Romans 7:15–17

In Romans 7 we meet a man with a renewed conscience. He recognises the claims of righteousness — or more correctly, holiness. He hates evil and desires good. But his utter powerlessness to do the good fills him with dismay and wretchedness. His is plainly the case of a soul born of God, for no unbeliever actually hates evil… Still, here the soul must learn that abhorring evil and loving good is not in itself the power for doing good.

Nor is it bowing to an unavoidable fact only, but the heart agreeing that what it bows to is good. Faced with the truth, the soul does not wish to weaken the spirituality of the law. It will not drag the law down to the level of what people are able, or unable, to do. The soul reaches this point through the deep and terrible process of learning itself. Then it makes no excuses. It says in secret, "I agree with the law, that it is good." God is justified as to His holy law, and "I" is silent. An immense gain, spiritually, is reached.

He discovered by experience the good and holy character of the law. It is good as verse 9 states; but he now has to say "I agree with the law, that it is good."

You will find in Romans 3 these three characters of unconverted man — none righteous, none who understands, none who seeks after God. Now in Romans 7 the man has become intelligent; he acknowledges that the law is good, and he submits to it (Rom. 7:12-16); his will is broken, for he takes pleasure in it (Rom. 7:22); but the third thing fails — he has no righteousness. The more he understands how spiritual the law is, and the more he wants to fulfil it, the more he sees that righteousness is not in him. He is a miserable man.

First of all, he has found a fleshly "I," sold under sin — captive to it like a slave. He did not approve what he did. He did what he hated instead of what he wanted. But if he would not do it, his will was agreeing with the law that it was good. And if his will agreed, then it was not really he who was doing it. He would not do it, and yet he did. It was sin dwelling in him. There is an "I" distinct from the sinful principle — an "I" that was not his flesh. So he could see the sinful working of the flesh as coming from sin that dwelt in him. It did not come from the "I," which he knew was his own inmost will.

First, the discovery that there are two natures in the believer… two directly opposite energies come to light, one against the other. That is a relief, but not yet full clearance. Second, the conviction that "nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh." This conviction goes far beyond admitting and confessing particular sins. Third, that I have no strength: I find no ability to carry out what is good. So the distressed one looks outward for a deliverer, since he knows there is no good and no strength within.

The second half of the chapter gives us the experience of a man who wants to fulfil the righteousness of the law. He wants to bring forth fruit to God while standing under the law. God has awakened him, and the new life is at work in him. He understands how spiritual the law is, and what it requires. He wants to keep it, and his conscience cannot rest until he does. The new nature loves the righteousness of the law. But the flesh opposes it, and so the new nature does not fulfil it… in this passage there is no mention made either of Christ or of the Holy Spirit.

In that miserable experience, grace taught him how to tell himself apart from the sin that lived in him and that he now hated. This is a great step forward, and a relief to an honest soul. The next step was to tie himself to the new desires, and to seek deliverance through Christ Jesus, so that he might do what he now wanted, and not the sin he hated. He could then say, "It is no longer I … but sin." He does not say "Not I," as he does elsewhere. He says "No more I" or "No longer I," because before the change took place it was "I."

The moment I seriously set out to do what the law asks, I become aware of a force inside me working against me. It is too strong for me to fight. It wakes me up to the fact that "sin dwells in me." It is no accident and no habit. It is a principle I was born with. So I am forced to separate myself from myself.

Our wisdom is to fall into line with God's thoughts and to treat it as He does. Begin by recognizing that you are now identified with the new nature and entitled to disown the old. "It is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me." The new nature is your true self, not the old. It is like a grafted apple tree: as soon as the graft takes, the tree is the cultivated apple.

So sin is at least marked out as the terrible and powerful enemy of the soul. This is good, because it would be ruinous to fail to recognise an enemy, or to underrate his power. Once we see the true character of our souls' enemies, comparing it with our own weak forces may stagger us. But it would drive us to seek another refuge — in Him who alone is stronger than all enemies.

There he finds out that there is no good in him. Then he learns a second thing, one that people are often content with — but it is no deliverance. I hate it; well then, it is not I. The third thing is that the flesh is too strong for me. The will is there, but he does not find how to carry it out.

We can say when we sin, "It is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me." Even so, we cannot say that our doing evil does not matter. Nor can we escape the condemnation of the law, under which we feel ourselves to be. We cannot reach such unworthy conclusions as that God would condone our sins.

Sooner or later the believer discovers that sin still dwells in him, and that the old nature is as bad as ever, or worse. Then, instead of trying uselessly to make it better, he can take sides with God against it. He never treats it as anything but the deadliest enemy. He always distrusts it and never indulges it. He knows that God has completely condemned it at the cross, and so he condemns it completely too. He counts himself dead to it, but alive to God in Christ Jesus.