Romans 3:21,22 “But Now…”

As always, here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

²¹but now, a righteousness of God apart from law has been revealed, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets, ²²even a righteousness of God through faith of Jesus Christ into all the ones believing, for [there] is no difference…”

Verses 21,22 are perhaps the most glorious words ever recorded in human history. As Adam and Eve stood guilty and hopelessly condemned before the Lord, they heard Him say He would someday send “the Seed of the woman” who would “crush the head of the serpent.” Even so, every single human being stands at the end of verse 20 under a law that can only condemn them and drop them into hell.

Then, if we’re listening, we hear the Lord speak, “But now…”

Pardon me if I belabor this point, but the enormity of this truth is to me astounding. “But now.” We humans run “hither and yon” all the days of our lives, oppressed by guilt and troubles, and trying desperately to somehow make our lives and this world “work.” In a million different ways, we spend all day every day trying to “fix” it – whatever “it” may be. Our world is broken. People are broken. The government is broken. Something is terribly wrong with it all. And perhaps, worst of all, way down deep I know there’s something terribly wrong with me.

And, if we care at all, where do we run to “fix” it all? To law. As I’ve noted before, we think the answer is more laws, better laws, new laws, less laws, even no laws, but one way or another, we are quite sure we can somehow fix it all with law, with something to do with the rules. And where does it get us? If someone is honest, they must admit it doesn’t work. For all the law-keeping, for all the “religion,” for all the new diets, for all the new workouts, for all the new study plans, for all the new whatever, our world goes on being broken and we go on being guilty and oppressed, troubled in our heart of hearts and still chasing that elusive sense of peace which we never seem to find. I’m reminded of the words, “Help me, I’m drowning in a sea of black. There’s darkness around me and knives in my back. I struggle for freedom, I search for the light, but I never quite reach it. It’s lost in the night.”

By Romans chapter 3, verse 20, we humans have tried it all and where do we stand? Guilty. Hopeless. The very law we thought would save us has not only failed us, it itself condemns us! “By the law is the knowledge of sin.” Perhaps we would utter one last squeak of, “But I’ll do better…” only to realize, even as we’re squeaking, that itself is hopeless.

Guilty. Condemned. Broken. Hopeless.

“But now…”

Pardon me again if belabor this point, but I want to note I am not here talking about “religion.” I’m not talking about “Christian teaching” or one particular philosophical paradigm of human existence. What we’re pondering is reality.

This is reality. The human race is broken. The universe is broken. I’m broken. You’re broken. And anyone who is honest must ultimately come to the same conclusion: My world is broken and I cannot fix it. Our twisted hearts may propose a million different explanations of what is wrong, why it’s wrong, and what will fix it, but what we are reading here in Romans chapter 3 is reality. This is the Truth.

At the end of verse 20, it is utterly and completely hopeless truth.

And for those few who will be honest and admit this – that they are hopeless – suddenly these words break upon us, “But now…”

And, above all else, what truly makes these words beyond priceless is that it is God who is speaking. We have looked every which way. We’ve turned to each other, read each other’s books, listened to each other’s ideas, tried each other’s solutions, and here we are bankrupt. Then a voice from above says, “But now…”

“Hallelujah!” my weary soul wants to shout, but finds it can barely squeak. It’s not time to speak. It’s time to listen. God is speaking. He speaks into our utter hopelessness and says, “But now…”

And what does He say, “A righteousness of God apart from law has been revealed.” Righteousness.” “Rightness.” “Being right.” “Not broken.” “Not twisted.” A rightness of God has been revealed and it is apart from law. In Greek, it is literally “without law.” The law we thought would save us instead only condemned us, but now God’s still, small voice would speak to our hearts and whisper, “I have another way.”

Oh that the whole human race could stand together and with our dirty, emaciated faces look up to heaven and say, “We’re listening, Lord. Please tell us Your way.”

And what is His way? Jesus.

God says, “But now…” and then in seven verses explains to us the real hope of our world, the real answer to our brokenness. And we will find it all in Jesus.

May I belabor my point one more time? May I say again, this is reality. This is not just Christian teaching. This is the Truth. We have before us in a nutshell everything that is wrong with the human race and the only real answer. Our problem is a God problem. And what we need is a God answer. And that God answer is Jesus. The answer is not law. The answer is a Person. I don’t need different rules. I need a relationship!

In the seven verses before us, Romans 3:21-26, God would tell us His great “But now.” Oh that the whole world would listen, but most importantly, Lord help me to listen.

 

Romans 3:19,20 “Here We Stand”

As always, here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

¹⁹But we know that whatever the Law says, it speaks to the ones in the Law, in order that every mouth may be stopped and all the world become accountable to God. ²⁰Therefore, all flesh shall not be justified before Him out of works of law, for [the] knowledge of sin is through law.

These two verses are the conclusion of what Paul has been trying to say ever since 1:18, “The wrath of God is being revealed against all the godlessness and wickedness of men…” This is Paul’s version of Solomon’s “conclusion of the matter.” Of course barrels of ink have been spilt contemplating this conclusion, but I’ll venture to add my two cents.

At face value, these two verses are hopelessly negative. As one man noted, the Law is like a mirror. It can show you your face is dirty, but it won’t clean it for you, but here’s the deal – the entire human race is naturally and incorrigibly legalistic. We all naturally think that everything comes down to law, that the answer to every problem in one way or another comes down to rules – more rules, better rules, clearer rules, less rules, even no rules – but always one way or another rules. But no matter what, what do rules show us? Do they not one way or another call us to measure ourselves against a standard? Even the person who thinks there should be no rules has to face the fact that he himself creates his own rules, thus, in creating rules he violates the very proposition he’s maintaining. He utterly fails at living a life without rules!

But what is the inevitable result of measuring yourself against a standard? Is it not the hopelessness of failure? In Romans, Paul has already shown that even us Gentile pagans, with no Scripture at all, don’t live up to the standard of our own conscience. Then there are the Jewish people. If ever there was a classic case of law-living, it is the Jewish people. They were given the Law straight out of Heaven! And how did they do? I would suggest, in a sense, the entire OT is actually an account of that people’s utter failure to live by the very clear Law they were given. When at Sinai they realized God would give them “the rules,” they said to Moses, “All that the Lord commands us, we will do!” They (just like us) thought if they just had the right rules they were quite certain they could pull it off. The OT makes more sense if we read it realizing it is largely a monument to the complete failure of rule-keeping to make a people holy.

Interesting the conversation Moses and the Lord shared in response to the peoples’ words, “All that the Lord commands us, we will do!” The Lord said to Moses, “Oh, that their hearts would be inclined to fear Me and keep all My commands always…” (Deut. 5:29). “Oh that they had such a heart in them.” What the Lord knows is that they did not. The sad truth, and in a sense, the entire problem, is that they can’t see it. They actually think if the Lord just gives them “the rules,” they’ll do a bang-up job keeping them. “Yes, sir! We’ve got this one down. No problem! You just give us the rules and we’ll do it all right!” You and I need to be painfully honest and realize we are no different and certainly no better than them. We too think it is all about rules and of course we’ll make it happen. The sad fact is we don’t have “such a heart in us” either. The real problem for us (and them) is not the rules but the fact that the well spring of our very lives – our hearts – are rotten. All the Law can do, in the end, and in fact the huge reason it is given, is to show us our face is dirty, to show us our hearts are dirty. But no more than the mirror can wash your face, the Law can’t wash your heart.

“Through law is the knowledge of sin.” God never intended His Law to be our ladder to heaven. “Whatever the Law says, it speaks…in order that every mouth may be stopped and all the world become accountable to God.”

This is our rightful response to the Law of God: “to stand before Him silent and guilty.” No matter what kind of law-system I or my culture have created, I have failed to keep it.

The Law can only say, “Your Honor, we find the defendant guilty.”

Anyone who has carefully and honestly read Romans 1:1-3:20 stands exactly here. Guilty. Condemned. Hopeless. The Law has failed us. That on which our very souls have counted turns out to be instead the very enemy that accuses us. Now we have no hope at all. Can we all agree if I can’t at least promise to do “better,” then I have no hope at all. Here I stand with head down, ashamed to even look up, with a ticket to hell in my hand. I look to the Law I thought would save me and realize instead it’s actually the prosecutor!

Here I am again running ahead, but our next verse, 3:21, starts with perhaps the most glorious words we could ever hear as we would recognize the hopeless guilt of our souls. The very next verse starts with the words, “But now.” “Nuni de” in Greek. We’ve been staring at the Law, hoping it would defend us and save us, only to find it frowning at us. In our utter hopelessness our eyes wander to the Judge, expecting nothing but intense anger, and instead we find ourselves looking square into the kind, loving eyes of no other than Jesus Himself. Even as we sit lock-eyed with Him, we hear Him say, “But now…”

If you or I have truly been listening to Romans 1:1-3:20, we will cling to those two simple little words. Somehow, the Judge Himself would offer us some plan to save us. It can’t be about rules. It can’t be about more rules, better rules, less rules, no rules. Rules have failed me. What could He possible offer to save my guilty soul?

Tune in next week for another episode of “Saving Guilty Sinners!” We’ll have to study ahead and see what the Judge has in mind. Isn’t it interesting, that in our deepest guilt we find ourselves looking to the Judge to save us! How amazing is that?

I want to say one more thing before I sign off and go start studying v.21. Once again, this is reality. This is not just our particular twist of “religion,” the story Christians tell. This is reality. The “whole world” it says in v.19 stands “accountable to God.” The whole world can deny it, they can live as if it isn’t true, they can make up religions of their own, take pills, philosophize, keep themselves busy, turn up the music loud, even commit suicide, but there is one basic, simple truth they will not evade – they stand accountable before God.

A person can live their entire life and, in a sense, the first time they ever truly face reality is when they stand hopelessly, helplessly guilty before God. Because they are. That’s reality. In another sense, the first time we’re ever really ready to live is when we realize we stand before God condemned. The very essence of our creation is to walk holding God’s hand or rather, letting Him hold ours. The moment our eyes turn to Him, the moment our hearts say to Him, “Please save me!” is the very first moment we live in reality. We need God. We need Him. Without Him, we can do nothing. He is our reality. Faith is not about having the right set of rules. Faith is about Him. It is about knowing Him and loving Him and walking with Him and letting Him be our guide and help and hope.

Although these two verses, Romans 3:19,20 seem hopelessly negative, may we all embrace their reality and turn our eyes to the only One who can offer us hope!

 

Romans 3:9-18 “Negative”

As always, here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

⁹What then? Are we being excelled? Not at all, for we have before charged all, both Jews and Greeks, with being under sin. ¹⁰Just as it is written that:

There is not a righteous one, neither one.

¹¹There is not the one understanding.

There is not the one seeking God.

¹²All have deviated.

They have together become useless.

There is not the one doing good [to others].

There is not so much as one.

¹³The throat of them [is] an opened sepulcher.

They are deceiving to the tongues of them.

[The] poison of asps [is] under the lips of them.

¹⁴The mouth of them is being full of curses and bitterness.

¹⁵The feet of them [are] swift to shed blood.

¹⁶Destruction and misery [are] in the ways of them,

¹⁷and [the] way of peace they have not known.

¹⁸[The] fear of God is not before the eyes of them.

I’ve always been struck by the negativity of this passage. My first response would be that it is perhaps unnecessarily harsh. What I mean is that, like with the first few verses – they appear to be almost verbatim quotes from Psalm 14, which begins saying, “The fool has said in his heart, ‘There is no God.’”  The Psalm is particularly speaking of a “fool” – a person who has deliberately rejected God in their life. When this Psalm then goes on to say, “There is not one seeking God,” if we’re still understanding it is talking about “fools,” we all nod our heads in agreement. But in Romans, Paul is applying the truth to all of us – which ought to give us reason to pause. “Hey! Wait a minute. Of course that applies to a fool, but I don’t think I’m that bad. Not everyone is that bad!”

That’s my first response. But then we go back to the very first line: “There is none righteous, no not one.” Does that apply to me? Well, yes, of course. Of course I’m not “righteous.” I want to be. I’m trying to become. But I’m very aware I’m “not there yet.” Well, then, if I’m not “righteous,” what am I? And if I’m not righteous, but I do at times seek God and try to understand, try to do good, how do I explain why I exist in some kind of middle point between real righteousness and the downright atheism this passage indicts?

I think we could all agree our experience has been that all people everywhere certainly aren’t totally evil. There are actually nice people in this world. But, if this passage is true, how do we explain them? How do I explain me? I’m running ahead of the text here, but I would suggest it is profoundly important to see that grace is already at work. Even as Paul is laying the charge that all are under sin – to the end he wants to lead us to grace – what we find is that grace has already found us! The Lord sends His rain “on the just and the unjust.” In chapter 2, he just said that “God’s kindness leads you to repentance.” The reason people “aren’t as bad as they could be” is entirely a kindness of God. It is not any indication whatsoever of any inherent goodness in our being.

The very fact that these verses might appear unnecessarily harsh is because grace has already been doing its kind work in each of our hearts. Long before we knew the Lord or even cared what He thinks, He was doing kindnesses to us. He allowed me to be born into a family of hard-working, honest, generous people. I grew up thinking that is normal. I got to grow up in an America where I could live in a real house, not in a grass hut in a jungle. Who do I have to thank for all these kindnesses? It is the Lord. I don’t run around naked with a bone in my nose, killing other people and eating them. Why not? It is the Lord. As Paul told the Athenians, “He determined the times set for them and exact places where they should live so that men would seek Him and perhaps find Him, though He is not far from each one of us…”

What this passage teaches us, what it exposes, is who we really are, who we all would be – were it not for grace! The very fact we can say, “I don’t think I’m that bad” or “But I know a lot of people who aren’t that bad” should move us all to grateful repentance. In my own life, I can think of a thousand times when I could have made really bad decisions, could have fallen into really bad habits and done really bad things – but I didn’t. And why not? Romans 3 teaches me it was the Lord protecting me from myself! Praise His name!!!

The negativity of this passage should actually humble us. We can say with believing eyes, “Yes, apart from the Lord’s kindness, this is exactly who I am,” and then allow His vigilant kindness to draw us to Him, not drive us away. In fact, that is exactly where Paul is headed. He isn’t drawing back the curtain of our hearts simply to condemn us. He’s leading us to the kindness and grace of God who will provide us an answer for our sin!

But first, He has to allow us to see the truth. We simply won’t value His answer, His hope, if we don’t think our problem is that bad. Standing under the light of the Gospel, the revelation of our awful sinfulness only exalts the wonder of this Jesus who will save us! But there I go again, running ahead.

The other thing I want to note for myself is that this passage does teach us a dose of reality. Yes, apart from grace, people really are this bad. They’re demons. We try to assume the best of others, try to look for the good in others. We’re disappointed when people turn out to be false or unfaithful. We’re shocked by the atrocities of which people are capable. For myself, I can confess I am and always have been a delusive fool. For whatever reason, it is just my nature to assume the best of people. I like people. I like being around people. I very much enjoy watching them succeed. Yet there is always that negative twist that frankly I’m very slow to see and not very good at handling. My delusiveness has been both a blessing and a curse in my life.

Somehow, I need to see people exactly as the Bible presents them. What this passage (and the rest of the Bible) teaches us is that actually we are all venomous demons who are (thankfully) being restrained by grace. People can be very good but somehow I need to remember that is entirely because God is good. We have Him to thank that all of us venomous demons can actually live together and enjoy each other, that we can know love and joy and peace. Somehow, I need to stop assuming the best simply because I’m delusive, and rather assume the best as just one more way of trusting and loving God. As I’m typing this, I’m thinking of other people who have the opposite problem – they tend to see the worst in people, to assume the worst of them. Unfortunately, this passage would tell them they have good reason to assume the worst. However, in those people’s case, they need to trust God for how He does in fact restrain evil and cause people to actually do good.

In short, this passage would teach us we all need to see people (us) for exactly who they really are but then see an amazing, wonderful, kind and good God reigning above them all.

This is the Gospel and it is reality. The sad fact is there is something horribly negative and true about us. In fact, it is so bad, we need a Savior. But then, once again, I’m running ahead!