As we ponder the four great chapters of Romans, chapters 5-8, we should be alert to a feature of Paul's method in writing Romans which, once seen, helps immensely in our understanding of his argument, especially when we come to a difficult passage like ch. 7. It is very simple. Paul regularly ends each paragraph with a summary statement which indicates in turn what he is going to develop next. So you always know where he is going.
In ch. 4 Paul was saying just one thing: that it is faith which relates us rightly to God. All he did in that chapter was establish the principle that faith is the means by which we are rightwised to Him. But Paul was very well aware that if such faith is to be awakened in us, there must be something there to inspire it: we must see clearly what it is we are trusting in.
What is it about God that makes us able to trust Him? That is the question Paul turns to now, and he introduces it in just the way we have indicated with the last verse of ch. 4 - the God we are to trust is the God "Who raised from the dead Jesus our Lord" … and here is the statement he will develop next … "who was delivered up to death by reason of our offences and raised up from death for our rightwising": that is the theme of ch. 5; it is about the connection Christ's death and resurrection have with our sin, and its removal as an obstacle to our fellowship with God.
The simple thrust of what Paul says is that what you see in it all is love … God's love … forgiving love … a love so real and deep and true you can trust it absolutely. All fear of God will disappear, He will become in fact our chiefest joy. There is where Paul gets in v. 11: not only is our fear of God and His wrath taken away: we positively rejoice in Him. And all this comes about "through Jesus Christ our Lord"; in Him we see the love God Himself has for us.
The key-word is love, and the Cross is the proof of it. This is the good news.
In vs. 1-5 Paul dwells on the benefits of being loved like this. Such is the love God bears us, it gives us peace, it gives us refuge, it gives us security, it gives us strength through joy, and it gives us hope. What more can we ask? Well-being (that is what the word 'peace' means); a real Friend who will always be there for us (that is what 'access to this grace' means); firm ground under our feet (that is what the phrase 'in which we stand' means); a joy that no-one and no crisis can ever take away from us (that is what it means that 'we rejoice even in our troubles'); strength to do and to endure because our whole life is illuminated by a shining hope - a hope we can embrace with complete abandon, so we do not have a care in the world!
Now all this blessedness is poured into our lives, he says in v. 5, by the Holy Spirit Who is God's gift to us.
This is only Paul's second reference to the Holy Spirit so far (the first was in 1:4 - the Spirit of Holiness who was active in the resurrection). How cheering it is that Paul introduces Him now as the One Whose whole task (which He relishes) is to fill us to bursting with love - God's love - and all its benefits. That is what the phrase 'poured into our hearts' means: the Greek word 'ekchein', suggests the lavishing of love, unstintingly, upon one in whom you take entire delight. Paul surely had in mind a passage from Isaiah when he wrote this. Let me paraphrase it:
"Thus says God, the Lord of all being, Who, having made you will be everything to you: 'Be afraid no more, for I have made you the apple of my eye. As I pour down water on a thirsty land, and make the desert run with rivers, so will I pour out over you the abundance of my loving, and the nourishment of my Spirit. As the earth, when the spring rains fall, burgeons with luxuriant growth, so will your lives burgeon with all things glad and good. You will be as willows planted by flowing streams. My love shall be all joy to you, so you rejoice to own me as a man rejoices to own a King who is his friend.'" (Isa. 44:2-5)
That is how God loves us. It stirs the heart to dream of it.
But is that all it is … a dream? How can we be sure God loves us like that? "It is no dream, it is reality," says Paul. "Let me show you the proof of it now, in the Cross."
In vs. 6-11, three themes are blended together, like the three lines of melody in a trio. Unfortunately, when we speak of them, we have to separate them out and hear them one at a time. Only on reflection afterwards can we blend them together in our mind so as to catch their full beauty. We have to do that for ourselves. The three strands of thought are these:
1. There is first the thought of the Lord laying down His life for us.
2. There is second the thought that He did this, not for His friends but for His enemies, to reconcile them.
3. And there is third the thought that its timing was critical, and highly significant. He did it ..."while we were yet helpless,"
"while we were yet sinners,"
"while we were enemies."
This element of timing Paul pins down with a phrase in v. 6 which is hard to translate. The RSV renders it as 'at the right time' - "at the right time Christ died for the ungodly." The phrase in the Greek, kata chairon, means,literally, 'according to time.' In other translations it is variously rendered as 'in due time,' 'at His appointed moment,' 'at the time God chose,' and so on. It is clearly an idiomatic phrase, and idioms are only really intelligible to those who speak a language as their native tongue. I have learned from Greek-speaking people that it survives into modern Greek, and that there is really not an English equivalent for it. As near as my informants could get was to say that it means 'timely.' It conveys the idea that the timing of an action is critical to its significance. It is almost an antonym of 'too late' or 'missed the boat.'
So let us try to come at an understanding of what Paul is really saying here.
Notice first that he appeals directly in these verses to our experience of human relationships. In v. 7, he is saying, "Ponder God's love in the light of your experience of human love. What motivates one man to lay down his life for another? Men don't willingly lay down their lives for just anybody - least of all for those who are hostile to them."
A person has to have a real hold on our affections before we will do that. Would we lay down our life for someone merely because they are a good-living person? Hardly. We just might do it, perhaps, for someone who has been especially good to us … that is the force of the word Paul uses in the second half of v. 7, agahou: it means 'a benefactor.' We have to value a friend above life before we will dream of losing our life for him. What a friend we must reckon him to be to do it!
"But," says Paul, "Christ laid down His life for those who were His enemies!" What sort of love is that? You only lay down your life for those you love! What in the world would motivate a man to lay down his life for his enemies?
Paul challenges us to think about this. So we shall.
How do things stand between two people when one of them is enemy to the other? Let us explore this a little.
Suppose I betray a friend. Suppose, to make sure he does not get a promotion I want, I whisper lies about him in the boss's ear. And suppose in consequence that not only do I get the job, but he gets the sack.
What happens after that … to me, first?
The first is that I experience guilt. I know that what I have done is wrong - terribly wrong.
And my feelings of guilt change the relationship between us … on my side. I cannot look my friend in the face now. I feel a need to avoid him.
Hard on the heels of my guilt, fear will come. What if he finds out?
I have to watch him. So my fear breeds suspicion. I watch his every move, looking for signs that he knows, and is out to 'get me.' The thought of him gives me no pleasure now like it used to once. In fact, I soon feel a positive dislike for him. I believe he is a threat to me; so I have to arm myself against this threat, or I am not safe. So I become hostile to him in my mind. Quite simply, my heart hardens against him till I become his enemy. Not by reason of anything he has done, but by reason of what I have done.
How can I put matters right between us? The longer I leave it the harder it gets, because the train of consequences for him goes on and on, until there is a mountain of harm he can blame me for, bigger than the wrong I did him in the first place; it grows and grows. I become more and more helpless to put things right between us.
Now this describes exactly the situation we are all in with God. By just such a process we all become His enemies.
Our lives are His gift to us, and we know we are answerable to Him for what we do with them. What have we done with them? Have we not betrayed His trust … using for our own selfish advantage gifts He trusted us with?
We are guilty. And because we are guilty, we are afraid. How can I face God? I can't - not because of anything He has done but because of what I have done. What will He do to me?
Fearing His wrath and condemnation, I feel a need to avoid Him. The thought of Him gives me no pleasure, as it ought. I feel distaste for Him. He represents a threat to me; so I have to keep Him at a distance, or I cannot feel safe. My heart hardens toward Him with every wrong I do, so I end up really at enmity with Him. I start blaming Him for all sorts of things that go wrong. How can I trust Him?
I know I am helpless to put matters right between us. What can I do? Live better tomorrow? But that will not wipe out what is done, any more than a swordsman's skill today will wipe out yesterday's scars.
"We are sinners", "we are helpless", "we are enemies" to God.
Paul's words describe our situation exactly.
Now notice something really important.
When we destroy fellowship and trust by our own wrongdoing we surrender the initiative to the person we have wronged. The possibility of us ever being friends again rests with them, and we know it. Whatever we may do, it rests with them how they respond. Even if I confess, even if I do truly repent, it is still up to them whether they accept my apology and decide to trust me again. I cannot make them do that.
Broadly speaking there are three ways my friend can react.
1. He may turn on me.
What I have done may turn his former love to
hate.
If that happens nothing I ever do can restore fellowship between
us.
2. He may nurse a grievance.
He may not become my enemy actively; he may, rather, simply maintain an aggrieved silence, feeling too offended to make any move to restore our friendship. He will say things like: "He did the wrong, not I. It's up to him to apologise. After what he's done to me, he needn't think I'll go running after him."
We may think that is a very understandable reaction. So perhaps it is. But understand what it means. It means that his own hurt and feeling of outrage is a bigger thing with him than friendship with me. If he stands on his dignity with icy aloofness, it means he is more concerned with his own hurt than he is for me. He values his wounded dignity more than my friendship. Even if I try to put matters right … by owning up, and apologising, and even trying to put right the wrong I have done, he may not really have it in him to respond any more.
If the best he can manage is to say, "OK. We'll call it quits. But don't expect me ever to trust you again," then we are not reconciled. We are not friends again. All we have achieved is a truce, not a reconciliation. Nothing has been healed. However much I may want to be friends with him again the way we used to be, there is no hope of that unless he wants it too. If he does want it, he will have to soak up all the hurt I have done him and not hold it against me. He will have to really forgive me. That is not easy. It is a costly thing. He has to swallow all the hurt and loss and put it away from between us entirely (it has to die in him), and love and trust me like he did before.
But … if he cares for me enough really to want that, he will not wait for me to apologise to him.
3. He will come first to me.
That is the third way he may react.
He will not wait for my repentance; by seeking me out he will hope to induce it. If he realises that I am paralysed by my guilt and my fear, he will know that I need some sign from him, first, that he wants the whole sorry business put behind us and forgotten so we can get back to where we were.
To pave the way to reconciliation, he must make the first move.
And he must make it in time. The longer he leaves it, the harder my heart will grow, and the harder it will be for him to break through the barrier my fear and suspicion raises against him. He has to act 'kata chairon' If he does, he will convince me that he still does really want my friendship, in spite of all I have done.
And if (to push this exercise to its limit), to make that approach to me he has to brave my hostility (because I at first misunderstand his purpose, thinking it is revenge he wants, not reconciliation) and I strike out, let us suppose, and kill him, then I shall wake up to find that I have killed the very love that might have released me from my guilt.
This is exactly what Jesus did!
He died at the hands of His enemies while He was seeking them to convey God's forgiveness. They mistook His motive, and killed Him while He was doing it. And even as they drove the nails into His wrists, their forgiveness and reconciliation was all His desire - even then!
To stand before the Cross, therefore, is to realise that I have slain the only love that can release me from all my guilt.
Ah … but we did not kill it!
Jesus was "delivered up to death by reason of our offences," yes … but "He was raised again for our rightwising." He was raised up so that He might come to us again … and again and again … with the same love, seeking reconciliation. He died bearing our sins; He lives to convey to us God's forgiveness of them and reunite us with Him. So Paul says, "If, while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by His life." (v. 10) The Christ who died for my sins lives to love me still.
And in that love, and the forgiveness it conveys, there is release for me from the guilt of all my past, and an opened future of total security in His love. I am loved past death … into all eternity.
And He came to me, while I was 'helpless.' It was 'while we were yet sinners,' 'while we were yet helpless,' 'while we were enemies' that He came to us through the rain of blows our sins inflict upon Him, laying down His life for us. He has made the first move. He has moved toward us before we could move toward Him. He came 'kata chairon' - in time. He has not missed the boat.
That He comes seeking us before we have acknowledged our sin, that He lays down His life for us before we have repented, is the proof of His love.
His love breaks through even His own wrath with us in our sin to bring us forgiveness for it. (This is what we saw the crucial paragraph in 3:23-26 to mean.) He loves us with a love that far surpasses any merely human love.
Now there is one last thing to see.
It is as God that He did this. "God," says Paul, "shows His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."
The love for us that is in Christ's heart is His Father's love - the very same love. The love my sin has wounded is God's love, incarnate in the heart of Jesus. The love that seeks me to reconcile me is God's love, seeking me in Jesus. The love that bears my sin at the Cross, and puts my sin away when I repent of it, is God's love. That is why Paul ends this paragraph with a shout of joy: "We rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have received our reconciliation." (v. 11)
In that reconciliation with God there is total freedom for us - freedom from our past, freedom from our guilt, freedom from our fear, freedom from our helplessness, freedom to love, freedom to hope again, and rejoice.
Like Paul, I do beseech you, be reconciled to God.
Think those three strands of thought together again.
• The Lord laid down His life for you.
• He did it while you were still His enemy.
• And He did it in time - He did it 'kata chairon.'
The Cross is the proof of God's love.
The joyous New Testament affirmation that we may be so relieved of guilt as to enjoy a clear conscience needs a little exposition if it is to be understood as the Bible tells it.
i. Guilt
A distinction must be made between feelings of guilt and the condition of guilt. There is a difference. People can feel guilty about things that are not wrong at all … and feel no guilt about things that are.
What constitutes guilt is the having to be faced with what we have done.
Note that it is a condition we can be in without feeling it. I may, for example, exceed the speed limit on the highway without realising I am doing it. I do not feel guilty at all at the time. But if a traffic cop catches me and books me, I shall know I am guilty. Some feel no guilt even then! But it changes nothing: guilty they are, because they have to answer for it. Our feelings have very little to do with it. It is our condition that matters, not our feelings. We have to face the music, however we feel.
Guilt, then, is the condition of having to answer for what we have done.
ii. Conscience
We need also to be clear what conscience is. We may define it as that part of our person where guilt registers.
This is where our feelings do come in. It is when our conscience registers that we feel guilty; it is in our conscience that we are aware of what we have to answer for.
Now this can bring us into a state of confusion. We can feel guilt about things that are not wrong at all; and we can feel no guilt at all about things that are. The only way to know what we should feel guilty about is to know what we shall have to answer for to God. That is what real guilt is - the condition of having to answer to God for what we have done. Only God can tell us what is really wrong … not our parents, not our school teachers, not even our church - only God. There are parents who teach their children to steal. Those children grow up believing there is nothing wrong with stealing. But there is … because God says so. He alone is the final shaper of morals. What is really right is whatever is in harmony with His character and purpose, what is really wrong is whatever is not. For God is the world's creator: having put Himself into what He made, the world is grounded down morally on His character - everything in the world takes its true character from Him. His mind on right and wrong is the only one that finally matters therefore.
So real guilt is the condition of having to answer to God for what we have done; conscience is where it registers.
And it is to God, finally, that we must answer for all that we have done. Though my sin may be against a fellow creature, it is to God I must for it because my fellow creature belongs to Him - as you would have me, their father, to answer to you if you harmed one of my children. He only has the right and the power to pass final judgment and sentence on us; in the end only His judgment and sentence count.
Now if He should say to us, "All your sins I fully, freely and finally forgive. I put them away from between us, so as not to hold them against you" (in Bible language, "He does not count our trespasses against us"), then we no longer have to answer for them. If God says, "I release you," then released we are. We no longer have to answer for what we have done. Our guilt is thereby removed; and being removed, it no longer registers in conscience. A good conscience is to know we can front up to God and not be condemned; a bad conscience is to know we cannot. We can face Him with a good conscience. It is to that very confidence, indeed, that the Christian gives expression in his baptism, as Peter affirmed. (I Peter 3:21 … it is "the appeal of a good conscience toward God.")
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