No Condemnation in Christ

I invite you, if you’re able, to turn to the book of Romans and to chapter 8 and to follow along as I read, in a moment or two, the first eight verses.

Now, I had to decide that there was something that I would say over these addresses, and I thought that I would like to stay in something that would be progressive as we studied it. And I know that you believe that all Scripture is equally inspired, but not every passage of Scripture is equally inspiring. And that is why—and you can check this on your own later—that is why we’re not going to launch into 1 Chronicles. But we are going to make an attempt, at least, in Romans chapter 8. So, you can read it for homework. You can plan ahead. It’s very rich, and we’ll have to be somewhat selective as we go. But nevertheless, we trust that the Spirit of God, using the Word of God, will do the work of God in each of our lives.

So, Romans 8:1:

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For 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 for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. For 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. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.”

This is the Word of the Lord. (Just checking on any present Anglicans, that’s all. Yeah. There we go. Thank you. There we go. That’s right. All the Baptists are wondering exactly what that is, but just ask around. You’ll be fine.)

Let’s have a brief prayer together:

Father, how we thank you for the privilege to assemble in freedom in this place, on this occasion, in the company of one another. And we thank you that we gather to you. We look from ourselves to your Word, to Christ, the Living Word. And we pray that your Word might plant itself afresh in our hearts, even as we ponder the vastness of all that Paul has said here by the Holy Spirit in the book of Romans itself. To this end we seek you, and we humbly anticipate that you, being such a good and gracious God, will match the feeble words of a small individual, being the voice piece of your living truth, to the individual needs of each of our lives this afternoon as we come in Christ’s name. Amen.

Well, of course, one of the reasons that I thought it would be nice to do Romans 8 is because it is such a comprehensive statement, beginning with “no condemnation” and ending with no separation. In the seventeenth century, Thomas Jacomb said of Romans 8, “From first to last, it is high gospel,” and “it is all gospel, (its matter being entirely evangelical).”[1]

We live in a time where it’s okay to be seeking. It’s just not okay to be finding.

I would imagine that most of us here are familiar with the notion of the gospel. We understand it’s the good news of all that God has done for us in Christ. But it is at this point in history—even as Jacomb in the seventeenth century says, “This is at heart evangelical.” In other words, it is pressing upon people the claims of Christ and the need to respond to Christ. And if the church is going to be equipped in doing that well, it is of vital importance that each of us has a deep-seated conviction about the truth, the relevance, and the power of the gospel—about its truth, about its relevance, and about its power. We’re not free to design a gospel of our own contriving, a story that somehow or another is acceptable to a compromised church or in a confused culture. Augustine said a long time ago, “If we choose only to believe what we want to believe about the gospel and reject the rest, it is not the gospel we actually believe; it is ourselves.”[2]

And the world in which we live, at various stages and in a variety of places—most of us in the Western world—is without question fascinated by spiritual things and at the same time amazingly confused. I have just come across a Spanish singer. I came across it by reading the London Times. I think her name is Rosalia, and her latest album has been covered by tremendous interest in the media. And she obviously is somebody of great influence, combining, the journalists say, an interest in spirituality with techno music and with classical instrumentation and so on. And I looked her up, and she announced the fact that she is interested in a “spirituality that lives in doubt as much as [it lives] in certainty.” “I,” she said, “resonate with Buddhism, Islam, Christianity, Hinduism. … All have things … I can relate to … [they] broaden my … idea[s] of spirituality.”[3]

And that, I think, is not a surprise to us, because we live in a time where it’s okay to be seeking. It’s just not okay to be finding. It’s not okay to be concluding. It is a time where the implications of a cultural malaise are obvious for all to see. I’ve been saying this everywhere for ages now, but our young people—students in particular—are living with three great lies: lie one, that there is no personal creator God; lie two, that there is no absolute morality; and lie three, that there is no ultimate truth. And if that is the timeframe in which they live and if that is the kind of consensus worldview that they’re tempted to embrace, then for us to go out into the thoroughfares of life—whether they are with our neighbors or our friends or our colleagues or our business associates or our grandchildren—we realize that if we’re going to hold true to the truth, the relevance, and the power of the gospel, it cannot be some kind of “harmlessly accommodating,”[4] vague theological tripe. We are stuck with the message as presented to us and given us in Jesus.

My next-door neighbor, our next-door neighbor in Solon for a long time, was a Jewish cardiologist at the Clinic—a wonderful man. I liked him very much. His name was Fred. And he wanted me dreadfully to become a Unitarian, because, he said, “we will get on far better if you can just lose the Jesus part.” And I told him, “Listen: First of all, Fred, you need to know that Jesus is the Messiah who came for you. But secondly, you say he isn’t the Messiah, and I say he is. We can’t both be right.” And Islam says that we can outweigh our bad with our good; that’s why they have scales. We have a cross, because we say, “No, we could never outlive our bad or outbid it. We need a Savior.” We can’t both be right.

The Solution to the Predicament of Sin

And so we have to recognize that what we are dealing with when we turn to the Scripture is the unerring Word of God. And it is here, as it begins in [chapter] 8 and verse 1 with “therefore.” “Therefore.” Paul has been writing now some seven chapters, and he has been dealing with the reality of life before a holy God. In short order, the story that he’s been proclaiming is this: “God made the world. We broke it. Jesus fixed it.” “God made it. We broke it. Jesus fixed it.” And the predicament that is conveyed there in those early chapters, particularly chapter 1… “Behind a facade of ‘wisdom,’”[5] we’ve been intrigued by all kinds of things and refused to give glory to God, and we pretend and worship various things. And he says there’s no hope in that at all—no hope, either, if you’re a religious person.[6] He goes into chapter 2, and in chapter 3 he hits the high spot, and he says the whole world is held accountable before God.[7] And from there, he moves on to the reality of all of the provision that has been made in Jesus. So I take it when he says “therefore,” he is referring to all that he has already proclaimed—maybe particularly in chapter 7 and chapter 6, but nevertheless, it all fits.

What is he saying? What? “Therefore” what? “Therefore,” he says, “there is … no condemnation.” “There is … no condemnation.”

Now, you need to go back and do your homework to realize that back in chapter 7, Paul has been articulating the fact that he is aware that he is a “wretched man.”[8] He’s a “wretched man,” he says. “The good that I want to do I don’t do, and the bad that I don’t want to do, I end up doing. Who will deliver me from this body of death?”[9] Well, that’s about the twenty-fourth verse of chapter 7, and here we are at the first verse of chapter 8, and he says, “There[’s] therefore now no condemnation to them [that] are in Christ Jesus.”[10]

So, is this a contradiction? No, it’s a paradox. It’s not a contradiction. Jim Packer, years ago—the late Jim Packer, speaking in Glasgow—used a wonderful illustration that helped me when I was young, and I’ve never forgotten it. He said if you think of the Christian life as being like a house, then if—depending on the way your house is situated on Planet Earth—but if you are in the north side of the house, where the sun is not penetrating, then it will be cool over there, and perhaps you wear a cardigan or something. When you go to the south side of the house, then the sun shines, and you can enjoy the benefits of that. Both are a reality within the house. And he says, “And both are true within the Christian life.”

Romans chapter 7 is, if you like, the north side, where we’re made aware of what we really are before God. And Romans chapter 8 takes us into the south side to say to us, “Even though we are what we are as redeemed sinners, be in no doubt: There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.” Every accusation that is hurled against us by the Evil One, who loves to unsettle us and undo us and complain about the mess that we’ve made of our lives or the difficulties that we’ve had of some time—our answer to that is to tell him to go back to where he belongs, “because” we have a “sinless Savior” who “died,” and as a result of that “my [guilty] soul is counted free, for God the just is satisfied to look on” Jesus “and pardon me.”[11] And that’s why there is now no condemnation.

Preaching on this, a fellow in Scotland years ago, a long time ago, in a big church near the center of Edinburgh, was asked by an indignant member of his congregation who had been working his way verse by verse through the book of Romans—and he came to the minister, and he said, “Tell me, minister: When will we get out of Romans chapter 7?” And he said, “As long as I’m your minister, you’ll never get out of Romans chapter 7.” And what he meant by that was: He was rebutting the idea of a kind of higher-life mentality that says there’s a way to spring out of chapter 7 and live entirely in chapter 8. But that’s neither true to the Bible, nor is it true to human experience.

And that’s why it makes it such a wonderful thing to be immediately reminded of. What? “When is there no condemnation?” Answer: Now. “Well, where’d you get that?” Well, it’s right in the sentence: “There is therefore now no condemnation.” It’s not a possibility held out in the future. It is a reality to be enjoyed as a present certainty. This is not a new element in Paul’s work here, because, remember, in Romans chapter 5 he said, “Therefore, by the grace of God, we have peace with God. Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God, in which we now stand.”[12]

And this, you see, is the remarkable thing about the gospel. Some of you will have already been in some of these cathedrals. Even today, I went into one, a small place—cost me 1.50 euros, which, as a Scotsman, is a very big stretch, I have to tell you. I don’t really know why I did it in the end, but I was embarrassed into it. Anyway… And I went in, and I took a few photographs, and there was a large Mary holding a little Jesus—as if somehow or another that Mary would be able to intercede when we couldn’t get through to Jesus. She could put in a good word for us.

I don’t know where you are. You may have come from a Roman Catholic background. If you have a deep conviction that there is no condemnation for those who are now in Christ Jesus, that is not because of your Roman Catholicism. That is only because of the truth of the gospel. And if you believe that, then you’re a kind-of-getting-nice Protestant, and you’re a lousy Catholic, okay? Because that is not Roman Catholic doctrine. “There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.”

Augustus Toplady, who wrote the hymn “Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me” (which is an amazing hymn, isn’t it?)—remember, he says in that hymn: “The glorified spirits in heaven” may be happier, but they are no more secure.[13] The glorified spirits of heaven—those of our loved ones who died in Christ and have been gathered to him—may be happier than we are, but they are no more secure than we are. Because once in Christ, in him forever.

What? No condemnation. When? Now. For whom? For those who are in Christ Jesus. There you are. We made it through a verse! We’ve only got a while to go. You’re going to say, “I wish you’d stayed off the boat. We could have got on a lot faster. Lepine got through many more verses than you’ve done.” And I understand.

The Necessity of Being “in Christ”

But you know that Paul actually doesn’t use “Christian” at all in his writings. He refers to the believer as being “in Christ.” Classically, perhaps, 2 Corinthians 5: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new [have] come.”[14]

So this is the real question, isn’t it? I guess I’m going to refer to Scottish ministers this afternoon, ’cause I have another one for you. And this was a friend of mine; he’s now gone to heaven. At his wife’s funeral, he told the story of how he met her. He met her walking out of a tennis court. And he was attracted to this girl, and as they walked—it was a Christian conference or something—as they walked away, he said to her, “And are you a believer?” And she said, “Oh, yes! I am in Christ since such and such a day.” “I am in Christ.” And he said to himself, “I have never heard anybody answer in that way. This is a special girl.” And he said, “And so, her life was in Christ, lived for Christ, and now she is with Christ.” But the progression is foundational. That’s why Calvin said all that Christ has done for us in his atoning death on the cross is of no value to us so long as we remain outside of Christ.[15]

Now, you see, what Paul is doing here in this great theological treatise is urging upon us as his readers the necessity of not simply giving an assent to the identity, or even the historicity, or even the efficacy of who Christ is and what he’s done—not simply giving assent to it but committing to it, making it our own, receiving all that he has done.

And you may be here, and you’ve come with a friend, and you’re wondering what you’re getting yourself into. And even as you listen to me now, you’re having to process this. We all are. When Paul writes to the Ephesians and he begins with that great paean of praise of the amazing electing grace of God, he’s way up in the heights, and then you get to the thirteenth verse, and he says, “And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation.”[16] Are you in Christ? When were you included in Christ? Well, one answer to that is “before the foundation of the world.”[17] I understand that.

But becoming a Christian is a bit like getting married, you know. There’s not a lot of feeling attached to it—not the actual marriage, at least from my experience. There was a lot of feeling leading up to it, a lot of feeling after it, but the thing itself was downright scary. Because you have to stand up there, and they ask you questions. They don’t ask you, “How do you feel?” or “What have you been doing lately?” No, they’re all volitional questions: “Do you take this woman to be your wedded wife?” “I do!” (You said, “You might want to try that a little better, you know. She’s going to be with you forever.”) “I do.” Okay. “And do you receive this man?” “Yes, I do.” Okay.

You say, “Where are you getting that?” Well, imagine that it’s Christ and you standing at the front of the church, and God the Father is conducting the ceremony. And he says, “Son, do you take this sinner?”

And he says, “I do. I died for her.”

“And sinner, do you take this Savior?”

“I do.”

Now, this is what Paul is referring to here. I’m not concerned about a moment in time or being able to describe the details or whatever it might be. Don’t get paralyzed by that. Spurgeon said our inability to describe the exact experience of our physical birth does not call in question the reality of our existence.[18] Okay? So don’t go away and stress over that. But we recognize that if you say to somebody, “Are you married?” and they say, “I don’t know,” there’s something seriously up with the person, or the marriage, or everything.

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who like spiritual things.” No. “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are enthusiastic in going to church.” No. “There is therefore now no condemnation in those who got baptized.” No. Run through it any way you want. The only “no condemnation” now is “for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

Freedom and the Law

And what has he done? He has set us free. The law pronounces a curse upon us because we have broken the law. And the law then exercises a power over us to paralyze us and confront us all the time with that which would leave us in the dust. And in Jesus we have been set free. This is what he has done. The law of the Spirit has set you free. God, in Jesus, has accomplished what the law was absolutely unable to do.

The law—he’s written about this in the previous chapters—the law is holy, but it’s unable to make us holy.[19] The law is righteous, but it cannot justify the ungodly. And in this work, you will notice as you read the text that the Trinity is involved. The Father plans it, the Son procures it, and the Holy Spirit applies it. And he says this has been done by Jesus: “For 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 for sin, [and] he condemned sin in the flesh.”

In Jesus we have been set free. This is what he has done. The law of the Spirit has set you free.

Now, when the Bible uses “flesh” there (and the NIV, I remember, uses a different word; I think “flesh” is better), what it’s referring to is human nature—human nature as human nature, corrupted and directed and controlled by sin. Otherwise, you can’t make sense of verse 7. We might as well mention it now, in case we never get to it: “For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, … it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot. [For] those who are in the flesh cannot please God.”

That’s the answer, incidentally, to the question “Why is it that when people come out on the open sea with us and see the splendor of everything, and the magnificence of the storm, and the final calming of it, and the trees, and the mountains, and the geology, and everything else, they don’t just bow down and say, ‘Oh, what a mighty God we serve!’? Why don’t they? Because, after all, God’s nature has been revealed to us in this, and it is revealed to us in our conscience.”[20] The answer is: They can’t. Because those who are in the flesh cannot please God.

You see, this is why we need the gospel. Because if we could please God, there’s no need for a Savior—if all we have to do is just look around and say, “Well, that seems like a good idea to me!”

God has sent his Son, you will notice, “in the likeness of sinful flesh.” “In the likeness of sinful flesh.” God has sent his Son in a manner that brought him into the closest relationship to sinful humanity that it was possible for him to come without becoming sinful himself. He’s true human and yet sinless.

And why has he come? Well, Jesus has come into the world to deal with sin. To deal with sin. Someone was asking me not so long ago about Joel Osteen. They said, “Well, what do you think about him?” I said, “Well, he’s got one of the nicest smiles I ever saw on television. I mean, if I could learn to smile like him, I think I would be making progress.” I said, “But I’ve heard him often in a talk show say, ‘Well, I don’t like to talk about sin. I like to talk, and I’m going to be fine.’” (I got to get to my accent by saying “fine.”) “I’ll be fine, and I don’t like to talk about sin.” Well, okay. That’s fine. I hear that. But that’s a real problem, isn’t it? You know, because how do you have… I guess you wouldn’t want to talk about condemnation either, or judgment, or the fact that we can’t meet God on our own terms or in our own time.

No, Jesus came to deal with sin. Can you imagine the situation? I bet you have. So, Jesus is in a house, and he’s teaching—because, remember, he said that he came to teach, came to preach the gospel: “Repent!” “The kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe … the [good news].”[21] And he’s in a house, and he’s teaching. And a group of guys got one of their friends, whose legs didn’t work, took him on a bed, and brought him to the house—couldn’t get in the house, couldn’t get in through the vestibule, couldn’t do anything at all. If I’d been there, I would have said, “Well, let’s just go home. We’ll come back again another time.” But no, these fellows were creative. And so they said, “We’ll go through the roof.” And you remember this story. And they go through the roof, and they let the man down. What an interruption! Can you imagine if something happened here, and a guy landed here on a bed? I mean…

Do you remember Jesus’ opening line? He looked at the man, and what did he say? “Son, your sins are forgiven.”[22] What? Can you imagine if you had brought this guy all the way, and Jesus says, “Your sins are forgiven”? We’d have said, “No, we didn’t bring him here for sins. We brought him here for his legs. We didn’t come for an invisible forgiveness. We came for a physical healing. This is what the man really needs!”

Well, Jesus fixed his legs, but he dealt with what the man really needs. He needed a new heart. He needed a Savior. He needed changed. And the Pharisees were ticked: “Who can forgive sins but God alone?”[23] And he says to them, “Well, what do you think is easier, to say to him, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven,’ or, ‘Pick up your bed and go home’?”[24] From one perspective, it’s easier to say, “Your sins are forgiven,” because, after all, how would anybody know? How would you verify it? “Your sins are forgiven. Have a great day.” But if you’re going to say, “Pick up your bed and walk,” you’ve got a challenge right there.

And you remember what he said? “‘In order that you might know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins, I say to you: Pick up your bed and go home.’ And the man picked up his bed immediately and walked out.”[25]

Now, what was Jesus doing? He was putting his finger on not only that man’s, but he was putting his finger on every man and every woman’s greatest need: the need to be reconciled to God, the need to have their conscience cleansed, the need to be set free from the bondage to religious orthodoxy that has led them to redundancy, so that they might live in the blissful reality of the freedom that is theirs in the Lord Jesus. “The righteous requirement,” he says, “of the law” would then be fulfilled in those “who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit”—“the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us.”

People get this wrong all the time, don’t they? Because I hear them in local Bible studies. They say, “Oh, yeah, but we’re not under law. We’re under grace. The law is finished now. That was the Old Testament. We’re New Testament people.” Yeah, you’re Old Testament and New Testament people. We’re no longer under the law in the way that it brings a curse and pressure upon us, as if somehow or another we could climb up a ladder to acceptance with God. We’re no longer under that. But we are under the jurisdiction and direction of the law of God to live a holy life.

The Westminster Confession of Faith helps with it. It says this: “The Spirit of Christ subdu[es] and enabl[es] the will of man to do … freely, and cheerfully, [that] which the will of God, revealed in the law, require[s] to be done.”[26] “The Spirit of Christ subdu[es]…” The bad that I don’t want to do it is the Spirit of God that works to subdue. And then to do the good that I ought to do it then enables—not to do it reluctantly or grudgingly but freely and cheerfully.

And this, you see, is all part of the amazing package in Christ. If you need to think this through, then that’s good, and you must, and we must. The Ten Commandments were given to Israel after Israel was freed. They were freed, and then they were told how freedom was to be enjoyed. Redemption precedes the requirements. God delivers, and then he demands.

Walking by the Spirit

And the lives that bear evidence to this are there for us in the fourth verse: “Who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.” “I can tell by the way you walk.” That’s the song, isn’t it? “I can tell by the way you walk, you got soul, baby. You got soul.”[27] You can tell a lot about the way a person walks. They strut, or they’re stooped, or they’re cool, or whatever it is. You say, “Whoa! Look how they walk.” Well, he says there’s a Christian walk: “who walk not according to the flesh.”

You see, the contrast couldn’t actually be any clearer than the way in which it is put here: “For 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.” In Christ, we now live according to the Spirit. In redemption, not only have we been reconciled to God, but the Spirit of God has come to live within us—that we are a dwelling place of God by the Holy Spirit.[28]

And therefore, it is the renewing work of the Holy Spirit, the freeing work of the Holy Spirit, that enables us to do what God requires for us to do. The flesh—human nature—is hopeless, it’s hostile, and it’s helpless. It’s hopeless: men and women without God and without a hope in the world.[29] “Hostile.” “Hostile”! “The mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God.”

You know, I think I’ve told this story before, but I was playing golf in California, and there was guys on the golf course I didn’t know. And I got put together with a group, and some of the jokes would make a sailor blush. And after a long while of this going on, at a moment on a tee, one of the men said, “And so what do you do?”

And I said, “Oh, I’m a…” I was almost embarrassed to say it. I said, “I’m a pastor.”

There’s long silence. And then one of the guys broke the silence by saying, “So, how’s business for you?”

I said, “Oh,” I said, “it’s excellent. Excellent. There’s no shortage of sinners. No, no shortage of sinners.”

And we teed off and went down the fairway. And I was—I don’t want to say I was in the middle of the fairway. I probably was in the middle of the rough. But one of these little guys, the smallest of the group, the one who’d been telling most of the jokes, came up to me on his cart, and he said, “Hey!” He said, “I don’t like what you said back there.”

I said, “Sorry. What did I say?”

He said, “Well, you were calling me a sinner. You were calling me a sinner.”

I said, “Well, I wasn’t actually calling you a sinner.”

But he said, “Yeah, you were. Yeah, you were.” And he said, “You need to know: I am not a sinner!” That’s what he said: “I am not a sinner!” This was up in Thousand Oaks. “I’m not a sinner.”

I said, “Well, I am delighted to meet you. Because there’s only one other person that I ever heard of who made that claim.”

And he was so stupid, he said, “And who was that?”

I said, “Jesus of Nazareth.”

He goes, “Well, if you’re going to put it that way!” And then he went off on his cart.

But at the end of the round—because I didn’t want to make an enemy of the man—at the end of the round, as we got a chance to talk, I said, “Hey, listen: Do you want to know how I know so much about sinners?”

He said, “Yeah.”

I said, “Because I am a sinner.” I said, “I don’t have to look further than my shaving mirror in the opening part of the day to see a sinner.”

He said, “Well, I don’t understand.”

And then I told him: “Jesus came to save sinners.[30] And the only people he saves are actually sinners. It’s only bad people that go to heaven—bad people who are saved bad people.”

“Oh,” he said, “we’ll have to talk about that some more.”

I haven’t had the chance to talk to him anymore. I often wonder if, when he’s driving on the freeway in LA, if he ever heard this funny little Scottish voice.

Now, the flesh is there: “cannot.” The Spirit. The Spirit. We set our minds on the things of the Spirit. Our time, our talents, our treasures are now to be governed and directed by God’s Word. It is in the Spirit that hostility is replaced by harmony, that instead of death there is life and peace. I mean, even just to sing the two songs that we’ve already sung is to sing out, essentially, the whole thrust of what Paul is saying in these verses. We’re set free from the law of sin and death. We’re set free as a way of acceptance before God. But we’re obliged to keep it as the way of holiness in living for God. The contrast is there: two kinds of people, two differing mindsets, two resulting lifestyles, and two ultimate destinies.

What’s that song? “I’ve got my mind stayed on you.”[31] “I’ve got my mind stayed on you.” It’s a reminder to me, at least, that our minds do matter—that the things that we contemplate, the dreams we pursue, the hopes that we hold out for our children and for our grandchildren are either going to be framed in a way that is antithetical to all that God desires for us, or they’re going to be framed by that.

The contrast is there: two kinds of people, two differing mindsets, two resulting lifestyles, and two ultimate destinies.

Goldsworthy, an Australian theologian, helped me greatly along the journey of the last few years. And this quote I’ve had in my notes for a long time. This is what he says, and I’ll end with this:

Only the message that another true and obedient human being has come on our behalf, that he has lived for us the kind of life we should live but can’t, that he has paid fully the punishment we deserve for the life we do live but shouldn’t—only this message can give assurance that we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.[32]

Only this message: that the historical Jesus is the living Lord, that the Christ who died is the Christ who lives, that the Christ who intercedes is the Christ who will come, and he comes for those who are ready to meet him. And the privilege of a conference time like this in the company of one another is an opportunity to stir one another up in these things and perhaps just to be reminded of the simple but profound reality with which we begin: that “there is … no condemnation to them [that] are in Christ Jesus.” What will separate us from the love of God? Death won’t do it.[33] Why? Because it is an ontological impossibility to be separated from Christ now that we are placed in him.

But you say, “I don’t really feel this.” It’s okay. Fly the instruments. Apply your mind and let your heart catch up. Believe it. Lay hold of it. Take it to yourself. Look at yourself in the mirror and say, “What a wonder is this, that there is no condemnation to me in Christ Jesus, not because of anything I’m doing or have done but because of everything he has done!”

Lord, we do pray that the words of our mouths—the words of my mouth—the meditation of our hearts may be found acceptable in your sight. You are our strength and our Redeemer.[34] I pray that anything that is unhelpful or untrue might be banished from our recollection and all that is of yourself may find a resting place as we go through the balance of the day and into the balance of the week. Thank you for your Word. Thank you for your Son. And in Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

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[1] Thomas Jacomb, Sermons on the Eighth Chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, (Verses 1–4) (Edinburgh: James Nichol, 1868), 12.

[2] Augustine, Contra Faustum 17.3. Paraphrased.

[3] Isambard Wilkinson, “The Ecstasy of ‘Saint Rosalía’: Spain Goes Wild for Pop Sensation,” The Times (UK), November 11, 2025, https://www.thetimes.com/world/europe/article/rosalia-singer-album-lux-spain-bldf0fp7z.

[4] James S. Stewart, A Faith to Proclaim (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1953), 16

[5] Romans 1:22 (Phillips).

[6] See Romans 1:18; 2:1.

[7] See Romans 3:19.

[8] Romans 7:24 (ESV).

[9] Romans 7:19, 24 (paraphrased).

[10] Romans 8:1 (KJV).

[11] Charitie Lees Bancroft, “Before the Throne of God Above” (1863).

[12] Romans 5:1–2 (paraphrased).

[13] Augustus Montague Toplady, “A Debtor to Mercy Alone” (1771).

[14] 2 Corinthians 5:17 (NIV 1984).

[15] John Calvin, Institutes 3.1.1.

[16] Ephesians 1:13 (NIV 1984).

[17] Ephesians 1:4 (ESV).

[18] C. H. Spurgeon, “Life from the Dead,” Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit 38, no. 2,267, 362.

[19] See Romans 7:12.

[20] See Romans 1:19–20; 2:15.

[21] Mark 1:15 (ESV).

[22] Mark 2:5 (ESV). See also Matthew 9:2; Luke 5:20.

[23] Mark 2:7; Luke 5:21 (ESV).

[24] Matthew 9:5; Mark 2:9; Luke 5:23 (paraphrased).

[25] Matthew 9:6–7; Mark 2:10–12; Luke 5:24–25 (paraphrased).

[26] The Westminster Confession of Faith 19.7.

[27] Johnny Nash, “You Got Soul” (1968). Lyrics lightly altered.

[28] See Ephesians 2:22.

[29] See Ephesians 2:12.

[30] See 1 Timothy 1:15.

[31] Tye Tribbet, “Stayed on You” (2013).

[32] Graeme Goldsworthy, Preaching the Whole Bible as Christian Scripture: The Application of Biblical Theology to Expository Preaching (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 83–84.

[33] See Romans 8:35, 38.

[34] See Psalm 19:14.