In Christ “Must” Has Become “Can”

It was a question I had been mulling over for weeks, ever since we started preaching through the Sermon on the Mount. I hadn’t brought it up in my sermons because it would have taken us down a rabbit trail and perplexed my audience as well. Then, a man approached me after my last sermon with the same question.

So now I must lay my cards on the table.

When Jesus uttered His now-famous formula— “you have heard… but I say to you…”—He was laying out a bold new vision for what it means to keep not just the letter of the Law but also the spirit of the Law. And that vision was uncompromising. If His followers wanted to have a place in the Kingdom, He announced, their righteousness must be greater than that of the experts in interpreting and keeping the Law—the scribes and the Pharisees. That was tantamount to saying that no one can possibly qualify.

To make things worse, He doubled down on that requirement by explaining what this superior righteousness looks like in ordinary life: malice is murder, lust is adultery, we must turn the other cheek to those who insult us and love our enemies, we must be perfect just as our Father in heaven is perfect. For all who understood His message, this was a discouraging and deflating moment!

Jesus was pointing out the main role of the Law: it magnifies our sin and rebellion. What we already know implicitly in our conscience – that we have fallen far short – is now made baldly and inescapably obvious by the Law.

But our preaching hasn’t landed there.

Each of our preachers has pointed out that, unlike Jesus’ audience that day, we are living on the other side of the Death and Resurrection of Christ; we are living in the age of the indwelling Spirit. This means that what the Law has told us to do is now made possible for all who trust in Christ and therefore have the Spirit working in them. In Christ, “must” had become “can.”

As Jesus explains it, the Law tells us to love God with all our being and care for one another as vigorously as we care for ourselves. We nod in agreement with these demands of Law because we know that such a life of love is supremely good and right; but then we look into our sinful, rebellious hearts and know we cannot love God or our neighbor that way. We find ourselves unable to refrain from malice or lust, unable to respond to insult with generosity, and unable to love our enemies. It’s just not in us to live that way.

The Good News is that Jesus died and rose for us to redeem us not just from the penalty of sin but also from the power of sin. The better news is that He sent the Spirit to begin His slow, patient work of changing our character. He is slowly transforming us from the inside out, disentangling our hearts from the warping effects of sin, making us more like the Son. The best news is that He is committed to completing that project; He will carry on that work to its completion.

So, when we read Jesus’ impossible demands, we can simultaneously grieve that such adherence to the Law is far beyond us but also rejoice that the Spirit is at work renovating our hearts for just that kind of life. Sure, our spiritual progress is herky-jerky, three steps forward and two steps back. Sure, we get discouraged and sometimes even wonder if we are part of that Kingdom Jesus announced.

But because He died and rose, because He sent His Spirit to live in His people, we can see the Sermon on the Mount as Jesus’ description of the kind of men and women He is making of us.

And that is very Good News.

Persevere.