A lot of us as parents have had the experience of coming home after work and making announcements as to what the children will not be able to do—anticipating that they will be planning to do X, Y, or Z. You enter the house and proclaim: "Look, you’re not going to do this and you’re not going to do that," and they look up at you, laugh, and say, "Well, I wasn’t thinking about doing it anyway, but now that you mention it, it’s a good idea."

Compare this attitude toward the "law," toward God’s "rules," if you like, with the attitude of the Psalmist in Psalm 19:

The law of the Lord is perfect,
reviving the soul;
the testimony of the Lord is sure,
making wise the simple;…
the commandment of the Lord is pure,
enlightening the eyes;…
More to be desired are they than gold,
even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey
and drippings of the honeycomb.
(Ps. 19:7, 8, 10 RSV)

If you think about this passage for a minute, it becomes quite extraordinary. C. S. Lewis first called my attention to the power of these words in his little book, Reflections on the Psalms. He points out that "thou shalt not steal" and "thou shalt not kill," don’t ordinarily get confused with donuts that are delicious or a fruit drink that is exhilarating on a hot day.

[A] hungry man left alone, without money, in a shop filled with the smell and sight of new bread…or fresh strawberries…may respect [and obey] the "statute." But surely it could be more aptly compared to the dentist’s forceps or the front line than to anything enjoyable and sweet.1

In the very first Psalm the writer tells us that a good man delights "in the law of the Lord and in his law will he meditate day and night." In the 119th Psalm—the longest in the Psalter—the writer devotes it all to the law. From a literary point of view this is the most formal and elaborate of the Psalms. It is in alphabetical order in Hebrew and is obviously a carefully crafted statement rather than a spontaneous outpouring of emotion. "It is a pattern, a thing done like an embroidery, stitch by stitch, through long, quiet hours, for love of the subject and for the delight in leisurely, disciplined craftsmanship."2

This kind of fascination with the law could easily lead to pharisaism, that must be admitted. But there is something else here that we cannot overlook. Obedience to the law (even when one realized it could not be obeyed perfectly) gave the same kind of exhilaration to the Psalmist that performing a delicate operation successfully gives to the neurosurgeon, or a precision instrument approach executed almost perfectly gives to the pilot.

It’s that feeling that you did it "just right," even if it is no more momentous than serving an ace on the tennis court. It is the sense of a task well done, even if others helped you do it. It is the sweet taste of those who hear the Master say, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant." It is not a feeling of arrogance—that I have been obedient—but a humble sense that the responsibility for performing the operation or landing the airplane is mine, and I am grateful for those who prepared me to accomplish this act. In religion, it is gratefulness to God for victory over sin, for the sense of peace and joy that faithfulness to one’s wife gives a man.

The law, as we all believe and know, as God articulated it in the Old Testament, really was lived out by Jesus on earth. Jesus shows us what it means to translate words and concepts into living human flesh, and in him we have a sense of the sweetness of the rules—the sweetness of the law.

There is another theme in the Psalms concerning the law that is closely related to this one; the law is a "lamp" and "guide." It is an enabler, a reality that frees me rather than restricts. Let’s go back to the surgeon for a moment. Does he see the many proscribed procedures of the operation as limiting him or freeing him to save that person’s life? Does the pilot perceive the Federal Aviation Administration regulations surrounding instrument landings as restricting his ability to fly or freeing him to fly anywhere he wishes to go? You see, the surgeon and the pilot have a goal in mind, and they need "rules" to light their way to that goal. They have to choose law, order, rules, disciplines in order to achieve their purpose.

One of the hardest things for me to learn is that I have to discipline and restrict myself in order to be free. If I want to fly an airplane, I have to restrict myself. I’ve got to observe rules; I’ve got to follow procedures. If I want to operate on people and save their lives, I’ve got to be disciplined. That was the sense that the Psalmist had—that the law did not restrict me; the law freed me, the law gave me the opportunity to do something.

How does the law taste to you? Is it sweeter than honey, or God’s version of castor oil? Do you delight in its precepts, or swat at them like annoying mosquitoes?

Jesus said, "You shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free." Would you be free? Then be obedient. Obedience can produce freedom and freedom obedience.

Notes and References

1. C. S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1958), 55.
2. Ibid., 58–59.

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