NOTES for Rom 6:1-14

We often compare our own baptism and conversion to God with the beginning of a new life. The apostle Paul tells us that in reality, by becoming Christ's, we first of all accept death, and it is precisely in death that we are united with Christ. He tells us that our consent to enter His grace is first of all our consent to share Christ's suffering in this world, to take upon ourselves at least the smallest part of His wounds. It is this likeness above all that Paul is speaking about.

For unless we bid farewell to sin, to that very “old self” within us, we will not be able to come alive with Christ for eternal life. The burial the apostle has in mind is first of all the death of our passions and our self-love: our desire to have our own way no matter what, our hatred or simply our indifference toward our neighbor. We must part with all of this in order to rise again, renewed by His grace and His forgiveness, so that it will no longer be our sin that lives in us, but Christ.

When we meet with Paul's words that we, as Christians, are dead to sin, various associations appear, and the closest is often connected to a certain particularly rigorous asceticism, with a merciless fight, with a readiness to resist one’s own fallen humanity, at least to death. Perhaps such is the case in the fallen world, especially that the apostle himself in some of his messages says that we can remain faithful to the Torah, observe it till the end only at the cost of our own life: because as long as the sinful man lives, he continues to sin, such is the property of his fallen human nature.

And if Christianity was another new religion, probably, it could then be limited to this: because the fallen man is really not in the state to do more. But Christianity is not a new religion, but a new life, a life in this Kingdom, which the Savior brought on earth, saying that it is "closed". And this life is completely incompatible with sin. If only we want to live the life of the Kingdom, sin has to disappear from our life. But indeed, for that, it is necessary a complete transformation of the human nature, otherwise we shall not know how to speak about the deliverance from sin! On one hand, it is exactly so.

But, on the other hand, the transformation process of the individual in the Kingdom is inseparable from the history of the Kingdom in our world being transformed, but not yet transformed till the end. It is in a sense, two sides of the same process: as long as the Kingdom will not reveal itself in all its entirety, none of us, looking for the Kingdom or living in it, will gain all the fullness of his life, and thus, our own spiritual biography is closely linked to the history of the Kingdom in our world and is defined by this one. However, as long as our human nature will not totally be transformed, we shall not get rid of sin! Then what: the perspective of a sinless life is postponed until the day of the return of Christ and of the definitive triumph of the Kingdom?

And yes, and no. Yes because it is only then that we are definitively going to get rid of sin. No, because we can get rid of the power of sin right before, than we get rid definitively and for ever of sin. Such an assertion can seem strange, if we do not consider the fact that the Kingdom "is close" already, it is here, and we can join its life already today. Of course, in our period of transition, the period of the Kingdom to come, we are most likely going to live simultaneously in two worlds: in the former not transformed world and in the Kingdom.

And in such position, only from our spiritual state depends which of both components of our, as the philosophers say, existence, will be decisive. Ideally, our lives must be exceptionally defined by that of its components, which belongs to the Kingdom. Well then we shall be death to sin: it will exist in our life, as something outside with regard to it, without defining its quality, perhaps only sometimes making attempts to invade where it will still have no path. Probably, it is the maximum of what we can achieve in our period of transition, in the period, when the Kingdom is already here, but not yet revealed till the end.

The most terrible and empty day is Holy Saturday, when the Savior of the world rests in the tomb and our house is left to us empty. But here is what our worship says on this day: "Moses the great mystically prefigured this present day, saying, 'And God blessed the seventh day'; for this is the blessed Sabbath, this is the day of rest, when the Only-begotten Son of God rested from all His works, keeping Sabbath in the flesh through His own plan in death; and, returning again to being through the Resurrection, He granted us eternal life, the only Good One and Lover of mankind."

"Let all human flesh keep silence, and let it stand with fear and trembling, thinking of nothing earthly; for the King of kings and Lord of lords comes to be slain and to give Himself as food to the faithful. Before Him go the choirs of angels with all principalities and powers, the many-eyed cherubim and six-winged seraphim, covering their faces and singing the hymn: Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia."

Speaking about the spiritual life of Christians, Paul says: all of us who were washed, or "baptized," into Jesus Christ were washed in His death. What does he mean? If Christianity were simply a new religion, the apostle's words would not be hard to understand: in the history of many movements, including religious movements, it has happened that the death of a founder gave the movement for which he gave his life a powerful impulse, followed by explosive growth. But Christianity is not a new religion; it is a new life, life in the Kingdom that the Savior brought into the world. And when we enter the Church, we are washed not only with water, but also with the breath of that Kingdom, the breath of that love of God without which there can be no talk of any new life.

How, then, is the Savior's death on the cross connected with the washing that brings us into new life? The simplest answer is this: Jesus accepted death voluntarily so that the Kingdom might enter the world fully and to the end. Had He renounced His mission and not carried it through to the end, and this was possible in principle, because during His earthly ministry Jesus was just as free as any of us, and free to an infinitely greater degree, since sin has no power over Him, the Kingdom would not have existed in our world and would not have come near to us. His earthly path, walked by Him to the end, all the way to the cross, is the door that opens the Kingdom to us.

But there is something else as well: our own life in the Kingdom. It is the life that we, if we are truly Christians, share with Him and with His heavenly Father, who through Him is also our Father. And this life, just like the life of Christ Himself, must belong wholly to the Kingdom. Then we will inevitably have to become strangers to the forces of the evil in which, according to the word of the Gospel, the world lies. In the ultimate sense, the life of the Kingdom is the death of that evil in which the world lies. And for the world this means the death of the one who lives the life of the Kingdom. Death, because the world, lying in evil, follows the lead of the evil in which it lies. And it strives to kill, to destroy the bearers of the Kingdom, just as it strove to destroy the Messiah who brought the Kingdom into the world.

Paul tells us: the action of God's grace is especially noticeable against the background of human sin. So then, should one expose one's sinfulness in oneself as much as possible, let sin manifest itself in all fullness so that the action of grace may also increase? Of course not. The apostle understands perfectly that this is not the way. The Christian way is different, and it is connected with the dynamic of a person's spiritual life that arises when God's power and God's love meet human sin.

Sin and God's grace are incompatible. But until complete transformation, the complete qualitative change of human nature, they will inevitably coexist in one and the same person. Yet they cannot unite, just as they cannot coexist in one and the same spiritual space. Where the Kingdom is, where grace is, where God's power and God's love are, there is no place for sin; and where sin is, there is no place for God.

Even in pre-Christian times the path of righteousness was life in God's presence despite one's own sinfulness. But then God's presence had not yet been manifested to the world in such fullness, leaving no room for sin, as is proper to the Kingdom. Now the righteousness of the Kingdom and sin are altogether incompatible. Either one or the other. Jesus inevitably had to die because the world in its present state cannot contain the Kingdom He brought in all its fullness. And the existence of sin in the world became death for Him precisely because His life and sin are incompatible. But the same can be said of every Christian, if only he is truly a Christian, and therefore an inhabitant of the Kingdom. Everyone who receives baptism agrees to such a path and to such a life.

It is no accident that the apostle says that, having been baptized, the Christian in this world is united with Christ "in the likeness of death": for the life of the Kingdom, until the complete transformation of the world, will still remain alien to this world, and therefore the Christian can live in this world only by dying, dying to the world that lies in evil, renouncing its life more and more. And, correspondingly, sharing more and more in another life, the life of that Kingdom which the Savior brought into the world. The life of the Kingdom must drive out the life of the fallen world for the Christian. One must, in the process of his own existence, replace the other. For this world such replacement means death: the world ceases to see transformed people; they disappear from it and cease to exist for it. This is not surprising: for the fallen world, Christ too ceased to exist immediately after His death on the Cross. The fallen world does not believe in His resurrection; for it, the resurrection does not exist. Such too is the life of every Christian, disappearing more and more for this world and manifesting himself more fully and clearly in the Kingdom.

According to the apostle Paul, our union with Christ takes place not in life, but in death. Because what we call life, from God's point of view, is dying. And Christ, by His divine nature untouched by death, voluntarily enters our dying in order to meet us "on our territory."

This is a self-emptying of the Son of God completely unimaginable for us, "kenosis" in Greek, an enormous path traveled from God to us. But for a meeting to happen, our movement toward Him is also necessary. It happens when we take a very small step, agreeing that Christ did not simply die for no reason, but out of love for us and for our sake; that in our baptism we experience His death as a fact of our own personal biography, radically changing the direction of our movement, because dying ends there. Having met Christ in death in this way, we are not separated from Him in resurrection either.

The word "believe" is very precise here: this is not scientific knowledge, but trust in God, hope in the saving power of His love for us.

A dead person is one who does not respond when addressed. But every response of ours is an action backed by the human will. The apostle Paul relies on this idea when he offers us this way of living. "It is impossible that temptations should not come," the Lord once said. We live in conditions where sinful thoughts, temptations, and desires will inevitably touch our hearts. But it is possible not to answer them, as a dead person answers nothing.

At the same time, it is remarkably important not to forget the second half of the apostle's phrase: "consider yourselves... alive to God." For if, while not responding to sin, you are nevertheless open to communion with God, then sinful impulses will not break through to your consciousness, because you will have no time to think about them. In fact, all Christian ascetic practice, that is, the tactics and strategy of resisting sin, is built on this simple contrast.

Death is the one which does not react, when he is addressed. But each of our reactions is indeed an act, behind which stands a human will. Apostle Paul leans on this idea, proposing to us this means to live. The Lord once said: "It is impossible but that offences will come". We live in such conditions, that sinful thoughts, temptations, desires will aim necessarily our hearts. But it is possible not to answer to them, quite as a dead man can’t answer anything.

It is remarkably important to not forget the second half of the apostle’s sentence: "reckon yourselves to be... alive unto God". Since if we, not reacting to sin, shall nevertheless be opened for communication with God, then the sinful impulses will not rub on our consciousness, because we shall never have time to think of it. Properly speaking, it is exactly on this simple opposition that is built all the Christian asceticism, which is the tactic and strategy of sin resistance.