Jason Micheli's Blog, page 33

Jesus' Breath is the Arrow of Time

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Readers will have noticed that I am preaching my way through Paul’s Epistle to the Romans. In a pivotal chapter, Sin, a character that has dominated the drama in the letter’s first seven chapters, exits the stage. In its place Paul introduces a character only seldom mentioned heretofore, the Holy Spirit. Auditors rightly fix on the announcement of the absence of condemnation in the first verse, but chapter eight is in fact the New Testament’s most sustained treatment of the work of the third triune identity:

For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death. 3For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do: by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, 4so that the just requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. 5For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. 6To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. 7For this reason the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law—indeed it cannot,8and those who are in the flesh cannot please God. 9 But you are not in the flesh; you are in the Spirit, since the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. 10But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. 11If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you. 12 So then, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh— 13for if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. 14For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. 15For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ 16it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, 17and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.

About the “pneumatological problem,” Robert Jenson asks an important question— perhaps the question:

“How can the Spirit be the love between the Father and the Son and still be a personal identity along with the Father and the Son?”

That is, how can a relation also be a person?

Jenson creatively suggests that the confusion in the church— East and West— is due to construing the Trinity in terms of origins (the pagan move) rather than Ends (the plot of the biblical narrative). Submitting the triune identity to scripture, Jenson posits that the question about the Spirit should be flipped around. “The Spirit is himself one who intends love,” Jenson writes, “who thus liberates and glorifies those on whom he rests; and therefore the immediate objects of his intentions, the Father and the Son, love each other, with a love that is identification with the Spirit’s gift of himself to each of them.”

Construals of the divine life in terms of origins leads to a-biblical abstractions. No doubt this accounts for the relative absence of the Spirit in the proclamation of many churches. However, Jenson argues, “if the eschatological character of the gospel’s plot line is recognized,” Paul’s identification of the Spirit as deriving his energy from the Son becomes both clear and necessary.

The Holy Spirit is the presence to us in the present of the Risen One who lives in the Last Future.

Jenson writes:

“The life that the Spirit enables as the divine life has its plot from the Son’s relations to the Father and to the Spirit; it is Christ who gives the Spirit to Israel and the church, that very Spirit who does not derive his being otherwise than from the Father and who is in himself the perfection, the liveliness, of the divine life. Here too the Cappodocians were ahead of their followers: according to them, the Spirit receives his existence from the Father, but lives eternally with and in the Son.”

Again, the Spirit’s status as both relation and identity becomes intelligible not in terms of essence and being but according to the biblical plot. The great metaphysical claim posed by scripture is that what we call creation and history is in fact a story ordered to an eternally desired Outcome. The gospel’s supposition then is that “to say that the Holy Spirit is without qualification “one of the Trinity” is to say that the dynamism of God’s life is a narrative causation in and so of God.”

Jenson continues:

“It is in that the Spirit is God as the Power of God’s own and our future and, that is to say, the Power of a future that also for God is not bound by the predictabilities, the Spirit is a distinct identity of and in God. The Spirit is God as his and our future rushing upon him and us; he is the eschatological reality of God, the Power as which God is the active Goal of all things, as which God is for himself and for us those things not seen that with us call for faith and with him are his infinity. When creedal articles for the Spirit end with resurrection and life everlasting, they merely specify what the Spirit in himself as person is.”

Or, as Paul himself puts it in Romans 8.9:

The Spirit that is Holy is the Spirit of the Risen Jesus.

According to the New Testament as a whole:

The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of the creating word, both of the Hebrew prophets and of the church.

The Holy Spirit is poured out in baptism to make the totus Christus.

The Holy Spirit is the bond of this body, the body of the Risen Jesus.

The Holy Spirit is the power of the resurrection both now and eternally.

The Holy Spirit is all these things because, as Paul attests, he is the Spirit of Christ.

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When Scripture Speaks of Saving Faith, It’s Faith from Someone

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James, 1.18-25

The lectionary epistle for this Sunday is from the beloved and/or loathed Letter from Jesus’s brother James.

Here’s a sermon from the vault on the passage:

True story— I heard it on NPR:

One warm summer night in DC, eight friends gathered around a backyard supper table. Toasting family and friends, clinking wine glasses, laughing— they were throwing a celebration. 

“It was one of those great evenings,” the celebrant of the party, Michael, told the host of Invisibilia, “lots of awesome food and french wine. It was a magical night.” 

It was getting late, he remembers, maybe around 10:00 PM, when it happened. 

“I was standing beside my wife. And I just saw this arm with a long-barrel gun come between us. It was as if in slow motion…this hand and a gun, and then it just really quiet.” 

The trespasser was a man of medium height in clean, high-end sweats. The trespasser raised the gun and held it first to the head of Michael’s friend, Christina, and then to the head of Michael’s wife and then he said: “Give me your money.” 

And he kept repeating it, louder and louder. 

“The problem was,” Michael said, “none of us had any cash.”

So the celebrants started to grasp for some way to dissaude the instruder out of his trespass, grasping for some way to change his mind. 

But then—

One of the women at the supper table, his friend Christina, piped up and she spoke a strange word, a word that passed from her lips to the trespasser’s ears and cut through all the angry noise and frightened chattering. 

She said: “We’re celebrating here. Why don’t you have a glass of wine?” 

“The words, her invitation…it was like a switch. You could feel the difference it made,” said Michael to Invisibilia. “All of a sudden, the look on the man’s face changed. The words arrested him. It was like the words gave him something he didn’t know he was searching for.” 

According to Michael— 

The trespasser tasted the wine offered to him in spite of his trespass. “That’s really good wine,” the trespasser said to Michael. 

“We had some bread too,” Michael added, “so he reached down for some of it but because he had the wine glass in his other hand…he put the gun in his pocket to free up his hand.”

The trespasser drank his wine. 

And then the trespasser said something surprising: “I think I’ve come to the wrong place.” Everyone stood there in the backyard garden, the trellis walls like a sanctuary and the treetops a steeple, everything silent as a grave save the thrum of summer insects. 

Then the trespasser said something strange: “Can I get a hug?”

First Michael’s wife embraced him. 

Then his friend Christina embraced him. 

Finally, like they had no choice— like they had to celebrate with him— the whole party gathered around and embraced the trespasser. “I’m sorry,” the man said, “I’m sorry I trespassed against you.” And then he walked out into the street, still carrying the wine as though he were savoring still at how he’d been given it. 

In the episode of Invisibilia, Michael’s story is cited as an example of what psychologists call noncomplementary behavior. 

But in the Church, Michael’s story is an example of what scripture calls saving faith. Michael’s story of the word of invitation to the trespasser who trespassed against them— it’s an example of how saving faith works. 

Now, I know that’s not immediately obvious to you so I’m going to say it again. 

Michael’s story is an example of how faith works. 

Despite the word on the street, the gossip’s got him all wrong. 

St. James in his four page letter— and keep in mind, it’s just four pages— does not contradict the teachings of the Apostle Paul, which, keep in mind, total almost two hundred pages of your New Testament.  And you don’t need to take my word for it. 

According to Luke in the Book of Acts, James, who was Jesus’ half-brother and the leader of the Church in Jerusalem, eventually agreed with the Apostle Paul’s preaching.  In the Book of Acts, Luke records James agreeing with the Apostle Paul that absolutely nothing should be added to the Gospel of Grace. And nothing can substract from your standing in it.

So if you hear James here exhorting you that God’s work of grace in Jesus Christ requires you to respond with good works of your own, then read it again. Read it through the Apostle Paul rather than alongside him because, well, it’s two hundred pages to four pages, and James himself says that’s how you should read him. 

In fact, James here in chapter one is riffing on what St. Paul says in his Letter to the Romans: “Faith comes from what is heard and what is heard comes by the preaching of Christ.” And what James tells us here in chapter one echoes what St. Paul tells the Corinthians: “No one can confess Jesus is Lord— no one can have faith— except by God.” In other words, saving faith comes not from within but from without. 

Faith is not your doing— that’s Paul to the Ephesians. 

James makes the same point in this text. “In fulfillment of his own purpose,” James writes, “God gave us birth…” God gave us birth as believers. That is, God gave to us faith. How? By “the word of truth,” James says. By the promise— by the Gospel of grace. 

And God gives us faith, James says, “so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his creatures.” 

Fruit— just like Paul and just like his brother Jesus, the controlling image that James chooses is a passive one. We’re not the Gardener. We’re not even the plant. We’re fruit. God gives us faith not so that we will go do. God gives us faith so that we might become fruit— signs— of what he has done. 

It’s not so much that we are to bear fruit. It’s that faith makes us fruit. A couple of verses down from here, James continues with the metaphor of God as Gardener by calling the Gospel the implanted word.

What James tells you here is no different than what the Apostle Paul preaches in the other two hundred pages of the New Testament. Namely, God uses the Gospel promise to plant faith within us. 

The promise that Christ has died for all our sins, once for all, that everything has already been done, that nothing needs to be done to redeem you or your neighbor,createsfaith. 

You see, when scripture speaks of saving faith, it’s not primarily faith in something— you can have faith in all sorts of things, just ask the Golden Calf or Tom Brady fans. 

When scripture speaks of saving faith, it’s faith from someone. 

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"The Facts are Far Outweighed by the Resurrection of Jesus Christ"

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Here’s Barth’s prayer with which we ended the session:

Lord our God, you know who we are. People with good and bad consciences, satisfied and dissatisfied, sure and unsure people, Christians out of conviction and Christians out of habit, believers, half believers, unbelievers. You know where we come from, from our circle of relatives, friends and acquaintances, or from great loneliness. From lives of quiet leisure or from all manner of embarrassment and distress. From ordered, tense, or destroyed family relationships. From the inner circle or from the fringes of the Christian community. But now we all come before you and all our inequality equal in this. That we are all in the wrong before you and among each other. That we all must die someday that we all would be lost without your grace. But also in that, your grace is promised to and turned towards all of us through your son, Jesus Christ. We are here together in order to praise you, simply by allowing you to speak to us. We ask that this might happen. In the name of your son, our Lord. Amen.

For next Monday, we will read up to pages 175- 181:

Cd 221MB ∙ PDF fileDownloadDownloadShow Notes

Summary

The conversation explores the concept of election in the Christian tradition, focusing on Paul's letter to the Romans. The participants discuss the biblical basis for election and its implications for believers. They delve into the idea of predestination and how it relates to the work of Christ. The conversation emphasizes the cosmic and universal nature of God's election, highlighting the inclusion of all people and creation. They also touch on the importance of baptism and the sacraments in understanding election. The participants conclude by emphasizing the assurance and freedom that comes from trusting in God's love and mercy. In this part of the conversation, the participants discuss the concept of evil and how it fits into the narrative of God's election and predestination. They explore the tension between God's sovereignty and human agency, and the role of evil in the world. They emphasize the importance of understanding that evil is not equal to God or a force of equal power, but rather a shadow or absence of light. They also discuss the role of obedience and trust in living out the story that God is writing, and the need to avoid simplistic interpretations of events and search for meaning in the midst of trials.

Keywordselection, predestination, Romans, Paul, Holy Spirit, baptism, sacraments, assurance, freedom, evil, narrative, God's sovereignty, human agency, election, predestination, obedience, trust, meaning, trials

Takeaways

Election is a biblical concept that is often misunderstood or dismissed, but it is central to the Christian tradition.

The idea of predestination can be troubling if it is understood as excluding some people, but when seen as God's work for all of creation, it becomes a source of hope and assurance.

Baptism and the sacraments are tangible signs of God's election and should be valued as transformative acts of grace.

Trusting in God's love and mercy frees us from the anxiety of trying to prove our worthiness and allows us to live in the joy and freedom of being chosen by God.

Understanding election as a cosmic and universal reality helps us see the interconnectedness of all things and our responsibility to care for creation. Evil is not equal to God or a force of equal power, but rather a shadow or absence of light.

Obedience and trust are essential in living out the story that God is writing.

Avoid simplistic interpretations of events and search for meaning in the midst of trials.

God's sovereignty and human agency are both at play in the narrative of election and predestination.

Sound Bites

"He says to all of them, well, you were enemies. Well, you were crazy family members. Guess what? Guess what? For all of you, all of you, have done something."

"There's a problem with interpreting that in Christ so mystically that you don't know how it works. And then there's the opposite problem of treating it in a way that devalues the sac."

"If you leave us in question, you really missed the point. But when you see that he was delivered for us all, then the nature of election and God working all things out finds its proper resolution."

"The nature of evil is like darkness, a lie that brings darkness and obscures the truth."

"God's predestination can only awaken joy, pure joy, for this order is found in the divine predestination itself."

"Reality is so much bigger than what we see in the world. We are just a drop of rain compared to the immensity of God."

“He for Me and I for Him”

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Reminder: Our Adventures in Barth online series will resume tonight at 7:00 EST. Apologies for last week— I had an oncologist appointment that ran late and then…traffic.

The Old Testament lectionary passage for this coming Sunday is from the Song of Songs 2.8-13.

The erotic poem is neglected in much of the contemporary church, yet it was a crucial scripture for the ancient church who found in its dialogue between lovers a lens into the perichoretic love of the triune identity.

The theologian Robert Jenson dared to write a commentary on the Song of Songs and, unsurprisingly, it does not disappoint.

Jens writes:

The poem brings to the surface an underlying motif of the Song’s general construal of reality: whenever in the Song the lovers step outdoors or imagine themselves there, they enter an Eden, a nature furnished only with beautiful” fruitful, and sweet-smelling flora and populated by fauna far from red in tooth and claw, where even rainy weather appears only as something just past that brought the flowers. Also the comparison of the lover to roe-stag or gazelle, instead of, for example, lion or stallion—far greater compliments in macho societies—evokes the freedom and harmlessness of beasts in that first garden.

The love between the Lord and Israel is conflicted like all loves that must play out in this age, and other poems of the Song’s show that. Yet where the Lord is, there is what Christians have come to call “heaven”: the anticipation with God of the final kingdom and just so of Eden’s fulfillment, of the beautiful and peaceable kingdom.

Where the Lord comes, in the reading of Torah or the celebration of Eucharist or in any of a hundred events of his “real presence” among his people, something of the final and first-intended fulfillment opens to our experience; we are in “the gate of heaven,” as Martin Luther described the church. We have one foot in perfected Eden. And there we are even now one with the Lord.

We should note also that in this poem, unlike some others in the Song, it is the Lord who initiates his and Israel’s coming together. He runs to Israel and, standing outside the door like a lovestruck youth, implores her to come out. One need not approve all that piety has made of “Behold, I stand at the door and knock” (Rev. 3:20) to think of this saying of the risen Lord.

The theology allegorically solicited by this passage is thus more a theology of prevenient grace than is that of the opening poem.

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There is No Condemnation

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Slice Penny blessed us by preaching on Romans 8.1-17 this Sunday. In case you missed it, here is the podcast episode I recorded with Slice earlier this summer:

Tamed Cynic From Drug Trafficker to Gospel PreacherTamed Cynic is a reader-supported publication. If you appreciate the work, pay it forward by becoming a paid subscriber! Seriously, Slice is Exhibit A— it’s worth it… Listen now3 months ago · 7 likes · 1 comment · Jason Micheli

Romans 8.1-17

Before I begin, I would be remiss not to first thank God for the grace and mercy that allows me to be here today. To thank Jason for his generosity and inclusivity that has allowed me to be here today. My wife for her patience and long -suffering that has allowed me to be here today. And of course all of you for the hospitality and the love that's been shown since we got here this morning. Would you pray with me?

Gracious God, we give you thanks, for we know that all good things come from you. And Lord, you have blessed us with so many good things. But this morning we are particularly grateful for the gift of life, the gift of health, the gift of your word, and the gift of being able to worship you here now. So God, I would ask that the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts would be pleasing in your sight for you are our Strength and our Redeemer. Amen.

Well, it is hard to believe that I am here, here in this sophisticated church, filled with sophisticated people who are accustomed to hearing sophisticated sermons preached by your sophisticated pastor.

When Jason offered me this opportunity, I was filled with excitement and gratitude. But those euphoric feelings were fleeting and quickly replaced by feelings of unworthiness and nervousness. These feelings were augmented about a month back when I texted Jason to ask him if there was a specific passage or theme or topic that he wanted me to preach on.

And I did not hear back.

As I waited somewhat patiently to get a reply from one of the busiest and smartest people that you could find in my phone contacts, I heard from my best friend, Ricky Goldsmith. Ricky has been in prison for 22 years for a murder he did not commit.

Since 2018, we have been working tirelessly to prove Ricky's innocence and to help him find the freedom he desires and deserves. Ricky is undoubtedly the most faithful Christian I've ever met in my life. But as one would expect, his time in prison has proven to be a constant test of his faith.

Two years ago, Ricky lost his beloved mother after a valiant fight with cancer. On Easter Sunday this year, Ricky received word that both his younger brother and his son were each arrested on Easter morning for separate crimes. Three weeks ago, as I was preparing to head to my final Sunday at the church where I served as an intern this past summer,

I received a collect call from Ricky. Immediately, I knew that something was not right. His voice lacked the power and the joy that I have grown accustomed to hearing. He told me that he had just gotten word that his son, who had continued to get into trouble, now had a bounty on his head as a result of his criminal actions.

Ricky sounded afraid, but Ricky told me he was angry. He went on to explain that he did not want to feel angry anymore as it served to remind him of who he was and how he was before giving his life to Christ. Now I am no psychologist and don't presume to speak like one, but I do imagine the feelings of guilt for not being home to help raise his son and to try to keep him out of trouble caused Ricky to feel this unwanted anger. As I fumbled to find words to say, I was somewhat relieved to hear that automated voice announce, you have one minute remaining.

Thankfully for me, God did for me what I could not do myself and God spoke to Ricky. That night, Ricky had a dream where a voice said to him, read Romans chapter eight, verses one through 16.

When he woke up, he said he thanked God for the dream and read the passage on his knees by his bunk. The phrases, there is no condemnation and Christ Jesus has set you free, brought comfort to his heart and tears to his eyes. It is hard to think of a more comforting statement for an inmate to hear from God than in Christ Jesus, there is no condemnation.

A few days after this, I heard from Jason who told me about the sermon series that y 'all have been doing this summer. He explained to me that the assigned text for this Sunday for me to preach on was Romans, chapter eight, verses one through 17.

I was rendered speechless, something my wife can attest seldom happens to me.

And some may call it odd, some may call it a coincidence, but I call it God just being God. This God who loves us so much that not only would this God offer us reconciliation through Christ Jesus, but this God would remind us of this fact through scripture and even through dreams in a prison cell.

a God who insists that in Christ Jesus there is no condemnation. In prison, I met many men who had spent more time living in captivity than in freedom. I met many men who would never be released from prison, and I even met two men who were heading to death row. I quickly learned that prison was a dark

place in every meaning of the word. We were taught to always remember and to never forget that as inmates, we were all guilty, which meant we all deserved the cruel and unusual punishment that was administered day in and day out. Many of my fellow inmates had been taught on the streets that God wanted nothing to do with them or their sinful ways.

Based on this experience, coupled with their experience in prison, they were convinced that God definitely did not want anything to do with them. Their lives would be forever defined by condemnation, punishment, and captivity. This was the story that was told in the prison until one day when I heard Ricky minister.

to a struggling inmate. Ricky, a man who at that time had served 18 years for a murder he did not commit, was speaking to our fellow inmate named Eddie about freedom and forgiveness. Eddie had just become eligible to vote about 10 months prior to him being condemned to 40 years in prison. As expected, the weight of his sin and the consequences they carried weighed heavy on his young heart. The road ahead of him seemed so dark and endless that not even a flicker of light at the end was visible to his young tear -filled eyes. The future he had once hoped for had been replaced by a past he regretted and remained shackled to. As the young man rambled on to Ricky about how he would never be

free and how his life was over. Ricky interrupted him and said, don't you know that Jesus sets prisoners free? Don't you know that he may not tear down these walls or open up these doors? He may not grab your hand and walk you through that barbed wire covered fence, but Jesus will do something even better than that. He will take those chains off your heart. He will wash away the sins of your past and he will give you a future. Jesus will set you free.

Because in Christ Jesus, there is no condemnation. Victory over sin has proven to be a battle that we as humans cannot achieve. The Bible, especially the Old Testament, is filled with examples of this. But our own lives also serve as examples of this. Here, the paradoxical nature of Jesus' power is put on display. Jesus's arrest was intended to lead to defeat, but has proven to lead to victory. The cross was meant to represent death, but has come to mean everlasting life. The blood of Christ, thought to symbolize the end of his life, has proven to symbolize God's offering a new life for us. Jesus bore the

sins of the world, which meant that in Christ Jesus, there is no condemnation. This is the good news, the gospel. But this good news is not always easy news. It's so radical that it can be hard for us to believe. After my arrest, but before my condemnation, I mean, sentencing, I struggled greatly with guilt. Of course, I felt guilty for my crimes, but what I really struggled with were my spiritual transgressions. You see, I was baptized and reared in the church, and I'd been taught right from wrong. But I had become a liar, a cheater, a manipulator, a deceiver, and more. I had become the very person I swore I would never become.

Amidst all this pain, I hit rock bottom. I felt as hopeless as I did helpless. I felt as unworthy as I did unlovable. I felt as defeated as I did drained. Thankfully for me, my parents got me back in the church where God wasted no time in grabbing my attention. Similar to John Wesley,

I felt my heart strangely warmed. And as a result, I rededicated my life to Jesus. I began volunteering in the soup kitchen at our church, and I was even attending Bible studies with the men's group every Sunday morning before worship. But despite my efforts to do and to feel better each day, I struggled to make it through the day.

The weight of the guilt for my sins continued to press down on me, making it hard to find peace even through good deeds and spiritual endeavors. No matter how much I tried to atone, the burden seemed to grow heavier, leaving me feeling trapped in a cycle of shame and regret. My mom, although not formally trained as one, has acted as a plain -spoken theologian in my life.

for as long as I can remember. One day, my mom looked me dead in the eyes and asked me, do you think I have forgiven you for what you've done?

With a crack in my voice, I replied, yes.

She then asked, more importantly, do you think God has forgiven you for what you've done?

With a tear in my eye, I replied yes.

Finally she asked me, do you forgive yourself for what you've done?

With tears rolling down my cheeks. I said no.

Without missing a beat, my mom said, so you know better than God? Wait, what? No, I was taking it back. What is she talking about? Of course not. I would never say that. I would never presume to know better than God. Well, you might not have verbally said that slice, but if you refuse to forgive yourself, then you are saying that you know better than God because God has made it clear.

In Christ Jesus, there is no condemnation.

While this was far from easy for me to hear, it has proven to be one of the most liberating experiences in my life. Perhaps that is the good news that St. Paul has for us here today. That no matter who you are, what you have done or what you are doing, in Christ Jesus, there is no condemnation. To paraphrase Brandon Lake,

Our sin is deep, but God's grace is deeper. Our shame is wide, but Christ's arms are wider. Our guilt is great, but God's love is greater still.

What a comforting reassurance that death is no more because Christ is Lord. Many people, even those of us called Christians, struggle with carrying the weight of the guilt. And as a result, we condemn ourselves. Paul himself wrestled with this and his struggle is well documented.

You may remember Romans 7 verses 15 through 19 from a few weeks ago. I do not understand my own actions, Paul writes, for I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now, if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me.

For I know that nothing good dwells within me that is in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.

We cannot forget that Paul penned these words after his personal encounter with Jesus. Surely if St. Paul struggled with lingering sin and the guilt that it caused, we would be fools to expect immunity for ourselves. Paul was far from a stranger to sin and even self -identified as the chief sinner.

He went from church enemy number one to the embodiment of God's grace and redemptive power through Jesus Christ.

So how did Paul deal with this guilt? Well, he remembered that Christ died for us while we were yet sinners, which proves God's love towards us.

As your pastor once said in the book, Preaching Romans, Christ didn't die to make nice people nicer. Christ died so that ungodly cretins might become a new creation. Rather than sending us into eternal condemnation, God makes us new creations through Jesus. Paul penned this letter to the Romans by first describing sin.

and then describing justification. He did not describe his personal struggles with sin until after he reminded them that Christ had defeated sin and offered them the opportunity to become new people. God's infinite wisdom is put on masterful display here by God's using Paul to lead the early Christian movement. None of us fine folks here today at Annandale UMC can imagine how guilty Paul must have felt to be a sinner saved by grace, who knew Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior, who loved God, who wanted to honor God, but who continued to struggle with sin and the guilt and the shame that it caused him can we? Forgiveness is hard and we Christians are not immune from this. Sometimes the hardest person to forgive is the person you see in the mirror. I struggled with this just this past week. My mom had been telling me for quite some time that she had something she wanted to give me to read. She explained that after my arrest,

She chronicled my life leading up to my arrest per my attorney's instruction.

This letter described how much I had changed. It included details of how I had become a slave to sin. Reading this letter was the hardest thing that I've ever had

While I know my mom never intended for the letter to do this, reading this letter overwhelmed me with the guilt of my sins and the shame of all my mistakes. Simply put, I felt condemned. I couldn't help but ask God why. Why now?

Why did I get this letter this week? This is the week that I am supposed to preach your word. I'm gonna travel, I'm gonna head to Virginia and preach on Romans 8, 1 through 17. And some may call it odd, some may call it a coincidence, but I call it God just being God. Because it was as if God leaned down and whispered into my ear, in Christ Jesus, there is no condemnation.

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The Object of Faith

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For years I’ve been a fan of the podcast Queen of the Sciences, a collaboration between a seminary classmate, Sarah Hinlicky Wilson, and her theologian Dad.

I finally got to sit down with Paul Hinlicky for a conversation on theology, preaching, politics, and— of course— Robert Jenson.

And heads up!

Finally turning in the overdue manuscript for the new book:

Show Notes

Summary

Paul, a farmer and theologian, discusses his journey into farming and theology, his formation in the faith, and his theological influences. He emphasizes the importance of the object of faith and the danger of turning justification into the object of faith. He also addresses the issue of antinomianism in Lutheranism and the need to retain God's law. Paul and Jason discuss the misuse of the term 'genocide' in relation to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. They also touch on the challenges of engaging in the public square as a Christian. In this conversation, Paul Hinlicky discusses various topics including politics, preaching, the book of Joshua, the Gospel of Mark, and mental health. He expresses his concerns about the polarization in politics and the influence of corporate power on both major political parties. He also shares his experience of preaching and how it led to the creation of his book on preaching. Paul talks about his commentary on the book of Joshua and his love for the Gospel of Mark. He discusses the challenges of navigating disagreements and the importance of civil discourse. Lastly, he explores the topic of depression and the impact of lost connections on mental health.

Takeaways

Paul's journey into farming and theology was influenced by his love of gardening, interest in nature and ecology, and experiences in Central Europe.

The object of faith, particularly Jesus Christ as the incarnate Son of God, is an important aspect of Luther's theology.

There is a need to retain God's law and avoid antinomianism in Lutheranism.

The term 'genocide' should not be used lightly and should accurately describe an intention to decimate an entire people.

Engaging in the public square as a Christian can be challenging in a divided society. Both major political parties in the United States are influenced by corporate power, and Christians should be aware of this.

Preaching can be a transformative experience for both the preacher and the congregation.

The book of Joshua is a challenging and controversial book, but it offers valuable insights when studied closely.

The Gospel of Mark is a sophisticated and apocalyptic narrative that requires careful reading and interpretation.

Disagreements can be productive and lead to a greater understanding of truth if approached with respect and a common search for truth.

Depression is often misunderstood, and the current mass society contributes to feelings of isolation and lost connections.

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"We Remain at a Plateau of Horror"

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Here’s my latest conversation with Rabbi Joseph.

Show Notes

Summary

The conversation between Jason Micheli and Rabbi Prof. Joseph Edelheit explores the issue of anti-Semitism and its use as a tool for political division. They discuss examples of anti-Semitism being used in American politics, such as the resignation of university presidents and the portrayal of political figures as protectors or enemies of Jews. They also touch on the attraction of certain segments of the Jewish community to the MAGA movement and the complexity of representing the Jewish community's diverse perspectives. The conversation delves into the role of fear and manipulation in political discourse and the challenges of dialogue in a polarized society. They also discuss the new leader of Hamas and the ongoing conflict in the Middle East. The conversation explores the ongoing conflict between Israel and Palestine, the impact of Hamas, and the need for civility in dialogue. Rabbi Edelheit reflects on the horror and grief caused by the conflict, particularly the intentional denial of closure to the Palestinians. He questions the lack of accountability and the erosion of civility in political discourse. The conversation also touches on the importance of Jewish-Christian dialogue and the role of scripture in navigating these complex issues.

Takeaways

Anti-Semitism is being intentionally used as a tool for political division in American politics.

There is a complex range of perspectives within the Jewish community, including attraction to the MAGA movement.

Fear and manipulation are prevalent in political discourse and hinder productive dialogue.

The conflict in the Middle East, including the new leader of Hamas, adds to the complexity of the situation. The ongoing conflict between Israel and Palestine continues to cause immense suffering and grief.

Hamas' actions, such as intentionally denying closure to the Palestinians, contribute to the horror of the situation.

There is a lack of accountability and transparency in the political landscape, hindering progress towards resolution.

Civility is crucial in dialogue and engagement, and its erosion poses a threat to peaceful coexistence.

Jewish-Christian dialogue remains valuable and necessary in fostering understanding and trust.

Scripture provides guidance and reflection in navigating complex issues and promoting justice and compassion.

Sound Bites

"Anti-Semitism as an intentional act of additional division in American politics."

"Anti-Semitism is being used as an intentional leverage of more division."

"Is there a sliver or swath of the Jewish community that does not see Trump in transactional terms, but is attracted to the movement and the strong man."

"We remain at a plateau of horror."

"Hamas took corpses back to Gaza, which for me is a new definition of an intentional unthinkable act."

"Shouldn't we talk about that?"

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All Your Sins are Free

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The lectionary epistle for this coming Sunday is Ephesians 6:10-20.

In the New Testament, the language of clothing is always the language of baptism. And so at the end of Ephesians, the apostle Paul tells us to put on the whole armor of God. That is, to clothe ourselves in faith and truth and righteousness. To a mostly gentile audience, St. Paul is simply alluding here to the Hebrew prophet Isaiah, who promised that the messiah would come forth from the root of Jesse. This Christ, Isaiah prophesied, would kill with the truth of his word. This Christ, Isaiah foreshadowed, would be girded with righteousness and faith.

Though putting on the armor of God sounds like something we do— have more faith, speak more truthfully, live a more righteous life, put on that armor— every Roman citizen among Paul's listeners would have known what we so often miss about this passage. A Roman soldier's armor was not something the soldier could put on by himself. A Roman soldier's armor was not something the soldier put on himself. It was too heavy. The armor had to be put on you by another. The helmet laid on you by another. The belt cinched tight behind you by another. The armor of God isn't something you do. The armor of God is about something done to you. The armor of God— faith, truth, righteousness— is none other than Jesus Christ.

To put on the armor of God is to be clothed with Christ.

To put on the armor of God is to be baptized.

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It is Better to Risk Preaching Too Much Gospel

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Every week there are illustrations, quotes, and exegesis that fail to find a home in the finished sermon. In preparing to preach on Romans 7, I ruminated on this bit from a conversation between Karl Barth and a group of pietists.

In October 1959, Karl Barth met for conversation at a Basel restaurant with twenty-five representatives of the Evangelical Community Movement. During the Q/A time, members of the group pressed the theologian for not taking sin sufficiently seriously in his teaching and for the absence in his preaching of any exhortation to repentance. “You never make it plain that if they do not accept the message, then they risk being lost eternally,” they objected to Barth.

In typical fashion, Barth neither accepted the premise of their questions nor capitulated to their presentation of normative Christianity.

Barth:

“In Christ” all are what believers may already believe they are. This is what we are told in the New Testament. In Christ all are justified, sanctified, and born again— in other words, that in which believers already believe. Of course not everyone believes. Indeed we can also respond with unbelief. Faith is an event between me and the Word…Even the community must still let itself be reconciled with God. It too should take to heart that which is told to the world.

Miller:

“Is sin really the “impossible possibility?” At some point it could be too late for repentance. The final emphasis on this point is missing in the Church Dogmatics.

Fischer:

“Human beings can in fact reject grace. What are the consequences for our proclamation? Proclamation confronts the person with the decision and transmits the gift of salvation. Our preaching is given its weight with the possibility of rejecting this gift— “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts.”

Barth:

“I must admit that I am not very comfortable when you say that the possibility of being lost must be mentioned, for instance, at the conclusion of an evangelical address. What then is proclamation all about? It is about tirelessly calling sinners to repentance, and to do so in the same manner that Jesus did it. He made himself common with sinners. Certainly the danger of being lost lurks behind sin, behind unbelief. Indeed, that is how it is presented in the Bible— more strongly in the New Testament than in the Old! But does it appear there as an independent theme. Not even in Romans 2! What is important is the call to human beings to take the step toward the place where they already belong. Is it not the case in scripture that evil is indeed sighted, but that the proclamation nonetheless always continues onward? That in paraclesis and paraenesis human beings are always only called back to where they belong?

All of this has its significance especially within the the Christian community. The task of the believer is to call the nonbeliever to repentance. But where actually is the unbeliever? In me, of course! I myself am first and foremost the one who does not believe. In Romans 7 Paul finds the sin in himself. Then, however, Romans 8.1 continues with the victory of Christ. That the possibility of unbelief exists is something we know, we Christians above all others, and above all about ourselves! But we also know what is stronger and greater than all sin. If we console ourselves for the “sin that dwells within us” with the einai en Christo, must we then not also grant it to poor rogues, to “those standing outside?” The first word of the sermon, the gospel of the Yes of God, must also always be its last word.

In light of the danger of sin, unbelief, and lostness— I do not wish to flee to the law. The real danger is always falling back into the law. My concern about Pietism is that in it the law is always reignited from the embers.

[To Schindelin]

It did not please me to hear that, at the end of the sermon, people are dismissed with a threat. We know about the possibility of being lost. Indeed, we state it, as does the Bible. But there is something more important! Indeed we also know what is still better. After the word about being lost in John 3.16, there immediately follows in verse 17: “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” The negative is expressed— but only in the context of the gospel. In Revelation 14.6, it is precisely the angel of judgment that appears with the eternal gospel. Indeed, even the judgment of God is in reality salvation. God is, first of all, creating order. Sin is neither the first nor the last. Let us speak earnestly about sin, but within this context of the gospel of the one who in truth is “the first and the last.”It is better to risk the danger of proclaiming too much gospel than risking the other danger of speaking too little about sin.”

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"I" is Dead

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Romans 7.11-24

What seals the death of Jesus Christ is neither his temple tantrum nor his profligate violations of the holiness codes. What dooms Jesus is the fact that he raised his friend from the dead. Just as the Word worked creation ex nihilo, the Lord Jesus had commanded his friend no longer to be dead, “Lazarus, come out!”

Had Jesus done the deed in the dark he might have lived.

But there were spectators.

After Jesus has returned his dead friend to his sisters, John reports that a crowd of Jews, having witnessed Jesus speak Lazarus forth from the dead, began “believing into Jesus.” Some of these bystanders, John says, went and snitched on Jesus to the Pharisees and the Pharisees went and tattled to the chief priests and the chief priests went and squealed to the Head Priest, Caiphas. How does Caiphas respond to news of Jesus’s power over the power of Death?

Caiphas worries:

“If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe into him, and the Romans will come and destroy our nation.”

At this point in the Gospel narrative, Caiphas is in no way a villain. To interpret his response as anything other than a straightforward observation and sincere fear for his people is an imposition upon the text. When Caiphas hears Christ can raise the dead, he immediately worries about the fragility of the status quo. After all, a violent imperial army occupies his people whose tiny nation has been riven by foreign invaders for generations.

“If we let him go on like this…the Romans will come and destroy our nation.” This is nothing other than an honest and reasonable concern from the person appointed to be the intermediary between his people and their captors. As soon as Jesus summoned Lazarus out of his tomb in Bethany, the chief priests call an emergency council meeting in Jerusalem where Caiphas proffers a straightforward solution, “It is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.”

It is certainly a cold and cruel utilitarian proposition. Just so, it is true. It is better for one person to die than for all the people to die. And so, after Jesus wields his power over the power of Death, the chief priests set in motion a plot whereby Mary’s boy will become Pilate’s victim.

Again, it is an imposition on the text to impute villainy to Caiphas.Straightforwardly, Caiphas is trying to do the good.But through him, the power of Sin will crucify God.

The author of the Book of Common Prayer, Thomas Cranmer, famously distilled Protestant anthropology with the phrase, “What the heart loves, the will chooses, and the mind justifies.” William Faulkner registered a similar observation in his Nobel Prize speech, insisting that the most compelling theme in literature is “the human heart in conflict with itself.” Ironically, Faulkner later admitted that he had been drunk during his address.

Likewise, over the centuries interpreters have often read this portion of the Epistle to the Romans as an autobiographical digression, identifying the tortured “I” of these verses as the apostle Paul divulging his own post-conversation conflicted will. Thus Luther found in the letter’s seventh chapter a basis for his formula simul justus et peccator; the baptized believer is always simultaneously justified and a sinner. Four hundred years after Luther, Karl Barth commented on this passage by saying, “I am always still bound in a two-fold manner.” “When Paul looks at himself and takes stock,” Barth writes, “he finds that Saul is very much alive.” Having recently celebrated my twenty-fourth wedding anniversary, I could supply you with ample examples of how I also “do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” Frankly, I worry about anyone who does not identify with such self-assessment.

Nevertheless!

As my teacher Beverly Gaventa notes in her commentary, the epistle’s chapter divisions are not only a later addition to the text, they are in fact misleading.

Paul intended the Christians in Rome to hear his letter in a single sitting. When read not piecemeal but from start to finish, it becomes obvious that this passage is not about Paul (or, you and me) but the final spiral in Paul’s argument about the universal grasp of the powers of Sin and Death and their overturning by God in Jesus Christ. The vexed “I” in chapter seven is not a jarring autobiographical digression but part of the overall rhetoric of Romans.

The “I” in this passage is not Paul looking at himself and taking stock.The “I” in this passage is the final step in Paul’s diagnosis of Sin and Death.

Hence—

Paul begins his letter by unfurling a long indictment against a nameless “they.” “They were filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, covetousness, malice,” Paul writes in chapter one, “Full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, craftiness, they are gossips, slanderers, and God-haters.”

From a nameless they, Paul then moves to assert Sin’s reign over the whole of humanity. This is his argument Romans 3.9-20 and again in Romans 5.12-21.

From the whole of humanity, Paul brings the argument closer to home, writing that “we” too were once slaves under the dominion of Sin— that’s Romans 6.1-7.6.

Before breaking out with the good news of the absence of condemnation, Paul mounts the final movement of his argument about the reach of Sin’s grasp with the singular “I” in the balance of chapter seven.

From they to we to me.It’s one long argument that spiral downs to this “I.”

Therefore, this is not a bit of autobiography from Paul; this is the final examination of the workings of Sin. Paul has already put the law on the same side of the line as the anti-God powers, and now in chapter seven he posits that Sin’s voracious power was strong enough to colonize even the law; such that, even someone who sought the Good could instead be doing the work of God’s Enemy.

Eve Fairbanks is a former political journalist who released her first book in 2022. The Inheritors is a detailed portrait of South Africa’s racial reckoning after the end of apartheid. In conducting interviews and investigative research, Fairbanks reports she was surprised to discover that, thirty years later, many white, progressive Afrikaners who had advocated for and welcomed the end of apartheid now harbor racial resentments and racist attitudes.

In an Atlantic article entitled “When Racial Progress Comes for White Liberals,” Fairbanks writes:

“Over the decade I lived in South Africa, I became fascinated by South Africa’s white minority, particularly its members who considered themselves progressive. They reminded me of my liberal peers in America, who had an apparently self-assured enthusiasm about the coming of a so-called majority-minority nation. For being such a tragedy, apartheid seemed to have a miraculous conclusion—a rapid and peaceful end that spared even the defeated oppressors…

Unexpectedly, white people benefited materially from the end of apartheid. Thanks in part to the lifting of foreign sanctions, the average income of white households increased 15 percent during Nelson Mandela’s presidency, far more than Black incomes did.…And for the many white progressives who had opposed apartheid, South African society moved far closer to their ideal of racial equality…

Yet these progressives’ response to the end of apartheid was ambivalent…In so many ways, white life remained more or less untouched, or had even improved. Despite apartheid’s horrors—and the regime’s violence against those who worked to dismantle it—the ANC encouraged forgiveness [according to God’s commandment]. It left statues of Afrikaner heroes standing and helped institute the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which granted amnesty to perpetrators of apartheid-era political crimes…But as time wore on, a startling number of formerly anti-apartheid white people began to voice bitter criticisms of post-apartheid society. An Afrikaner poet who did prison time under apartheid for aiding the Black-liberation cause wrote an essay denouncing the new Black-led country as “a sewer.”

What accounted for this reversal in those who had once taken risks to fight against evil?Fairbanks writes that it was black obedience to the law— specifically to the command to forgive— that fomented racism in those who once had been anti-racist.

“Black forgiveness,” Fairbanks heard over and over again, “felt like a slap on the face. White people rarely articulated these feelings publicly. But in private, with friends and acquaintances, I encountered them over and over.”

A fellow journalist, an Afrikaner, confessed to Fairbanks, “This hate now lurks even in a bleeding-heart liberal like myself.”

“I agree that the law is good, but I perceive that I am no longer the actor. Sin is.”

In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus insists that “No one can serve two masters.” “Either you will hate the one and love the other,” Jesus preaches, “or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other.” But in his Letter to the Romans, the apostle Paul asserts something far alarming, what Karl Barth called the “impossible possibility."

Two masters live within the “I” who speaks in chapter seven.

“I delight in the law of God,” Paul writes, “But I see…another law waging war and making me captive to the law of sin.”

The New Testament scholar Ernst Kasemann said that, for Paul, “anthropology is cosmology in concreto.” That is, the cosmic conflict between God and the anti-God powers— Sin, Death, and the Devil— is experienced concretely in the ordinary, daily lives of believers. For all its density, the progression of Paul’s argument is threefold.

Sin is at war with God.

Humanity is caught in the conflict.

Sin targets victims through the very commandments God gave to humanity.

This is Paul’s line of thinking in the first seven chapters of his epistle. This cosmic conflict that catches us up through the commandments explains Paul’s word choice in verses seventeen and twenty. Elsewhere when Paul affirms that Christ “lives” in us, the word he uses is zao and applies to Christ’s own life. By sharp contrast, when Paul says that Sin “lives in me” he chooses an altogether different verb, oikeo, which refers to the occupation of a space.

In other words, the “I” who speaks in chapter seven has been colonized by an intruder.And it’s not simply Paul’s word choice that highlights his theme of cosmic conflict, it’s his word count:

Across all of his letters, Paul uses the word sin (hamartia) eighty-one times.

Of those eighty-one occurrences, sixty appear in this epistle. 

Over two-thirds fall in Romans 5-7.

The word sin occurs five more times in chapter eight.

Paul is not the subject of this passage.

“Sin is.”

One historian told the journalist Eve Fairbanks that he thought that what dogged white progressives after apartheid ended was a feeling of irrelevance. Under apartheid, many of them felt they belonged to a vanguard. They expected the aftermath of apartheid to be an exciting time, full of the same thrilling work he had done to help build a democratic, multiracial future for the country.

They now resent the result of their good intentions.

The Afrikaner journalist Rian Malan, who opposed apartheid, told Fairbanks that, “by most measures, apartheid's aftermath went better than almost any white person could have imagined. But, as with most white progressives, his experience of post-1994 South Africa has been complicated.

Fairbanks writes:

“A few years after the end of apartheid, Malan moved to an upscale Cape Town neighborhood. Most mornings, he drank macchiatos at an upscale seaside café—the kind of cosmopolitan place that, thanks to sanctions, had hardly existed under apartheid. “The sea is warm and the figs are ripe,” he wrote. He also described this existence as “unbearable.”

He just couldn’t forgive Black people for forgiving him. Paradoxically, being left undisturbed served as an ever-present reminder of his guilt, of how wrongly he had treated his maid and other Black people under apartheid. “The Bible was right about a thing or two,” he wrote. “It is infinitely worse to receive than to give, especially if … the gift is mercy.”

Black South Africans had intended the Good in forgiving Afrikaners like Rian Malan, but through their work of forgiveness something else was willed.

The word sin appears sixty times in Paul’s Letter to the Romans. Almost all instances occur in these three chapters. And as in chapters five and six, Sin is the subject of a string verbs in the seventh chapter:

v.8: “Sin, by staking out its base of operations…produced.”

v.9: “Sin sprang to life.”

v.11: “Sin, staking out its base of operations…deceived me and even killed me.”

v.13: “Sin…produced death for me, so that Sin…might grow sinful.”

v.17: “Sin lives in me.”

v.20: Sin lives in me.”

Sin is not only the subject of all these verbs, in many ways Sin is the subject of the first half of Paul’s letter. Sin is the antagonist occupying center stage.

Sin is the main character in Paul’s dramatis personnae.But then— curiously— after the opening announcement of the next chapter, the word all but disappears.Sin vanishes from the stage.

In Destined for Joy: The Gospel of Universal Salvation, Al Kimel begins by explaining his reason for writing the book.

“First and foremost, I am a preacher of the gospel. I was ordained a priest in the Episcopal Church in 1980. I served as Curate in one congregation and pastored three others as Rector. Since 2011, I have been a priest (now retired) in the Eastern Orthodox Church and am addressed by my fellow Orthodox as “Fr Aidan.”

Ten years ago, on 15 June 2012, my second son Aaron died by suicide at the age of 32. He was brilliant and funny, articulate and eccentric. When he died, I was destroyed, as were my wife Christine and my other three children. Aaron was beloved and cherished by each of us. I was swallowed up in a fire of sorrow and grief that consumed everything inside of me.

I mean that quite literally. I quickly became an empty shell. I wept uncontrollably day after day for over a year. Four months after Aaron’s death, I decided to start a blog, which I named Eclectic Orthodoxy. My goal was simple—to hold onto that sliver of sanity I had left. I did so by determining to read the ancient Church Fathers and to summarize their thoughts.

Initially, my writing did not draw many visitors, but that was fine. I wasn’t doing it for anyone but myself.  What drew me to the Church Fathers and their reading of the gospel was their profound conviction that God is absolute love. The Father of the Lord Jesus, the ancient Christians held, would never condemn his children to everlasting torment.

Destined for Joy contains what I judge to be the best of my articles written on God’s total overcoming of the power of Sin and accomplished reconciliation of all human beings to himself in Jesus Christ.”

In other words—

Faced with the suicide of his son and his fear for his boy’s condemnation, Father Aidan turned to the church’s ancient tradition, seized by the question of whether the Lord Jesus’s victory over Sin is already or not yet. That is, Father Aidan was gripped by this question of Paul’s Epistle to the Romans: Is the “I” who speaks in chapter seven describing the world after Easter or before Good Friday? Is Sin still so powerful that this “I” is speaking of his present life as a believer, or is this “I” looking back on his prior peril inhabiting the world that crucified God?

Is the power of Sin still so powerful so as to conscript and condemn you?

Admittedly, it’s difficult to read an account like Eve Fairbanks’s portrait of post-apartheid South Africa and answer otherwise but “Yes.”

Yes, Sin’s rule remains.

Yes, “there is a second law in my limbs.”

Yes, the power of Sin still is powerful to colonize and conscript you.

And, just so, condemn you.

Nevertheless! The Word of God utters an altogether different verdict.

Once again, as my teacher notes, the letter's chapter divisions are misleading. Paul did not write a “chapter seven” and a "chapter eight.”

Therefore:

The entire point of the question which ends “chapter seven” (“Who will deliver me from the body ruled by this Death?”) is that the question has an answer!The whole point of asking the question is that it has an answer!The answer has already been adjudicated.And it’s a final answer.

The answer comes immediately in the next two verses which begin “chapter eight.”

“There is now no condemnation,” Paul answers the question, “for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

And this absence of condemnation, this disappearance of the word sin from the rest of the letter, this vanishing of the Enemy from the stage, Paul writes:

“That is because the law under the power of the Spirit that yields life in Christ Jesus freed you from the law under the power of Sin and Death.”

“I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.”

As much as we all might resonate with these verses, the “I” who speaks in Romans 7 is neither Paul nor you or me. The “I” who speaks in seven is the Old Adam, and by our Lord Jesus he is dead— drown in the baptism of Christ’s death and resurrection.

As Karl Barth writes:

“The justification of the sinner in Jesus Christ cannot be overthrown or reversed. Rejection cannot again become the portion or affair of man. The exchange which took place on Golgotha, when God chose as His throne the malefactor’s cross, can never be reversed. There is no condemnation— literally none— for those that are in Christ Jesus. Faith just is, as such and per se, faith in the non-rejection of men.”

Faith just is belief in the impossibility of your condemnation.

In other words, in God’s gracious humor— despite the Enemy who took him as a base of operations— Caiphas was correct. It is better for that one man to die than for all to perish.

Father Kimel concludes his introduction of Destined for Glory with a prayer request, “Please pray for the soul of my beloved Aaron. To him this book is dedicated. He is present on every page of every essay, in every sentence on the scriptures, in every word of theology. May his memory be eternal!”

Of course we can accept his request and prayer for his dearly departed Aaron. But we can, just as assuredly, ask Aaron to pray for us.

Because the “I” is dead.

There is no condemnation— literally none.

Paul’s question and all that it implies have ceased to be. What was once true is true no longer. What was not true is now true. All at once, Barth writes, there is cause only to be thankful.”

Therefore—

There is no where else to go with this passage but to the table, to the mystery of loaf and cup, body and blood, which Paul calls eucharist.

Thanksgiving.

“Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? 2Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

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