is not always a bad thing to be in prison. A good example comes from the life of the apostle himself. Many years after he wrote Galatians, Paul was arrested in Jerusalem and placed in a Roman garrison. While he was imprisoned, a group of enemies conspired not to eat or drink until Paul was assassinated (acts 23:12). When this nefarious plot was uncovered, the Roman commander called out a detachment of 200 soldiers, 70 horsemen, and 200 spearmen to escort Paul to Caesarea. The apostle was still a prisoner, of course, but his captors actually saved his life. By place a guard around him, they were eventually able to deliver him safely to Rome. (138)

That is somewhat how the law functioned over Israel until the coming of Christ. Indeed, in verse 24, Paul goes one step further and calls the law our guardian: So then, the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith. ‘Guardian’ is probably the best way to translate the term that Paul is using, but since it is culturally loaded, further explanation is required. Paul calls the law a pedagogue, which was a servant who was given charge over a particular child. In wealthy homes, the father would place his son under a pedagogue who was responsible for caring and disciplining the children. He would ensure that the child was taken to his tutor for schooling, which leads Ryken to comment that “the pedagogue was not the educator; he was the disciplinarian” (139). Given the Greek idea of education as enculturation (παιδεία), I would say instead that the pedagogue was not the schoolteacher, but he was the child’s primary educator and disciplinarian. As Bruce notes:

It was his duty to teach the boy good manners (with the use of the birch, if necessary), take him to school (carrying his satchel and other effects), wait for him there, in the waiting room or in the παιδαγωγει̃ον, a place reserved specifically for παιδαγωγοί, or even in the classroom itself, then take him home and test his memory by making him recite the lesson he had learned. During the boy’s minority the παιδαγωγός imposed a necessary restraint on his liberty until, with his coming of age, he could be trusted to use his liberty responsibly.

This was the great function that the law served for Israel. It was their pedagogue, their guardian and disciplinarian, until the maturation of their faith came in the person of Jesus Christ. It exposed and rebuked their sins and taught them the holy nature of God. Indeed, just as the presence of the pedagogue was a constant reminder that a boy had not yet become a man, so too did God’s law remind God’s people of their utter inability to be justified through their own good words. It proved that Abraham’s children could only be made righteous in the same way that Abraham was: by faith.

But now that faith has come, we are no longer under the guardian, for in Christ Jesu you are all sons of God, through faith. Christianity is the maturation of Judaism. Christ’s coming ended the time of the guardian. John Chrysostom captures Paul’s point well:

Now if the law was a custodian and we were confined under its direction, it was not opposed to grace but cooperated with it. But if it continues to bind us after grace has come, then it is opposed to grace…Those who maintain their custody at this point are the ones who bring their child into the greatest disrepute. The custodian makes the child ridiculous when he keeps him close at hand even after the time has come for his departure. (50)

For better or for worse, adulthood means that the child is no longer under his pedagogue. As restricting as a child’s captivity might be under his or her guardian, it is for their own good. Once adulthood is reached, life becomes the disciplinarian, and it is far less loving than the pedagogue. Of course, the slave who served as the child’s pedagogue does not cease to exist after the child grows. No, once the child reaches maturity, he becomes the owner of the slave. He now has authority over the slave who once had authority over him. Now let us not take this analogy further than it is able to go, for we do not in any way have authority over God’s law. However, in a similar way, the law does not simply disappear or become unimportant once we are united to Christ by faith, but we are no longer under its jurisdiction as we once were. We are no longer under the law as our disciplinarian, for Christ has fulfilled all the law on our behalf and taken its curse for us.

But does this mean that we are now free to live however we want? Because we are under grace, are we now free to sin without consequence? Anti-amen! The law is no longer hanging in judgement over our hearts but written upon our hearts. Indeed, as Paul will show in the final section of this very letter, we are liberated from the law because we have the Spirit living within us who produces the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Since the law exists because of transgression, the fruit of the Spirit has no need of the law. Indeed, it would be foolish to attempt to regulate patience or kindness. That is why the Christian is no longer under the law. We shouldn’t need the threat of punishment; we should want to be follow the will of God as revealed in His law because the Spirit has given us new hearts.

Notice Paul’s directional shift in verse 26. In verses 23-25, he was speaking of the collective ‘we,’ but now he places the application squarely upon the Galatians, speaking to them directly: ‘you.’ Furthermore, given the trajectory of his argument, we should expect Paul to say this: “for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of Abraham, through faith.” That is, of course, true, as Paul will note in verse 29. Yet he goes far beyond the privilege of being a child of Abraham and says that we are children of God Himself. We now belong to the household of God Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. In life, there is hardly any privilege that has a greater effect on a child than the presence of a loving and attentive father. If that is true physically, how wondrous is the beauty of God Himself being our Father?

But notice that we are sons and daughters of God only through faith in Jesus Christ. As the Creator, God is certainly fatherly toward all His creation, which we can see in His common grace in giving rain to both the just and the unjust. However, God is Father only to those who are in Christ, His only begotten Son. Since Christ alone is the God-man who redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, He alone reconciles us to God and even secures our adoption in Him. We still hold firm to the words of Peter: “And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12).

Brothers and sisters, as we come to our Lord’s Table, let us indeed confess that our Jesus is the only Savior and that “those who in true faith accept this savior have in him all they need for their salvation” (Heidelberg Catechism, Q30). Although the God’s law is good, it only reveals how deeply we need Christ as our Savior. May our free receiving of this bread and cup be a picture of how we have freely received Christ through faith.