Why Paul Wrote Romans

Romans 15.14-33

When If you're joining us for the first time this morning, welcome. We are almost at the end of the letter to the Romans, which we have been thinking about for over a year. 

Here is our question this morning: what would be the sign that we had understood Romans? How would it show that we understood the message of this letter ? In other words, if its author, Paul, had a time machine and he came to visit us, what impact would he want to see on us?

That Romans had a great impact on history is undeniable . For those who are interested in these things

Last Tuesday was ... Reformation Day . 506 years since the German , Martin Luther, nailed his 95 theses to the door of Wittenberg Cathedral ; Martin Luther whose theology had an enormous impact ... and whose starting point was a verse from Romans

. 1000 years before Luther, an Algerian named Augustine was converted thanks to a verse from Romans before becoming one of the greatest Christian thinkers in history .

200 years after Luther , John Wesley , a great evangelist in England and America , was also converted thanks to Romans .

In our French-speaking world, the Swiss François Godet wrote that “ it is probable that any great spiritual renovation in the Church will always be linked … to a deeper understanding of this writing . ”
Maybe this is confirmed for us . We can think of specific encouragements that Romans gave us this year .

But what would be the sign that we had really understood his message?

Let us remember the major themes .

Realism about what is wrong with our world - the problem of sin and the wrath of God . Having this realism , is that the sign that we have understood Romans ?

Is it the fact of feeling reassured and grateful to Jesus ? He solved the problem of sin . _ _ We have nothing more to fear. We know that we are at peace with God, we are his adopted children, he loves us with a love from which nothing can separate us . We have every reason in the world to feel reassured and grateful to Jesus ! 

Is this the sign that we have understood?

Is this more obedience to God ? Obedience is the logical response to what Jesus did . _ Paul calls it our reasonable worship. 

Is this the sign that we have understood Romans?

is it that we are becoming more welcoming - the theme of the last few weeks . Know how to welcome people with different opinions on aspects of Christian life .

Somehow we have to say yes and amen to all that ! If after a year in Romans, we are more realistic , more grateful, more obedient and more welcoming ... great ! Thank you Lord ! It was n't wasted time!

However ... if we leave it there , it seems to me that the apostle Paul would say ... that we have not yet completely understood ... where he was coming from .  

As we will see this morning, the sign that we have understood in Rome is that we are burning with a passion for what Adalberto, Josh and Stéphanie have just spoken to us about - the mission - in the first place. s and far away!

I suggest to you that this is what Paul wrote Romans for . To strengthen us, so that we can commit side by side to the proclamation of the good news throughout the world . We will see that this is something that concerns us all, whether we are in Romania, Togo or Paris .

Small parentheses . Our conviction is that God speaks to us today in the Bible.

To understand what God wants to tell us, we must try to understand the situation in which different books of the Bible were written and what prompted the authors to take up their pen and write .

This is why we will spend a lot of time this morning trying to understand in what situation Paul wrote Romans.

He talks a lot about his travels. We can ask ourselves: what link with us today ? In fact, reflecting on your travels is the key to understanding what God wants to say to us . 

So what impact is Romans supposed to have?

Before telling us what his purpose was in writing Romans , Paul tells us in this text what his purpose was not in writing it .

First point

Paul did not write to solve problems

Not mainly, anyway.

Verse 14 - follow with me 

I myself am satisfied about you, my brothers, that you yourselves are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge and able to instruct one another.

I said earlier that several great figures in history discovered the true Christian faith thanks to Romans . _ It 's super encouraging to read their testimonies .

Perhaps for some of us , Romans played a role in our conversion . This is the case for my wife for example. She read the first chapter which describes our rejection of God. She said to herself : That ’s me. It was an important step in his journey.

Romans offers us one of the most complete presentations of the Christian good news in the entire Bible and therefore as a starting point for discovering the Christian faith , it 's great.

Not to convert them

But it is striking to see that Paul did not write this letter to convert the Romans. They already were . _ _ _ Paul calls them “ my brothers and sisters ”

Sometimes we give the impression that the message of the gospel is the gateway to Christian life . Sin , forgiveness , faith in Jesus - all this is the starting point . Then we move on to something else.

Paul disagrees . He wrote this letter, which talks a lot about the ' fundamentals ' of the Christian faith ... to people who already believed .

Paul did not write to convert the Romans; nor did he write to correct them.

Not to correct them

Some have imagined that the Church of Rome was a problematic church . Maybe they still had a lot of misconceptions and that 's why Paul wrote such a long letter . Others thought that it was a divided church , with factions, Jewish and non-Jewish in particular, and that Paul was writing to them so that they would put their differences aside .

This passage suggests the opposite.

Paul says that he is “ personally convinced that [the Romans were ] full of good disposition, filled with all knowledge, and able to warn one another. “

This church was fine! They were solid, filled with all knowledge. If ever there were small disagreements between them, they knew how to warn each other. They were fine and Paul did not write to correct them.

I 've already heard people say, ' Yes , but maybe verse 14 is just a bit of an English saying . Paul flatters them to make things easier by reproaching them .

Paul was n't like that . Paul weighed his words. When he says they were fine and did n't need to be corrected , he means it .

In saying that , if we discovered from Romans that we needed to correct certain ideas about God or put aside certain differences - so much the better ! Just because the Romans didn't need to be corrected does n't mean I don't need to be ! I think of several slaps that I have received even in recent weeks thanks to Romans .

Still, Paul 's ultimate goal in Romans was not to answer problems .

What was his ultimate goal?
Paul did not write to solve problems ...

 2. Paul wrote to recruit partners 

The purpose of Romans , its ultimate goal, is that we mobilize as partners in the mission - that is to say , the proclamation of the good news of Jesus to the extremities of the earth. 

Verse 14 again

14 I myself am satisfied about you, my brothers, that you yourselves are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge and able to instruct one another. 15 But on some points I have written to you very boldly by way of reminder, because of the grace given me by God 16 to be a minister of Christ Jesus to the Gentiles in the priestly service of the gospel of God, so that the offering of the Gentiles may be acceptable, sanctified by the Holy Spirit.

When people ask me what I do for a living and I say that I'm a pastor, one of the questions I'm asked most often is: therefore, you don't have the right to get married. Yes, if I am a pastor, not a priest ! For the Roman Catholic Church, a priest is truly in a different category from other Christians .

This is not the case for a pastor. Protestants say that, on the one hand , our only priest is Jesus ; on the other hand, since we all serve God, all Christians are priests .

It may therefore surprise us that Paul describes himself as ... a priest !

Paul the priest

 Look again at verse 16 . He carries out the “ priestly service ” of preaching the Gospel . He seeks to present to God a pleasing offering . He desires that this offering become holy through the action of the Holy Spirit. He 's a kind of priest !

In the Old Testament, a priest offered sacrificial animals in the temple. Have you noticed what Paul is offering? People ! In particular, people of non -Jewish origin. 

The goal of his ministry is to present as an offering to God ... people ... from all the nations of the earth.

I don't know what you think about that! If you are like me, you may find the image disturbing . I do n't want to be compared to a slaughtered ox or goat dripping with blood .

Please change your image Paul! But in fact this idea should not surprise us because we have already encountered it . In Romans 12, Paul encouraged us , through the mercies of God, to offer our bodies as a living sacrifice. That is to say , to dedicate our whole life to the service of God.

That ’s what it ’s like to be a Christian . Grasp what Jesus' sacrifice accomplished for us, and offer ourselves to God as a living sacrifice, a pleasing offering , in response .

This is true worship. This is our reasonable, logical worship - offering our body to God, since Jesus offered his body for us. The idea of being an offering is not new . The question is why does Paul bring it up again? Did he think the Romans weren't yet enough of an offering ? Did they need a little encouragement to be better sacrifices?

I do not think so.

When Paul says that he wrote to them “ as if to awaken their memories because of the grace which God gave him to be a servant of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles , ” he is not Don't think about the non-Jews in Rome who already believed in . He thinks of those further than Rome who did not yet believe.

Paul was writing to the Christians in Rome , because they were looking beyond Rome to the vast territories populated by people not yet saved

To put it another way, Paul was not just a priest . He was also a pioneer.

Paul the Pioneer 

Verse 17

17 In Christ Jesus, then, I have reason to be proud of my work for God. 18 For I will not venture to speak of anything except what Christ has accomplished through me to bring the Gentiles to obedience—by word and deed, 19 by the power of signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God—so that from Jerusalem and all the way around to Illyricum I have fulfilled the ministry of the gospel of Christ; 20 and thus I make it my ambition to preach the gospel, not where Christ has already been named, lest I build on someone else’s foundation, 21 but as it is written, “Those who have never been told of him will see, and those who have never heard will understand.”

I don't know if there are among us ski enthusiasts crazy enough to enjoy going off-piste. Personally I don't have the level. The only time I tried , I got stuck in a tree. Some people love it . Get off the beaten track to discover virgin terrain , where no one has yet skied .

It was a bit like Paul 's approach . Not with regard to skiing - to my knowledge, he has never done it - but with regard to his ministry . Christ had made him a pioneer who announced the gospel in virgin territory, where Christ had not yet been proclaimed . He says his ministry consisted of “ bringing non-Jews to obedience , that is to say , to lead people of all nations, through the gospel , to bow the knee before King Jesus , or to use the image from a moment ago, to offer oneself to God as a pleasant offering .

Paul was a priest ... pioneer ... that Jesus had sent so that people everywhere would become living sacrifices to the glory of God.

Already , that 's something to wonder about . If what we learn from Romans is that we must offer our body as a living sacrifice to God, that's good!

But for Paul, it still doesn't go far enough! It was n't just his little person that Paul wanted to offer to God ... it was the whole world! He didn't say to himself : I have my faith, I have my worship of God, but it 's private , it only concerns me, and I'm not going to bother others with it .

Paul understood that Jesus deserves the world. At the time of writing , he had traveled through Cyprus , several regions of Turkey, Macedonia , Greece , the Balkans, and he never apologized for believing that Jesus died . the obedience and adoration of the inhabitants of all these countries .

On the contrary. He saw his duty to bring them to obedience . Ah, someone will say , isn’t that a bit imperialist ? A little intolerant ? By what right could he say that all these people, who already had their beliefs , had to believe in Jesus ?

But Paul was not an imperialist . He had simply understood that if Jesus created the world and all those who inhabit it , and that he died for the world and all those who inhabit it , then the world and all those who inhabit it are for him.

We can sometimes feel uncomfortable talking about Jesus with people who believe something else . Your Muslim colleague . Your atheist neighbor . The animist Togolese that Josh and Stéphanie will meet.

What right do we have to tell them to believe in Jesus ?

The reality is that your colleagues , your neighbors and all the inhabitants of the earth were created by Jesus and for Jesus , it is not normal that they do not worship Jesus . Jesus deserves the world . Paul had this role of pioneer, because he understood this.

Have we understood this?

But for this pioneering ministry …

Paul was looking for partners for the next phase

Verse 22

This is the reason why I have so often been hindered from coming to you. But now, since I no longer have any room for work in these regions, and since I have longed for many years to come to you, I hope to see you in passing as I go to Spain…

Paul had just spent 10 years preaching the gospel and planting churches from Jerusalem to Illyria - what we today call the Balkans, countries like Croatia , Bosnia. 

At the time of writing Romans, his pioneering work was finally finished in the east , and he was preparing for what followed in the west .

This is what actually explains his trip to Jerusalem which he mentions in verse 25.

Paul's ultimate destination is Spain . We kind of want to say to him: Paul, if you are in Greece ( where he wrote Romans ) and you want to go to Spain, Jerusalem ... it 's not really on the way ! Another meaning Paul, another meaning! But Paul goes to Jerusalem , to bring to the poor money collected from the churches he had established , precisely to close the first phase of his mission . As if he were saying: look! Peter, James, John , you who are in Jerusalem , where it all began , look at what the gospel has produced !

These non-Jews, who were dirty pagans , became living sacrifices who love you and wanted to help you ... and all that ... thanks to the proclamation of the gospel !

It 's a bit like someone who starts producing wine , who toils all year round , who spends all their time there. His family doesn't really know what it will be like but at the end of the year he brings them a bottle, they taste it ... and it 's delicious .

If this is the fruit of your work, you must continue.

This is why Paul makes this trip to Jerusalem . To say ' look what the gospel has produced! The first phase of my mission is mission accomplished! Let's prepare for the next phase - Spain . '

Because preparing for this next phase ... that 's why Paul wrote Romans.

Verse 23 again

But now, since I no longer have any room for work in these regions, and since I have longed for many years to come to you, I hope to see you in passing as I go to Spain, and to be helped on my journey there by you, once I have enjoyed your company for a while.

Paul wrote Romans so that the Church of Rome would commit itself to his side to help him bring the gospel to virgin territory.

Help him financially . _

Help him logistically.

Help him by praying.

Help him by accompanying him in the field.

The goal of Romans is to mobilize for the mission. The sign that we have understood this is that we too are mobilizing . Let us consider ourselves partners fighting side by side in the great mission of the gospel .

Joe , are you saying that Romans, with all its richness and depth, amounts to a fundraising letter ?

When we depend on donations to fund a Christian ministry , we write letters to potential donors talking about our ministry and asking for money .

We often feel a little embarrassed to ask for money , so we talk about everything we do and why it 's important - we post nice photos - and then at the end we slip in a little word to say ' by the way, could you support us? '

Am I saying that Romans is it ? A letter requesting support?

No.

Romans is Paul's masterful defense of the mission of the gospel to the nations . He begins by evoking a duty towards all, civilized or not, wise or ignorant, which comes from the fact that the gospel is the power of God for the salvation of all those who believe. 

In the first half of the letter, he explains everything that this mission to the nations produces for the nations. To be justified , sanctified , assured of one's salvation, loved , glorified . In the second half , he explains how this mission to the nations helps Israel too . His point is to say that only the announcement of the gospel to the world can create a new humanity blessed by God and which obeys God .

He spends 15 chapters showing it , then he asks: did you understand that ? Get involved with me!

And friends, if during this year in Romans we have understood something of the goodness of the gospel , let us mobilize too. The sign that we have understood where Paul was coming from is that we adopt his mission as our mission.

Rome was the center of the world in the first century . All roads led to Rome. His church was perfectly placed to shine in Europe , Asia and Africa. We who are in the center of Paris are also well placed to shine in France and, thanks to the very international character of our assembly , well beyond .

The needs are enormous . Let 's start with our city.

You may be familiar with the statistics. It is estimated that for every person in France to have a realistic opportunity to hear the gospel , there would need to be one evangelical church for every 10,000 inhabitants.

In Paris, there is one for 25,000. We must support the establishment of new churches . There will be more to say on this in the coming months.

Other regions of France are even less well off . The Pays de la Loire. Overseas, Mayotte. Not to mention the needs elsewhere in the French-speaking world.

As in Paul's time, the unreached or barely reached regions are numerous. So am I saying that we should all drop our work tomorrow, take a one-way ticket to Timbuktu and go preach in the streets there ? Or do we all have to make the same choice as Adalberto, Miranda, Josh and Stephanie?

No, even though there are probably people in this room to whom God has given gifts to proclaim the gospel and access to certain cultures who should at least ask themselves the question of whether the mission abroad or in other regions of France is for them .

But for most of us , that 's not what we're going to do. For us what is needed is a change in mentality .

Do we have this desire not only to be living sacrifices, but also to see other people, near and far, also become living sacrifices to the glory of God?

We need a mentality that unites adoration and mobilization for evangelization and mission . John Piper says the highest purpose of the church is not mission, it is worship . If mission exists, it is because worship does not exist.

In the light of Romans, one would say that he is right.

Jesus deserves the world . If we adore Jesus , let us aim to lead others to adore him too . Near and far.

Perhaps you wouldn't introduce yourself as a Christian this morning and wonder what relevance any of this has to me? I would like to tell you that we are delighted that you are here . 

The relevance is enormous . This mission exists because God came to seek out people who were far from him to offer them true life . If you want to know more about this true life , reading for yourself this book, Romans in the Bible, would be a good place to start .

For the rest of us, all this means that Connexion Church does not exist just for her. There is a danger for a church to become turned in on itself . 

Having a missionary mentality implies being outward - looking , ambitious to see the gospel advance , including in virgin lands, and to support its progress through our words, our prayers and our doors. -currencies.

To the extent that we are already ' among the nations ' here in Paris , we all have a role to play so that the gospel is proclaimed wherever God has placed us . Our French, Malagasy, Cameroonian friends , and so on, are all part of what God calls “ the nations ”

And even if we will not all be pioneers who set off into unknown lands, we are all partners called to support those who are.

There is a story told about William Carey, who is sometimes called the father of modern missions. William Carey had shared his desire to proclaim the gospel in India with the newly founded Baptist Missionary Society . 

He was told : “ There is a gold mine in India; but it seems as deep as the center of the earth; who will venture to explore it?”

Carey replied : “ I will go … but remember you have to hold the rope. ”

Wouldn't it be a beautiful thing if Connexion Church was both a William Carey church and also a church that held the rope for others .

It would be expensive . This would involve putting money behind projects of which we do not know how long they will bear fruit . It would involve saying goodbye to friends. For some, it would mean being the friends to whom we say goodbye.

But it is a cost that we will agree to pay if we are animated by this vision - Jesus deserves the world .

The apostle Paul, we don't know if he ended up going to Spain or not . What we know is that when he returned to Jerusalem he was arrested and that when he arrived in Rome a few years later , it was as as a prisoner.

Was he able to leave for Spain afterwards ? Some think yes, some think no, and it doesn't matter! Because someone did it . For what ? Because the message of Romans has been understood .

A missionary mentality was adopted , people mobilized , a partnership was forged and the gospel was proclaimed to unknown lands .

And U.S ? Did we understand?

As Christ Has Welcomed You

Romans 15.1-13

When we began Connexion in 2014, one of the most consistent things people said about the church is that they came once because a friend invited them, and they kept coming back because of how they were welcomed. We were a much smaller church back then—for the first year, there were about thirty of us—and we held our services in the afternoons. After service, everyone walked back to the apartment where Loanne, Jack and I lived and had dinner together. We spent a lot of time together, and everyone was invited.

That became impossible to maintain pretty quickly: thirty people in our tiny apartment was unsustainable. And yet, we (and by “we” I mean you, the people who were here at the time) found ways to keep making people feel welcome. The welcome team here does an incredible job every week, not just setting things up, putting out coffee and tea, handling the logistics of the service, but also doing everything they can to make sure when people walk in the door, they are welcomed. I’m so grateful for the work they do, because it’s thankless and incredibly important.

That said, the fact that they do such a good job might give us the impression it’s the team’s job to welcome people. And it also might give us the impression that that’s all “welcoming” is: serving coffee and saying hello and making sure people get integrated into the church.

Welcoming people in the church is not only for the welcome team; it is not just serving coffee and getting people integrated; and it is not only geared towards people coming for the first time. All of us are called to welcome, and all of us—even those of us who have been here for years—need to be welcomed. Because it’s much bigger than what happens when you first join a church.

Essentially, this is what the apostle Paul has been bringing us toward throughout this entire letter.

In chapters 1-8, he talks about the gospel: how it works, how it applies, exactly what Christ did to save people who have sinned against him. (And if it’s your first time, just a reminder: when we talk about “sin,” we’re essentially talking about rebellion against God: our desire to be our own masters rather than letting our Creator rule over us.)

Then in chapters 9-11, Paul took everything he said before and showed how it applies to the particular people groups he’s been writing to: the Christians in the church in Rome, who were a mix of people from both Jewish and Gentile origins. He says that the gospel—the proclamation of the good news of Jesus Christ—is not only for the Jews, but also for the Gentiles. These two groups that had been historically separated from one another (the Jews being “the people of God”, and the Gentiles being “everyone else”), Christ has brought together into one body, through his life, death and resurrection.

Then, starting in chapter 12, Paul zoomed way in, showing us what difference this unity makes on the ground—in the church and in the world. Paul ended chapter 14 by showing that those Christians who are more mature in their faith should sacrifice their own preferences for their weaker brothers and sisters in Christ: to not do anything that would make obedience difficult for others down the line, even if the thing in question isn’t sinful at all. It’s more important to love your brother, and make obedience easier for him, than doing whatever it is you want to do at that time.

That’s where we are at the beginning of chapter 15, and here, Paul’s going to start zooming back out again. He’s going to take what he said in chapters 12-14 and show how all of this practical obedience is actually rooted in something deeper. Essentially, Paul is going to bring us back to the same place he left us at the end of chapter 11: we’re going back to the big picture. And in that big picture, he’s going to point us to Christ, showing how Christ served us, so that we might understand how to serve one another, and why.

Christ Took Responsibility for Our Failings (v. 1-3)

He begins by continuing his thought from the end of chapter 14. This is similar to what he was saying before—about how we must be patient with the differences of opinions we might have, and sacrifice what we want for what will help our brother and sister grow. But here he makes it more explicit, and takes it even further. V. 1:

We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. 2 Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up. 3 For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, “The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me.”

Now on the surface it seems like he’s saying exactly the same thing as last week—but there are some notable differences. First, he says we aren’t just to bear with the opinions of our brothers and sisters in the church, which we might not agree with, but with their failings, with their weaknesses. (Literally translated, he says we must bear with “the weaknesses of the powerless”, or “those who lack power”.) He’s not trying to create several different “classes” of Christians (it’s not the strong versus the weak); he’s merely stating a fact, and that fact makes total sense. I’m stronger than my son, not because I’m better, but because I’m older. He’s eleven, I’m forty-two, so I’m bigger than him; I can do things he can’t. In the same way, a Christian who has faithfully followed Christ for years will naturally be “stronger” than someone who met Christ last week—they’re not better, but the new Christian simply hasn’t had time to grow yet.

So we who are strong must “bear with” the weaknesses of our brothers and sisters. (And that goes both ways: we all have areas of strengths and weakness we need help with.) So far, that might not seem surprising—like he’s saying, “Be patient with one another, and love one another despite your weaknesses.” That’s not wrong, but he’s saying a lot more than that.

Two things show us that “bearing with” each other’s weaknesses is more than simple patience. The first is the word “please”—what does it mean to “please” your neighbor? If Paul is commanding me to do whatever makes you happy, then I’m in trouble: what if what makes you happy, in the short term, is horrible for you? What if I have two neighbors, and they both want two opposite things? We can’t “please” everyone all the time.

But the context reminds us that’s not what he’s talking about. Firstly, he tells us the goal : we are to please our neighbor for his good, to build him up. So “pleasing” here doesn’t mean making our neighbor happy, but rather doing what contributes to their good and their growth in the faith.

He’s making a contrast in v. 1, saying that we are called to act for our neighbor instead of acting for ourselves—we are to put them first, instead of ourselves.

Which brings us to the second way he shows us what it means to “bear with” each other’s weaknesses: we bear with each other’s weaknesses, instead of seeking to please ourselves, because this is how Christ acted toward us.

In verse 3, when Paul says, as it is written, “The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me,” he’s quoting Psalm 69.9. In Psalm 69, David is talking to God, saying that those around him who hate God also hate David, because of his clear association with God. They hate God, so they attack David. They’re wrong to do so, but it doesn’t matter: in their minds, David and God cannot be disassociated.

You see, it’s not so much a question of consequence, but of identification. David was identified with God so deeply that when his enemies wanted to attack God, they came after David. In the same way, Christ identified with his people so completely that when God’s righteous wrath was poured out against our sin, it fell on Christ instead of us.

When Christ was crucified, what did he do? He united himself to his people to such an extent that he took responsibility for sins he did not commit. He had committed no sin, and wasn’t remotely guilty of anything we have done or will ever do. Even so, he took responsibility for our sin, and endured the punishment for our sin, in our place.

Christ identified with us so completely that he bore with our failings—he took responsibility for us, though he wasn’t responsible for our sin.

This is a model for us—again, not of consequence, but of identification. We are not responsible for the weaknesses of our brothers and sisters; but we can—and we are called to—take responsibility for one another. To “bear with” the failings of the weak means to take on ourselves the work it will require to help someone grow from weak to strong.

When Loanne and I got married, I was still very much a kid—I hadn’t yet learned to be a responsible adult. I had significant debt from the two years I’d spent at university in the U.S., and I hadn’t been making my payments. When we got married, Loanne had to “bear with” my failings in this regard. She shared in the consequences of my lack of responsibility. She taught me to pay my loan payments, to do basic things that adults need to do (and trust me, that learning process was painful for both of us).

If we are in Christ, we are no longer separate from one another: weak or strong, we are all members of the same body. So we who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak: if they don’t grow, the whole body is weakened. We share in that responsibility.

The great news here—the humbling news—is that this is nothing new. In calling us to bear with one another’s failings, and not just our successes, God isn’t asking us to do anything he hasn’t already done himself. Identifying with God’s people to such an extent is scary and painful and hard, but God has always been faithful to fulfill his promises and accomplish his good plans for his people. Christ is the proof of that: foretold in the Old Testament, fulfilled in the New.

Christ Unites Us by His Word (v. 4-6)

And this is where Paul goes next. It’s a bit of an aside from his main argument, but it’s an important one. He’s widening the scope once again: we take responsibility for one another because Christ took responsibility for us. In doing so, he fulfilled what was written about him centuries earlier, the prophecies with which the Jews had lived their whole lives. V. 4:

4 For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.

Notice the “for” at the beginning of v. 4: he’s referring to what he’s just said in v. 3. When Paul quotes Psalm 69 in v. 3, he’s bringing the Romans back to Scripture, reminding them that what David wrote isn’t just an interesting coincidence. The Old Testament constantly anticipates, or explicitly foretells, the person and the work of Jesus Christ.

Why is this so important? Because if we know that God has fulfilled his promises before, we’ll have the assurance that he will continue to fulfill his promises in the future.

There are many things that Scripture prophesies, that have already taken place. The life, death and resurrection of Christ. The inclusion of the Gentiles into God’s plan. The outpouring of the Holy Spirit. We could keep going. These are things which, for the Christians in Rome at the time, were done—they were past fulfillments of the promises of Scripture.

But there are many other prophecies in Scripture which haven’t yet occurred. The return of Christ. The new heavens and the new earth. We still have an incredible number of promises for which we are still waiting today.

If God fulfilled his promises in the past, he will keep fulfilling his promises in the future. But in order to have that assurance, we need to understand what those promises are—what God’s character is like, what his plan is, what he wants for his people.

All of these things and more, we find in the Scriptures, the Word that God gave to his people for their instruction. This Word—which we find in the sixty-six books of the Bible—instructs us for three reasons, which we find in v. 4.

Firstly, it exists to help us endure. A lot of us count on our own feelings to help us endure. It’s easy to persevere in our faith when we really want to, and when our situation is making endurance easy. It’s not difficult to persevere when you’ve had a good night’s sleep, you’re well fed and you’re walking at a comfortable pace.

But there will be times when our feelings will pull us in the opposite direction. There will be times, like the times the Romans were living in, when we will feel like God’s plan has derailed. We may feel persecuted, not victorious. We may endure suffering rather than ease. We may feel like all of our prayers are bouncing off the ceiling. We may feel far from God. In these periods, in these moments, we must persevere, and we cannot trust in our feelings to get us there, because much of the time our feelings are begging us to just lie down and sleep.

The only thing which will allow us to persevere in that kind of a situation is the Word of God, because it is objective. It is written in black and white, we can hold it before our eyes, and we can see that what was written thousands of years ago was fulfilled. We can see the promises of God for his people, and we can look back at our own lives and see that—no matter what I’m feeling right now—God did these things for me. We can look back at events in our lives and remember that that did what God said he would do.

No matter how we’re feeling, if God fulfilled his promises in the past, he will fulfill his promises in the future. So we can persevere. We can keep going. Because we know that no matter what we’re feeling, his promises are assured.

Secondly, the Word of God exists to encourage us. When we persevere, and do the hard work of obedience even we don’t feel like it, we see the result of our obedience in our lives and—what do you know!—the result we see in our lives is exactly what God’s Word said it would be. We already saw this in chapter 5, verses 3-4: We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.

Which, coincidentally, is the third reason the Word of God instructs us: that through the encouragement of the Scriptures YOU MIGHT HAVE HOPE. Remember, hope in the Bible is not a feeling: it is the assurance of a coming fulfillment. It is knowing that whatever we can see is not all there is, and it is definitely not what will be forever.

The people of God—the body of Christ—the church—is formed by the Word of God. And when we know that, the short prayer Paul gives in v. 5-6 makes perfect sense:

5 May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, 6 that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Paul showed us earlier in the letter that God’s plan for his people was laid out in the Old Testament, long before Christ ever came. So his prayer here—that we, God’s people, might live in harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus—is a prayer that we as God’s people might finally experience what was predicted in Scripture: that all of God’s people, Jew and Gentile alike, might be united to one another and live united to one another, and glorify God with one voice.

Christ Serves All Peoples (v. 8-13)

Which is exactly what Paul brings back to our minds starting in v. 8. Remember, the Romans would have read this letter in one sitting. We’ve been seeing it over months, so it’s been a while since we’ve seen Paul insist on this to such an extent, but the context in which he is writing is that of the tension that existed between the Jewish and Gentile Christians in Rome.

So in v. 8, Paul brings us back to the fact that the hostility that once divided these disparate groups of people has been removed in Christ.

V. 8:

8 For I tell you that Christ became a servant to the circumcised to show God’s truthfulness, in order to confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, 9 and in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. As it is written,

“Therefore I will praise you among the Gentiles,

and sing to your name.”

10 And again it is said,

“Rejoice, O Gentiles, with his people.”

11 And again,

“Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles,

and let all the peoples extol him.”

12 And again Isaiah says,

j“The root of Jesse will come,

even he who arises to rule the Gentiles;

in him will the Gentiles hope.”

These verses are a succinct summary of what he said earlier, in chapters 9 through 11. Christ became a servant to the circumcised (that is, the Jews); when he came, his ministry was almost exclusively amongst the Jews. They were the ones he preached to, they were the ones he healed. Why? To show God’s truthfulness, in order to confirm the promises given to the patriarchs. The promises which foretold that the Messiah, the King whom God promised to send, would come to save his people.

At the same time, Christ’s ministry also ensured that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. The Christian church began in Jerusalem, under the ministry of the apostles (all Jewish), and grew out from there, to the entire Roman Empire—to the Gentiles as well as the Jews. Suddenly, people who were not Jewish were placing their faith in the Jewish Messiah, and being integrated into the church.

This too was a fulfillment of promises given in the Old Testament—several of which Paul quotes in v. 9-12. (In verse 9, he quotes 2 Samuel 22.50 and Psalm 18.49 (50); in v. 10, Deuteronomy 32.43; in v. 11, Psalm 117.1; in v. 12, Isaiah 11.10.)

All of this brings us back to where Paul left off in chapter 11—though the Jews were historically known as God’s people, Jesus Christ came in order to open the door to all the nations. The Gentile Christians had been grafted in to the historic people of God, whom the Jewish Christians still represented. They worshiped the same God the Jewish Christians did; they were no longer two peoples, but one.

Welcome One Another, as Christ Welcomed You (v. 7)

So you can see what Paul has been doing here—for three chapters he has been applying these glorious truths to the daily life of the church, teasing out many implications and showing them how they might live out these truths. And here, he brings the Romans back to the main point, reminding them of why they are to live this way.

Which is why, in v. 7, he gives his final, global application:

Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.

I held off reading this verse until now because it acts as a kind of pivot point in this passage. V. 1-6 provide the foundation for his command in v. 7 (this is why he begins the verse with “therefore”), and v. 8-13 deepen that foundation even further (which is why he begins v. 8 with the word “for”).

Paul has explained that Christ took responsibility for the sins of his enemies—because of his work, we have been forgiven, declared righteous, reconciled to God. This was the fulfillment of what the Scriptures said Christ would do, and we have received these Scriptures for our instruction, to produce endurance, encouragement and hope. We are now a people formed by the Word and united by the Word. We have been united to one another, as members of one body—if one member falters, the whole body falters.

So in the light of all that, how are we to respond? Welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.

So now we see how this command to “welcome one another” goes far beyond saying hello to people over coffee on Sunday morning (though that is an excellent beginning). Welcoming one another as Christ welcomed us means several things, all of which we see in today’s text. It means treating the other Christians around us as members of the same body. It means celebrating in their joys, and persevering together in our failings. It means (as we saw last week) putting the growth and maturity of our brothers and sisters ahead of our own desires—even if it takes a long time and a lot of patience to get to that growth.

It also means moving toward one another, to help one another grow, and then moving together towards those people we don’t know yet, outside the church, because many of those people don’t know Christ yet, but they will. And we are called to welcome them into the family—to speak to them about Christ, to sacrifice ourselves for their salvation. It’s never one or the other; we are not allowed to choose between the edification of the body of Christ and the mission of the body of Christ. One does not come without the other. We grow in Christ, and we help each other grow, in order to move outside these walls and make disciples of all nations—to confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, and in order that the nations might glorify God for his mercy. (This is what we’ll be talking about next week.)

Can we just be honest and agree that what Paul is calling us to is a lot of work? I even joked about it at the end of last week’s service: Now I don’t just have to think about my OWN obedience, but also the obedience of the people sitting next to me? To a certain extent, yes! We can’t control what our brothers or sisters do; but we are called to help one another obey and grow, no matter how long it takes, no matter how annoying and painful and frustrating that might be.

It’s a lot of work. But here’s what we must remember, and this is what Paul has been getting at this whole time. If Christ has welcomed us, as sinful and fallible and inconsistent as we are, and if God’s plan was always to unite us together as one body for his glory, what excuse could we possibly have for living our life any other way? What Christ did and does for us is infinitely more difficult than what he is asking of us. So if Christ has welcomed us anyway, as monumental a task as that was, what excuse could we have for not welcoming one another, for not bearing with one another’s failings, for not taking responsibility for the other members of our own body?

What he is calling us to do is difficult, absolutely. But it is far easier than what he has done for us. And the good news is that we don’t have to do it alone.

Doxology (v. 13)

Which is why Paul ends this section with this simple and beautiful doxology—a final prayer to remind us that we cannot do this under our own steam…and we don’t have to. V. 13:

13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

This is the third time he has mentioned this final goal of our hope in his goodness and his plan (after v. 4 and v. 12). Our hope is that God will do what he promised he would do—that he would save us by the finished work of Christ; that he would give us a full assurance of our salvation and fill us with the incredible joy and peace which come from that assurance; that he would unite us to one another; that he would cause us to grow up into Christ together, as a body; and that one day, just as he promised, he would bring us home.

These truths, this assurance, are what should be in the back of our minds every time we come together to worship, every time we enjoy our community groups together, every time we read the Bible together, every time we sit down to a meal together. These truths animate our love for one another, our discussions with one another, and the sacrifices we make. These truths reorganize our priorities, remind us of what is truly most important to us—not our professions or our hobbies or where we live, but the people of God, saved and forgiven by the work of Jesus Christ, and united to one another for his glory. Nothing is more important.

We are one body, in Christ, and we are growing together in him. So let us welcome one another, as Christ has welcomed us, for the glory of God, and let us rejoice when we do it, because we know that we’re not doing it alone.

The Limits of Our Freedom

Romans 14.13-23

On September 13, 1989, a ground-breaking event took place in my life: Tim Burton’s Batman was released in cinemas. I went to see it multiple times that fall, and when it was released on VHS a couple months later, I watched it constantly.

The following April was my ninth birthday. Mom and Dad asked what I wanted to do for my birthday and I didn’t even have to consider it: I wanted to invite my friends for a Batman movie night.

So that’s what we did: we had pizza, we watched Batman, it was fantastic.

But my dad was the youth pastor in our very conservative church, and he was young himself (only 32 at the time). A couple days after the party, he got called into the pastor’s office for a talk. Apparently some of my friends’ parents had complained to the pastor that it was inappropriate for my dad to show such a dark movie to their kids.

To be fair, they should have gone to speak to Dad directly. But that’s not what shocked me. What shocked me was when Dad told me that the pastor had been right to call him to task about it. Not because Batman was in itself inappropriate (he still didn’t think it was), but because he should have taken these other families into consideration.

It annoyed me to no end when I was young, but Dad always said the same thing during my adolescence when addressing this kind of situation (it’s almost as if he’d learned something that day). He always quoted Romans 14.16: Do not let what you regard as good be spoken of as evil. In other words, do your best to avoid even the appearance of sin, even if no actual sin is happening.

That verse has stuck in my brain my entire life, and it used to bother me. Why should someone else’s mistaken opinion of what is wrong or right determine how I decide to live? We talk so much about freedom—why should I give up my freedom to do as I please just because it happens to bother someone else?

That is the question Paul asks in this text, and it’s a difficult question, because it’s so incredibly real. It sits right at the point where our theology meets our everyday life, and for a lot of Christians, that’s where things fall apart.

If you remember, since chapter 12 Paul has been applying everything he said in the first eleven chapters: because of God’s mercies to us in Christ, we are called to present ourselves as living sacrifices as our spiritual worship to him, which means pursuing love for one another in the church, love for others in the world, and holiness in every sphere of life.

Last week, in chapter 14, verses 1-12, Paul reminded us of one way love can easily be lacking in the church: we have differing opinions on secondary matters—like what foods are okay to eat, what days we should celebrate—and because of these differing opinions, we can end up judging one another. As we saw last week, when the Bible says, “Do not judge,” it doesn’t mean to never judge an action or a situation, but to not judge the person: to “judge” someone, in a biblical sense, is to consider them less worthy or legitimate as a child of God because of something they do.

So Paul tells us not to that, for two main reasons: we all have the same Lord and Judge, and we all have the same motivation.

In short, in last week’s text, Paul told us what not to do in the midst of disagreements. In today’s text, v. 13-23, he tells us what to do: how to proactively love each other in the midst of disagreements.

Love Your Brother By Protecting His Conscience (v. 13-19)

The first thing he tells us to do is surprising: he calls us to love our brothers and sisters by doing whatever we can to protect their conscience.

V. 13:

13 Therefore—that is, because we have one Judge, to whom we will give an account—let us not pass judgment on one another any longer, but rather decide never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother.

So he reminds us: don’t judge—but instead, love your brother (or your sister) by helping them listen to their conscience.

Now, if you remember the context of this chapter, you’ll remember that he’s speaking practically here, not theologically: he’s referring to things we do, which come out of our theological convictions. He comes back to this example of what the Roman Christians eat or do not eat. In all likelihood, he’s talking about Jewish Christians who have been told all their lives not to eat certain kinds of meat (because these meats were forbidden by the law of Moses), and who would have had a very hard time in their conscience, sitting at a dinner table where these kinds of meat were being served.

That’s the situation, and Paul’s speaking directly to those (probably Gentile Christians) who would have had no problem eating meat. He’s telling them not to judge those brothers or sisters who don’t see things the same way, and to go even farther than not judging—he’s saying, “You see your Jewish brothers and sisters have a hard time with this. So help them out. Don’t do something you know is going to make listening to their conscience more difficult.” That’s what he’s getting at in v. 14:

14 I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself, but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean.

So here Paul speaks clearly: for you Christians who believe it’s fine to eat any kind of meat, you’re right. Ever since the apostle Peter’s vision in Acts 10, in which God actually tells him it’s okay to eat all kinds of meat, that has been the official position of the Christian church: Christ fulfilled the Old Covenant, so now you can eat what you like.

Paul agrees: no food is inherently unclean.

Bu then he says something strange, in the second half of v. 14: but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean.

Why would that be the case? Let’s take a different example. In the churches in which I grew up, they believed that it was sinful to drink any alcohol, of any kind. I always understood why they would speak out against excess, against drunkenness; but why they would say that it was wrong to have a glass of wine with dinner baffled me. (I understand a little better now, but it’s still pretty funny to hear a teetotaling preacher try to explain why Jesus’s first miracle of turning water into wine “isn’t what it looks like”.)

Here’s the thing, though. Let’s say one of these Christians came to France, and came to dinner at our homes. Most of us would likely serve wine with dinner. This person might feel like he has to drink some wine (it would be rude not to, after all), so despite the fact that he believes it’s a sin, he does it anyway. He has a glass of wine. And when he does, his conscience is screaming at him: This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong.

But the next night, it gets a little easier to have a glass of wine with dinner. Then a little easier. Then a little easier. Keep in mind, he’s not accepting the wine because he’s convinced it’s okay: he’s drinking wine because everyone else is, even though he still believes it’s wrong.

What is he doing when he does this? He’s essentially desensitizing himself to his own conscience. He’s teaching himself not to listen to his conscience.

Now, in this case I would say his conviction that alcohol is inherently sinful is wrong (after all, as Paul says, no food or drink is inherently unclean). We’re still growing; sometimes we’re not as sensitive to the Holy Spirit as we should be, or our conscience gets bothered not because of what the Bible says, but because of preconceived ideas we’ve inherited. So we won’t get it right every time.

The problem is that if this brother learns to ignore his conscience in this matter, what will happen on the day his conscience tells him something he really needs to listen to? If he desensitizes himself to his conscience, he runs the risk of not listening to it, for fear of being too strict—even though it’s telling him exactly what he should do.

If you’ve been a Christian for twenty years, maybe you have the maturity to take a step back and see what’s going on; maybe you have the maturity to listen to your conscience no matter what. But if you’re “weak” in the faith, as Paul says—if you’re a new believer, or if you simply haven’t exercised those particular muscles yet—it won’t be so easy.

So you, strong brother or sister, you need to help your weaker brother, and make it easier for him. V. 15:

15 For if your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love. By what you eat, do not destroy the one for whom Christ died. 16 So do not let what you regard as good be spoken of as evil.

These Gentile Christians knew enough about Judaism to know that eating meat would probably be hard for many of their Jewish brothers and sisters, even if their conviction was mistaken. So Paul says to take that into account when you sit down to eat together, when you host a meal.

Why? Because if your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love.

This might seem unfair, because Paul is (at least in a limited way) making our brothers’ and sisters’ feelings about something our own responsibility: he says, you are no longer walking in love, if your brother is grieved by what you eat. Of course you can’t help it if you didn’t know—but most of the time we can guess, and if we can’t guess, we can always ask: “Do you have wine with dinner? Is there anything you don’t eat?”

I hope you see what he’s doing here (and it’s going to be difficult for some of us): in this text, he’s not calling us to think theologically. He’s rather calling us to think relationally, for theological reasons. There’s a difference.

For example, if you’re thinking purely theologically, your defense will probably be, “Well, it’s not a sin to eat meat.” You’ll say “it’s not a sin” to do whatever it is you’re doing. And you might well be right.

But that’s a really low bar—plenty of things aren’t sinful, but that doesn’t mean they’re helpful. Just saying “It’s not a sin” doesn’t take into account the Christian sitting across from you—what they’ve understood, what their convictions are, what their maturity is like. "Is this a sin?” should not be our only question—we should also be asking: “How will this serve the brother or sister with me? How can I love them in this situation? How can I build them up? How can I help them grow?”

Love Your Brother By Sacrificing Your Freedom (v. 17-22)

This is hard for us to accept: loving your brother, protecting his conscience, might sometimes mean sacrificing your own freedom. That is something none of us want to do. We place a high price on our freedom, and we’re not wrong to do so. But what if our desire to preserve our own freedom ends up putting our brother or sister in chains? Is it okay to preserve our own freedom at the expense of someone else’s?

If our goal really is to be like Christ, to love one another and to build one another up, then our own appetites will go way down in our list of priorities.

V. 17:

17 For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. 18 Whoever thus serves Christ is acceptable to God and approved by men. 19 So then let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding.

Think of how much time we spend trying to earn simple pleasures. A good meal with friends and family. A good time on vacation. Comfortable homes. Enjoyable pastimes.

None of these things are wrong in and of themselves. But they are not the essence of the kingdom of God. The kingdom of God isn’t about pleasures—at least not earthly pleasures to be gained right away. The kingdom of God is about deeper things, things which will dig roots and continue to bear fruit for all eternity, things that will bring us infinitely more pleasure than a good meal or a good vacation every will: righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. That is, growing to be like God, having peace with him, and knowing the joy of being his children.

So these are the things we should be pursuing above all others. And if we do, that will have necessary consequences on our decisions. We will not just be thinking about what we want at any given moment, but about how to serve God in whatever situation he puts us in. And if that situation brings with it a brother or a sister who needs help to grow, then that brother or sister’s needs will come before whatever we happen to want at the time. If our focus really is the kingdom of God, our own appetites will take second place.

This might all sound abstract, but remember the context: it’s harder to get more down-to-earth than a meal. You, Gentile Christians in Rome, want meat, and that’s fine—it’s okay to eat meat. But if your Jewish brothers and sisters are eating with you, then eating meat meat might compromise their integrity. Who cares if they’re wrong? What’s more important? Eating what you want, or helping other members of the body of Christ learn to listen to their conscience?

This is what’s at stake in these really practical matters of what we eat, what we drink, what we watch, what we listen to, what we laugh at, what we discuss. V. 20:

20 Do not, for the sake of food, destroy the work of God. Everything is indeed clean, but it is wrong for anyone to make another stumble by what he eats. 21 It is good not to eat meat or drink wine or do anything that causes your brother to stumble. 22 The faith that you have, keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who has no reason to pass judgment on himself for what he approves.

Notice what Paul is doing here. Like before, he is placing the conscience of our brothers and sisters at our feet—and here, he goes even further. He doesn’t just say that if we eat although our brother is grieved by what we eat, we’re not walking in love (as he said in v. 15). He says that it is wrong for anyone to make another stumble by what he eats.

We will have two big objections to this. Firstly: “How can I make someone else ‘stumble’? I’m not forcing them to sin.” Maybe not. But if you’re doing something you know is troubling them in their conscience, you’re putting them into a position in which they feel pressured to do something they think is sinful. And remember—they’re weak in their faith.

I have two younger brothers. When we were kids, I could talk my little brothers into anything. Firstly, because they looked up to me, and secondly, because I was the strong one. I don’t have to force anyone to sin to make them stumble; I just need to put them in a position in which they doubt themselves, in which they worry what their “more mature” brother or sister in Christ will think of them if they don’t do this thing. In such a situation, many people will stumble—and if they don’t, then at the very least they’ll be miserable trying to fight the temptation.

The second objection is even more complex: how can someone “stumble” if what they’re doing is not a sin? Paul has already said that in the Lord Jesus no food is unclean in itself; it’s not a sin to eat meat. So how can something that is not sinful make someone “stumble”?

We’ve already talked about this: it’s a question of conscience. There are a lot of things that the Bible clearly calls sin. Those things, we should all avoid—it is objectively, clearly sinful to do something the Bible calls us not to do.

But there are other things that are less clear, that may come more from upbringing or from past trauma or from social norms. Or maybe they come from the situation: how do we apply the Bible’s instructions in this particular context? Sometimes these ideas will be right, and sometimes they won’t; but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that, for whatever reason, these acts or behaviors about which the Bible is less explicit make the person concerned feel uncomfortable in their conscience: they feel like they shouldn’t do this, that it wouldn’t be honoring God. Their consciences are warning them to not do this thing.

We need to listen to our consciences, even if the Bible says nothing explicit about a particular action or decision. Our conscience is how the Holy Spirit guides us when the Bible doesn’t speak on a given subject, and often he does this by warning us against things that might not be sinful in itself, but that wouldn’t be good for us.

For example, someone who is predisposed to addiction could more easily become an alcoholic than someone who isn’t. So the Spirit may warn this person, in his conscience, to stay away from alcohol, because once he starts he may not be able to stop.

The point of all this should be a big relief for those of us who aren’t perfect yet (that is, all of us): Paul wants it to be clear that it’s okay to still be growing. It’s okay to not know where every line is; it’s okay to not know what the Bible says about every possible sin, or how to apply what the Bible says in every conceivable situation. These are things we’ll learn with time.

So if you’re more mature in your faith, don’t make this learning process more difficult for your less mature brothers and sisters. Make things easier for them. Take their growth into account. If you see they’re uncomfortable with whatever you’re doing, do something else. Really, what will it cost you? A little bit of your own pleasure now, in order to love your brother or sister well. What we gain from that exchange far outweighs whatever paltry pleasure we lose.

Love Your God By Not Taking the Risk (v. 23)

And if you’re the less mature one, and you’re uncomfortable but you’re not sure whether you should be, Paul has one simple word for you: if you have even the slightest doubt about whether or not you should engage in any activity, don’t do it.

V. 23 (this is the one verse directed towards the “weaker” brother or sister):

But whoever has doubts is condemned if he eats, because the eating is not from faith. For whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.

If you have a doubt about whether or not doing this thing is a good thing—eating this meal, or drinking this drink, or watching this movie, or listening to this music, or participating in this conversation, or spending time alone with this person—if you have a doubt about whether it’s a good thing or not, don’t do it. If you have a doubt, and you do it anyway, you’re condemning yourself.

Don’t panic when you hear that: he’s not using the word “condemned” here in the same way he did at the beginning of chapter 8—Paul has clearly told us that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. What he means is that if you do something even though you think it might be sinful to do it, you’re making yourself guilty of sin. It may not be sinful to eat meat, but if you’re unsure about that and you do it anyway, eating meat becomes sin for you, because you’re displaying your willingness to disobey God. You’re showing that you’re willing to take the risk of disobeying him—not because you’re convinced it’s okay, but because everyone else is doing it.

Now, that sin of being willing to disobey God has been covered by the blood of Christ, absolutely—he lived, died and was raised in order that you might be forgiven of that. But it’s still not nothing: we don’t speak often enough about the fact that sin isn’t just something we have to confess later, but something we’ll have to recover from. All sin—even sin we know has been forgiven by God—makes it harder for you to listen to God in the future, harder to enjoy God in the future. It’s a sin you will have to confess and recover from later. Don’t do it.

But why would something that’s not sinful—in this case, it’s eating meat, but it could be any number of things—become sinful just because we have doubts? Paul gives the answer: because the eating is not from faith. For whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.

So if you have a doubt, don’t do it. Let your refusal to do something—even something that might be okay—be an act of faith, a way of telling God, “I don’t know if you want me to do this. But I want to be like you so much, I want to take holiness so seriously, that I don’t want to take the risk.” That’s an act of faith: denying yourself something that might be fine, in order to do something you know is right.

Conclusion

A good way to land the plane here might be to come back to this question of freedom. Paul says in v. 14: I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself. That’s a pretty broad statement, if taken out of context—obviously, he’s talking about things that God created, not sinful actions we commit. But one of the most frequent questions that people ask me (and we asked it this week in our home groups) is, What exactly does it mean to be “free” in Christ? Are there limits to that freedom?

I often explain the freedom Christ gives in two complementary ways. If we look at the teaching of the Bible as a whole, freedom in Christ means, firstly, that we are free from having to earn our salvation through our behavior. It is not the fact of doing or not doing certain things that makes us right with God—it is only the work of Christ accomplished for us through his life, death and resurrection, and applied to our hearts by his Holy Spirit to give us faith in repentance. That is what saves us. So we don’t have to achieve anything in order to be loved and forgiven by God. That is incredible freedom.

But it does come with a necessary change. Freedom in Christ does not mean that we are now free to do whatever we want. Rather, freedom in Christ means that we are finally free to desire those things we should desire, free to do those things we should do. Why? Because now God has given us faith. Before he came in and changed us, we had no faith, so we only sinned, all the time—we did nothing from faith, and whatever does not proceed from faith is sin. But now, we have faith. We can finally do things that proceed from faith—we can finally desire those things God says are good for us, and we can desire them for the right reasons.

So how do we know the limits of our freedom in Christ? If nothing that God created is unclean in itself, how do we know when to say no?

This text gives us three clear limits.

Limit 1: We say no to anything the Bible calls sin. Again, nothing God created is unclean in itself, but there are plenty of ways to misuse what God created: the human body, our relationships, food, drink, leisure, our minds, our hearts… If the Bible clearly calls something sinful, that is an automatic no for us.

Limit 2: We say no to anything our conscience tells us not to do. Again, our conscience might be wrong—or rather, we might mistake for conscience things that make us uncomfortable for other reasons. It doesn’t matter: if we have a doubt, it’s better to say no. It’s not worth the risk of desensitizing ourselves to the voice of the Holy Spirit reminding us of what truly is right and wrong. If we feel our conscience is troubled by something, we should say no, even if the Bible says nothing explicit about it.

Limit 3: We say no to anything that might trouble the conscience of the brother or sister next to me. This is more of a general principle than a “no”—when we are with other people, we take them into account before making a decision. We ask ourselves what would serve them best in this situation, how we can love them well in this situation. And if we don’t know, we ask. We have that conversation. Like we saw last week, if we approach these discussions with humility, they will always result in growth in our faith and in our relationships with one another.

There is incredible freedom in Christ—but that includes freedom we might not expect. It means being free to not pursue our own desires at all costs. It means freedom to put others’ needs before our own. It means freedom to focus our eyes on something other than ourselves, which is far more freeing than we imagine.

Let us serve one another well, love one another well, and celebrate our freedom together by what we don’t pursue, just as much as by what we do.

Disagreements in the Church

Romans 14.1-12

I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but modern Christians, as a group, don’t do well with nuance. Of course this isn’t a uniquely Christian problem: modern people in general don’t do well with nuance, because it blurs the lines between what is acceptable and what isn’t. Nuance makes it harder to figure out what we should do and what we shouldn’t. And the human attack on nuance has only gotten worse with the advent of social media: if a belief or opinion can’t be summarized in a meme, it’s not worth our time.

But here’s the problem: in the life of the church, nuance is absolutely crucial.

Here’s one example of why nuance is crucial, and I want to talk about this right at the beginning, because as we go through this text I know a lot of you will be thinking about it.

Have you ever heard someone say that when they spend time with Christians, they feel “judged”? Have you ever had a conversation with another Christian, in which that person disagreed with something you said or did, and you felt “judged”? The person who feels judged often feels justified in not paying any attention to what the person in front of them actually said—why? Because of course Jesus famously said, “Judge not, that you be not judged” (Matthew 7.1). Paul says the same thing in this text. So obviously (we think), if you feel judged, the other person was wrong to make you feel that way.

In my opinion, we pull out that “I feel judged” card way too often, because we rarely stop to consider what “Do not judge” actually means in the context of the text and in the context of the Bible as a whole: we almost never consider that commandment in a nuanced way.

Take a step back and think about last week’s text. At the end of Romans 13, Paul calls us to “cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light”. He calls us to “walk properly as in the daytime”—to not do in private those things we’d be ashamed to do in public. And he gives examples of what a few of these things might be: drunkenness, sexual immorality, quarreling, jealousy. There are many things God calls us to do and not to do, for our good, and those things are clearly laid out in his Word.

The church exists, in part, so that we might help one another “walk properly, as in the daytime”, that we might help one another “cast off the works of darkness.” That means that if we see someone doing something that is not in line with God’s character, we are called to talk to them about it. We’re called to do it with love, for their good, but also with clarity, showing why they shouldn’t act that way. If I find out that a brother is being neglectful toward his wife, or harsh with his children, I am called talk to him about it. Matthew 18.15: If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. Galatians 6.1: Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness.

We need to be clear about something: this is not what Jesus or Paul are referring to when they say “Do not judge.” It can’t be, because God won’t call us to do something and not do something at the same time. Going and talking to someone about their sin is not “judging” them. In the same way, expressing a disagreement with someone is the same thing as “judging” them.

Most of us have seen Jaws (and if you haven’t, you should). If you’re at the beach with a friend, and he’s in the water, and you see a shark’s fin approaching your friend, what will you do? You’ll yell, “Shark! Get out of the water!”

In that circumstance, how will your friend respond? Will he say, “How dare you judge me because I’ve decided to swim here! Who are you to tell me what to do?” Of course not—he’ll start swimming for shore as fast as he can.

Why? Because it’s obvious that you yelling “Shark!” is not a judgment of his person, but of the situation. You are pointing out a danger, and coming to your friend’s rescue.

Whenever Jesus or Paul say “Do not judge”, they’re telling us not to evaluate someone else’s merit. If I judge someone, I’m deciding that that person is less legitimate as a Christian, or less worthy than myself. It’s obvious that we mustn’t do that, because no one is worthy of God’s grace.

But all disagreements are not that kind of judgment. And judging someone’s actions (as in, observing and noting that a given action is sinful) isn’t the same thing as judging the person.

In order to understand that, we need to approach these things with nuance.

That’s why I hate social media, and I love Romans 14. This chapter is basically an extended plea for nuance in the church, particularly in the way we approach disagreements over secondary issues. It is one of the most practically helpful texts, in regards to the life of the church, in all of Scripture. So we’re going to spend two weeks in this chapter together.

If you remember, last week Joe preached on the end of Romans 13, in which Paul says (v. 8):

Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.

We like verses like that, because they sound nice. At least until someone shows up in the church who upsets the apple cart. In the life of the church, our love for one another is most frequently and violently tested when we come into disagreement with one another—often, instead of love, disagreements produce judgment: they cause us to consider someone else less legitimate or worthy a Christian than we are.

But in the life of the church, our love for one another is most frequently and violently tested when we have someone in front of us who tells us we’re wrong about something. Often, instead of love, disagreements produce judgment: they cause us to consider someone else less legitimate or worthy a Christian than we are.

That’s what we need to fight against, and that’s what Paul’s going to be addressing in this chapter. And he’s going to begin by showing us why disagreements shouldn’t break us: because all of our disagreements are ultimately before one Lord, and one Judge. And that Lord and Judge is not us, but God.

We Have the Same Lord (v. 1-4)

He begins by clearly setting the scene, establishing the context for what he’s addressing. He says (v. 1):

As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions.

There are two words in this verse that are vital to understanding what he’s talking about.

The first word is “opinions.” He’s not talking about sin, and he’s not talking about the truth of the gospel. He’s talking about what we often refer to as secondary issues.

We always have this conversation in the members’ class, but in case you haven’t gone through that yet, we need to talk about it. When I say “secondary issues,” here’s what I mean. There are some truths which are absolutely central to our faith: the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God the Son, to save us from our sins; the divinity of Christ; the doctrine of the Trinity (one God, in three persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit). And there are more.

These are central tenets of the Christian faith; we cannot call ourselves Christians if we deny them.

But there are plenty of other issues that, while very important, we can disagree over without losing the core of the Christian faith. Then there are other issues that are less important than those. And others that are even less important. And so on.

We can disagree on a lot of things and still consider each other brothers and sisters in Christ.

And there are still other subjects that aren’t necessarily theological, but that are influenced by our theology. Should a Christian practice yoga? Listen to non-Christian music? Watch certain films? Dance? Drink alcohol?

He’s talking about opinions.

The second important word is the word “weak,” or “weak in the faith.”

The historical context is important here. He’s writing to Christians of both Jewish and Gentile origin, and while there’s nothing in Romans in indicate that there was open conflict in the church, there was certainly tension—he addressed this multiple times in the earlier chapters of the letter. But now, he gets more specific and addresses a specific subject. We don’t know if it’s an actual dispute that he heard was happening in the church in Rome, or just a hypothetical dispute, but it’s the kind of argument that, given the context in that church, would come one day if it hadn’t already, because it was so common in a mixed church like theirs.

The dispute in question is over the question of whether or not Christians needed to follow Jewish food laws in order to be acceptable to God.

He says (v. 1 again):

As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions. 2 One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables.

So he’s made the truth of the matter clear—the one who believes there are certain things he should or shouldn’t eat is “weak”—but he’s not going into why that’s the case for now. For now, as he often does, he lays out the principle before getting into specifics.

And here’s the principle: if you see a Christian who you think is weak in faith, welcome them—but not to quarrel over opinons.

Why does he need to say this? Because one of the most common things a group of people who spend a lot of time together will do is sit down and eat together—and when you get to that table, inevitably, some of you are going to eat certain things, and some of you won’t. And (at least in this context) it’s not for health reasons, or ecological reasons, but reasons of theological conviction—those who eat all different kinds of meat do so because they truly believe it’s okay, and those who don’t eat certain meats refrain because they truly believe God wants them to continue to follow Jewish food laws.

One of you is right, and one of you is wrong. So how do you love each other—how do you remain in unity with one another—in such a context?

V. 3:

3 Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him. 4 Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand.

That’s the first key: the “strong” brother shouldn’t pass judgment on the “weak” brother—he shouldn’t consider him as “less Christian” than himself. Why? Because God has welcomed you both.

Paul spent a long time earlier in the letter establishing how we are saved, and he was very clear that it is not through our obedience to God’s commandments, it’s not because we grew up with a particular ethnicity or culture; it is only because of the grace and mercy of Christ, who gave himself for us. If we have faith in Christ, if we have repented of our sin, then God has welcomed us both.

And if that’s the case, we will quickly see that we are in no position to look down on one another because of our opinions, because the brother or sister in front of you is not your servant, but God’s. It is before his own Lord, his own Master (God), that he stands or falls.

That’s a simple way of saying that eventually, our Lord will show us which opinions are wrong or right. I know some of you disagree with me on some secondary matters. That’s fine. There will come a day when I will discover whether my opinions over secondary matters are correct or not, and—here’s the important thing—on that day I won’t be standing before you all, but before God. He is my Lord, not you. He is your Lord, not me. It is before him that we stand or fall.

In either case, whether we’re right or wrong about these secondary issues, God has already “welcomed us”. And if that’s true—if he’s saved us—our opinions about these things won’t matter. We will be upheld, Paul says, because if we belong to him, he is able to make us stand. He will make sure that our opinions about secondary issues, even if they’re incorrect, will not make shipwrecks of our faith.

God is our only Lord. So every disagreement should be brought under his authority as Lord. It is before him that we stand or fall. We are not over one another as Christians, but side by side, under the same Lord.

We Have the Same Motivation  (v. 5-12)

Now already, this is argument enough: Paul’s proven his point and made a convincing case for how we should approach arguments over secondary issues in the church. He could have stopped there, and we would have reason enough to respond to one another with humility and patience in moments of disagreement.

But he’s going to go even deeper, and remind us that passing judgment on one another because of these matters should be entirely off the table, because God is our one and only Judge. V.5:

5 One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind.

So here he’s giving another example of a common disagreement that would have come up at the time. The Jews observed (and some still do observe) many yearly feasts—special days where they remember the faithfulness of God in the past, or look forward to his promises fulfilled in the future. The Gentiles wouldn’t have observed these feasts. We can find the same thing, to a much lesser degree, in Christian churches today. Some churches will stick to a very strict liturgical calendar, others won’t. Some Christians think we should only gather for worship on Sunday, while others think we can gather on any day of the week.

Paul makes no judgment here on who is wrong or right—the person who considers some days more important than others, or the person who doesn’t. Instead, he focuses on what is most important, and that is that each one should be fully convinced in his own mind.

It’s a little frightening to realize how many of our opinions form all on their own. There are opinions we just absorb, through culture or family or media; others come because of personality, or situation, or maybe even just because it’s the easiest opinion to have.

Paul says this isn’t how we should think. The Christian should think hard about what he believes, and why. Opinions must not be formed by personality, or situation, or neglect, but through a rigorous examination of the Word of God, and prayer that God would give us wisdom to apply it. Whatever opinion we land on, it should come as a result of our submitting to God and doing the work of trying to know him. Wherever we land, we should be convinced.

Of course that’s not to say our minds can’t change. But (for example) we shouldn’t institute a rule for ourselves or for our homes if we’re not convinced it’s good to do so. Maybe tomorrow we’ll learn something that will change our minds. But for today, we’re convinced of this, so this is what we will do.

There are two interesting things about what he says here. The first is that he doesn’t say that it’s a bad thing for two Christians to be fully convinced of two opposite opinions. Difference of opinion over these secondary matters, like food and festivals, isn’t a bad thing. One of us is wrong and one of us is right. Or maybe we’re both wrong. So what? Does that change who we are before our Lord?

This is going to be hard for some of you to believe, but it’s true: entertaining the possibility that we’re wrong is unbelievably freeing. It means you don’t have to defend yourself to anyone. It means you don’t have to live with this constant fear that someone will think you’re a fraud. We’re all wrong about some things, and that’s okay. As long as the main things are clear in our minds—those truths which are central to the gospel—we can be mistaken in other areas, and nothing changes. If we have been saved by faith in Jesus Christ, through the proclamation of the gospel, we can be wrong and still know that we are loved and accepted by God, united to our brothers and sisters in Christ.

It’s not a bad thing that there are sometimes disagreements over secondary issues—it would be pretty strange if there were none.

The second interesting thing Paul shows us here is that in both cases—whether you observe the feasts or you don’t—you can both have the exact same motivation for doing it. And it’s the motivation that is most important. V. 6:

6 The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, since he gives thanks to God, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God.

You see, whether it’s a question of our habits or our decisions or our opinions, the same thing should motivate the follower of Christ: a desire to honor the Lord, and gratitude for his grace to us.

I have friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, who baptize their babies. I firmly disagree with this practice. This is a Baptist church; we believe that we are called to baptize Christians upon profession of faith—that is, we believe baptism should be the choice of the person getting baptized, and they should be able to understand and articulate their desire to follow Christ. Babies can’t do that.

But here’s the thing: whatever our conviction around baptism, all of us hold these convictions and remain firm in them because we want to honor God, and because we are thankful for his grace to us. That’s why I can discuss this subject with someone, but I’ll never get into a fight with them over it. It’s a matter of secondary importance. We can agree to disagree.

The point here is that we can be fully convinced of two different opinions on a secondary matter, and still have the same motivation: a desire to honor the Lord, and gratitude for his grace to us.

Now here’s the problem. I know that some of you are hearing me say all this, and your heads are about to explode. Because you love the Bible, you love theology, you love orthodoxy, and it feels to you like everything we’re talking about today just opens the door to a really dangerous mentality that says, “Believe whatever you want, as long as you have the right motivation.”

Let me reassure you; that’s not what I’m saying, because that’s not what Paul’s saying. The Bible is important. Our understanding of the Bible is important. Right doctrine is important. Right application of doctrine is important.

But this text is not talking about how we see doctrine; it’s talking about how we see people. I said earlier that in this text Paul gives an extended plea for nuance in the church; I didn’t just mean theological nuance, but relational, interpersonal nuance. It’s the nuance that allows us the Christian to see his brother or sister as a person, rather than a human repository of doctrinal ideas.

So often people who are new to the faith want to simply talk about God with other believers, but end up getting sucked into theological debates that they have no idea how to handle. And they leave those discussions feeling like their hearts have been torn out, because instead of being built up by their brother or sister, they’ve just been pretty harshly criticized for not knowing something they haven’t had time to learn yet.

Or someone who has been a Christian for a long time, but comes from a different church background, comes into the church and feels unwelcome and unwanted because they disagree on a secondary matter. (And I’m not speaking hypothetically—both of these things have happened before, in this church.)

Paul is not saying secondary issues are unimportant; he’s saying that the body of Christ is more important. We can disagree on secondary issues and still recognize that we have the same motivation for our convictions—and in v. 7-9 Paul tells us how that’s possible.

V. 7 :

7 For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. 8 For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. 9 For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living.

Do you see his logic? Christ came, and died, and was raised in order to be shown as the Lord of all things—of the dead and the living. So ultimately, we do not belong to ourselves, but to God. Everything we do—how we live and how we die—is for him, and in life and in death, we are his. That means that everything we have, in life and in death, we have through him and in him. And our thankfulness for his grace will give us a firm desire to honor him in everything, which means we’ll desire to think hard about what he tells us in his Word, and how we believe that applies to our lives.

But at the same time, because we know that we needed his grace and forgiveness, we’ll remember that we’re fallible human beings, and there are some secondary things we may get wrong. So we’ll apply our convictions with humility, we’ll discuss our opinions with humility, because we know that we’re imperfect, and we know that God has welcomed and rules over the brother or sister in front of us, just like he welcomed us and rules over us. V. 10:

10 Why do you pass judgment on your brother? Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God; 11 for it is written,

“As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me,

and every tongue shall confess to God.”

12 So then each of us will give an account of himself to God.

Christ’s lordship over us, his grace to us, is the great equalizer: it puts us all in the same situation of knowing that all we have and all we are belongs to him, and he is the one who will ultimately judge whether our convictions over secondary matters is right or wrong. If I get to heaven, and Christ tells me that I’ve been wrong this whole time and should have baptized babies, I’ll thank him for clearing that up, and marvel once again at his grace in saving imperfect people like me. (I don’t think that will happen—like I said, I’m convinced this is the right way to go—but if it does, it’ll be okay.)

The point here is that Christ is the one Lord over all; it is he who has the authority to judge us over these matters. So I have no legitimacy or reason to despise a brother or a sister because they don’t see these secondary issues the way I do. Christ will judge these matters; it is before him that we will give an account, and he’s promised to defend us on that day, because his blood has covered our mistakes.

Conclusion

Now, what does this look like on the ground? You’re at the dinner table, and you hear someone saying something, expressing a theological opinion. How do you respond? How should the rest of that conversation go?

That’s a hard question to answer, and we’ll have to grow in this over the course of our entire lives. But let me suggest a good place to start—a new way of engaging in conversation. Instead of expression your opinion right away, ask questions. And not the sort of snarky, trick questions Christians are often so good at, but humble questions. “Why do you approach this like this? What shaped that conviction? I feel like we should do it differently, but I could be wrong, and I want to learn.”

If all of us approach these conversations with humility, then the result will always be growth and brotherly love—even if neither of us changes our minds. These conversations give us a chance to flex our theological muscles, to flex our relational muscles, to come closer to a brother or a sister instead of further away. It helps sharpen us.

Because Christ is our Lord and our Judge, we can disagree on a great number of things, and still leave those conversations knowing we are loved and united to one another. Because ultimately we don’t belong to one another, but to him—whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.

Submit to the Governing Authorities

Romans 13.1-7

I’ll be honest with you: when I sat down to begin preparing this text, I was already a little annoyed with the idea of it, because any time you preach on a series of commandments or principles, you’ll inevitably have people looking for a loophole. The more difficult the teaching is, the more people start looking for exceptions to the rule. For example, any time you preach on sexuality, people start asking, “Okay…but what about this? Can we do this?”

There are few topics in the Bible more likely to provoke this “What-about-this-ism” than the topic of submission to the government—especially when you’re preaching on this subject in France, a country in which rebellion against the government is practically part of our national identity.

But God inspired this passage for a reason, and all of his Word is helpful for the church, so no matter how unpleasant we might find it, what he says here is good for us. (FYI: We won’t be taking a break during the message today, because if all goes well this message will be a little shorter than usual. If you all start throwing tomatoes at me, we’ll be here longer.)

Context

Just a few words before we get into the text itself. As you’ll remember, Paul laid out this beautiful description of God’s grace to us in Christ in chapters 1-11, and then he began laying out what our proper response should be. He began chapter 12 by saying,

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. 2 Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

So the idea here is, in the light of all of God’s graces to us, we should respond by presenting our bodies as sacrifices to him, and allowing him to transform us into Christ’s image. He’s given several examples so far of what that looks like: humility; self-sacrificing service in the church; genuine love and passionate obedience to God’s commandments outside the church; kindness to our enemies rather than retaliation.

Chapter 12 was all about how our understanding of God’s grace to us, and our love for God in response, should shape our character and drive us to love one another. He’ll come back to that subject in v. 8 of chapter 13. So these first seven verses of chapter 13 might seem a bit out of place, like an interruption of his main thought.

But we still have good reason to think this interruption—or rather this parenthesis—was intentional. Paul is speaking to Gentile and Jewish Christians in Rome, and if we remember our gospels, we know that there were few people the Jews hated more than the Romans, because the Romans were the ones occupying Israel. Christians weren’t yet openly persecuted by the Romans (Christianity was frowned upon, to be sure, but it wouldn’t be illegal in the Roman Empire until A.D. 67, a few years later, under Emperor Nero), but let’s just say the two groups weren’t fond of each other. So few things could have been more surprising than to hear Paul take his teaching on love, and apply it to the hilt—all the way to the governing authorities.

Submission for the Sake of God (v. 1-2)

We’ll go through v. 1-2 quickly, because they’re not that complicated, and here he lays out his main point, his guiding principle. Romans 13.1-2:

Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. 2 Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment.

So many Christians in the West come at this text looking for the loophole, thinking, When DON’T I have to obey? Often the way we think is, if we voted for those in power, we love this passage. If we didn’t vote for them, we hate this passage (and often feel justified in ignoring it). But Paul won’t allow us to be subject to a governing authority only if we personally approve of them. It has nothing to do with our feelings, our political opinions, or our own personal comfort.

The ultimate reason why he calls us to submit to the governing authorities is because only Jesus Christ is King. Christ is our ultimate authority; he is the only being to whom we owe our total allegiance and worship and reverence. It is our allegiance to him that drives us to submit to the authorities he has put in place.

Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.

You see, this isn’t really about the government at all, but about God. Paul is calling us to recognize God’s sovereignty over all of human life—even over human government. Christ is King, so we can submit to the governors to whom he has given authority. Thomas Schreiner said it this way: “From a human perspective, rulers come to power through force or heredity or popular choice. But the 'transformed mind’ recognizes behind every such process the hand of God.” Or, as Daniel tells the king in Daniel 4.17, “the Most High rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom he will.”

God calls us to be subject to our governing authorities because the authority they have ultimately comes from him. We might ask why he allowed so-and-so to come to power, but that he did allow them to come to power is inarguable. So to resist that authority is to resist God himself, Paul says in v. 2. Ultimately, we don’t submit to the government because the government deserves our submission; we submit to the government because God deserves our obedience.

Submission for the Sake of Security and Conscience (v. 3-5)

That’s the big idea here. But obviously, you can’t get through v. 1-2 without a whole host of objections coming to mind. But Paul goes a long way towards helping answer those objections in v. 3-5, and he also helps us better understand what kind of submission he’s talking about. V. 3:

3 For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, 4 for he is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer. 5 Therefore one must be in subjection, not only to avoid God’s wrath but also for the sake of conscience.

Now of course the classic objection that comes to our minds is, for example, “What about those people who hid Jews from the Nazis during World War II? Should they have submitted?”

Of course the answer is no—but this is still the Word of God we’re talking about; we can’t allow ourselves to just throw away a portion of it because we can’t quite see how it circles the square. We have to do the work to think about it biblically.

I almost brought this up last week, but I was running a bit too long so I saved it for today.

Starting in Romans 12, verse 9, a stylistic change takes place that I’m sure you noticed. Paul begins applying sweeping instructions over a broad range of topics; our lives with God, our lives with the church, our lives outside the church, our lives with our enemies. From there all the way until around Romans 13.10, his writing becomes quite similar to what we see in wisdom literature, like the Proverbs or Ecclesiastes.

It’s not accidental: Paul knows the Bible better than any of us, and even quotes the Proverbs more than once in these passages. He knows what he’s doing. Wisdom literature always sets up principles that are meant to be applied situationally.

For example, in chapter 12, verse 20, he quotes Proverbs 25, saying, “If your enemy is hungry, feed him.” The situation is clear here: we’re not to conclude that the Bible calls us to force-feed our enemy whether or not he’s hungry. If your enemy is hungry, then feed him. Do him good, rather than harm, no matter what he’s done to you. The point is that Christian love calls us to show kindness to our enemies, which will force them to come face-to-face with the harm they are causing.

Paul picks up the format of wisdom literature quite often, and that’s what he’s doing here. He’s setting up principles that are meant to be applied situationally. Wisdom literature in the Old Testament always addresses best-case scenarios: in the normal state of things, this is how we should behave. It speaks less of what we should do in a given situation, and more of what kind of people we should be. It speaks less of our actions, and more of our character.

In other words, no matter how adept we might be at finding exceptions to what Paul is saying, those exceptions don’t apply here; that’s not what he’s talking about.  We have several examples in the Bible of times when civil disobedience is praised—for example, in Exodus 1, when the Pharaoh orders that Hebrew baby boys be killed, two midwives hid the babies then lied about it, they were rewarded by God. Or there’s Daniel refusing to only pray to the king in Daniel 6. Or Peter and the apostles refusing to stop preaching the gospel in Acts 5.

Paul knows these examples well, and calls us to be subject to the governing authorities, not to obey them blindly in every conceivable situation. He’s laying out a principle that applies to the normal state of things. And we know this because in v. 3, he says that rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. That is the normal state of things; that’s how it’s supposed to work.

But we could put it another way: if our rulers become a terror to good conduct, that’s when we have a problem. A Christian living in a country where Christianity is illegal should continue to live for Christ and find ways to wisely share the gospel, even though it’s against the law.

And there may be some instances when this is the case for us today in France. If the government doesn’t allow us to obey God, or requires us to sin, then our response will be, “We must obey God rather than man.”

But let’s be honest: that’s not the situation most of us are in, is it? Those instances, if they come up, are rare in France. The French government might promote things that are sinful; it definitely allows things that are sinful.  But in most situations, the government doesn’t prohibit us from obeying God, and it doesn’t require us to sin against God.

Again, Paul is laying out a general principle here; like the Proverbs, he is telling us how we should behave in the normal state of things.

And the general principle is this: God, in his common grace, has allowed human governmental structures to exist in order to suppress criminality and to encourage good citizenship—to provide security, for the good of the people living under those governments. Of course some governments corrupt this goal, and become “a terror to good conduct”. That’s not the situation he’s speaking about here.

God gives authority to those in power in order for them to be servants for our good—to protect those who do good, and to carry out at least some measure of God’s wrath against those who do wrong. It’s not the full measure of God’s wrath—that will be carried out by God himself on the day of judgment—but it is a measure of God’s wrath.

For example, in France today, you won’t go to jail for having a conversation about Jesus with a friend. You will go to jail if you murder someone. Generally speaking, this is how it works. So the first reason why we submit to the governing authorities, Paul says, is to avoid the wrath of God against sin, which the government has at least some hand in carrying out. We submit to the government for our own safety and well-being, and for the safety and well-being of our neighbors.

The second reason is much simpler: we submit to the governing authorities for the sake of conscience. If the laws in place are meant to provide protection for those who do good and punish those who do wrong, then obeying those laws is simply the right thing to do, and God calls us to do what is right—to flee sin, in all of its forms, even if we consider those forms to be harmless. We obey traffic laws, not just for the safety of the other cars around us, but because we want to obey God. In Psalm 32 David talks about how his bones wasted away, how his strength was dried up, when he knew he had disobeyed God and hadn’t acknowledged his sin. A clean conscience is restorative; a clean conscience before God gives us rest.

We obey the law, even if we think no one will see and there will be no consequence for us or for anyone else, because we want to honor our God through obedience to him, in every aspect of our lives—even the most inconsequential.

Submission as an Expression of Love (v. 6-7)

So we submit to the governing authorities, firstly, because God has given them the authority they have. We submit to them to protect us from God’s wrath (which is in some measure executed by them) and to enjoy the common grace he brings about through them. We submit to them for the sake of our own conscience.

Lastly—and this one may be the most difficult—we submit to our leaders as an expression of love. V. 6:

6 For because of this you also pay taxes, for the authorities are ministers of God, attending to this very thing. 7 Pay to all what is owed to them: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed, respect to whom respect is owed, honor to whom honor is owed.

Why do I call this submission an expression of love? Because he is showing us what it looks like to offer ourselves as living sacrifices to God, in response to his grace to us in Christ; and the through-line that drives our sacrifice, as he established in chapter 12, v. 9, is Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. He’ll explicitly return to this love just after, in chapter 13, v. 8. This isn’t a change of subject.

It’s pretty interesting: he acts like an accordion here. He begins with the area of our lives over which we have a good deal of influence—our lives with one another in the body of Christ (12.1-13). Then he widens the scope and includes those over whom we have less influence—our neighbors, those people who surround us (12.14-21). Then he widens it even further, and speaks of those over whom we have very little influence at all—the governing authorities (13.1-7). Then he squeezes back in again, speaking about our neighbors (13.8-14). And finally he goes back to where he started, bringing us back to our lives with one another in the church, particularly those over whom we have massive influence: believers who are weaker in their faith, whom we can teach how to live for Christ (14.1-15.7).

In all of those contexts, no matter what our level of influence, the motivating factor behind all we do is love—love for God and love for one another. Obviously, this love will look and feel different for those in power than it will for our neighbors or for those in the church; but even our limited interactions with them should be guided by the same love for God, which should produce in us (as weird as it sounds) a love for our leaders.

What will this love look like in practice? Paul gives us an example: paying our taxes (which in part provide for our leaders’ revenue), and respecting and honoring them.

Now of course they’ll probably never see this; Emmanuel Macron won’t know if you show him respect in the way you obey the law or pay your taxes or speak about him. But it doesn’t matter. God will see it, and so will other people. No matter what you may personally think about our president, Paul says that he is (in the limited sense of the word) a “minister of God,” that is, God has given him the authority he has to fulfill a certain function in our society. We may disagree with the ways he goes about fulfilling that function; but we are called to respect him as the one God has put in place to fulfill it.

It is very possible to express disagreement and even discontent in a respectful way, in a way that honors him. One simple example comes to mind: you’re sitting with other believers, and someone starts complaining about something or other that the president has done. And you’re all in agreement: the president made a decision, and it was a bad decision. But instead of just endlessly griping, you pray for Macron together: that God would give him wisdom, that God would give him clarity, that God would guide his decisions.

Love should also motivate us when we pay our taxes—love for God, who tells us to be subject to the governing authorities (that’s why he says in v. 6 that we pay our takes also for the sake of conscience); love for those authorities, who are ministers of God to fulfill their function in society; and love for our neighbor, who will benefit from the services those taxes provide, just as we will. It doesn’t matter whether we agree in every point with how those taxes are put to use. What matters is that because we are submitted to King Jesus, we can submit to those he put in power over us.

Conclusion

Now I know that some of you have been listening to this without listening to this; the second you saw that this was the subject of today’s text, you turned off your brains and started imagining something else, waiting until for me to finish. I get it; this is a text that is so far removed from your natural way of thinking that it seems easy to dismiss.

So let’s just remove the question of the government for a minute. This text doesn’t just address our attitude towards the government, but our attitude towards authority in general.

Our problem here isn’t fundamentally with the government, no matter what government we’re talking about. We have two main problems, and we’ve had them since Genesis 3: we have a problem with pride, and we have a problem with trusting that our God is a good God.

We want to be our own masters, because despite all the evidence to the contrary, deep down we think that we are better masters than God is—otherwise he wouldn’t ask us to do such ridiculous things, like submit to the governing authorities. We want to be our own masters because we’re not entirely sure that God is actually a good God, because he asks us to do things we don’t want to do—even sometimes things that will be painful for us.

But Paul presses hard against that pride and mistrust in this passage. To our surprise, he tells us that authority, at its core, isn’t what we think it is: authority is a good thing. God exercises his authority with infinite wisdom and perfect justice, often through human authority—whether it’s the authority of the government, authority at work, or authority in the home. So because we know we can trust in him, we can submit to them.

This is how Jesus himself lived. He accepted God’s authority, exercised through human means, even when it literally killed him. He knew what would happen if he accepted God’s authority over his impending crucifixion, and he said as much. In Luke 22.42, he prays, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.”

Why did he accept his Father’s authority? Because no matter how painful it was for him personally, he knew that God’s authority was good, and he knew that God’s plan was good. Christ knew that his death would bring about an eternity of joy for himself and his people—all of us who have received forgiveness of sin through his sacrifice for us. In the moment, submission to God’s authority may cost us everything; in the light of eternity, what we lose is nothing compared to what we gain. Because God is our authority, because he cares for us, we don’t need to fear losing anything for the sake of our obedience to him. It’s worth it, and we what we gain through obedience to him is far more than what we stand to lose.

We can submit even to imperfect authority, because God’s authority is good, and his wisdom is infinite, and his justice is perfect. In the normal state of things, this is what he calls us to do. And when the state of things becomes abnormal—when the authorities prohibit us from obeying God, or demand that we sin—we submit ourselves to God’s authority for the same reasons: because his authority is good, and his wisdom is infinite, and his justice is perfect.

In both cases, our attitude towards those in authority—the attitude that the French around us will see—is a powerful testimony of the gospel’s power, because they will see something unusual in us. They will see our desire to be humble, and to give to each what he is owed: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed, respect to whom respect is owed, honor to whom honor is owed. They will see the change God has brought about in us—they will see our “renewed minds”—and God will use it for his glory.