NOTES for Rom 7:15

Inner division is familiar to very many people. It would appear that Paul's experience in this respect is no different from that of many others. But is that so? What we usually call inner division most often turns out to be only an outward symptom of some hidden spiritual illness. Of course, compared with the outward manifestations of our "I," the division we sometimes experience can be considered something inward.

But its causes lie much deeper, and most often we do not notice them. Where, then, does this division come from? Most often it turns out to be merely one of the manifestations of fallen human nature. Our spiritual "I," what the biblical books usually call the "heart," is in its fallen state inwardly whole in very few people. Strictly speaking, in a fallen person it is never whole at the beginning; one must come to such wholeness by making deliberate efforts toward it.

This work of inwardly building oneself and gaining spiritual wholeness is, in fact, called asceticism. Only after traveling a certain spiritual path can one achieve such wholeness. But this is not yet the end of the path; it is only its first stage. At the first stage a person discovers his own inner world and the chaos that usually reigns there if no effort is made to change the situation.

Ascetic practice can set a limit to this chaos. But at the same time a person suddenly discovers that in his own nature, besides the chaos that hinders inner wholeness, there is another, more powerful force opposing him if he wishes to walk the way of righteousness and follow the Torah. The issue is that sinfulness which is characteristic of fallen humanity. Here we are no longer speaking of inner chaos, but of a powerful destructive force that resists the one who wants to follow the Torah by keeping the commandments given by God. And the apostle, as we can see, encountered precisely this force. He no longer has any inner conflict; he knows perfectly well what he wants.

But at the same time Paul realizes that in his own nature there is something that resists the decision he has made when he tries to carry it out. This something is what we usually call original sin. And Paul understands perfectly well that, unlike ordinary inner division, usually connected with spiritual slackness, original sin is insurmountable for a person. Here only the coming of the Messiah and the breath of the Kingdom He brought into the world can help.

Are you satisfied with your life? Are you satisfied with what is happening around you? And within you? Do you think everything is in order? Probably not everything. And thank God! In fact, it is very useful to ask ourselves such questions from time to time, so that we do not stand still. For if everything satisfies us, we will gradually cease striving for anything at all. Of course, we can settle for what we have—whether we regard that level as high or low—but what will that give us? Stability? Not at all. Quite the opposite. No, this is not what the Lord wants from us. Of course, He knows perfectly well what is happening in our souls; He sees the whole “dynamic.” But He always wants more for us and expects more from us. And if we find the situation Paul describes in the words, “I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate,” rather sad, for God it is the starting point for working with us. Yes, it is not good when convictions and faith accord poorly with behavior, but God is able to use this straw to pull us out of our “dividedness” and make us His true children—whole persons who believe in Him, love Him, and obey Him.

Who would not agree with these words of the apostle? It is rare to meet someone who acts for the sake of evil as such. Our actions are more readily described by the rule, “We meant well, but it turned out as it always does.” The universality of the law formulated by Paul offers no comfort; observing oneself, one risks falling into despair. And what does Paul do? He writes, “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Once again, the way out is given to us only through the perfect Man Jesus, in whom both mind and flesh serve God's law.

Besides everything this text tells us directly, after reading it we can no longer excuse our inaction or lack of faith by appealing to weakness and “Paul's law.” For the apostle Paul is like this too; here he is writing about himself personally. The man who became the apostle to the Gentiles, a teacher, a spiritual shepherd, and an example to follow is afflicted by the same infirmities as we are. Remembering this, we can accomplish a great deal even without becoming apostles to the Gentiles.

Continuing the conversation about life and death, about the Torah and righteousness, Paul turns attention to human choice, seeing in it the foundation of spiritual life. He speaks about the inner division that inevitably opens up in everyone who tries to walk the way of righteousness (vv. 15-20). Of course, such division cannot be considered normal; it is a consequence of the fall, a consequence of the fact that fallen humanity is seriously ill (more precisely, injured) from birth. And without a radical change in human nature, there can be no healing from the inherited trauma received at the fall. Yet a person still has a choice: after all, one can relate to one's own illness or injury in different ways, especially now that the One has come into the world who can offer medicine for a previously incurable disease. One can be freed from inner division by completely renouncing one's own life and beginning to live the life of Christ, where there is no place for any divisions (vv. 24-25).

But this deliverance does not mean that the inner struggle is over. It will end only when the "inner person" and the "members" (vv. 21-23) become one whole, when what the Torah calls for is fulfilled: to love God not only with all one's heart, but with all one's being and all one's strength. The heart's choice has been made (Paul prefers to speak of the "mind," but that does not change the essence of the matter); the apostle is ready to follow Christ along the way of righteousness. He thirsts for the Kingdom with his whole being; his soul strains to follow the Torah, but the body, stricken by sin, resists. There is only one way out: what resists must die. Sin and those who serve sin are ready to kill the righteous person for the mere desire to follow the Torah; it is the commandment that reveals the full power of sin, making it, in Paul's words, "sin beyond measure," sin in all its fullness (v. 13).

But such a death is of little use; it would be only the murder of a righteous person, for whom destruction would remain nothing but destruction. True liberation requires the help of the One who can give the Kingdom to everyone who seeks and trusts. But it will become possible only if consent to the operation that frees one from the "body of death" is given voluntarily. Here the choice made by the one who wants to walk the way of righteousness becomes fundamentally important, for the success of the operation depends on what exactly, on which part of one's being, the person being healed identifies as the self. A person is free, and God will not cut away what is absolutely valuable and important to that person. If the "body of death" turns out to be such an absolute value, there will be no operation: God will cancel it and refuse treatment until better times, which will come only when the one being healed voluntarily agrees to give up what must be cut away. But in that case the way into the Kingdom will also have to be postponed. At best, for a long time. At worst, forever.