Romans 8

Chapter 8. Sanctification by the Grace of GodFor sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace. (Romans 6:14)So, my brothers, you also died to the law through the body of Christ, that you might belong to another, to him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit to God (Romans 7:4)These passages express the great truth underlying the seventh chapter of Romans and constituting the second section of Paul’s treatise on sanctification. His first principle was that it is to be death and resurrection, not through the old man—man’s improvement—but through a new life received through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. His second principle is that it is not through the old master—the law—or any of our struggles and efforts, but through our union with the Lord Jesus Christ as our new husband, and the life directly imparted by Him bringing forth fruit unto us, unto holiness and God.

Section I: Our Death to the Old Husband, the Law

Section I—Our Death to the Old Husband, the LawHe first gives us a picture of our marriage to the law, personated here as a husband, just but severe. “The sinful passions aroused by the law were at work in our bodies, so that we bore fruit for death” (Romans 7:5). This is a very vivid metaphor based on the marriage relation, and expressing the strong workings of sinful passions awakened in us by the law, and yielding the offspring of wickedness and sin. This was through no fault of the law; our old husband is described not as unjust or cruel, but as wholly just and good. But we were unholy, and everything awakened in us partook of our evil nature and developed our sin. The more the law reproved our evil desires, the more they increased, so that even that which was good was made evil unto us. This old husband, while good and just, was obliged to be severe by his very justice. Had we been always right, he would have been always kind, and rewarded us with his smile and favors; but by his very nature he was bound to condemn our sin and punish us with inexorable severity. There was nothing of mercy, and he makes no allowance whatever for failure; the slightest deviation from the law will bring inevitable punishment. There is no more pathetic illustration of the rigor of the law than the story of Moses himself, the founder of the law. Once only, in his beautiful and almost blameless life, he broke his own law, and the result was that he lost the promised land. There could be no exception made; he must himself be an example of its inexorable righteousness, and so for that one disobedience he was excluded from the inheritance for which he had suffered so much to lead his people. And so in this picture we see the law sternly condemning the sin from which it could not save. Our old husband could tell us of the right and punish us for the wrong, but he had no power to forever cleanse the evil from our nature, or give us the power to keep his own commandment; and when we disobeyed, he could do nothing but strike us down and at last slay us with the sword of his righteous judgment. This was the most merciful thing he could do, and when he killed us at the last we were at length free from his dreadful bondage. Therefore the apostle says in another place, “For through the law I died to the law so that I might live for God” (Galatians 2:19). “For example, by law a married woman is bound to her husband as long as he is alive, but if her husband dies, she is released from the law of marriage…. So, my brothers, you also died to the law through the body of Christ, that you might belong to another, to him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit to God” (Romans 7:2, Romans 7:4). In two ways we have become dead to the law; first, by the law itself telling us, and secondly, by the death of Christ for us on the cross. Jesus died on Calvary through the stroke of law, and we are recognized as having died in Him, so that we are now free from our old husband, and our obligations are entirely to another, even the Lord Jesus. Therefore we should not seek to be sanctified by the law, or look for spiritual improvement apart from Jesus Christ, our true Husband, and the only source of our true light. The law represents not only the Ten Commandments, but everything that is based on our own efforts and our own strength. The law represents what man can do, and grace what God can do. Sanctification is wholly the gift of God’s grace as much as justification, and we shall never know the first half of our text, “For sin shall not be your master,” until we know the second part, “Because you are not under the law but under grace” (Romans 6:14). Our higher Christian life is not an attainment but an obtainment, granted as freely as the forgiveness of our sins through the blood and righteousness of Jesus Christ. It must be forever true of the garments of the bride of the Lamb, “‘Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear.’ (Fine linen stands for the righteous acts of the saints.)” (Revelation 19:8).

Section II: Our New Husband

Section II—Our New HusbandThe picture is a beautiful one; in Ezekiel 16 we are represented as a woman, lying in her blood at the feet of her former husband, who has bruised and beaten her for her falsity and crimes, and at last has taken her very life. There she lies, a poor, hopeless, lifeless thing. But as she lies in her blood, lo! a glorious Being passes by. It is the Son of God, the Prince of Life. He beholds her in her lifelessness and shame. He looks upon her with intense compassion. Speaking Himself of the same scene, He says: “Then I passed by and saw you kicking about in your blood,… Later I passed by,… and saw that you were old enough for love” (Ezekiel 16:6, Ezekiel 16:8). His heart goes out to her in intense and almighty mercy; He touches her with His hand. He lifts her into new life. He raises her from the dead. He washes her from her blood and stains. He clothes her in His own white raiment. He adorns her with His own loveliness. He makes her beautiful through His comeliness, and then He gives her His love. He makes her His wife. He marries her to Himself, and He imparts to her all that He is and all that He has and makes her the joint heir of His glory and His kingdom. This is the beautiful figure of this passage, and this is the sublime vision that runs through the whole story of the Bible from Paradise to Patmos, from the bridal of Eve to the marriage of the Lamb. Now, the application of this sublime figure to the subject of sanctification is very clear and intensely important. Just as sin was the fruit of our marriage with the law, so holiness is the fruit of our union with Jesus. All the duties and graces of the Christian life are personated as the daughters of a marriage, born of the love of Jesus working in our hearts, and the vital union and communion of our spirits with His bringing forth the fruit of the Spirit, which is “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Galatians 5:22-23). These are the children of the heavenly marriage, the daughters of the divine Bridegroom, through us His bride, by virtue of the Holy Spirit working in us and bringing us into living union with Him. This is the great mystery of the inner life. There is something here which mere intellect cannot understand and coarse materialism could only misunderstand and abuse. Back of every earthly love, back of your marriage to your husband or your wife, back of the tender affection of those two young hearts that do not even understand themselves, there is a great eternal mystery of which these things are the imperfect earthly shadows and types. God gave you a father’s love that you might understand the eternal Father; a mother’s tenderness, that you might comprehend the Motherhood of the Holy Spirit; a brother’s affection, that you might appreciate the Friend who sticks closer than a brother; a child’s filial love, that you might know what it is to say “Abba, Father” (Romans 8:15) to your heavenly Parent. And so He has given to most of us some touch of the tender fondness, for which all other loves give way, the exclusive affection of two hearts for each other alone in order that through it, as by a parable and a picture, we might rise to the conception of that mightiest of all loves and most magnificent of all marriages, the eternal union between the Lord Jesus Christ and the hearts that come into His perfect fellowship and learn to call Him Ishi, my Husband (Hosea 2:16). Nor can I explain, perhaps, to your satisfaction, how it is that I can feel to my Redeemer the exquisite and holy throb of love that corresponds to the marriage relation, and that enables me to look in His face and lean on His breast and pour out my heart into His and drink His Spirit into mine, as no earthly relationship can express. Yet it is so. Nor can I exactly explain how it is that once He was to me only a Savior, a Teacher and a Master, but there was a time when He became to me also a Friend and a Husband, and wakened in my heart longings, responses and delights which I had not known before. Yet it is so. And many of you know it in your deepest spirit though you could not make it plain to one that has never felt it. Now it is this blessed and heavenly fellowship with our divine Husband which brings forth the fruit of holiness in the sanctified life. If you do not know Christ in this way you cannot know all the holiness of His sanctified grace. If you are a stranger to this experience you have yet to enter into the summerland of love. You are living in the frigid, or at best in the north temperate zone, and there are fruits and flowers that will not bloom and brighten in these northern latitudes. You must move down to the tropics, or you shall never know the sweet fragrance and rich luxuriance of the highest and deepest spiritual life. And if you would know these things in all their fullness, the secret is not in straining and struggling, but in receiving more richly of this fullness and living more intimately in His fellowship and Bridegroom love. “In that day,” declares the Lord, “you will call me ‘my husband’ [Ishi]; you will no longer call me ‘my master’ [Baali]…. I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion. I will betroth you in faithfulness, and you will acknowledge the Lord.” (Hosea 2:16, Hosea 2:19-20) There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. (Hosea 2:15) It is from the place of betrothal that the vineyards come. How beautifully He says to His restored bride in the Prophet Hosea, I will heal their waywardness and love them freely,… I will be like the dew to Israel; he will blossom like a lily. Like a cedar of Lebanon he will send down his roots; his young shoots will grow. His splendor will be like an olive tree, his fragrance like a cedar of Lebanon. Men will dwell again in his shade. He will flourish like the grain. He will blossom like a vine,… (Hosea 14:4-7) And then God adds, “Your fruitfulness comes from me” (Hosea 14:8).

Section III: The Transition

Section III—The TransitionWe have one more picture in this section, viz.: the struggle of the old life under the old husband and the climax reached at last in deliverance through the revelation of Jesus Christ as our Sanctifier and Lord. This occupies the last part of the seventh chapter of Romans. There is no portion of the Scriptures that has been such a battleground for the theology of sanctification as this. One thing, at least, is very certain about it. It is not a picture of Christian life as it ought to be, for the apostle has already decided the question in the first verse of the sixth chapter—that the life of captivity to sin, here described, is not the life the Christian ought to live. “Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase?” (Romans 6:1) is his explicit question, and the answer is without evasion or compromise: “By no means!” (Romans 6:2). That means God forbids a disciple of Christ to continue in sin, or be content with the life described in this chapter, and certainly Paul did not stay there even if he was there at one stage of his experience. Undoubtedly, it is a dramatic picture of a real struggle which he passed through, and through which most sanctified souls pass, in passing out of the old life into the new. First, we have the effect of the law in revealing him himself, and convicting him of sin. He says, “Indeed I would not have known what sin was except through the law. For I would not have known what coveting really was if the law had not said, ‘Do not covet.’ But sin, seizing the opportunity afforded by the commandment, produced in me every kind of covetous desire. For apart from law, sin is dead” (Romans 7:7-8). Then he goes on to tell us how the consciousness of sin was developed. “Once I was alive apart from the law” (Romans 7:9). That is, I felt happy and right, and free from condemnation, and even from the workings of sin. But there came a change, the commandment came forbidding him to do the things that he was doing; and then, like a torrent checked or a wild beast at bay, all the strength of his evil nature asserted itself. Then he adds, “Sin sprang to life and I died” (Romans 7:9), that is, he became conscious of all the force of evil in his heart and gave up his hope and comfort in despair. Is not this the experience usually of the young disciple? His early experience is cloudless and delightful. He has not yet seen the depths of his own evil heart and thinks, perhaps, that there are no such depths of sin in him. But suddenly, some great sacrifice is demanded, some cherished thing is to be cut out of the life, some difficult obedience it to be performed, some secret sin is revealed; and then the whole strength of the will concentrates upon that issue and the battle is a sharp and decisive one. The first result often is deep discouragement and he is almost ready to give up in despair and say, “I do not think I ever was a Christian.” The commandment comes, sin springs to life and he dies. Then along with this revelation of sin comes the distinct recognition of an opposite principle: the new life in him through the regenerated heart which is undoubtedly there, notwithstanding the surrounding corruptions. And so we read, “For in my inner being I delight in God’s law” (Romans 7:22). This inward man which delights in the law of God is undoubtedly the new man, the regenerated soul, born from above. Notwithstanding our corruptions and struggles, let us never give up the confidence of our salvation. We are the Lord’s children, although we are full of fault and blame. The nugget is genuine gold, although it is mixed with much rough rock and native ore. In due time the great Refiner will cleanse it from the dross; but be careful and do not throw it away because it still has some dross. Next, we see the honest struggle between these two natures. The new and heaven-born heart is opposed by the old natural heart, and a terrible struggle ensues in which the good is often defeated by the evil, yet never yields its consent. “But I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members” (Romans 7:23). Now, this is the struggle in which so many Christian lives spend all their earthly existence. It is an honest and earnest conflict, and God gives full credit for the intent, but looks with sorrow upon the failure which is so needless and vain. What is the struggling soul to do? To continue the fight forever? What did Paul do? Listen: “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24). When we can do nothing else we can at least give a good cry. When it came to the worst Paul just lifted up his voice and called for help. With his little ship sinking in the rough waters he shouted for aid. and such a cry is never heard in vain. God heard him, and a moment later, lo! the vision beyond the surf was of the white sails of the lifeboat coming to his aid with Jesus in the prow, waving His hand in encouragement and victory, while Paul answers back with a shout of triumph, “Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:25). And now the lifeboat is quickly attached to the sinking ship and quickly bears it across the rough waters into the open sea of peace and grace and glory into which we pass in the following chapter. The seventh chapter of Romans is the hopeless struggle of the new heart with the old heart in a saved man. The eighth chapter of Romans is the victory of the same man over his old enemy and all others, when something is added to his life, viz.: the indwelling presence and power of Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit to fill him and keep him in triumph over all his foes. The closing verse of the seventh of Romans gives us the key to the whole chapter in the words, “I myself”; it is the story of what I, myself, can do, it is the best that the good self is able to accomplish, while the eighth is the best that Christ in us is able to accomplish, and the key to the eighth chapter is, “In Christ,” and “Christ in [us]” (Romans 8:1, Colossians 1:27). I, myself, can choose the right and struggle for it, but cannot fully accomplish it. With the mind I can serve the law of God, but with the flesh I will still often serve the law of sin. But when I come into the higher place of union with Christ, then “through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death” (Romans 8:2). In the fifth chapter of Galatians the same conflict is described: “For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature” (Romans 5:17). Usually we spell the word “spirit” with a small “s” and that keeps us in the seventh chapter of Romans—our spirit struggling against our flesh. The true way to spell it is with a capital “S” and this takes us into the eighth chapter of Romans, and makes the struggle no longer between our spirit and our flesh, but rather between the divine Spirit and our evil nature. The battle is not ours but God’s, and the victory is sure and complete; and so the apostle says in Galatians, “So I say, live by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature” (Galatians 5:16). In conclusion, let us sum up the whole subject. First, have we seen our need of sanctification and been convicted for the deeper work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts? Secondly, if so, let us not seek it in the wrong way— through the works of the law and the struggles of our own will. But thirdly, let us get married to Christ and receive His life as the principle and spring of the holy desires, aspirations and attainments that we never can work out by ourselves. A dear friend gives this rather comical but very expressive illustration of what we have been trying to explain. Two factory girls met the other day on the street and the one accosted the other with the question, “Say, Lizzie, where are you working now?” Lizzie looked at the questioner with an indescribable expression of lofty contempt and replied, “Working! Why, I am not working, I am married.” She had given up working and had gotten married, and had somebody now to support her. Well, the story has a real point: let us give up working and get married to Christ; let us cease from our struggles and receive His overflowing life and love; and then spontaneously will spring from our happy hearts and lives the fruits of holiness and the heaven-born graces of love and joy, of righteousness and service, of patience and long-suffering, which all our efforts can never attain, but which through His grace shall spring from Him and then return to Him and flow out to others in glory and blessedness.