Why we need the gospel - Rom. 3:9-20
Despite the fact that we live in
a world filled with evil and unimaginable wickedness, and despite the fact that
you don’t have to be a person of faith to know this, the fact of the matter is
that very few people believe that they are sinners. The well-respected Christian counselor David
Powlinson recalls that before he was converted to Christ as an adult, he didn’t
think of himself as a sinner. I have a
feeling that he is a typical case. The
fact of the matter is that our culture is committed to the idea that people are
basically good and this is the way we generally think of ourselves. That being the case, however, means that
people don’t feel that they have any real need of redemption from sin. And that is a problem for the gospel because
the gospel is all about redemption from sin.
If there is no need of that, what need is there of the gospel?
In the epilogue to his book, Making
Sense of God, Tim Keller recounts the testimony of Langdon Gilkey who was
imprisoned in China with Eric Liddell during the second world war. Gilkey was not a Christian, and in fact was
thoroughly imbued with the progressive and secular vision of man and the world,
educated at Harvard and graduated magna cum laude with a degree in
philosophy. He too believed in the basic
goodness of human nature and in the power of reason to conquer moral failure
and evil in the world.
He was teaching English in China
when the Japanese overran the province in which he taught. He was then imprisoned with two thousand
other people in a space no more than two and a half acres, surrounded by barbed
wire and guarded day and night by armed guards.
As a result, there was very little privacy, and very few resources to
accommodate everyone. At first, Gilkey
thought that human goodness and reason would shine through and everyone would
work together for the common good.
However, he soon began to see that selfishness was more fundamental than
goodness and reason to the human condition.
This was true of both religious and irreligious people. It seemed that no one was willing to
sacrifice for others. Even when it was
obvious to reason that it was for the common good that something be done, if it
bumped up against a person’s private concern, they were just not willing to
sacrifice their good for the common good.
In this very difficult place, the “thin polish of easy morality” wore
off.[1]
Gilkey was forced to see that
morality is not the product of reason, but rather the reverse. He writes,
It was a rare
person indeed in our camp whose mind could rise beyond that involvement of the
self in crucial issues to view them dispassionately. Rational behavior in communal action is
primarily a moral and not an intellectual achievement, possible only to a
person morally capable of self-sacrifice.
In a real sense, I came to believe, moral selflessness is a prerequisite
for the life of reason – not its consequence, as so many philosophers contend.[2]
There was an exception, however:
Eric Liddell. Unlike others, Liddell was
selfless and generous. Of him Gilkey wrote,
“It is rare indeed when a person has the good fortune to meet a saint, but he
came as close to it as anyone I have ever known.”[3] What was the difference? Other religious people were just as selfish
as the rest. Gilkey gives a very
insightful explanation:
Religion is not
the place where the problem of man’s egotism is automatically solved. Rather, it is there that the ultimate battle
between human pride and God’s grace takes place. Insofar as human pride may win the battle,
religion can and does become one of the instruments of human sin. But insofar as there the self does meet God
and so surrender to something beyond its own self-interest, religion may
provide the one possibility for a much needed and very rare release from our
common self-concern.[4]
The crucial insight here is that
religion makes us better people when it is flavored by grace. It was the grace of God that had changed and
empowered Liddell’s life. But grace makes
absolutely no sense unless we see ourselves as unworthy of God’s favor. But how is that? We are unworthy because we are sinful,
because we do not deserve the grace of God.
And that is precisely what the apostle is at pains to point out in the
text before us. Paul makes the crucial
observation that people are not basically rational and moral, but selfish and
evil. And until we see this, all the
religion in the world will only make us “one of the instruments of human
sin.” It isn’t pleasant to dwell on
this, but it is absolutely necessary. We
need to see our need of grace if we are going to reach out for it. But to see our need of grace we first need to
see that we are sinful, that we have fallen short of the mark, that we deserve
the judgment and wrath of Almighty God.
But more than this, we need to see that we cannot make things right. It is not enough to see that we are
sinners, but we need to see that the only one who can truly make us right is
God. And that is where his grace and the
gospel comes in. Otherwise, we will just
end up becoming a bunch of self-deceived and self-righteous sinners who make
the world worse rather than better. But Paul
does both these things, arguing that we are not only sinful but that we need
God to make things right.
How does apostle do this? That brings us to the text.
Everyone needs to be made right
There are two main points that
the apostle wants to make in these verses.
First, he sums up the argument that all men are sinners: “What
then? Are the Jews better off? No, not at all. For we have already charged that all, both
Jews and Gentiles, are under sin” (3:9).
This is the summary of the first two chapters, for in chapter 1 the
apostle had argued that Gentile society was thoroughly corrupt and in chapter 2
he had argued that the Jewish people did not keep the law they were given. His point in this verse is that even though
the Jews do have these tremendous external advantages, like the law, they are
no better off than the Gentiles when it comes to sin.
Paul supports this assertion now
from Scripture in verses 10-18. This is
a new thing. You might have noticed that
up till now the apostle has not made direct reference to specific OT Scripture
passages. However, now he is at pains to
show that what he is teaching is no different from the teaching of the OT,
which was acknowledged by both Paul and his fellow Jews as being the undisputed
word of God. There is no disharmony
between OT and NT here: both teach the universal sinfulness of mankind. So to establish his point, the apostle quotes
several passages from the Psalms (14,5, 10, and 36, in that order) and one from
Isaiah 59.
Now I want to pause here and
consider what appears to be a problem with Paul’s use of the OT. It is obvious that his main purpose in
adducing these OT texts was to support his statement, made in verse 9, that all
men are sinners. Then we jump into
verses 10-12, “as it is written, ‘None is righteous, no, not one . . .’.” That makes sense: all are sinners, just as
the Scriptures say.
But there is a problem. If you read the text in Psalm 14, it becomes
obvious that David did not consider everyone to be unrighteous, because just a
few verses down in the psalm, David describes the people of God as the
righteous. In the psalm, David looks out
at the enemies of God and says of them, “There is none righteous.” Then he contrasts their condition with the
condition of the people of God, and says, “God is in the generation of the
righteous” (Ps. 14:5). So the
unrighteousness in Psalm 14 is not universal, whereas in Romans 3, that is the
verdict which the apostle Paul brings upon the human race. How do we deal with this problem?
To begin with, we can say that
the apostle Paul did not intend for his entire argument to hinge upon this
text. As we have already pointed out,
Paul refers to several OT Scriptures.
And when we look at the various texts, it is not always possible to
determine whether the writer had the people of God in mind or their
enemies. But one text is crystal clear:
in Isaiah 59, God is addressing the people of Israel through the prophet, and
this is what he says: “Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed
innocent blood: their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; wasting and
destruction are in their paths. The way
of peace they know not” (7,8). So, when
these various texts are taken together, it is clear that the apostle’s case is
soundly built, and that both the enemies of God’s people and the OT people of
God themselves – the Jews – are sinners before God.
Then from the Psalms we also know
that even though there are righteous people as well as unrighteous people, the
righteous only get that way through the mercy of God. In other words, we are all sinners by nature
and it is only the grace of God that puts us in the category of the
righteous. So, for example, in Psalm 5
(which Paul also quotes in the words “their throat is an open sepulcher”),
David contrasts himself with the wicked by calling attention to God’s mercy:
“But as for me, I will come into thy house in the multitude of thy mercy: and
in thy fear will I worship toward thy holy temple” (Ps. 5:7). If it is true that is it only the mercy of
God which makes a difference in our lives, then it is a fact that we all start
out as sinners. David recognizes this
fact elsewhere when he says, “Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did
my mother conceive me” (Ps. 51:5). And
so Paul’s point is still made.[5]
As we look over verses 10-18, we
see that there are at least four debilitating realities about sin that we need
to consider.
First, these verses teach us that
sin pervades human nature and that we are its slaves. The apostle says in verse 9 that all men are
“under sin.” We are under sin as a slave
is under his master. Sin exercises
dominion over us. Jesus said, “everyone
who commits sin is a slave to sin” (Jn. 8:34).
This domination of sin pervades every aspect of our lives: our thoughts,
our affections, and our actions. And
this domination continues until, by God’s grace, the power of sin is broken in
our lives.
It is important to understand how
deep sin has penetrated into the very depths of our being. Sin is not like a disease which we catch,
like a cold. It is not an occasional
mishap or thing that we do. Rather, sin
is a part of the warp and woof of human nature, so that nothing less than the
power of God can free man from its bondage.
Second, these verses teach us
that sin is universal. “All .
. . are under sin. . . . None is righteous, no, not one; no one
understands; no one seeks for God.” It
is obvious that the apostle wants us to understand that none are exempt from
the guilt of sin. Do you know what this
means practically? It means that I
am a sinner. Yes, the person next to you
is a sinner too, but don’t forget that the universal statements that the
apostle is making mean that you are a sinner also. As Paul says just a few verses later, “All
have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (3:23, KJV). And that means you and I have sinned and in
doing so have robbed God of the glory he deserves. We are all traitors against heaven.
It is so easy to breeze past
verses like this without realizing how they apply to us. It is so easy to look at Romans 3:10-12 and
see how they teach the doctrine of total depravity, memorize them, and yet
never see how they speak to us personally.
Let these verses hit you between the eyes, as they were meant to
do! If I am a sinner, then the gospel is
a weighty and wonderful thing. It is a
terrible thing to reject it and a wonderful thing to receive it with all our
heart.
The third thing these verses
teach us about sin is what it does. It
turns men against God. Note how Paul
begins and ends this string of quotations: “no one seeks for God . . . . There
is no fear of God before their eyes” (11, 18).
This is really the defining mark of sin.
Sin is not mainly what we do to other people. Sin is mainly what we do to God. This is why it is so tragic that so many
people are able to convince themselves that they are pretty good people while
all the time they neglect God and leave him out of their lives, preferring
instead their vacations and their houses and their cars and their work. Whatever you may think of a failure to seek
God, to God it is incredibly offensive to say to him, in effect, “God, I like
my things and my hobbies and my accomplishments more than your fellowship, so
stay out of my life.” It should sober
those of us who treat God so to reflect on the fact that God is the one who
will be the final arbiter of what sin is and what it is not.
Fourth, sin turns men against
each other. In verses 13-17, Paul
draws attention to our mouth and to our actions, and the sins that are
associated with both. In verses 13 and
14, we have the sins of the mouth. Note
the progression from the throat to the tongue to the lips to the mouth. It seems that the apostle is wanting to show
how that the sins of the mouth emanate from our heart, for the progression is
from that part of the faculty of speech that is nearest our heart (the throat)
proceeding upward to the lips. For “out
of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh” so that “by thy words thou
shalt be justified and by thy words thou shalt be condemned” (Mt. 12:34, 37,
KJV). See also Prov. 10:11; Eph.
4:29-32.
The next three verses deal
primarily with our actions (15-17), concentrating on the violence that men do
to each other. Thus the apostle is
claiming that men by nature are murderers, at least in the heart. Jesus said that if you are angry with your
brother without a (just) cause, you have broken the commandment, “You shall not
kill.”
A friend of mine once read
Dostoevsky’s book, Crime and Punishment.
It is about a student who murders someone but then can’t live with the
guilt. The actual murder comes close to
the beginning of the story, and the rest is spent describing the way the young
man tried to rationalize his crime. My
friend said that what was so terribly enlightening to him was that as he read
these various self-justifications, he came to realize that he had made many of
them himself in different contexts.
We may not realize it, but except
by the grace of God we have the same pent up venom in our own hearts. Our hearts are so deceitful that we fail to
realize that the only reason we don’t kill our neighbor is because of the
police or societal expectations or what would happen to us if we got
caught. But God knows our hearts, even
if we do not: “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick;
who can understand it? I the LORD search
the heart and test the mind, to give to every man according to his ways,
according to the fruit of his deeds” (Jer. 17:9-10).
Why we cannot make things
right
The second point the apostle
wants to make is that universal sinfulness leads to universal guilt and the
fact that we are ourselves unable to deal with it: “Now we know that whatever
the law says it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may
be stopped and the whole world may be held accountable to God” (19). This again is a summary of what he has been
stating all along. All men are sinners
and therefore we all stand before the judgment seat of the Almighty God with
nothing to say in our defense. We are
not only sinners, but we are sinners without hope if left to ourselves.
Verses 19 and 20 are the crux of
Paul’s argument here, so let’s pause to consider them in a little more
detail. Here is, I think, the overall
argument: the passages that Paul has quoted in the previous verses (10-18) do
not only apply to the heathen enemies of God’s people but to the Jews as
well. That is the reason he begins by
saying, “Now we know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who are
under the law.” Again, recall what a
difficult thing it was to convince the kind of Jew that Paul himself had been
that he was not safe simply for being a Jew.
Paul is saying that what applies to Gentiles also applies to Jews as
well. They cannot escape the verdict of
sinfulness and the guilt consequent upon it.
The result of this (“so that” –
ver. 19) is that every mouth, Jew and Gentile, yours and mine, will be
stopped on the day of judgment and all the world become guilty before
God (19). The next verse tells us why
this is so: “For by the works of the law no human being will be justified in
his sight” (20). The Jews believed that
having the law would save them. But no
one keeps the law and so everyone stands liable to the wrath of God.
The last part of verse 20 tells
us why the law cannot save: “since through the law comes knowledge of
sin.” The “knowledge of sin” is not an
understanding of what is right and wrong based on the law. Otherwise, that would mean that it is our
knowing what is right and wrong that deprives the law of its ability to
save. But that doesn’t make a lot of
sense. Rather, what Paul means by this
is that the law shows us that we are corrupt and sinful before God. This is what the law does: it shows us what
holiness is and by this shows us that we are not holy. This being the case, the law cannot save,
since it can only show us how we fail.
It certainly cannot justify us before God.
To see how this works, let’s look
at some parallel verses later in this epistle.
In chapter 7, Paul writes, “What then shall we say? That the law is sin? By no means!
Yet if it had not been or the law, I would not have known sin. For I would not have known what it is to
covet if the law had not said, ‘You shall not covet.’ But sin, seizing an opportunity through the
commandment, produced in me all kinds of covetousness. For apart from the law, sin lies dead”
(7:7-8).
Here the apostle says that the
law gave him the knowledge of sin. How
did it do this? In this way: Paul
thought that at one point in his life he was a good person. But then one day he realized that the law not
only governs our outward actions but also our inward motivations. Evidently, Paul hadn’t thought of the law in
this way, but he began at once to make a concerted effort to avoid coveting at
any cost. The only problem was that Paul
began to realize that he couldn’t do it.
The more he strived against sin the more ingrained it became. The more he thought about the law, the more it
stirred up the corruption within.
That’s what the law does. When holy law meets a dead and depraved
heart, you get sin. That is the way
human nature is: if you tell children not to touch something, they immediately
want to touch it, even though they may not have cared about it before. And we are not much different from
children. Before the law comes to us,
sin is dead, dormant, so to speak. That
doesn’t mean that apart from the law we are sinless, obviously. But it does mean that when we notice the authority
of the law in a particular instance, immediately all the sin within rises up to
meet the authority with rebellion. Thus
Paul goes on to say, “I was once alive apart from the law, but when the
commandment came, sin came alive and I died” (7:9). That is, he was alive before God in his own
estimation, but then the commandment came in force, stirred up the sin within
his heart, and he died to any hope of achieving the favor of God through
law-keeping.
Now let’s recapitulate the
apostle’s argument in these verses by working through their logic. First, the law brings the knowledge of sin –
the realization that I am a sinner. Then
we realize that we cannot justify ourselves by our own attempts at law-keeping. And because we are not able to justify ourselves,
Jews who have the law in Scripture and Gentiles who have the law in their
hearts by nature, we are all guilty before God.
For all are sinners, at the Scriptures attest.
That’s the overall argument. Paul wants us to see the implications of
universal sin. But it is not only that
we need redemption, as important as that is.
It is that our need is so great that we cannot undo the damage on our
own. That is what he is trying to get
across here. There is this cancer called
sin. You cannot plant a Band-Aid over
it; you need someone else to come in an operate on you and take the cancer
out. You cannot do it yourself; if you
try you will only make things worse. And
that’s what religion apart from Christ really is: it is man’s attempt to
operate on himself. But instead of
taking out the cancer, we tend only to make it spread. We need God’s grace and God’s hand to save
us. We cannot save ourselves: God must
do it.
The good news is that in Jesus
Christ, God has done it, and that is what the apostle will go on to say in the
coming verses. Through the redemptive
work of Jesus Christ, the sin that we cannot conquer and atone for has been
conquered and atoned for. And by God’s
eternal purpose, it is simply by trusting in Christ that we become connected to
his saving work and are embraced in the grace of God forever. Once you understand the desperate nature of
our condition, that is good news indeed and suddenly the gospel makes perfect
sense.
[1]
Quoted in Timothy Keller, Making Sense of God (Viking, 2016), p.
251. The material on Gilkey is found in
the epilogue, pages 247-254. Keller, in
turn, is recounting Gilkey’s own story found in the book, Shangtung
Compound.
[2]
Ibid, p. 252.
[3]
Ibid, p. 253.
[4]
Ibid, p. 254.
[5] I
am indebted to John Piper’s exposition of this passage for these insights.
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