I am seeing some American evangelical Christians using this terminology more and more. It is as if ‘believers’ who belong to one ‘tribe’ are vetting the belief systems in other ‘tribes’. This just seems weird to me, as most tribes I have known about, outside the context of ‘church’, have built up rather exclusive structural societies/communities, with their own language, culture, etc. They are hardly inclusive. But then, out of America, more than any other nation historically, a massive amount of religious Christian denominations and ‘non-denominational’ groups just keeps evolving. Tribal warfare or brotherly love?

‘… And I believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.’ God’s grace is wonderfully universal, is it not? How much more freeing can it get?

Sincerely,
Christ’s Devoted Follower Opposing Paul in Colossae/Galatia

If we seek truth in exchange for grace it becomes legalism and seases to be truth. If we seek grace in exchange for truth, it becomes tolerence (not a good word in this context) and seases to be grace. The royal law is to love our neighbor as ourselves. If only I could stay on target with that legalism. “Who will save me from this body of death?”

This is an important conversation that can’t lands safely in a definitive answer of rules to follow. And so begins the conversation again.

The truth is, to lead healthy, productive lives we need boundaries. We need rules. We need authority, structure, predictability. We need to be able to trust, to know who and what we can count on. We need to know where the lines are, and to know that there are consequences for crossing them.

To “find rest” in that structure is not an addiction to something harmful but a gracious gift of a loving God.

I have seen the word used to indicate a following of rules regardless of one’s motive. It is thus used in the context of trying to eliminate all rules. This is some people’s definition of freedom.

The stakes are high: death or prosperity. You feel so good about yourself when you keep clear of the boundary of the law (as others here have attested) because you are bringing God’s prosperity to your people. And when you stumble, you feel like you’re in the grave, because you are bringing death. But restoration might be on the horizon, and there’s nothing as good as the next high.

God has done his part, and the rest is up to you. It’s no surprise, then, that your inconstancy inevitably leads to a roller-coaster experience.

The real evil comes when people (often the rich ones) master the game: they learn to hide their roller coasters and then sit in judgment of those who can’t hide their sins as well. It helps the masters of the game if the sins that they harp on have obvious external signs. Then the poor and sinners are no longer covenant family but pawns in a game.

Jesus, you’ll note, is not very happy with this state of affairs.

The problem starts when we turn in on ourselves and view the law as our guarantee of divine favor, our way to stay safe. That’s the very kind of magical worldview that the Jews were supposed to reject. We should, instead, trust that God saves — indeed, that he wants to save — and that his law is truly his Torah, his gracious instruction to those he has already claimed and redeemed. Grace is not lawlessness; it is peaceful, trusting rest in God’s promise that the covenant is secure, from which springs our devotion to his mission for the world.

Somebody said this is the message of Romans. More dramatically, the message of Galatians.

And, if I might add, first set down by Jesus in what we call The Sermon On the Mount. “You have heard it said [legalism]…, but I say, [grace]. What more perfect example of man’s setting down rules to follow vs Jesus proclaiming the true heart of the matter.

Beautiful post, Mike! Thank you!!!

When faced with the option of freedom, I know that fear so often sends me running for comfort – to be told what to do, who to be, how to think and feel. It is constantly the fight of my life to detect legalism in myself, muster the courage to name it, and rally the strength to oppose it.

Legalism forcefully stamps a canned identity on a soul – an entity inheretly made to create.

No. It’s frightening that the question is even asked.

Read the post again. It’s not about the desire for obedience (a beautiful thing, according to psalms like Psalm 1). It’s about a yearning — an addiction — to find “rest” in legalism.

Want to identify it?

Look for a serious yearning for more authority (husband, father, church leaders). Listen to the language. Are we looking for bosses? Are we anxious for another human to tell us what we have to do? Is there an unhealthy interest in structure?

Look for a disgust toward broken people.

Look for anxiety, depression, and guilt — a merry-go-round of emotions that never stops.

Look for the alternating fronts of pride and low self-esteem. Look for a lack of joy, compassion, gentleness, and kindness.

Look for self-justifying questions like, “Shouldn’t we care what God says?” Such questions are hiding deep things quite often. The questioner “doth protest too much, methinks.”

It’s not a possession of any one tribe. As I said in the post, the irony is that many people who claim they’re needing more freedom or more experience of the Spirit (or better/higher theology?) are actually going deeper into their addiction. Some of the most grace-talking places are the most legalistic.

Being a legalist isn’t about following rules — we all do that, though some follow ones different to others. Being a legalist is trusting that the rules — whichever rules you follow — will save you.

If you follow every single precept you see before but you know that your salvation is in Christ alone and not in your ability to follow a formula and thereby “achieve” salvation, I wouldn’t really say you’re a legalist.

Mike is addressing all the legalist attitudes we all fall into, whether it’s church 3x/week, non-instrumental, “freedom in worship,” being “edgy” or whatever — all the things people trust in with the hope that these rules, whether they look like rules or not, will save them. I think his point is that we can’t play “spot the legalist” by checking to see who flips out at the mention of a piano.