The Law, the Lord, and the Light It Casts
In a moment of overwhelming clarity, Peter fell at Jesus’ knees and cried, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Luke 5:8). Long before him, the prophet Isaiah had uttered a similar confession: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips... for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” (Isaiah 6:5). These two men—one a seasoned prophet, the other a working fisherman—were united by one shared experience: the unveiled presence of God. What’s striking is not just their remorse, but the weight of holiness that produced it. As John 12:41 makes clear, both men stood before the same Person: the Christ. And both responded not with self-justification but self-abandonment. As our last year’s Mid Year Conference (MYC)preacher, Musa Ntinga said, “An encounter with God exposes our sinfulness.” But so does the law.
The Law as Mirror
God’s law does more than outline divine expectations—it reveals the nature of the One who gave it. It is a mirror, showing us not just our actions but our hearts. And in that mirror, we do not see God reflected, but our desperate need for Him. “As the holiness of the scripture demonstrates the divinity of its Author, so the holiness of the law doth the purity of the Lawgiver.” The moral perfection of God is embedded in every commandment. This is precisely why our response to the law is so often resistance. However we first encountered it—through conscience, correction, or command—we have each, in our own way, pushed back against its goodness. And this resistance reveals a painful truth: we do not want to be like God, at least not in His holiness. Instead, we prefer a warped version of godhood. The ancient serpent’s temptation, “You shall be like God,” appealed not to a desire for righteousness, but for autonomy. We crave divine authority, not divine character. We plant our flags in borrowed soil, crown ourselves with counterfeit sovereignty, and seek to rule what was never ours. Yet when the law confronts us, we see the truth. We have not become like God—we have become like Satan. Sadly, our hearts mirror the deceiver, not the Creator.
The Law as Light
One thing that the light does and does best, is to expose darkness. Romans 7:12 says, “The law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.” Why? Because it reflects the holy and righteous and good character of its Giver. If perfect obedience were possible, it would confirm us as righteous. But Jesus reminds us, “No one is good except God alone” (Mark 10:18).Holiness, not merely goodness, defines who God is. The Ten Commandments are not arbitrary rules but revelations of God’s nature. The first commandment—“You shall have no other gods before me”—is not just a restriction; it is a reflection of God’s unrivaled worth. Imagine if God had commanded the opposite: “You shall have other gods before me.” Such a decree would not only be idolatrous but blasphemous. The golden calf in Exodus would then have been obedience, not rebellion. But God cannot contradict Himself. To endorse idolatry would be to suggest that something made—by hand or thought—could rival the One who was never made. It would be to declare that the lie is true, that false gods can save, sanctify, or satisfy. Only a devil would say such things.
The Law as Revelation of God's Character
The second half of the Decalogue further unveils God’s nature. Commands against murder, adultery, theft, deceit, and covetousness are not just moral boundaries—they are reflections of who God is. He does not commit these sins, not because He is constrained, but because they are utterly foreign to His being. God is love (1 John 4:8), but more precisely, God is holy love. Without holiness, love becomes sentimentality—conditional, self-serving, and easily manipulated. Holiness grounds love in truth and dignity. It refuses to dishonor others because it cannot dishonor God. Imagine if God had reversed these commands: “You shall murder, steal, commit adultery, lie, and covet.” Such a God would not be worthy of worship. He would be a tyrant, a destroyer—a satanic figure cloaked in divinity. Earth would cease to be a fallen version of heaven and become a full realization of hell.
Thankfully, the true God never commands us away from Himself. “Can He ever abrogate the command of love to Himself without showing some contempt of His own excellence and very being?” the Puritan Stephen Charnock once asked. No—God must command love for Himself because He alone is supremely worthy of it.
The Law, the Lie, and the Light
And so we come back to the question: who do we imagine God to be when we ignore His holiness?
When we strip God of His moral purity, we create a more palatable deity—one we can mold and manage. A god who affirms our instincts rather than confronts them. But this is not the God of Scripture. The real God—the holy God—exposes us. As 1 John 2:16 teaches, the world is shaped by pride, lust, and selfish ambition—all of which the law condemns. So when the law speaks, our fallen nature resists. But it is that very resistance which proves our need. Whether prophet or fisherman, preacher or skeptic, all must respond to the law’s light. The closer we come to God, the more clearly we see what we are not. The law doesn’t just accuse us; it introduces us to the One we have offended—and the One who alone can make us clean.
As Peter fell at Jesus’ knees and Isaiah cried out in fear, so too must we fall before the Holy One. The law magnifies our darkness because its Giver is pure light. It reveals our impurities because its Author is perfectly pure.
And yet, it is in that exposure that grace begins.
