I’m a recovering legalist. Growing up, I treated my performance as the measuring stick of my worth. I gauged my value by my ability to meet the expectations of others. It’s no surprise that, from the moment I was introduced to Christianity, I began treating God this way.
During my early church-going years, I was a legalist. By college, I hit rock bottom. After countless failures to live up to expectations, I fell into a pit of legalistic despair. But God met me there and formed me into a new creation. I was changed by grace to live by grace. But like an addict in a recovery program, I still have my share of bad days where I slip back into old habits.
But it’s more subtle now. I’ve been a Christian long enough to know that you can’t earn salvation by good works. I have Ephesians 2:8-9 down pat. But believing in salvation by grace alone, through faith alone, doesn’t preclude me from legalistic slip ups.
I may not be tempted anymore to see my obedience as a means to merit God’s favor, but I can easily convince myself that obedience is how I retain his favor or how I pay him back for all he’s done for me.
Legalism comes in many different forms – or classes. This idea was introduced to me in Dan Doriani’s book, Putting the Truth to Work. He presents four classes of legalism:
Class-one legalists are auto-soterists; they declare what one must do in order to obtain God’s favor or salvation. The rich young ruler was a class-one legalist.
Class-two legalists declare what good deeds or spiritual disciplines one must perform to retain God’s favor and salvation.
Class-three legalists love the law so much they create new laws, laws not found in Scripture, and require submission to them. The Pharisees, who build fences around the law, were class-three legalists.
Class-four legalists avoid these gross errors, but they so accentuate obedience to the law of God that other ideas shrivel up. They reason, ‘God has redeemed us at the cost of his Son’s life. Now he demands our service in return. He has given us his Spirit and a new nature and has stated his will. With these resources, we obey his law in gratitude for our redemption. This is our duty to God.’ In an important way this is true, but class-four legalists dwell on the law of God until they forget the love of God. Worshiping, delighting in, communing with, and conforming to God are forgotten.
These days I find myself slipping into class-four legalism. It’s easy to lose sight of God’s grace and let Christian joy fade into mere Christian duty. My instinctive debtor’s ethic keeps kicking in. Like most Asian Americans, I was taught, growing up, that acts of kindness should always be repaid in kind. For example, it was an unspoken cultural expectation that invited guests should always arrive at the door with a gift in hand.
Personally, I think this practice is courteous when applied to a neighbor, but it can be problematic when applied to God. A debtor’s ethic directed towards God could encourage mere duty or obligation as the chief motivation for Christian obedience or service. With no emphasis on the love of God or the joy of his salvation.
Class-four legalists are in desperate need of a gospel intervention. We need to face the humbling reality that we are incapable of paying the Lord back in kind. But the good news is that we don’t have to. God knows we are spiritually bankrupt and have nothing to offer but our sin and shame. And yet, by his grace, he loves us and covers us with his robes of righteousness. He invites us to sit at his table as sons and daughters.
That means, as a Christian, I don’t have to bring my obedience or service to God like an invited guest. More like an adult son going over to his parents’ house for dinner. I’m sure my parents would consider it strange and superfluous if I arrived with a gift. If it was done out of sincere, loving gratitude, I think they would appreciate the gift (but probably still tell me to return it!). But I would definitely be scolded if they realized I was doing it out of mere obligation. They would say, “Why would you do that? You’re not a guest here. You’re family.”
That’s what a recovering class-four legalist needs to hear. That’s the question we need to ask. Why do we obey and serve our God? Remember, you’re not a guest in his house. You’re his son. You’re his daughter. So, don’t bring God your obedience or service because of some unspoken expectation. Bring it out of a sincere and loving gratitude for his grace.
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