We’ve been looking at the new freedoms Christ has won for us in his death and resurrection. He’s saved us from the death we deserve, and we now have eternal life (Romans 5). And he’s saved us from the sin we were mastered by, so that we are no longer burdened with its guilt or control (Romans 6).
But what about being released from God’s law? In the seventh chapter of Romans, this is what Paul now turns to. If we are going to live for God, it’s vital that we are no longer under the power of his law.
What can this mean? It actually sounds wrong.
The answer comes in three parts. This isn’t so much because the subject is complex. It’s because we are!
Knowing what God says about right and wrong does some strange things to us. We can be proud of what we know, or depend on it, even while breaking it—as Paul has said the Jews did.[i] Or, we can resent and react to it, and even blame it—as everyone does if they are not at peace with God.[ii] And then, even when we are reconciled to God and love his law, our behaviour seems to have a will of its own so that we struggle with what God wants of us.
Each of these issues is addressed in this passage.
First, those who depend on the law should understand what Christ has done for them, and to them[iii].
Our obligation to law as a regime[iv] has needed to die—and has died, because we are included in Christ’s dying and rising. Paul’s ‘don’t you know’ highlights our tendency to miss this point.
Paul uses marriage as an illustration. It lasts as long as both parties are alive. But not after that. So, Paul argues, if we have died—with Christ—our earlier ‘marriage’ to law is finished. We can’t have Christ and still be ‘married’ to law.
Jews should have understood this—not just the illustration of marriage but what it refers to. Jesus comes among them and shows that they have not been keeping the law they are so fond of. And he is establishing a new regime. But they don’t understand this—or won’t. And they murder Jesus for standing between them and their law.
But it’s not just Jews who have this problem. All of us can elevate our culture and practices—even our Christian culture and practices—to an absolute. We become legalists who judge everything and everyone by our standard. We’re starting with what comes from God—his law—but actually living by what comes from us—our ‘flesh’.[v]
We need to see that Christ has died for our sins. Yes! But we also need to see that he has died to release us from ourselves and our proud notion that we may be able to please God by fulfilling some code of behaviour.
The tragedy of being under the law in this way is not just that it bypasses Christ’s work on the cross, but that it doesn’t yield any fruit for God. It’s sterile. It arouses our flesh, not subdues it.[vi] It imprisons us. And it ends in death, not life. In plain terms, we’re either going to accept we are dead to law because we’re trusting Christ, or, accept the death penalty ourselves!
We need to look again at what Jesus has done on the cross—to release us from this bondage! And need to see that the Spirit now conveys to us all the liberty and joy that will fulfil the law!
Second, those who blame the law, or dismiss it, don’t yet understand themselves.
Can we blame the law for our problems? Imagine arguing that God gets it wrong when he announces his requirements from Mount Sinai! It’s certainly the mindset of our present world—restrictions cause reaction, so don’t make any restrictions!
But, of course, we all have problems with law. Our problem is that we don’t get to write it! Or change it! Or avoid it! We want to be in charge.
But God’s law defines what sin is, and what righteousness is. And especially, as Paul says here, it includes not only what we are to do but what we want—‘you shall not covet what is your neighbour’s’. To covet is simply to long for all the other things prohibited by the other commands.
The law is not bad because it condemns us. It awakens us to what we really are. We all tend to think what we do is good—until forced to admit our faults. And law does this work. It reveals the worst in us.
This is personal, and, for the first time since the start of the letter, Paul refers to himself. This business of law is not an academic matter.
Does Paul have a particular crisis in mind? Of course, we don’t know. But we know that Paul feels this point personally. He’s speaking about the past, when he isn’t a Christian.
He wants the law to approve him—like the rich young ruler who comes to Jesus[vii]. But God says, ‘Don’t covet’. A law like this can’t approve him. It condemns him. Is this the crisis that Jesus refers to when he says to Saul of Tarsus outside Damascus, ‘It is hard for you…’ (Acts).
But God’s law is not the problem. It’s holy, righteous and good. Rather, the problem is our sin—sin so deep that it ends in death. This is what we need to see—that sin really is sinful. It is ‘sinful beyond measure’. When we do wrong, God is offended.
It’s hard to convey how necessary this point is. We are inclined to think well of ourselves, even while confessing our sins. And the sadness of this is, not just that we can’t see who we truly are, but that we don’t know how much we need Jesus.
Third, those who love the law will always be in a battle.
Paul speaks to us personally again, but now, in the present tense. He speaks to us as one Christian to another.
And this is how we can now think about the law. It’s ‘spiritual’—suggesting that it’s from God, that we can’t get our hands on it and that it does what God wants it to do. It’s good. And, with all our heart, it’s what we want to do.[viii]
But where has this understanding and this desire come from? It’s the new heart God has given us, as he told Jeremiah[ix]. It’s the new covenant that Jesus enacted by the spilling of his blood.[x] The law has been written on our hearts—not just on stone tablets.[xi] We know God. And love him. And in loving him, we want to do his will.
A law that’s above us—as something to reach, kills us[xii]. On the other hand, a law that’s written on our hearts and a Spirit that’s given to dwell in us produces fruit. And this fruit breaks no law.[xiii]
But then, how shall we understand our wrong desires and lapses? These suggest we are ‘sold under sin’ (v. 14), that, in fact we are still slaves and not free at all (v. 23). It makes us feel wretched (v. 24).
Notice how Paul uses ‘I’ in this passage. He says ‘I’ do what ‘I’ don’t want to do. Is he a hopelessly divided personality? Far from it. There is an ‘I’ in Christ, but also, an ‘I’ described as flesh constantly asserting itself. But he, and we, are always one person. The difference is a difference of relation—we know and respond to God, but we also know and respond to the world that has rejected God.
It’s the actions of this latter ‘I’ that are troubling. Sin is close (v. 21) but it’s not our ‘inner being’ (v. 22).
Paul feels this so strongly that he says it is not ‘I’ who do the wrong. It’s sin in me. He’s learned that the ‘I’ who is in Christ is secure. He can look on wrong done as something apart from his real person. His identity is secure. His behavior is the problem.
Anyone who thinks they have conquered their propensity to sin is deceiving themselves. On the other hand, everyone who trusts in Christ has a security more powerful than the greatest of failures. We will endure. And we will be ‘delivered from this body of death’.
This subject continues when we come to look at the next chapter. But we’ve come to some conclusions. First, God’s dos and don’ts are good. We can be thankful for them. And second, we are not good, and we need to run to Christ. And third, we can’t fudge our way through life by pretending we are innocent and harmless. We have to struggle.
[i] Rom 2:23
[ii] Rom. 7:5
[iii] Vv. 1-6
[iv] A governance that can approve or condemn us.
[v] Gal. 3:3-14
[vi] As in 2:17-24
[vii] Mark 10:17-20
[viii] Some think this section describes a pre-Christian experience, but the affirmations about the law suggest that this is a person who loves God and is part of his new covenant.
[ix] Jer. 31:31-34
[x] Luke 22:20
[xi] 2 Cor. 3:6-8
[xii] Cf. Deut. 30:11-14
[xiii] Gal. 5:22-23
Simply True 