Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. —Matthew 5: 17 & 18, NIV
Love God. Love your Brother. That was it. That was the true fulfillment.
But someone else came and wrote with red markets, Love God only on Sundays.
Then another person came and wrote, Love your Brother when He gives you the foods you want.
Someone saw these letters being written and transposed, altered and eradicated, and followed suit. Then another woman felt the new law needed an addendum. Then a child asked his father why certain people were more equal than others. There came a host of unnecessary, yet binding rules, that either one contradicted the other but were equally binding and enforced with a penalty of death if they were not carried as expected. A little bit over here, a little bit over there, and the new laws reduced humanity to a blubbering mess.
What will the follow? Who will they follow? What was right, and what was wrong? Is there any difference between day and night, or one and two? Is chicken breast acceptable, but not the chicken wing? Confusion reigned, but nobody dared speak up under the stringent penalty of death looming over them.
But a mysterious man came and wiped the wall clean, taking away every addendum made by human markers. It took days, weeks, and months to clean the wall of its bondage. People looked at him like a madman, some saying that wall was a representation of abundance and prosperity, of thoughts and philosophies that intertwined with one another. But the man saw otherwise: a symbol of death, a relic of confusion.
When he finished, he quickly left as he mysteriously arrived. And the people saw two new rules they have never seen before:
Love God. Love your Brother. That was it. That was the true fulfillment.