ROMANS: Predestined

** Much of this post comes from teaching I received from Ray VanderLaan in person and I would recommend watching the video that is referenced within the post.

I’m sure all of my theologically-minded readers thought I had conveniently skipped over the dialogue about predestination in our last conversation, but alas, I don’t like to skip over much. I simply didn’t want a silly theological argument based on western philosophy to detour us from what Paul was trying to accomplish and the greater truth that lies in Romans 8. But having dealt with that, let’s have a word about predestination.

For anybody who is familiar with the basic theological conversations swirling in the western world, they have probably come across and/or wrestled with the idea of predestination and determinism. Does God predestine and select a group of people — the “elect” — for salvation? How far does God’s sovereignty stretch? Do we still have free will? I can remember a younger version of myself causing endless problems in Bible College as a five-point hyper-Calvinist.

I have since come to learn that we often argue about questions the Bible isn’t asking.

Since learning to study the Bible from its original point of view — from the view of the original author and audience — I have discovered we usually misunderstand the concepts that perplex us the most in our worldview. The answers do not come in trying to “explain” the concept better; instead, the help lies in understanding the concept within the context of biblical conversation.

To be clear, if you would have asked an early Jewish believer (or Gentile convert) if God was sovereign, determining the future and intimately interacting with the details of our daily lives, they would have looked at you funny and said, “Of course.”  But if you would have asked them if we have free will and if the future is undetermined with endless possibilities, they would have also said, “Of course.” I know this is inconceivable in our world, but in the world of the Bible, they understand the nature of paradox and what we sometimes call “double-point truth.”

Or, to use the words of a rabbi I heard one day, “I’ve never thought about that before.” They just don’t think about those questions the way we do; they accept paradox for what it is and move on to better questions.

So let’s do that. Let’s move on to better questions.

What was the first-century understanding of predestination?

Their understanding of predestination revolved around the idea of “oracle.” In the ancient Greco-Roman world, they had oracles who received messages from the gods of the underworld. “Oracle” could refer to the temple building, the person receiving the messages, or the message itself. As my teacher says, “You go to an oracle, to get an oracle, from an oracle.” It seems confusing initially, but hopefully you understand the concept.

The ruins of the Oracle at Didyma (Turkey)

In the Roman Empire, there were four recognized oracles, one of the most famous being the Oracle at Delphi. When we travel to Turkey, I often take my students to the ruins of the Oracle at Didyma. The concept, while elaborate, is somewhat easy to explain. (I would recommend watching “The Very Words of God” faith lesson from Ray Vander Laan [Vol. 6 of the That the World May Know series produced by Focus on the Family] for a more in-depth look at the details.) People would travel sometimes hundreds of miles, bringing gifts, to get a message from the oracle. Once their question was posed, they would wait. Eventually, the oracle would be pronounced and the formula, as far as we can tell from history, was pretty straightforward.

“If you offer _____________ to the gods, and if you do this and that, then it is predestined that _________________ will happen.”

For the people of the Bible, they understood the discussion of predestination to be couched in an assumption of your obedience. If you choose to do what the gods demand, then it is predestined that you will find success.

Let’s return to Romans 8 and see how Paul talks about predestination and try to see it through the eyes of the audience in Rome.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.

God has plans for all of us. And God is at work in the world, working all things out for the greater good of His redemptive purposes. And He has predestined us to partner with Him in this work; He declared we would be conformed into the image of Jesus so we could be the bechor (or the b’hor, as we wrote about before) — the firstborn, the child who partners with the father to spread Daddy’s values to the rest of His kids. Because this was His predetermined plan, He put a call on their lives and in their hearts. And because of this intention He also justified them freely through faith so they would be equipped for the task at hand. And because of this great work He also glorified them and raised them up from their low position.

Please remember that this is the passage leading into the pronouncement, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” Doesn’t it fit well?

But all of this talk presumes we would accept the call and recognize what we have been made for and the path laid out for us.

If you go to an oracle and receive your message, but decide not to follow instructions, then all bets are off. The “predestination” only matters (in their world) if you do what the oracle tells you. “IF you offer… and IF you do this… THEN…”

You have been made for an incredible partnership with God. If you choose to walk in faithfulness and trust His promises, it is predestined that you will be conformed into the image of Jesus. God believes so much in this predetermined plan that He extends this call to you now. He exonerates you, justifying you and declaring you righteous if you are willing to trust in His promise of love and grace. And for all those who agree to join Him, He raises them up out of their struggle and despair, glorifying them and setting them apart for the mission.

ROMANS: Nothing

It is this struggle that so many of us can find exhausting. It is this challenge to walk according to the Spirit and to shut out all of the other voices screaming for our attention that causes us to scream on our insides. Paul moves on to tell us we are not alone in these struggles, for we are part of an entire creation groaning for redemption — the restoration of Genesis 1 goodness.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

And now I am also forced to consider the “sufferings” Paul mentions here in the eighth chapter. Is it a simple reference to the internal and personal struggle with sin he has been talking about? Likely, and at least. But is he also referencing the struggle of first-century Christianity in Rome? As I study this letter, I am reminded of the struggle to survive the persecution, the ridicule, and even, at times, the executions.

To put it simply, things were not as they should be and they knew it. Things are not as they should be and we know it. There is a struggle to endure, a battle that wars inside each of us, and there are wars that battle around us, some of them literal and many of them metaphorical. But things are not as they should be.

Paul says this is true for all of creation. The entirety of creation finds itself in bondage to a curse that works against everything it is supposed to be. Paul encourages his readers to fight the good fight and engage the daily struggle because of hope. We have a deep, fundamental belief in the redemptive work of God and the restoration of all things. Though we cannot see it and experience it in its fullness now, we get tastes of it. It is this hope which helps us endure and hold out for what we do not yet see.

It’s worth noting the world that Paul speaks of — the world groaning for redemption — is this world. It is not that we sit around waiting to be beamed out of here to some other place where everything is made right. No, Paul tells us this struggle is worth it because it is this world that groans for redemption, it is this world that will be set free from its bondage, and it is this world that we hope will be made right. Not only this, but our hopes for this world can often be skewed by our limited, finite perspective. Paul conveys that when we think about this struggle and our longings, as we cry out for redemption and rescue, we don’t even know what we ask.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.

It is this same Spirit who helps turn our longing and our groaning into something that rises before God — a God who hears the groaning of His creation.

It seems like all of this talk about the struggle and a new righteousness that comes by faith and the hope of a God who is making everything right launches Paul into a benediction of sorts. It ends up becoming one of my favorite passages in the New Testament:

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.

Even though this struggle is hard and the temptation to give up is incredibly real, we have a God who hears the struggle and responds to the cry of His creation. Even though there are voices inside of us that scream for condemnation, the truth of the matter is there was and there is no condemnation, for it is God who justifies. And this God justifies because of faith, not because of our ability to prove ourselves. This justifying God is for us. And if this God is for us, then who could possibly be against us? At least, who could be against us that could matter when they stand against the acceptance of God? If God is the justifier, who is the condemner? No one — at least no one whose condemnation matters.

And then I am reminded that, in fact, maybe it is a physical and literal suffering this audience was enduring. It only makes Paul’s point stronger:

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,

“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;    we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”

Can even literal persecution and physical suffering separate us from the love of Christ? Paul laughs off the idea.

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

If this is even remotely true for the first-century believers of Rome, how much more (kal va’chomer?) should it be true for us today? If the condemnation of Caesar himself and the point of a Roman sword can’t separate us from the love of God, then what about our circumstances? If the voices that rage around the believers in Rome couldn’t condemn them, how much more helpless are the voices that rage inside of our own selves?

Simply put, if God is for us, who could be against us? What is it in our lives that could possibly separate us from God’s love?

Could our failures and our past mistakes and our horrible decisions? Could our insecurities? Could the expectations of our parents? Could the expectations of the world? Could the expectations of ourselves? Could our daily struggles? Could our addictions? Could our desires?

No. Nothing could separate us from the love of God.

Nothing.

Paul said this truth makes us more than conquerors. How true that is.

Sigmund Freud once said, “How bold one gets when one is sure of being loved.”

You, brother or sister, are loved. And nothing could ever change that about you.

Nothing.

ROMANS: According to the Spirit

“For it is not through a standard of morality or a system of rules that we will ever experience freedom from the struggle Paul describes, a struggle you and I know all too well. No, it is only through trusting in the promises of God, following in the example of the Christ, and displaying the faith of Jesus that we find a unique kind of victory and freedom — a life where this ongoing struggle does not lead to condemnation.

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t it be great if this struggle with our sarx didn’t always end with our own guilt and shame and the weight of the cry of rescue from our wretched selves?”

These were the closing words of our last conversation. And in fact, not only would it be nice, but according to Paul, it’s actually the way it really is. Paul tells us this struggle does not lead to condemnation, because if the promises of God — which we looked at earlier — are true, then there isn’t anything to hang over our heads.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.

This is actually the very promise we trust in when we trust the story. By witnessing the life of Jesus, we see the unadulterated love of God made flesh. His life showed us many things about the flesh: It showed us how to live with victory over the flesh; it showed us what really matters in God’s economy and what doesn’t. And his life even showed us an awful lot about God. It showed us God is not angry, full of wrath and judgment; instead, this God is full of love and recklessly pursues the outsider, the unloved, and the screwed up.

If we believe this to be true — if we have faith and trust in these promises — then we are set free from any cloud of condemnation (self-imposed or otherwise). This freedom allows us to see things and call things what they are and walk in truth.

For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.

It’s what we set our minds on that seems to make all the difference in the world. If we set our minds on the things of our sarx (our animal appetites and our beast-like nature), then we reap that paycheck of death. However, if we set our minds on the things that are most true about us, it sets us free to lay down our lives for others. Our lives become a practice of self-sacrifice instead of self-preservation. It is this self-sacrifice that pleases God, not because of His system of rules, but because it’s who He is.

You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you.

It is this very truth of Christ that gives life to our mortal bodies, which seem to be driven by the sarx. It is the power of the resurrected Christ that takes something which seems so dead and breathes so much life into it.

So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. 

Paul says that because of this truth we are debtors; by this term he speaks primarily of being bound up in relationship. In our culture, we see debt through the lens of bondage and slavery. While this was true in some ways in the world of Rome, debt created much more of a covenantal and relational connection. Paul is saying we are all bound up in a relationship as a debtor. And yet he also wants it to be clear, it is not a relationship of harsh slavery.

For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.

Paul says God would not have given this Spirit for the purpose of slavery, but the purpose of sonship. It is this relationship with the Father, this debtor-patriarch relationship, that paves the way for our adoption. I think of how we spoke in Galatians about being adopted into the family of God as children of Abraham. Paul says it is this Spirit of God, this way of love and forgiveness, this free gift of grace that allows us to be adopted into the family as daughters and sons. (While in Galatians we were speaking of Gentiles, here in Romans I think he speaks of Jew and Gentile alike.)

But Paul also speaks of suffering being a necessity in our walk with the LORD... 

ROMANS: the Struggle

And now we come to one of those famous passages we often use to explain some of those assumptions we’ve been questioning throughout this series. Many will go to this passage — the “struggle with sin” Paul describes in Romans 7 — and use it to argue against some of my suggestions about the essence of mankind and our “sinful nature.” But before we jump to too many conclusions, let’s take this passage chunk by chunk and see what we hear from Paul.

What then shall we say? That the law is sin? By no means! Yet if it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin. For I would not have known what it is to covet if the law had not said, “You shall not covet.”

We pick up in this passage with Paul talking about one of the nagging questions we’ve been dealing with in the New Testament. Isn’t Paul arguing that the Law of Moses has died, and that we have thrown it out into the refuse pile and exchanged it for a better truth? I have been arguing adamantly for a more historically appropriate understanding of the “works of the Law” or the miqsat ma’asay haTorah. And here is one place where we see Paul communicating the same concept he’s talked about in the book of Galatians and earlier in Romans. The Law is not problematic; the Law is not done away with. On the contrary, without the Law, we would never have been able to learn and appreciate an understanding of righteousness and sin — the way of life and the way of death. It is the Law which gave God’s people a place to begin the conversation of what it means to partner with God.

But sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, produced in me all kinds of covetousness. For apart from the law, sin lies dead. I was once alive apart from the law, but when the commandment came, sin came alive and I died. The very commandment that promised life proved to be death to me. For sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me. So the law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.

However, once this knowledge is possessed by the student of Torah, there is this “beast-nature” in him (that we learned about in Genesis 2–3). This part of Paul (and all of us) goes to work and begins to tempt the follower of God toward the trespass. Paul reiterates this is not the fault of the Law, for the commandment itself is holy and good. It is the part of us that needs to be mastered which begins to rear up and kick in rebellion.

But someone might say that even though the Law was good, it still brought about the sin we struggle with, so God never should have given it in the first place! Paul has anticipated our thoughts once again:

Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin.

Paul very clearly says it is not the Law and the knowledge of the Law that is the problem. It is an intruder that does not belong in us. It is the sin in us (something Paul will reiterate in just a moment). Please notice the way Paul talks about “sin.” It is in us and doing a work in us, but it is an intruder — it is not the truest true of who we are.

Paul says the Law is “of the spirit” — it is good and holy — but we are “of the flesh.” This is not some form of Gnostic dualism (something the whole book of Colossians will speak against), but a reference to two different natures that are in a struggle. While the Law is of God, we are “sold under sin” and find ourselves subject to the “flesh” (some translations will read “carnal”). The word being used in many of these conversations in the New Testament comes from the Greek root word sarx.

Sarx is a word that refers to our “beast-like nature” or our “animal appetites.” Many translations will often render the word as “sinful nature,” which is not at all what the word is trying to communicate — at least not as we understand the idea. Our “sinful nature” is not the result of original sin or the state of our depravity. Simply translated, the sarx is the animal appetites we were told about all the way back in the beginning of the story. In Genesis, we talked about what it meant to be made in the “image of God” and how the rabbis spoke of the fact that we are more than animals. What makes us different from the beasts is our ability to “know when to say enough.” Adam was warned, Eve was warned, and Cain was directly told that his task would be to master this part of himself — what we would later call in Greek, the sarx.

Listen to Paul describe this very battle:

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

As we listen to Paul, notice that his words do not describe what we teach in the theology of depravity or original sin. Paul says he does not do what he wants to do, but he does the very thing he hates. If Paul is depraved or full of original sin, then he should NOT want to do those things. But in fact, he does. Why? Because that is his true self. He will go on to say, “if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.”

Sin is the intruder, the part of us that is not true to who we really are. We are children of God, made in His image; we are so much more than mere beasts. And we are more than just tainted pieces of filth totally given to our selfishness and sinfulness. The sin is in us, but it is not us.

And yet, the battle is so very real! This is what it means to be human, to be running after God and letting Him teach us what it means to be fully human, full image-bearers, able to join God in His redemptive work by choosing when to say enough.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin.

And so again, we find Paul is not teaching some form of dualism — as if he longs to be rescued from his physical body. Again, he speaks of his sarx. He longs to be rescued from the struggle within his whole self. He serves God with his mind and will, but his “beast-nature” is still at work within him, serving the law of sin. But Paul rejoices that the life and death of Jesus has shown him a better way.

For it is not through a standard of morality or a system of rules that we will ever experience freedom from the struggle Paul describes, a struggle you and I know all too well. No, it is only through trusting in the promises of God, following in the example of the Christ, and displaying the faith of Jesus that we find a unique kind of victory and freedom — a life where this ongoing struggle does not lead to condemnation.

Wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t it be great if this struggle with our sarx didn’t always end with our own guilt and shame and the weight of the cry of rescue from our wretched selves? We pick up with this very hope in Romans 8.

ROMANS: A Dead Husband

In a very similar fashion to the book of Galatians, Paul begins to explain his theological premise “in human terms” and use an experience from their everyday context:

I am using an example from everyday life because of your human limitations. Just as you used to offer yourselves as slaves to impurity and to ever-increasing wickedness, so now offer yourselves as slaves to righteousness leading to holiness. When you were slaves to sin, you were free from the control of righteousness. What benefit did you reap at that time from the things you are now ashamed of? Those things result in death! But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Paul realizes the limitations of his metaphor (is slavery really the best way to understand our relationship with God?), and yet he also understands the metaphor’s ability to speak in the context of first-century Rome. We could certainly expand on this idea, but it would be beyond the scope of our work. Suffice it to say most scholars estimate that one out of every three people in the Roman empire were under some form of slavery.

Paul says when we live under fear and insecurity and the constant awareness of not “measuring up,” it is like being a slave to a horrible taskmaster. He asks, what benefit did you reap at that time…? Those things result in death! Paul continues to use this idea of working and wages, an idea started in chapter four, and it will culminate in Paul’s discussion here. It is in this very context our famous prooftext appears (“For the wages of sin is death…”). It becomes clear how often we rip that verse completely out of context and use it for purposes never intended by Paul.

Paul’s case is that when we live according to the lie of sin, the only thing we get in return is death. The paycheck earned at the end of a hard workday in the world of sin is paid from the Order of Death. But Paul has just finished saying we died to that old way of thinking! We don’t work for that old slave driver anymore! We have been raised to walk in a fresh, new light and with a new understanding — God desires to give us a gift, not a paycheck. This free gift is eternal life! This gift is accessible to all.

To make sure we understand that this slave nature — this old slave driver called Sin — has been put to death, Paul uses an additional example from their context:

Do you not know, brothers and sisters—for I am speaking to those who know the law—that the law has authority over someone only as long as that person lives? For example, by law a married woman is bound to her husband as long as he is alive, but if her husband dies, she is released from the law that binds her to him. So then, if she has sexual relations with another man while her husband is still alive, she is called an adulteress. But if her husband dies, she is released from that law and is not an adulteress if she marries another man.

So, my brothers and sisters, you also died to the law through the body of Christ, that you might belong to another, to him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit for God. For when we were in the realm of the flesh, the sinful passions aroused by the law were at work in us, so that we bore fruit for death. But now, by dying to what once bound us, we have been released from the law so that we serve in the new way of the Spirit, and not in the old way of the written code.

Paul says when a woman is married, she is bound to her husband legally, but when that husband dies, she is no longer legally bound. In very similar fashion to the taskmaster analogy, Paul says that old “husband” we were married to is dead. We are not bound to him anymore; we are free to marry a new husband. Of course, how silly it would be to try to be married to two husbands — one who is alive and another who is dead!

It is this old way of thinking — a way of thinking that says we have to work for our justification — which led to our sinful behavior. It’s an understanding built on fear. Whether we are a bunch of pagans who are afraid we might not experience all life has to offer, so we build ourselves up to be gods; whether we are “good people” who recognize a certain standard for morality; or whether we are deeply religious people who have been entrusted with the Law — if we think we are in need of meeting some standard of righteousness, it is this very standard that bears witness against us, reminding us we are not enough. It is this fear that drives us to a pervasive sinfulness (or at least an awareness of it).

But we have to let that way of thinking die.

Again, it will be important for us to realize that when Paul says these Jews (clearly Paul’s audience, again made obvious by the reference in the first line above) “died to the Law,” he is not saying they stopped observing the Law. What he is saying is that they stopped trying to find their justification in observing the Law, which was Paul’s argument back in chapter three. It’s the only interpretation consistent with Paul’s current argument, New Testament application, and Pauline theology as seen in the other letters.

But of course, as Paul usually does, he’s anticipated our question and is headed there next.

ROMANS: Buried Alive

We were left wondering if Paul’s assertion of the supremacy of grace was a dangerous license to sin. Paul now turns his attention to that nagging question:

What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?

Paul takes this fallacious line of thinking and shows it to be flawed. This amazing grace cannot be construed as a license to sin, for the very awakening to that grace was also a death to the kind of worldview that leads us to sin in the first place. Once we truly come to grasp and embrace this gospel of acceptance, we die to that former way of thinking — acting out of fear, preservation of self, and our unharnessed desires are replaced with a spirit of peace and a life of self-sacrifice. We die to that old way of thinking.

Paul then uses baptism as his picture and teaching point (to understand why Paul might use baptism at this point in his argument, I would recommend reading Elementary Principles by D. Thomas Lancaster; we will study this further in our upcoming look at the book of Hebrews).

We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.

For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his. For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin— because anyone who has died has been set free from sin.

Paul says that this baptism we undergo is a physical picture (among other things) that teaches us about the transformation taking place. Just as Jesus died, was buried, and then brought back to life, so there is a part of us that has been put to death so the truest part of us might live on. Baptism is this watery grave, an image of burial and resurrection, teaching us about this new life.

Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him. The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God.

We left our “old self” in the watery grave; it died a death and can be put to rest. We, however, live on. The part of us that lives on is the part of us being shaped into the image of Christ (and you might notice all of the language of “joining” and “with him” and “united”).

In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace.

This is where it really starts to sound like we are reading the culmination of one single narrative. This exhortation from Paul is nothing new at all. It takes us all the way back to the beginning of the story, where we meet Adam and Eve in the middle of the garden and are told about their temptations, their desires, and their invitation to demonstrate they are made in the image of God. They are invited to know when to say enough.

And so are we. Paul makes sure we know our invitation has not changed since the dawn of time; the language is incredibly similar to the language of Genesis. We are invited to trust the story, to master our desires, and to demonstrate self-control.

What then? Shall we sin because we are not under the law but under grace? By no means! Don’t you know that when you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey—whether you are slaves to sin, which leads to death, or to obedience, which leads to righteousness? But thanks be to God that, though you used to be slaves to sin, you have come to obey from your heart the pattern of teaching that has now claimed your allegiance. You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness.

Finally, Paul circles back to the question at hand. If grace is this good, should we just continue in our sin? Absolutely not! The truth is we will offer ourselves to one of two realities. We can live out our lives in service to fear or we can live out our lives in the service of trust, faith, and love. But a life of bland neutrality is not an option available to us. This gospel has come to rescue us and set us free from a life of servitude to fear and self-preservation; it has come to set us free to tzedekah — to righteousness, generosity, and self-sacrifice.

ROMANS: The Greatest "kal va'chomer"

Right after Paul makes his statement about Christ dying for “good men,” he goes on to employ another rabbinical teaching tool Jesus himself employed more than once. The tool is called a kal va’chomer and refers to the principle of “lesser and greater.” A rabbi will sometimes use this tool to make his point through juxtaposition; the idea is to point out a principle that is universally true by showing it is true in the simplest of circumstances. The teacher then proclaims that if such a truth is true in that situation, how much more it will be true in other situations.

A great example of this in Jesus’s teaching would be the persistent widow of Luke 18. She bugs the corrupt judge long enough that he gives in to her demand. Jesus is not saying the the judge allegorically represents God; Jesus is employing a kal va’chomer. He’s saying if a corrupt judge would give in to her persistent requests, how much more would God, who loves and cares for His children? Another example might be Luke 11:11–13, as well as many other teachings of Jesus.

It’s the phrase “how much more” that is translated from the Hebrew kal va’chomer. While Romans is written in Greek, the rabbinical teaching tool would be so well known by his Jewish audience (to whom he’s speaking, made obvious by chapters 2–3 and the distinction in chapter 11), they would certainly realize what he’s trying to do. Watch Paul employ the tool throughout the fifth chapter of Romans:

Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! Not only is this so, but we also boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation. 

Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned—

To be sure, sin was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not charged against anyone’s account where there is no law. Nevertheless, death reigned from the time of Adam to the time of Moses, even over those who did not sin by breaking a command, as did Adam, who is a pattern of the one to come. 

But the gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died by the trespass of the one man, how much more did God’s grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many! Nor can the gift of God be compared with the result of one man’s sin: The judgment followed one sin and brought condemnation, but the gift followed many trespasses and brought justification. For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ! 

Consequently, just as one trespass resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people. For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous. 

The law was brought in so that the trespass might increase. But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Honestly, I would recommend reading that through a few times — a couple of times to identify and notice the employment of the kal va’chomer, and a couple other times to appreciate the point Paul is trying to make. I have often taught this passage to my students and referenced it as the greatest kal va’chomer of all time.

Paul’s point is that sin has NOTHING on grace.

You think sin is a big deal? Grace is a bigger deal.

You think Adam screwed up the world? How much more did Jesus put it back together?

You think death can spread through our mistakes? Life can spread through grace and forgiveness exponentially.

The trespass can’t hold a candle to the Gift.

The failure of Adam is knocked out by the sacrifice of Jesus the moment the bell rings. It’s not even a fair fight.

“How much more?” How much more?

You can point out sin all day long, but grace outdoes it. So the more sin you point out, the bigger grace gets. Because grace is greater than sin.

This might make some of us nervous, because we might think this leads to a “no accountability, free-for-all” faith. But that’s where Paul sets his sights next.