In the early 20th century, there was a Russian monk by the name of Gregori Rasputin. He became a friend of the imperial family and is said to have been a reason for the fall of the tsars and the start of the Russian Revolution. There were many rumors about his life and influence. It was said that he advocated that those who sinned the most, required the most forgiveness, and so would then enjoy more of God’s grace. Supposedly he taught to sin boldly and continually, and then God’s grace would abound. I wonder what St. Paul would have thought about him!
   
In early Christian times some people, most famously the Emperor Constantine, would wait to be baptized until they were on their death bed. They felt that would mean all their sins were forgiven; there would not be time to sin again. Of course there were problems with this, in case they waited too long, or were to die unexpectedly.
   
Saint Paul, and we today, believe that baptism marks the beginning of a lifelong spiritual transformation. Through baptism we are unified with Christ, and our life is changed.
   
We are continuing with our sermon series on the Letter of Paul to the Romans and today is my turn. I must tell you that this particular passage is not one I have ever preached about nor is it one I have even heard as the sermon topic. Consider yourselves lucky! Or perhaps today will be a lesson in patience for you; you be the judge! 

Today’s passage needs context to understand. It jumps in the middle of a bigger discussion Paul is making about the Gospel of the grace of God in Jesus Christ. In fact, one of the themes in this entire letter is to pose this question for us, “How do we live as believers in Christ?” “Are we God-centered, or are we self-centered?” 

Last week’s passage from Romans ended with these verses: “The death he died, he died to sin, once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. So, you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.” 

Father Zack in his sermon last week personalized this to say, “I have died to sin and am alive in Christ Jesus.” He asked you to write this on a slip of paper and leave it by your bedside to read each day. I won’t embarrass you by asking how many of you did that. However, this is the intro to today’s passage so if you forgot his suggestion, this would also apply this week. 

I have died to sin and am alive in Christ Jesus, Paul goes on to say, therefore, do not let sin have control of your bodies. Today is a continuation of Paul’s arguments regarding what comes after our belief in Jesus’ resurrection and our baptisms into the Christian life. He urges us to live lives worthy of the power of God’s gift to us, and to grow into the fruits of baptism. Paul advocates for our freedom from the power of sin as a part of this growth.

Paul, in my opinion, loves to use a plethora of words, and today’s passage is a fine example of this as he uses many pairs in this lesson. Righteousness and sanctification, law and grace, sin and slavery. 

He compares the law as an impossible goal to achieve and instead urges us to be grateful for God’s grace, God’s free gift of unconditional love. Through Jesus’ resurrection we have been saved. This is a God act, first, and ours is to respond to that gift we have received. Paul is not as concerned with perfection in this as he is to bring awareness of the once and for all act of justification done by God through Jesus Christ. 

Sanctification is the process by which we are transformed for holy living. Again, this is our response to what God has done. It is not an obligation to follow Jesus, rather it is a part of the gift of grace. In baptism we are united with Christ, and we move from the dominion of sin to the dominion of grace. In baptism we, or our agents, have chosen whom we will follow. If we were baptized as children, we formalize this choice as our own, at confirmation. Paul reminds us, we have chosen whom we will follow. 

There are six questions asked in the rite of baptism. Three concern turning away from evil and three ask us to turn towards the life of love, God offers in Jesus. This is more than an attitude change; it is a sign of the validity of the resurrection. We have been given eternal life through Christ’s resurrection. Paul urges us in this letter to realize the depth of that statement as well as the joy contained in it. God has done so much for us to live in joy and peace and hope.  

Why would we go back to a life of sin? Giving in to temptation and committing acts against God’s will for us can only lead to death, spiritual death, as Paul makes clear. 

Sin is often an individual act with consequences that can and do affect others around us. But there is also corporate sin, which is larger than our personal acts or moral failings. Sin is the broken state of the world. It is the reality that there are many things that distance humans from God and from one another. Sin is not only personal, but also corporate. In part this is why our worship includes a common confession and absolution of sin. In rite 2, we say collectively, “Most merciful God, we confess…”

I said that Paul loves to use words. For me, the words sometimes get in the way of understanding his meaning. That is particularly true of his use of the word slavery. In Paul’s time most, but not all, slaves chose to go into an arrangement to become indentured servants and the time of their obedience to a master would have an end date.

Personally, I have a negative, even visceral response to the word, slavery. This has nothing to do with Paul, but rather what slavery meant in this country’s history: the dehumanization of an entire race that has had long-lasting consequences. I could do an entire sermon on this, but I will not today because that is not what Paul meant by using this term. 

I think what Paul meant was to whom do we belong? Whom do we obey? To whom are we loyal; to whom have we given our ultimate allegiance?  Who controls our lives? Is it sin, Or is it to God who loves us?  What or who is at the center of yours and my lives? Paul sees only two answers to this question.  Sin or God. 

When we have chosen to align ourselves with God through our baptism, that choice must influence how we live. Paul will have more to say about this as this letter continues.

I have a quick personal story to share.

One thing that really upsets me is how other people drive. You know what I am talking about, the weaving in and out of traffic, the jumping ahead of others who have been waiting their turn and so on. I have been known to yell things out when I witness this behavior. Now, my windows are closed but still I make my comments aloud. “What are you thinking about? Slow down, I may yell or sometimes I will even quote my husband’s grandfather and say, “Go ahead, dummy, heck isn’t half full!” (of course, sometimes I even might say a stronger word than heck…)

However, I know that if I am wearing my collar, I am much more likely to give the offending driver grace. I remain calmer and even say a prayer that that person will have a better day. 

Why is that? Because that collar reminds me that all of us are children of God and how I treat others reflects not only on me but all Christians. 

Now, I know only two or three of us here today wear a collar. But we all have another sign to help us remember to whom we belong.

At each of our baptisms, the priest called us by name and made the sign of the cross on our forehead. The words said were, “You are marked as Christ’s own forever.” We are united with Christ in our baptism and that unseen cross reminds us of that. While not a collar we wear, it is a sign we belong to Christ and that our actions reflect on all Christians.

This week I am not going to give you a new verse to use. You can continue to say, “I have died to sin and am alive in Christ Jesus.” It’s another chance to recall what Jesus has done for you.

What I am giving to you is something to carry in your pocket to help remember to whom you belong. At each door of the nave there is a bowl of small shells. Please take one home and remember what hope and joy and love God has given you. Remember that you were baptized into his death and given the gift of eternal life. Remember that you have been marked as Christ’s own forever. Remember, God is the center of our lives. Then, we cannot help but share God’s grace with others.

Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?

St Paul’s Letter to the Romans moves like a symphony. Themes appear once, twice, again. Tension builds to dramatic peaks like this morning’s. Then, they fade away. The key changes, the tempo & time signature. It’s important to pay attention.

One of the constant themes from Chapter 1 through 7 of Paul’s letter is sin. The first few chapters are an indictment of humanity, describing sin’s universality and the nature of human hypocrisy. Not only do all people act wickedly, we also judge. 

We imagine we are the morally upright, and we accuse others of wrongdoing. We attempt to teach others; we don’t teach ourselves. 

Our second reading today continues strongly on the theme of sin, but Paul’s diagnosis shifts. He goes deeper. Rather than accusing humanity as a whole, his words become personal. “I,” he says. “I.” Paul invites us to imagine our moral struggle in these terms: 

I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.

This problem – the inability to do good – has appeared in philosophical and religious writings from antiquity to today.

The Greeks called it akrasia or asthēnia; the Latins incontinentia or infirmitas and many other words meaning weakness, powerlessness, a lack of self-control or self-mastery. Some of the Jewish rabbis spoke of “the good impulse” and “the evil impulse.” Paul imagines the human person caught between many powers, and here talks in terms of sin, sin that dwells in us, in our flesh, even as our minds delight in God’s law. 

It’s not that we are ignorant of the good. It’s not that we don’t want to do it. It’s that we can’t, at least sometimes. Our human nature, our mind and flesh, are not aligned. Desires make war against each other, and others powers act upon us.
   
Who here has not felt that kind of inner conflict? “I do not do the good that I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” 

We feel it every time we succumb to temptation, when we give way to anger, greed, or jealousy, when we condemn our neighbor or fail to do them good when it would be easy to do so, when we lie, when we cheat. 
How easy it is to sin, and how hard it can be to do what is right. Think of how we covet.

We desire what belongs to others. We want what we shouldn’t have. Paul points to this sin in particular in the verses preceding this reading, citing the 10th of the Ten Commandments. 

“You shall not covet.” We know coveting isn’t good, but it’s so easy to do and so easy to hide.

Covetousness can hide in plain sight. It is possible to want another’s home, to want another’s property, to want their life, to want their connections, their loved ones. You don’t have to reveal it openly. It’s not like lying or murder or open prejudice. Desire can sit secretly.

And how acceptable it has become to be covetous in America, to scroll through the television or on Facebook and Instagram and give way to desire (wanting our neighbor’s looks or skills or very being). Or, to pull up homes on Zillow and dream of rooms and gilded hallways better than our own. 

And let’s remember, there are places far darker than these on the Internet. It’s all one click away. The Internet is vast machinery of desire and the portal is right in our hands. To quote a great poet…well, to quote Olivia Rodrigo and her song jealousy / jealousy: “I kinda wanna throw my phone across the room….co-comparison is killing me slowly. … I see everyone getting all the things I want. I’m happy for them, but then again, I’m not….I can’t stand it. Oh God, I sound crazy.” 

Covetousness…desire can hide from others. But we can’t hide from it ourselves. We’re in the room with it, with that screen and that phone we want to destroy. We know the contradictions in our hearts. 

We know there is a part of us that truly desires the good. But still we don’t do it. We are caught up in a life we cannot handle. We despair. Rodrigo says, “I’m so sick of myself.” She might well have echoed Paul in saying, “Who will rescue me from this body of death?” 

Romans Chapter 7 stacks up the tension. Dissonance and discomfort build. We are meant to feel uncertain, disquieted, as hear Paul’s words -- until the resolution cuts through. 

Paul writes: “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord.” 
 
In the precise place of our weakness, at the moment we feel most helpless, trapped in “this body of death,” Paul takes us back to the salvation offered to us in Jesus. 

The burdens of this life are great. But give thanks for what Christ offers; and here his voice when he says to you:

Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

“Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound?” What a great question. Our sermon series on the Letter to the Romans continues today, and Chapter 6 opens with a bang. 

Confronted with the declaration of God’s love for us -- that he has forgiven our sins, and sent his Son to die for us -- perhaps some might conclude that sin is no longer a problem for the Christian. Indeed, why not bury ourselves in sins, if God’s grace is so present to forgive? Let grace increase. But, no, Paul says. This position misunderstands God and our salvation.

I’m going to leave it to next week’s preacher to talk more about sin. (Good luck, Deacon Chris.) I want to spend this week exploring why Paul thinks it is so wrongheaded for the Christian to keep on sinning. There are three words you could memorize: Union with Christ. 

You see, for St Paul, the Christian way of life is defined entirely by Jesus and particularly by his death and resurrection. Scholars have sometimes described this as Paul’s mystical understanding of Christ: that we are in him, and he is in us. It’s certainly a major theme within his writings. Christ is absolutely central. But this feature characterizes other parts of the New Testament as well. 

We might think of the simple statement in Matthew’s Gospel, which we read today: “the disciple is not above the teacher…it is enough to be like the teacher.” Or we might think of the call to take up the cross. The Christian cannot differ from Christ. We are to be in the world as he was in the world (1 John 4:17)

There are other, fuller statements of this principle. In John’s Gospel, chapter 15, Jesus says: “I am the vine, you are the branches. If you abide in me, you will bear much fruit…” A branch does not know a world outside the vine or outside the trunk and root. These things provide structure, life, vitality. So it is with Christ. 

Paul uses this botanical language too, though most translation obscure it. In our second lesson you heard this phrase: “if we have been united with him in a death like his.” That gets at the idea of union with Christ. But Paul’s Greek is more vivid: ei sýmphutoi yegónamen. “If we have been planted with him in the likeness of his death.” We are there in the earth, bound together, rooted and planted with Jesus: Crucified with him on the cross, buried with him in the tomb, raised on the third day in the garden of the new creation. Our death and life are bound to his: there is no separation. This is what union with Christ means. 

Paul describes how this union and mutual planting has come about through baptism. As the sacred waters cascaded over our heads, we were forever changed. Just to be clear: This is not a metaphor. 

It is easy to listen to this and think: well, this is a nice symbol. Or the reading has some good similes. Hear me well that’s not the way I’m trying to talk. I am saying: our union with Christ defines is our reality. 

This is what it means to confess our belief in “one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.” That baptism brings you into the sphere of Christ’s living and dying and rising again. 

It brings you into the kingdom he rules, into the world he defines; and it brings him so wholly into your life that you can never talk about yourself in the same way. For “we know our old self was crucified with him…” Everything in us that belonged to the old age of death, everything that belonged to the fallen world defined by Adam’s sin, everything that belonged to the limitations of ordinary mortal humanity, passed away in baptism. It was destroyed, that the life of Christ might remain.

I recognize how hard it is to live this truth! It is partly why Paul spends such time on it in this chapter. 

For we look at our lives and think: actually, there’s a lot here that seems to be defined by death. These bodies are aging and dying. There’s a lot here that seems to be defined by sin. We still find ourselves failing: foolishly, miserably, frustratingly. There’s a lot here that seems so limited and ordinary. Sometimes we feel we lack the capacity to lead our lives well in this world. How can we be united to Christ, the sinless, the immortal, the perfect Son of God? Surely, it must be a metaphor, for if it were true, we think, we would not be struggling! 

I think that’s lies at the root of some of our unbelief: our disappointment with ourselves, and our desire that God fulfill his promises now, fully,  once and in the way that we imagine and choose. We want glory and honor now, freedom now.

But God has chosen to redeem us in and through the sufferings of this age. In this, we follow the pattern of our savior. Jesus Christ did not come to his resurrection without walking in the way of the cross first, without facing great opposition from sinners, without enduring all the suffering involved in ordinary human life. He took on our limitations. And as the Letter to the Hebrews says, “Though he was a son, he learned obedience” (Heb. 5:8). And God made him perfect through sufferings. 

You, too, are being perfected: not apart from the struggles of humanity, not apart from the traumas of this world. Through what you suffer, and through your struggle with sin, God is conforming you to the image of Jesus, his Son.
There is a great work going on within you through your union with Christ. His character is being formed in you: like hot wax receiving the press of a seal, like molten silver entering a mold, like the branches of a grape vine that are stretched and pruned for fruitfulness. There is a great work in you.

Now, how shall live like this is true? 

Let me give you a simple task this week. Put a small slip of paper by your bedside, or a Post-It on your mirror or on your computer – somewhere you’ll look at it every day. And write down this truth: I am dead to sin, and alive to God in Christ Jesus.

And this week, when you face temptations or you reckon with your limited mortal body, say: I am dead to sin , and alive to God in Christ Jesus. Take this as your memory verse, a phrase to repeat in your prayers, and object of meditation.

Our struggle requires more than this, but not less. If we learn to see our lives as they truly are, we may live them as we should.