Sermon from March 30, 2003

Blizzards turn a common driveway into an adventure land. Getting the car into our out of the garage can be an adventure. Even shallow-sloped driveways become a run for sleds of every kind. Snow forts tower like medieval castles at the end of driveways. Shoveling itself, the daughter of Winter and Necessity, can be an adventure, even a spiritual adventure, as I discovered long ago during a blizzard in Upstate New York.

After clearing our driveway, it struck me that a neighbor was going to come home to an impassable driveway. "So," I thought to myself, "here is a chance to show some Christian love, a chance to put myself out a bit for someone else." And off I went, shovel in hand to tackle five hundred cubit feet of wet snow.

Before long, I was perspiring in that 25º blizzard. Before long, a conversation started up inside my head. My Wrong Self said to me, "Wouldn't it be nice, if somebody came along (just perchance, of course) and saw you doing this for your neighbor?"

At once, my Right Self answered, "Don't listen to that business. God wants you to be willing to do things like this without anyone knowing it but Him."

My Wrong Self was quick to respond, "I don't mean you ought to flag somebody down and say, 'Hey, look at me! Isn't this a fine thing I'm doing?' I just mean that what you're doing is a fine thing, and if somebody did come along (just perchance, of course), the Lord couldn't very well blame you for that. You'd have the Lord's approval and the admiration of a fellow creature too. Nothing wrong with that."

"Don't listen to him," said my Right Self. "If you do, he'll take all the joy and worth out of what you're doing, and more."

But I did listen to my Wrong Self. It wasn't long until I stopped what I was doing now and then ("to give my back a rest" I said) and looke around, just to see if anybody was coming by (just perchance, of course), who might have praise to give where praise was due.

After a while, someone did come by, someone I knew. And that person didn't say one word about what I was doing. I found myself muttering something about people that don't know a good thing when they see it. I got a bit angry.

My Right Self said, "You came over here to do an act of love, and here you are clamoring for someone to see you doing it and pat you on the back."

Then, to my surprise my Wrong Self agreed. "Yes, that's right. It's quite obvious that there is no love or humility in what you are doing, nothing but selfishness. You just ought to quit and go home. If you can't be humble, don't be a hypocrite.

Fallen human nature had risen up and made war against redeemed human nature, and my human spirit was the theater in which that skirmish was fought. The enemy was strong, because so much of me was on the enemy's side.

The Surprising Function of God's Law
That skirmish serves as a reminder of the discipline, courage and perseverance necessary for spiritual warfare. We must also know the dangers we face and the divine resources we have for this lifelong battle. Romans eight will identify our divine resources. Last week, Romans 7:1-13 began to help us spot the principal dangers. Verses 14-25 offer more help.

In a nutshell verses 1-13 said that making religious rules agains wrong-doing the primary way of controlling the dark side of human nature will always fail. If all we have at our disposal to deal with the world's ungodly attractions is a list of rules telling us what not to do, the battle will be brief and bad for us. The inflammatory idea of chapter seven says that the law of God, far from controlling the dark side of human nature, arouses the dark side of human nature. If Paul was wrong about that, he deserved all the suspicion and contempt he received from Christian and non-Christian Jews alike.

But if he was right about that, then he was right in verse six to call the law of God the old way of the written code as if it were obsolete. If the law of God, taken most seriously, arouses the dark side of human nature, then no matter how pious it sounds, it is not going to help us to live with integrity amid the ungodly attractions of this world.

contrary to what people thought Paul was saying, he had nothing but good to say about God's law. Verse 12: So then, the law is holy, and the commandment is holy, righteous and good. The problem is not the law. The problem is the sinful disorder that coils in the will of every human being. Paul brings this home to us in an unforgettable way in verses 14-25.

The War Within
The apostle becomes quite personal in what follows. What he wrote may strike you as both poignant and painful. One of his great achievements is to convey his personal anguish but never to embarrass us by specific personal revelations. Verse 14 stands out as the theme for everything to follow. We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritua, sold as a slave to sin.

He says again, strongly, that nothing is wrong with God's law. "I'm the problem," says the apostle. I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. Why would a man of the apostle's stature make such a statement about himself? Did he exaggerate? If verse 14 stood by itself, we might reasonably say he was exaggerating to make a point. Verse 14 does not stand by itself. Verses 15-25 follow with their thrice-separated, searing sense of moral conflict.

At the beginning of each repetition stands a statement of increasingly bewildering self-knowledge. The fact that he can make these statements suggests that he had found a way to live with himself. What he found awaits us in chapter eight. But, first, we need to hear his confession and his anguish. The first seven words of verse 15 express bewilderment. I do not understand what I do.

I am a mystery to myself. He has captured a fairly common human experience. If you have ever been stumped by the moral contradictions of your own life, you will appreciate even more the apostle's guided tour through the maze of his misery. He substantiates the mystery that he is to himself by the simple sentence that ends verse 15.

For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror and said with impotent rage and shame, "What's wrong with you? Why can't you just do what's wright?" We call ourselves names. We vow to do better in future. We may at times punish ourselves. And all the while, we make sure no one else knows our pathetic weakness. The apostle draws two conclusions.

Verse 16 returns to an important theme in the apostle's career. And if I do what I do no want to do, I agree that the law is good. He says again, strongly, that nothing is wrong with God's law. The nemesis of law is the nemesis of human happiness. It's me. I am the one who does not do what he wants to do.

That leads to Paul's second conclusion in verse 17. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. This sin that harms human life, contradicts our good intentions, and from time to time mushrooms into global, demonic expression - this force has a place in me and divides me against myself and transgresses the law of God.

This sin, which Christ bore on the cross, from which I made a break when I believed in Christ, and which I openly renounced at my baptism - this force has a place in me and divides me against myself and transgresses the law of God.

If you have never discovered those depths in your own soul, I don't know that it is necessary for you to do so. Not every person can do so safely, and some cannot do it at all. At the same time it is necessary to say that if we could all go down to the low bottom of our hearts, we would find what the apostle is describing here. What he found led him to make in verse 18 his second statement of bewildering self-knowledde.

I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. This force that I called my Wrong Self and that Paul called my sinful nature is bent on defying the will of God. He substantiates this by the simple sentence that ends verse 18.

For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. These words deepen the mystery that he is to himself. It becomes here a mystery of impotence. Not only does he act contrary to his best intentions, he is not able to eliminate this contradictory behavior. Something within himself overwhelms his desire to do good. He describes it this way in verse 19.

For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing. He doesn't say, but he implies again, strongly, that nothing is wrong with God's law. The nemesis of law is the nemesis of human happiness. It is I. I am the one who is impotent to prevent myself from transgressing God's law.

The apostle draws the same conclusion in verse 20 as he did in verse 17. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. If you have ever been diagnosed with a serious disease, you know the feeling that your body has betrayed you by becoming the host for that serious and, possibly, fatal disease.

In spite of all his religious upbringing and his irreproachable observance of Jewish law, the apostle found himself to be the host for that serious and, possibly, fatal disease, sin. He hated it, and yet at times it mastered him.

If you have never made that discovery about yourself, I don't know that it is necessary for you to do so. Not every person can do so safely, and some cannot do it at all. At the same time it is necessary to say that if we could all go down to the low bottom of our hearts, we would find what the apostle is describing here. What he found led him to make in verse 21 his third statement of bewildering self-knowledge.

So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. If I use the comparison I made last month, the zebras never graze alone; the lion's share the same space. Only now, the apostle makes it clear that the lions are not just out there, they have a home in the human will. He finds that reality so inescapable that he calls it a law. He substantiates this description by describing in verses 22-23 how the law works in his experience.

For in my inner being I delight in God's law (my whole life bears witness to that); 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. This inescapable condition brings him to verse 24's anguished conclusion.

What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? If you have never discovered the lions stalking about inside yourself, I don't know that it is necessary for you to do so. Not every person can do so safely, and some cannot do it at all. At the same time it is necessary to say that if we could all go down to the low bottom of our hearts, we would find inside us the law of sin the apostle is describing here.

The Pastoral Center of Gravity
I worry that people may read the apostle's anguish and dismiss it as unnecessarily pessimistic about human nature. I have to say, first, that what he writes in this deeply personal passage rings entirely true with my own experience, and it rings true with the experiences that many people over the years have shared with me in confidence.

The apostle is not saying that people are rotten all throug, as bad as bad can be. He doesn't deny the good that exists in people, including himself. He is saying that alongside that good is this force called sin, which in surprising and unexpected ways can dominate a person's behavior. That doesn't strike me as unnecessarily pessimistic but as the most compelling account we have of the evil that dogs human life.

We are not bad all through, but we are all divided in the core of our being. We are torn between the good ways of God and our own desires, and we find within us a mysterious inclination at times to follow our own desires. Within us all the dividing line between good and evil passes right through the heart of every one of us.

Today, we look out on a war in the Middle East. No one wanted this war, and yet here we are with battle plans executed and young Americans and Iraqis killing each other and with millions of us on both sides wondering why there could not have been a peaceful way to resolve the crisis.

As the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse prepare to stride across the deserts of Iraq, they bear eloquent witness to that other law at work in the members of my body that contradicts God's law and our deepest agreements with that law and brings destruction and sadness to human life.

The Christian doctrine of sin is not pessimism; it is realism. It would be pessimistic, if it offered no hope. The apostle has asked, What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? He answers in verse 25. Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord!

Then comes the maginficent promis of Romans 8:1. Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. God sees us in our dividedness and makes a way out for us. At those times when we look at ourselves in the mirror and wonder why we can't just get life right, we need to put up on that mirror this great promise: Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. That's the gospel. Hold on to it. It will last a lifetime.

Verse three tells where the condemnation now falls. For what the law was powerless to do in that it was weakened by the sinful nature, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful man to be a sin offering. And so he condemned sin in sinful man.

There is no condemnation for us who are in Christ, but Christ has condemned sin. It will not have the final word. Its days are numbered. Even in this life, as chapter eight will show us, we have resources available now to defeat sin more than sin defeats us. That is God's good news. Receive it. Rejoice. Hold on to it. It will last a lifetime.

A Structural Analysis of Romans 7:14-25

14 We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin.

     15 I do not understand what I do.
               For what I want to do I do not do,
               but what I hate I do.

     16 And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good.
     17 As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me.

     18 I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature.
               For I have the desire to do what is goo,
               but I cannot carry it out.
               19 For what I do is not the good I want to do;
               no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing.
     20 Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

     21 So I find this law at work: When I want to do go,
                                                         evil is right there with me.
               22 For in my inner being I delight in God's law;
               23 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.

     24 What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?
     25 Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord!

                                                         So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law,
                                                         but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.