by the fact that His Son was born of a woman. The more general
term "woman" indicates that Christ was born a true man. Paul does not
say that Christ was born of man and woman, but only of woman. That he
has a virgin in mind is obvious.

This passage furthermore declares that Christ's purpose in coming was
the abolition of the Law, not with the intention of laying down new
laws, but "to redeem them that were under the law." Christ himself
declared: "I judge no man." (John 8:15.) Again, "I came not to judge
the world, but to save the world." (John 12:47.) In other words: "I
came not to bring more laws, or to judge men according to the existing
Law. I have a higher and better office. I came to judge and to condemn
the Law, so that it may no more judge and condemn the world."

How did Christ manage to redeem us? "He was made under the law." When
Christ came He found us all in prison. What did He do about it?
Although He was the Lord of the Law, He voluntarily placed Himself
under the Law and permitted it to exercise dominion over Him, indeed to
accuse and to condemn Him. When the Law takes us into judgment it has a
perfect right to do so. "For we are by nature the children of wrath,
even as others." (Eph. 2:3.) Christ, however, "did no sin, neither was
guile found in his mouth." (I Pet. 2:22.) Hence the Law had no
jurisdiction over Him. Yet the Law treated this innocent, just, and
blessed Lamb of God as cruelly as it treated us. It accused Him of
blasphemy and treason. It made Him guilty of the sins of the whole
world. It overwhelmed him with such anguish of soul that His sweat was
as blood. The Law condemned Him to the shameful death on the Cross.

It is truly amazing that the Law had the effrontery to turn upon its
divine Author, and that without a show of right. For its insolence the
Law in turn was arraigned before the judgment seat of God and
condemned. Christ might have overcome the Law by an exercise of His
omnipotent authority over the Law. Instead, He humbled Himself under
the Law for and together with them that were under the Law. He gave the
Law license to accuse and condemn Him. His present mastery over the Law
was obtained by virtue of His Sonship and His substitutionary victory.

Thus Christ banished the Law from the conscience. It dare no longer
banish us from God. For that matter,—the Law continues to reveal sin.
It still raises its voice in condemnation. But the conscience finds
quick relief in the words of the Apostle: "Christ has redeemed us from
the law." The conscience can now hold its head high and say to the Law:
"You are not so holy yourself. You crucified the Son of God. That was
an awful thing for you to do. You have lost your influence forever."

The words, "Christ was made under the law," are worth all the attention
we can bestow on them. They declare that the Son of God did not only
fulfill one or two easy requirements of the Law, but that He endured
all the tortures of the Law. The Law brought all its fright to bear
upon Christ until He experienced anguish and terror such as nobody else
ever experienced. His bloody sweat. His need of angelic comfort, His
tremulous prayer in the garden, His lamentation on the Cross, "My God,
my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" bear eloquent witness to the sting
of the Law. He suffered "to redeem them that were under the law."

The Roman conception of Christ as a mere lawgiver more stringent than
Moses, is quite contrary to Paul's teaching. Christ, according to Paul,
was not an agent of the Law but a patient of the Law. He was not a
law-giver, but a law-taker.

True enough, Christ also taught and expounded the Law. But it was
incidental. It was a sideline with Him. He did not come into the world
for the purpose of teaching the Law, as little as it was the purpose of
His coming to perform miracles. Teaching the Law and performing
miracles did not constitute His unique mission to the world. The
prophets also taught the Law and performed miracles. In fact, according
to the promise of Christ, the apostles performed greater miracles than
Christ Himself. (John 14:12.) The true purpose of Christ's coming was
the abolition of the Law, of sin, and of death.

If we think of Christ as Paul here depicts Him, we shall never go
wrong. We shall never be in danger of misconstruing the meaning of the
Law. We shall understand that the Law does not justify. We shall
understand why a Christian observes laws: For the peace of the world,
out of gratitude to God, and for a good example that others may be
attracted to the Gospel.

VERSE 5. That we might receive the adoption of sons.

Paul still has for his text Genesis 22:18, "In thy seed shall all the
nations of the earth be blessed." In the course of his Epistle he calls
this promise of the blessing righteousness, life, deliverance from the
Law, the testament, etc. Now he also calls the promise of blessing "the
adoption of sons," the inheritance of everlasting life.

What ever induced God to adopt us for His children and heirs? What
claim can men who are subservient to sin, subject to the curse of the
Law, and worthy of everlasting death, have on God and eternal life?
That God adopted us is due to the merit of Jesus Christ, the Son of
God, who humbled Himself under the Law and redeemed us law-ridden
sinners.

VERSE 6. And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his
Son into your hearts.

In the early Church the Holy Spirit was sent forth in visible form. He
descended upon Christ in the form of a dove (Matt. 3:16), and in the
likeness of fire upon the apostles and other believers. (Acts 2:3.)
This visible outpouring of the Holy Spirit was necessary to the
establishment of the early Church, as were also the miracles that
accompanied the gift of the Holy Ghost. Paul explained the purpose of
these miraculous gifts of the Spirit in I Corinthians 14:22, "Tongues
are for a sign, not to them that believe, but to them that believe
not." Once the Church had been established and properly advertised by
these miracles, the visible appearance of the Holy Ghost ceased.

Next, the Holy Ghost is sent forth into the hearts of the believers, as
here stated, "God sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts." This
sending is accomplished by the preaching of the Gospel through which
the Holy Spirit inspires us with fervor and light, with new judgment,
new desires, and new motives. This happy innovation is not a derivative
of reason or personal development, but solely the gift and operation of
the Holy Ghost.

This renewal by the Holy Spirit may not be conspicuous to the world,
but it is patent to us by our better judgment, our improved speech, and
our unashamed confession of Christ. Formerly we did not confess Christ
to be our only merit, as we do now in the light of the Gospel. Why,
then, should we feel bad if the world looks upon us as ravagers of
religion and insurgents against constituted authority? We confess
Christ and our conscience approves of it. Then, too, we live in the
fear of God. If we sin, we sin not on purpose, but unwittingly, and we
are sorry for it. Sin sticks in our flesh, and the flesh gets us into
sin even after we have been imbued by the Holy Ghost. Outwardly there
is no great difference between a Christian and any honest man. The
activities of a Christian are not sensational. He performs his duty
according to his vocation. He takes good care of his family, and is
kind and helpful to others. Such homely, everyday performances are not
much admired. But the setting-up exercises of the monks draw great
applause. Holy works, you know. Only the acts of a Christian are truly
good and acceptable to God, because they are done in faith, with a
cheerful heart, out of gratitude to Christ.

We ought to have no misgivings about whether the Holy Ghost dwells in
us. We are "the temple of the Holy Ghost." (I Cor. 3:16.) When we have
a love for the Word of God, and gladly hear, talk, write, and think of
Christ, we are to know that this inclination toward Christ is the gift
and work of the Holy Ghost. Where you come across contempt for the Word
of God, there is the devil. We meet with such contempt for the Word of
God mostly among the common people. They act as though the Word of God
does not concern them. Wherever you find a love for the Word, thank God
for the Holy Spirit who infuses this love into the hearts of men. We
never come by this love naturally, neither can it be enforced by laws.
It is the gift of the Holy Spirit.

The Roman theologians teach that no man can know for a certainty
whether he stands in the favor of God or not. This teaching forms one
of the chief articles of their faith. With this teaching they tormented
men's consciences, excommunicated Christ from the Church, and limited
the operations of the Holy Ghost.

St. Augustine observed that "every man is certain of his faith, if he
has faith." This the Romanists deny. "God forbid," they exclaim
piously, "that I should ever be so arrogant as to think that I stand in
grace, that I am holy, or that I have the Holy Ghost." We ought to feel
sure that we stand in the grace of God, not in view of our own
worthiness, but through the good services of Christ. As certain as we
are that Christ pleases God, so sure ought we to be that we also please
God, because Christ is in us. And although we daily offend God by our
sins, yet as often as we sin, God's mercy bends over us. Therefore sin
cannot get us to doubt the grace of God. Our certainty is of Christ,
that mighty Hero who overcame the Law, sin, death, and all evils. So
long as He sits at the right hand of God to intercede for us, we have
nothing to fear from the anger of God.

This inner assurance of the grace of God is accompanied by outward
indications such as gladly to hear, preach, praise, and to confess
Christ, to do one's duty in the station in which God has placed us, to
aid the needy, and to comfort the sorrowing. These are the affidavits
of the Holy Spirit testifying to our favorable standing with God.

If we could be fully persuaded that we are in the good grace of God,
that our sins are forgiven, that we have the Spirit of Christ, that we
are the beloved children of God, we would be ever so happy and grateful
to God. But because we often feel fear and doubt we cannot come to that
happy certainty.

Train your conscience to believe that God approves of you. Fight it out
with doubt. Gain assurance through the Word of God. Say: "I am all
right with God. I have the Holy Ghost. Christ, in whom I do believe,
makes me worthy. I gladly hear, read, sing, and write of Him. I would
like nothing better than that Christ's Gospel be known throughout the
world and that many, many be brought to faith in Him."

VERSE 6. Crying, Abba, Father.

Paul might have written, "God sent forth the Spirit of his Son into
your hearts, calling Abba, Father." Instead, he wrote, "Crying, Abba,
Father." In the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans the Apostle
describes this crying of the Spirit as "groanings which cannot be
uttered." He writes in the 26th verse: "Likewise the Spirit also
helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we
ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings
which cannot be uttered."

The fact that the Spirit of Christ in our hearts cries unto God and
makes intercession for us with groanings should reassure us greatly.
However, there are many factors that prevent such full reassurance on
our part. We are born in sin. To doubt the good will of God is an
inborn suspicion of God with all of us. Besides, the devil, our
adversary, goeth about seeking to devour us by roaring: "God is angry
at you and is going to destroy you forever." In all these difficulties
we have only one support, the Gospel of Christ. To hold on to it, that
is the trick. Christ cannot be perceived with the senses. We cannot see
Him. The heart does not feel His helpful presence. Especially in times
of trials a Christian feels the power of sin, the infirmity of his
flesh, the goading darts of the devil, the agues of death, the scowl
and judgment of God. All these things cry out against us. The Law
scolds us, sin screams at us, death thunders at us, the devil roars at
us. In the midst of the clamor the Spirit of Christ cries in our
hearts: "Abba, Father." And this little cry of the Spirit transcends
the hullabaloo of the Law, sin, death, and the devil, and finds a
hearing with God.

The Spirit cries in us because of our weakness. Because of our
infirmity the Holy Ghost is sent forth into our hearts to pray for us
according to the will of God and to assure us of the grace of God.

Let the Law, sin, and the devil cry out against us until their outcry
fills heaven and earth. The Spirit of God outcries them all. Our feeble
groans, "Abba, Father," will be heard of God sooner than the combined
racket of hell, sin, and the Law.

We do not think of our groanings as a crying. It is so faint we do not
know we are groaning. "But he," says Paul, "that searcheth the hearts
knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit." (Romans 8:27.) To this
Searcher of hearts our feeble groaning, as it seems to us, is a loud
shout for help in comparison with which the howls of hell, the din of
the devil, the yells of the Law, the shouts of sin are like so many
whispers.

In the fourteenth chapter of Exodus the Lord addresses Moses at the Red
Sea: "Wherefore criest thou unto me?" Moses had not cried unto the
Lord. He trembled so he could hardly talk. His faith was at low ebb. He
saw the people of Israel wedged between the Sea and the approaching
armies of Pharaoh. How were they to escape? Moses did not know what to
say. How then could God say that Moses was crying to Him? God heard the
groaning heart of Moses and the groans to Him sounded like loud shouts
for help. God is quick to catch the sigh of the heart.

Some have claimed that the saints are without infirmities. But Paul
says: "The Spirit helpeth our infirmities, and maketh intercession for
us with groanings which cannot be uttered." We need the help of the
Holy Spirit because we are weak and infirm. And the Holy Spirit never
disappoints us. Confronted by the armies of Pharaoh, retreat cut off by
the waters of the Red Sea, Moses was in a bad spot. He felt himself to
blame. The devil accused him: "These people will all perish, for they
cannot escape. And you are to blame because you led the people out of
Egypt. You started all this." And then the people started in on Moses.
"Because there were no graves in Egypt, hast thou taken us away to die
in the wilderness? For it had been better for us to serve the
Egyptians, than that we should die in the wilderness." (Ex. 14:11, 12.)
But the Holy Ghost was in Moses and made intercession for him with
unutterable groanings, sighings unto the Lord: "O Lord, at Thy
commandment have I led forth this people. So help me now."

The Spirit intercedes for us not in many words or long prayers, but
with groanings, with little sounds like "Abba." Small as this word is,
it says ever so much. It says: "My Father, I am in great trouble and
you seem so far away. But I know I am your child, because you are my
Father for Christ's sake. I am loved by you because of the Beloved."
This one little word "Abba" surpasses the eloquence of a Demosthenes
and a Cicero.

I have spent much time on this verse in order to combat the cruel
teaching of the Roman church, that a person ought to be kept in a state
of uncertainty concerning his status with God. The monasteries recruit
the youth on the plea that their "holy" orders will assuredly recruit
them for heaven. But once inside the monastery the recruits are told to
doubt the p