Romans 7:1-6

 

Romans 7 is a pivotal passage, one that is interpreted in radically different ways, even by people of the same religious persuasion. One man said that every time he got a new commentary of Romans, he would look at what it said about Romans 7, and then, based on what it said, he would decide whether to keep the book or take it back. 

The theme of Romans 7 is the struggle between sin and righteousness, the struggle of transformation. In Romans 6, we have already talked about the necessity of this transformation; that justification is not the end of the road but the beginning of the road; that, in the words of an old song, “You can't get to heaven in a rocking chair/'Cause a rocking chair won't get you there.” 

The opening of Romans 7 is in a somewhat odd position because while it does continue this theme, Paul switches gears for the first few verses. On and off throughout Romans, Paul has been answering an unspoken chorus of legalists, of people who looked to the law—whether specifically the Jewish law or any moral code—as the ground of salvation or transformation. A few times during Romans 6, he spoke against this chorus, especially with the famous line: Ye are not under the law but under grace. The first six verses of Romans 7 are (primarily) his address to this group. He begins by saying that he is speaking to those who know the law. This could mean that this is more specifically addressing the Jews. But the general point is that he is coming back to this point of the conflict between the law and faith. However, while this does echo some points made earlier in Romans, this section does more than simply repeat previous verses. Instead, Paul sets some ideas already discussed in a new light and uses those to introduce the main subject of Romans 7. 

Paul's language here is very intricate and we can make more sense of it if we break it down piece by piece.

First, in verse 1, we have these two principles established--first, there is a connection between law and life, and, second, death brings an end to legal obligations. Dead men do not appear in court. They have no effect on the law and the law has no effect on them. There may be cases where there is a moral duty owed to the dead, and there are cases where the law may make the living pay for the actions of the dead—as with inherited debts—but the general principle holds true. Death interrupts the civil course of a man's life and divides him from the power of the law.

Second, this does not hold true merely for the man himself but for all those involved. So in verses 2-3, Paul uses the picture of a marriage. The vow or contract of marriage is 'til death do us part'; therefore, it is binding before death; it is not binding after death. Death ends the legal obligations of marriage. Imagine a string of beads. If you cut the string to remove one bead, all the others will be able to fall off as well. So when a man dies, he is freed from all his obligations, and all his relationships are broken. Yes, there are some exceptions, but the general principle does stand. This is just how the law works. You would think it silly if congress tried to pass a law dictating the actions of dead people.

So we come to the third step of Paul's argument: there has been a death. The string has been broken. The status quo is no longer operative. Those rules no longer apply. What do I mean by saying there has been a death? To get the answer, we have to remember what Paul has said before, specifically Romans 6:3. “Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into his death?” 

This was the whole argument Paul was making in the first half of Romans 6—that as Christians, in the act of salvation, we are identified with or participate in the death of Christ. Jesus' death is the ground of our justification.

There is a picture one sometimes sees circulating on social media, the picture of a person sitting in the middle of a fire, with flames all around them, and yet the person sits calmly saying: “this is fine.” We realize the silliness of that—of trying to pretend everything is normal in the midst of chaos. But the whole chorus of legalist objectors Paul has been trying to answer was doing exactly that, like somewhat stuck forever in the denial stage of grief. They were trying to live as Christians and yet completely ignoring the fact that Christ had died and that, therefore, they had died as well, sundering their connection to the law.

It is something of an odd analogy, and one which has confused or just annoyed a lot of commentators, but the main point is very clear. Death has entered this equation, nullifying the claims of the law. A dead man cannot (under any sane legal system) be punished for his crimes—still less can he make amends for them. That is something only the living can do. Paul will expand on these ideas throughout the rest of Romans 7.