The truth can be compared to a path on which we walk. This picture is scriptural. “Shew me thy ways, O Lord; teach me thy paths. Lead me in thy truth, and teach me: for thou art the God of my salvation; on thee do I wait all the day” (Ps. 25:4–5).

But how do we view the perils of all the lies that surround us as we walk on that path of truth? The question is important. We need to know what the falsehoods are and where they are in order to avoid them. But the question is not so easily answered. Lies are intended to fool and deceive, after all. They lurk, they divert, they hide, and they divide. We do well to continually examine the landscape around us and take stock of where our feet are treading on the path. The purpose of this article is to do exactly that by reexamining a conception of the lay of the land that is commonly held in Reformed thought: a path that runs between two ditches.

The metaphor is used to explain the situation of the truth of salvation by grace alone as that truth constitutes a path running between two heretical ditches, which, according to the metaphor, are opposites. On one side of the path lies the ditch of legalism and works–righteousness, which teaches that justification is not by faith alone but includes works. On the other side of the path is the ditch of antinomianism, which teaches that the law of God need not be obeyed and need not be obeyed exactly because justification is by faith alone without works. Both ditches are abominable. According to the illustration, the truth has to find its way between the two.

The analogy is long-standing, and numerous examples could be cited. Jerry Bridges uses a picturesque description to explain the idea:

In one southern state, a narrow two-lane highway has been built through a swampland by building up the road bed above the swamp. You must be extra alert not to drift off the road because there is no margin for error. If you go off the road, you do not end up on a grassy shoulder but rather submerged in a swamp.

…the built-up roadbed represents grace that allows you to drive safely through the swampland of legalism and license.

But is this illustration biblical, confessional, and even helpful? Have we taken the accuracy of the metaphor for granted without considering the implications, options, or consequences? Considering these questions may prove to be unexpectedly revealing.

Let us assume that the illustration of the road between two ditches is true and that we are walking on that road. In practical terms, what do we tend to do if we get too close to something that is very dangerous and we want to avoid that thing completely? We would likely run in the opposite direction. Let’s try that.

“There are no works that can be or must be done for our salvation. Salvation is by grace alone.” That is true. We are walking on that road. But in a ditch that lies nearby, to one side of us, we peek over the edge and see that there are just a few works that must nevertheless be performed in order for us to obtain or to enjoy our salvation. Those works are oh so subtly hidden, yet they are there. “You must do justice to the responsibility of man in salvation as well as to God’s power to save. God doesn’t save corpses, you understand. He saves men who are able to work and meet conditions to the saving of their souls and to their own assurance and comfort.” No, that’s not true! That’s the false doctrine of legalism, works-righteousness, and Arminianism. Run! And so we run. We run in the opposite direction from the ditch. But the road—how wide is it? How much room is there for our escape?

We are still on the road and are nearing the other side. “There are no works that can be or must be done for our salvation. Salvation is by grace alone.” That is true. We are still standing on that ground. But just beyond, one more step in the direction we are heading, another ditch lies before us, with another fiendish deception lurking within its mire. “If you don’t need to do any good works in order to be saved, then you never need to do any good works at all. Sin—sin as you please, for that will only magnify the grace of God all the more.” No, run! That’s not true, either! That’s the heretical doctrine of antinomianism. And so we run. We run as far away as we can from that lie too.

But how far is far? The ditch of legalism looms once more in front of our fleeing stride. As we zigzag across the road, feverishly trying to avoid each ditch, we will make little progress in our journey walking down the road. At what point are we traveling straight in the middle of it, safe from both ditches on either side of us? And what is the width of that middle path? In the end must it not be exceedingly narrow, lest we begin to err and lean toward one lie or the other? It becomes a tightrope on which we must balance in order to stay upright between the evil of licentious antinomianism on one side and the lie of self-righteous legalism on the other. It becomes a balancing act for the most skillful of theological acrobats to perform. We must ask, will this road between two ditches help us on our way to understanding, maintaining, and growing in the truths of God’s grace, or are we left in a state of fear, so that we hardly dare to move?

What does scripture teach? “For thy mercy is great unto the heavens, and thy truth unto the clouds” (Ps. 57:10). “Remove from me the way of lying: and grant me thy law graciously” (119:29). “I have seen an end of all perfection: but thy commandment is exceeding broad” (v. 96). As the Old Testament people of God traveled to Zion to worship Jehovah there, they sang a set of songs called the psalms of degrees. Psalm 121 is one of them:

1. I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

2. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

3. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

4. Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

5. The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.

6. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

7. The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.

8. The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.

They sang this on the road as well: “They that trust in the Lord shall be as mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abideth for ever” (125:1). The truth of God is high as the clouds and strong as the mountains and abides of old and forever. “For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations” (100:5). In these texts walking on the path of the truth is not seen as any fearfully executed tiptoed circus feat.

And what of the Reformed creeds? Do they recognize two distinct ditches that must be avoided by finding our way between them? The answer we discover to that question is striking. “Doth not this doctrine [of justification by faith alone] make men careless and profane?” In other words, is there any danger in taking the truths of God’s grace too far? Won’t such strong adherence to Reformed doctrine cause men to despise the law of God and to be antinomians? We know we must avoid the ditch of works-righteousness and Arminianism, but must not we beware of that antinomian ditch on the other side of the road too? Behold the Catechism’s answer: “By no means; for it is impossible that those who are implanted into Christ by a true faith should not bring forth fruits of thankfulness” (Q&A 64, in Confessions and Church Order, 107). Nor is this answer any fluke. Belgic Confession article 24, Canons 1.13, 5.12–13, 5 error and rejection 6, and the conclusion to the Canons all confess the same thing. As far as the Reformed confessions are concerned, carnal security because of believing too much in the truth of grace alone “is impossible.”

The Reformed confessions are concerned with one ditch: works-righteousness. In all the references cited above, the ditch of antinomianism as caused by believing fully in the truths of faith alone and grace alone is denied as a possibility. In fact, when the enemies of grace voice their concerns that the Reformed doctrines of grace and predestination will cause people to run straight into that so-called ditch of careless impiety, their concerns are met with outright disgust:

It clearly appears that some…have violated all truth, equity, and charity, in wishing to persuade the public:

That the doctrine of the Reformed churches concerning predestination, and the points annexed to it, by its own genius and necessary tendency, leads off the minds of men from all piety…which the Reformed churches not only do not acknowledge, but even detest with their whole soul. (Conclusion to the Canons, in Confessions and Church Order, 179)

That charge of antinomianism the delegates at Dordt detested with their whole souls. The charge was false and completely undeserved.

What then do we do with these two errors called legalism and antinomianism? Both are serious, are they not? Both heresies are real, correct?

Let us examine them more closely. They are serious and they are real, but they may not be as opposite on the pendulum as we might think—and that makes all the difference. Belgic Confession article 23 sums up the danger of the lie of works-righteousness: “Verily, if we should appear before God, relying on ourselves or on any other creature, though ever so little, we should, alas! be consumed” (Confessions and Church Order, 52).The ditch could not be more serious. The warning of this article applies to us all, we who are so weak in faith of ourselves. Let us peer into the terrifying darkness of the depths of the pit of self-righteous legalism and Arminianism, of reliance on our works for salvation—reliance on our works though ever so little—and see how abominable this lie really is. By the grace of God, and only by the grace of God, are we delivered from such false religion. “If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand? But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared” (Ps. 130:3–4).

And what is antinomianism? Strictly speaking, it means to be against the law of God. In the context of two ditches on opposite sides of a road, it means to be against the law of God because of the doctrines of grace. Reformed doctrine, believing in too much grace, is to blame. It works this way: I am saved by grace alone without any reliance whatsoever on my obedience to the law of God. Therefore, in order to magnify God’s grace even more, I may sin as I please. I may do this for three reasons. First, I am saved no matter what, so no additional sin on my part is going to change that. Second, I can’t keep the law of God perfectly, so why try? And third, the more I sin, the more God has to save me from my sin, and that means that more grace of God will be utilized and more grace may therefore be extolled. The heresy is pernicious to the core, compounding evil upon evil.

But where lies that ditch of antinomianism? That it is a real lie that must be condemned is not the question. Where the ditch is located is the question. Logically and on the surface of it, it appears to lie across the road of grace alone, opposite the heresy of legalism. Since “legal” refers to law, perhaps calling legalism “law-ism” will be helpful for the moment. It means that the law of God saves in some way, not grace alone. So while one heresy (legalism, or law-ism) pulls back on grace alone and takes away from grace by replacing it with the works of the law, the heresy of antinomianism (or anti-law-ism, if you will) pushes grace alone too far and takes the law of God out of the picture completely.

But the matter is not that simple. There is antinomianism, an awful and real heresy, but there is also the false charge of antinomianism. And the false charge of antinomianism reveals that more is happening in this landscape than meets the eye.

How so? To begin to answer that, let us ask on whose lips the false charge of antinomianism is to be found. The delegates of the Synod of Dordt explain who they are. They are those who “have violated all truth, equity, and charity.” They are the Remonstrants, the Arminian branch of legalism. They are those who attack the doctrines of the Reformation in order to put works into election, justification, sanctification, and all the rest of God’s sole work of salvation. That the synod concludes with its detestation of the charge is indicative of how prevalent the charge was against the delegates and also how significant the charge is. The false charge belongs to legalism. It is not only legalism’s effort to justify itself as it wrongfully puts man’s work into God’s sole work of salvation, but it also serves legalism’s jealousy to persecute those who rightfully walk on the path of grace alone, all the while attempting to stop further progress in understanding the Reformed truths of that grace.

The charge is doctrinally impossible. It is exactly in the confession of the doctrines of faith alone and grace alone that the law of God will be the object of one’s love. In that confession is every reason to strive to obey the law of God out of love and thanks for such great salvation worked by Jehovah alone. Indeed, Belgic Confession article 24 precludes any other motive, lest obedience to the law of God be performed “out of self-love or fear of damnation” (Confessions and Church Order, 53).

The charge is practically impossible as well. All believers, given the gift of faith, which is their bond to Jesus Christ, will receive the life of Christ flowing into them through that bond, which life infallibly produces in them all of the good works that God foreordained for them to do. That’s God’s grace at work. And God’s grace, which is itself power, is irresistible and unstoppable.

Thus all three forms of unity concur: antinomianism in a believer is impossible. Article 24 continues, “Therefore it is impossible that this holy faith can be unfruitful in man” (Confessions and Church Order, 53).

Repeatedly, Rome falsely accused the reformers of being antinomians, thus charging Luther, Calvin, and all the rest with that crime. Paul was accused of it, and he called the charge slander. Jesus was accused as well: “Behold a man gluttonous, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners.” There is good company in being at the brunt of the false charge. Legalism’s embrace of the false charge of antinomianism could not be tighter or stronger. The charge is one of legalism’s main weapons against faith alone in Christ alone by grace alone.

And the charge has teeth. If antinomianism is truly believed and confessed (which some may still do but not while holding to the doctrines of salvation in truth, for that is impossible), the doctrine is doubly evil because it involves not merely sinning against God’s law, which is bad enough, but it also finds allowance for that sin in God’s grace. Those teeth are sharp because one who confesses the grace of God in truth and sincerely desires to live according to the law of God out of thanks and love will be devastated at the thought of being guilty of such an evil heresy. And more, the fear of the charge can tempt believers to weaken their confessions of the truths of grace alone, lest they be accused of holding to that pernicious doctrine or lest they somehow slip into that ditch. The charge is capable of leaving its mark.

And as Lucifer’s own lie, the charge is ingenious as well. It uses the impossible to batter the consciences of God’s people, while reining in the confession of the truth itself and stopping it in its tracks, or at least attempting to. In the end the attack is on the believer’s faith itself: “You believe in God’s work too much.” The delegates at Dordt had good reason to detest the charge.

If the truth of God’s grace cannot be stolen from a believer’s heart by the slickest enticements to perform legalism’s works of self-righteousness, then convincing men to be afraid of confessing and resting in the truth of God’s grace too much will still do the job. The false charge of antinomianism against the truths of grace alone is a roadblock hurled straight out of the ditch of works-righteousness and legalism onto the road of the truth walked by faith in Christ alone. Whether salvation by works is able to grab a believer into its clutches and pull him off the road into the abyss of trusting in his works or the threat of the charge of antinomianism stops that same pilgrim from moving forward on that road, grace is not fully embraced nor wholeheartedly believed. The enemy against grace has won.

So where lies the ditch of antinomianism if the false charge of antinomianism rests in legalism’s arsenal? It hides in the very same ditch. It is legalism’s ammunition, after all. Legalism and antinomianism are bedfellows there. They may be two opposite sides of one coin, but they are still one coin. Their goal is one. Their methods differ. Legalism abuses the law of God just as much as any true antinomian does, by using the law for a purpose for which the law was never intended. Works of the law can never save and never could, but works-righteousness claims that they do. And more, because no one can obey the law of God perfectly in this life, works-righteousness lowers the bar of the law so that imperfect obedience can still merit. Perfection is no longer required. Such a false doctrine not only attacks the truth of justification by faith alone by inserting works into justification, but it also does despite to the holy law of God, which reflects God’s own righteousness and holiness in absolute perfection. While antinomianism says you do not have to obey the law of God at all, legalism says you do not have to obey the law of God perfectly. Both attacks effectively harm the law of God.

And antinomianism’s attack on the truth does not end with disposing of the law. It leaves the grace of God in shambles. First of all, using the grace of God as an excuse to sin is nothing short of villainous against God’s holy grace. Further, if good works are the fruit of faith, there is no gracious gift of faith given to that antinomian. And still more, this heresy does despite to the wondrous and glorious grace of God, which saves the elect sinner not only from the guilt of sin but from the power and dominion of sin as well. Antinomianism denies God’s grace of sanctification altogether. Thus, along with denying the law of God, antinomianism denies the grace of God just as much as any brand of legalism does. In the end the damage to the law of God that these errors inflict is collateral destruction, while the central target of both heresies remains the truths of an entirely gracious salvation. Hitting justification by faith alone (which is what legalism does) takes all of salvation down in one strike, but sighting in sanctification as well (which is what antinomianism does) seals the demise and in the end batters justification some more for good measure besides. Satan knows the law doesn’t save. His most fiery darts will always be pointed at what does.

How can a road fit between these two enemies of grace? How can we safely pry our way between them? Attempting to do so might very well plunge us over the edge of the cliff with both of them, heads and tails spinning together, to land where the father of all lies resides in his den at the bottom of its depths. How do we escape such an end? We escape by heading directly away from all false notions of works, though ever so little, and into the truths of grace more and more. In the face of the true confession of justification by faith alone, the enemy of sanctification—which is antinomianism—becomes nothing but a rogue phantom. That the truth of sanctification is put at risk by the pursuit of the truth of justification in full strength of faith is a lie. The opposite is true! Out of the knowledge and confidence of God’s wondrous work of salvation, accomplished by him alone and centrally displayed in the truth of justification by faith alone, grows the sure fruit of gratitude. And gratitude demolishes any obstacle that any shade of antinomianism might attempt to set up, real or alleged. We escape because God puts us on that path of truth and grace, a path we walk in the certainty of faith, the faith that God alone gives. 

What’s on the other side of the road if a cliff drops away from only one edge of it? A wall is there, a wall of safety that guides us on our way. The road is built on a mountain. Its foundation is steadfast as solid rock. It is no man-made road floating in the middle of a swamp. It is a highway, straight and sure. It ascends to the top of Mount Zion. It is built on Mount Zion. It is Mount Zion. It is Jesus Christ himself. The voice of one in the wilderness cried, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God” (Isa. 40:3). Jesus said of himself, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). In him our foot cannot be moved.

Such is the landscape of faith, of grace, and of truth.