‘Til Death: The Funeral, The Wedding, The Law, The Gospel
Messenger dox
Call to worship:
pastor michael champoux
OT: Psalm 19
dr. brett eckel
NT: Matt 5.31-32
song:
How firm a foundation
historical reading
pastor andrew loginow
apostles’ creed
song:
Christ or else I die
Confession & Pardon:
pastor zachary mcguire
Tithes & offerings:
pastor bobby owens
song:
King of kings
Sermon:
dr. al loginow
‘Til Death: The Funeral, The Wedding, The Law, The Gospel
Romans 7.1-6
Intro:
I like to begin my sermons with an illustration – a story, either from my personal life, or a cultural story from a recognized publication, like the New York Times, or a fiction story from a book, or TV, or film; something tangible and accessible to connect the point of the sermon with the laity. I’m pretty sure that every sermon I’ve ever preached, dating back to my first sermon right here in this pulpit in July 2007, has started with an illustration. The genesis of my methodology is probably the influence of Dr. Russell Moore, a major homiletical hero of mine since I first moved to Louisville in August 2006. The good news for me this week is that I didn’t have to think too hard about an illustration for the thesis of the sermon because that’s exactly what St. Paul does in this pericope.
The marriage illustration builds on the argument beginning in Romans 6.1. To reestablish our bearings, let’s do our own “Fastest Three Minutes in Television.” St. Paul gives us his thesis statement in verses 16-17: the gospel is the power of God unto salvation for those who believe – both the Jew and the Greek; for in the gospel the righteousness of God is revealed – beginning and ending with faith, as it is written, “the righteous/just shall live by faith.” God saves us through the good news of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We are declared righteous before God through the gift of faith in Christ.
The first three chapters reveal our need for good news – God’s wrath is revealed against our sin. Romans 3.21-26 then gives one of the most concise explanations of the gospel in sacred Scripture (one theologian dubbed it, “the most important paragraph ever written”). The righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. In chapter 4 St. Paul reminds us that righteousness through faith is as old as the ethnic identity of Israel in Father Abraham, who believed God and it was counted to him as righteousness (Gen 15.6).
The result of our justification through faith is revealed in Romans 5 – since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ (1). God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (8). Here St. Paul takes us back even further than Abraham to our first father, Adam to explain the work of Christ - Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned (12) … For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous (19).
The last two weeks we’ve looked at Romans 6, wherein St. Paul anticipates the accusation of antinomianism in response to God’s gospel of sovereign grace – shall we continue in sin that grace may abound (1)? Are we to sin because we are not under law but under grace (15)? Both questions elicit the same retort – by no means (μὴ γένοιτο; God forbid)! As signified by the sacrament of baptism, we are in union with Christ, and so we have died with Christ. In 6.15-23, St. Paul enlists the real-world institution of slavery as an illustrate; now here in 7.1-6, he uses marriage as an illustration of our relationship with law.
General Principle (1):
The first thing to notice is the general principle in verse 1. St. Paul transitions his argument rhetorically asking, or do you not know, brothers (Ἢ ἀγνοεῖτε, ἀδελφοί)? What’s interesting is this is the first time since Romans 1.13 that St. Paul addresses his audience as brothers. I’m not sure what to make of this necessarily, but I suspect it has something to do with a subtle transition in the epistle from more theoretical and heavy doctrinal dissertation into more personal application of the gospel (Romans 7 specifically feels very personal to St. Paul). The apostle’s assumption is that the Roman Christians do understand this general principle – for I am speaking to those who know the law (γινώσκουσιν γὰρ νόμον λαλῶ). This doesn’t necessarily mean the church was primarily Jewish; we know there were several Gentile converts, referred to as “God-fearing gentiles,” from the Old Testament, the intertestamental period, the New Testament, and other extra-biblical literature.
The general principle is that the law is binding on a person only as long as he lives (ὅτι ὁ νόμος κυριεύει τοῦ ἀνθρώπου ἐφʼ ὅσον χρόνον ζῇ). Pirates of the Caribbean reminded us that “dead men tell no tales,” well, dead men aren’t charged with any crimes either. The law governs the living. The word is κυριεύω; it means to rule over, to reign over.
The commentaries ask what is meant by the law here? Most agree the Mosaic Law is in view. R.C. Sproul argues that St. Paul speaks more broadly of the moral law of God revealed in conscience and nature dating back to the covenant of works with Adam in the garden. Seems to me that Sproul reaches a bit in his argument, especially since in Romans 7 St. Paul is clearly alluding to the 10 Commandments (the 10th commandment specifically) in 7.7 forward, but I do agree with Sproul in the sense that the Law (Torah) is not merely the legal code of Exodus, Leviticus, etc. To ancient Israel, Genesis wasn’t considered narrative, but law.
Illustration (2-3):
Next comes the illustration – a married woman bound by law to her husband as long as he lives. If a married woman lives with another man while husband lives, she will be called an adulteress and rightly so, but if her husband dies, she is free from that law, and if she marries another man is not an adulteress. The illustration is self-explanatory, at least it should be. Even in our sexually liberated culture, this is intuitive, even if the ethics of our day indicate otherwise.
As sexually liberal as we’ve become, the world is still infatuated with celebrities and politicians in adultery. The Coldplay concert cultural moment is one of the most recent of an insatiable cultural fascination. The legal facet of the illustration is muddled in our culture because of no fault divorce, which has been an absolute disaster leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. Even still people intuitively know that adultery, unfaithfulness to the legal marital relationship is wrong.
It’s important to remember that we cannot build a theology of marriage and divorce from this passage. That’s not what St. Paul is doing. By synthesizing Scripture’s teaching, I think we can faithfully say that Christians are permitted to divorce and remarry in cases of adultery and abandonment, but that will have to be for another sermon. St. Paul’s using this hypothetical to make the point that a widow is no longer bound by law to her dead husband. The law that condemns her as an adulteress while her husband lives, is no longer binding once he dies. “Til death do us part,” means at death, they’re legally parted.
Thesis (4):
The general principle and the illustration explain the thesis. St. Paul transitions to his thesis in verse 4 with the conjunction likewise (ὥστε, itaque [and so] therefore, so then, accordingly, as a result). It’s a logical inferential introducing a result clause. Because the general principle and the illustration ring true, here is the thesis.
You also have died to the law through the body of Christ, so that you may belong to another, to him who has been raised from the dead (καὶ ὑμεῖς ἐθανατώθητε τῷ νόμῳ διὰ τοῦ σώματος τοῦ Χριστοῦ, εἰς τὸ γενέσθαι ὑμᾶς ἑτέρῳ, τῷ ἐκ νεκρῶν ἐγερθέντι). And just like that the apostle pulls the rug right from under us, doesn’t he? Upon hearing the illustration, we’re ready for St. Paul to tell us that the law has died and so we are no longer bound; but no, no. The M. Night Shyamalan level plot twist is that the law hasn’t died, but that WE have died, in Christ.
Signified by our baptism, by virtue of our union with Christ, we have died with Christ, in Christ – his death is our death too. As far as the condemnation of the law is concerned, as far as the power of the law is concerned, we’re dead. We died through the body of Christ – through his vicarious suffering and death on the cross, the wrath and curse of God revealed by our rebellion to the law has been propitiated. Jesus was our substitute who atoned for our sin paying the penalty due us.
If we want to understand any given Scripture, we must always ask the question: why did Jesus have to die and rise again for this passage to be true? Sometimes that hermeneutical question is difficult to decipher; not here. The meaning of St. Paul’s point is very clearly located in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. By faith we are in union with Christ – his righteousness, his vicarious death, and his victorious resurrection.
Is that true for you? Are you trusting in Christ? Do you repent of your sin? If not, then you stand condemned by God’s law and you’re toast. That’s a dead end; turn the other way! Look to the cross and the empty tomb and you will live.
St. Paul adds another layer to our union with Christ here too. He says that we died to the law so that we may belong to another. In the illustration we’re the spouse freed from the marriage because we died, but we didn’t merely die, we’ve also resurrected! By virtue of our union with the resurrection of Christ, we too have risen in order that we might be married to him who has been raised from the dead (participle: lit. the risen from the dead one).
At every single wedding I’ve ever officiated I’ve read from Ephesians 5. Here we find one of the most beautiful pericopes in sacred Scripture wherein St. Paul reveals that marriage is a living breathing icon/type/shadow/picture of the gospel. Marriage is not a sacrament (contra the Roman Catholic Church), but marriage is sacramental – it is a sign of the gospel. Whenever Bethany and I have led couples in premarital counseling and even marriage counseling with couples struggling in suffering or sin, we always look at Ephesians 5 together. Whenever marriages are struggling 10 out of 10 times it’s because husbands don’t feel respected and wives don’t feel loved and this breeds sin and suffering.
The same is true here in Romans 7. We are divorced from the condemnation and power of the law by virtue of our death in Christ. And we have risen again in Christ to be married to Jesus. He is our true and better husband who provides for and protects his church.
The result of our mystic sweet nuptials is in order that we may bear fruit for God (ἵνα καρποφορήσωμεν τῷ θεῷ). We are not righteous before God because of our good works. The very notion that we could be is antithetical to the gospel and destructive to our hearts. When we believe that we are right before God based on our works it either (1) cultivates wicked pride because we actually think we are righteous to stand before God on our own [a low view of God’s holiness and a high view of human ability], or (2) it crushes us because we rightly see that we can’t ever be good enough and we’re depressed and hopeless.
No; we are not right before God because of our God works, but because we are right before God, we do good works. The indicative precedes the imperative. And when we do God works, it’s only because God is doing them through us. It’s no coincidence St. Paul uses the imagery of fruit here – we saw him use the same language in Galatians 5: the fruit of the Spirit. By the preaching of the gospel the Holy Spirit regenerates our hearts, bestowing the gift of faith, and then through the indwelling of the Spirit he works repentance and good works through us.
Explanation (5-6):
St. Paul gives further explanation in verses 5-6: while we were in the flesh, our sinful passions, aroused by the law, were at work in members bearing fruit to death (ὅτε γὰρ ἦμεν ἐν τῇ σαρκί, τὰ παθήματα τῶν ἁμαρτιῶν τὰ διὰ τοῦ νόμου ἐνηργεῖτο ἐν τοῖς μέλεσιν ἡμῶν, εἰς τὸ καρποφορῆσαι τῷ θανάτῳ). In the flesh means while we were under Adam’s headship, bearing his imputed sin, our sin was aroused by the law. We’ll get further explanation of this next week, but for now we must note that apart from Christ, without the Spirit, the law can only arouse sin in the heart of unbelievers. The only power the law has with the unregenerate is more sin.
The two giant magisterial Reformers, Martin Luther and John Calvin wrote much about the use of the law. Luther said the law only had one use – elenchticus: to convict. Calvin taught three uses of the law – (1) restrain evil; (2) reveal our need for Christ; and (3) guide for Christian who have the Spirit to live in grateful obedience. Notice none of the uses of the law is to make the unrighteous righteous because it cannot. The law cannot regenerate; it cannot rebirth.
But now we are released from the law, having died to that which held us captive (νυνὶ δὲ κατηργήθημεν ἀπὸ τοῦ νόμου ἀποθανόντες ἐν ᾧ κατειχόμεθα). We are released from the law’s condemnation. We are released from the law’s power to merely arouse sin. We are released from the law’s inability to make us right. In Christ we died to our former captivity, our former imprisonment.
So that we serve in the new way of Spirit and not in the old way of the written code (ὥστε δουλεύειν ἡμᾶς ἐν καινότητι πνεύματος καὶ οὐ παλαιότητι γράμματος). The new way began on the third day. The new world dawned with the rising of God’s Son. Before then God’s people served in the old way of the written code – they related to God looking forward to the Messiah in faith through the law and prophets.
But with the ascension of Christ and the coming of the Spirit, we now serve in the new way of the Spirit. We are made spiritually alive by the Holy Spirit through the preaching of the gospel. As John Calvin correctly taught, we now look to the law as a guide for grateful obedience, only possible through God’s Spirit. In humility we acknowledge that any good done by us is God’s Spirit working through us.
Conclusion:
If possible, I like to end my sermons tied back to my introductory illustration – a rhetorically satisfying loop closure, if you will. St. Paul’s marriage illustration perfectly leads us to the family meal, doesn’t it? The Eucharist is our weekly rehearsal dinner for the marriage supper of the Lamb because by faith, we have been wed to Christ.
When the Lord Jesus returns to raise the dead, judge the world, and make all things new, he’s going to throw the most opulent wedding reception in history, and all the drinks are on him. But for now, we look forward to that feast in the bread and the wine. We have died to the law and we belong to another, he who has been raised from the dead. As we part to go out into the world to bear fruit for God, let our fuel be the fruit of the vine that we now drink by faith – the blood of his cross.