Romans Chapter 7

Exposing the Weakness of the Law

A. Dead to the Law

1. (Romans 7:1-3) The law has authority only over the living.

“Or do you not know, brethren (for I speak to those who know the law), that the law has dominion over a man as long as he lives? For the woman who has a husband is bound by the law to her husband as long as he lives. But if the husband dies, she is released from the law of her husband. So then if, while her husband lives, she marries another man, she will be called an adulteress, but if her husband dies, she is free from that law, so that she is no adulteress, though she has married another man.”

Paul begins with an illustration rooted in the law of marriage, which his Jewish and Roman readers would have readily understood. The principle is simple: the law has dominion only while one is alive. Just as a wife is bound to her husband as long as he lives, yet released from that law at his death, so too death brings a complete termination of obligation. This shows that death is the decisive factor that ends the binding power of the law.

Paul had already declared in Romans 6:14, “For sin shall not have dominion over you, for you are not under law but under grace.” After explaining the practical implications of this truth in Romans 6:15-23, he now presses further, showing that the law itself no longer exercises dominion over the believer because of our death with Christ.

When Paul writes, “the law has dominion over a man as long as he lives,” he deliberately omits the definite article in Greek. He is not speaking merely of the Mosaic Law, but of the principle of law itself, whether revealed through Moses, written upon the conscience of Gentiles (Romans 2:14-15), or reflected in the natural order of God’s creation. All law holds man accountable until death intervenes. But once death occurs, obligations cease. Death cancels every contract, covenant, and demand. Thus, the believer who has died with Christ is no longer under the binding jurisdiction of the law.

2. (Romans 7:4) Our death with Jesus sets us free from the law.

“Therefore, my brethren, you also have become dead to the law through the body of Christ, that you may be married to another, to Him who was raised from the dead, that we should bear fruit to God.”

Paul applies the illustration directly: just as death severs the marriage bond, so the believer’s union with Christ in His death severs the binding power of the law. Through the body of Christ—meaning His death on the cross—we have died to the law’s jurisdiction. Just as Christ’s death fulfilled the law’s righteous demands and ended its claim upon Him, so His people, united to Him, have died with Him to that same law.

This is not to say that the law is evil, for Paul will later affirm that the law is holy, just, and good (Romans 7:12). But as a covenantal principle of righteousness, it no longer governs those who are in Christ. The law could expose sin but never empower obedience. It condemned but could not justify. For this reason, Paul warns against the error of thinking, “Yes, we are saved by grace, but we must now live under law to please God.” That is false teaching. The believer is dead to the law as a means of righteousness or sanctification.

Instead, the purpose of our freedom is positive: we are set free to be “married to another,” namely, to Christ who was raised from the dead. This union is not sterile but fruitful. Just as the marriage bond is designed to produce fruit in children, so the believer’s union with Christ is designed to bear spiritual fruit to God. This fruit includes holiness of life (Romans 6:22), the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23), and the fruit of good works (Colossians 1:10).

Paul is clear: deliverance from the law is not license to sin, but liberty to serve. We are not released from law to live unto ourselves, but so that we might live unto Christ. Freedom from law is not an end in itself but a means to union with Christ, leading to fruitfulness for God’s glory.

Exposing the Weakness of the Law

A. Dead to the Law (continued)

3. (Romans 7:5) The problem with the law.

“For when we were in the flesh, the sinful passions which were aroused by the law were at work in our members to bear fruit to death.”

Paul now explains the tragic reality of life under the law apart from Christ. To be “in the flesh” means to live under the dominion of sin, controlled by fallen human nature. In that state, the law does not produce holiness, but rather, it exposes sin and even stirs sinful desires. The commandments of God, though holy, meet with the rebelliousness of man’s fallen heart, and instead of restraining sin, the law provokes the flesh into further disobedience.

This is why Paul says that “the sinful passions which were aroused by the law were at work in our members to bear fruit to death.” The law, like a spotlight, reveals the corruption of the heart, but it has no power to change that heart. Instead, the sinful nature takes God’s holy standard and twists it into an occasion for rebellion. The result is not fruitfulness toward life but fruitfulness toward death. Just as a tree produces fruit according to its nature, the sinful flesh under the law produced the fruit of death—separation from God, corruption in life, and ultimately eternal judgment.

Paul will expand on this paradox later in Romans 7:7-14, showing how the law, though holy, actually reveals and intensifies sin in fallen man. Here, however, the emphasis is clear: only those who are free from the law through death with Christ can bear true fruit to God. Until that union with Christ, everything man produces apart from grace leads only to death.

4. (Romans 7:6) Delivered from the law.

“But now we have been delivered from the law, having died to what we were held by, so that we should serve in the newness of the Spirit and not in the oldness of the letter.”

The glorious contrast comes with the words, “But now.” A decisive change has taken place. Believers have been delivered from the law, meaning we have been set free from its condemning power and its inability to produce righteousness in us. The reason is simple: through union with Christ in His death, we also have died to the law. The law once held us in bondage, exposing sin and pronouncing judgment, but death with Christ ended that jurisdiction.

Paul reminds us that the law cannot justify us—it can never make us right with God. Nor can the law sanctify us—it cannot produce deeper holiness in our lives. The law’s function was to reveal sin and point us to Christ (Galatians 3:24), but it was never intended to be the source of life. Now, having been delivered from its dominion, we live under a new principle of grace.

Yet our freedom is not lawlessness. Paul insists that we were set free “so that we should serve in the newness of the Spirit and not in the oldness of the letter.” The believer has not been released from the law to live selfishly, but to serve God more effectively. The Spirit now indwells us, empowering us to live in ways the law could only demand but never enable. The “newness of the Spirit” speaks of a transformed life, animated by God’s power and motivated by love, rather than by fear or external compulsion.

It is tragic, Paul suggests, that many serve sin or legalism with greater zeal than some believers serve Christ in the Spirit. Some are motivated more by fear of man than by love for God. Yet the Spirit produces obedience that flows from a heart of gratitude and devotion, not from legalistic pressure. This is the kind of service that glorifies God and bears lasting fruit.

B. Our Problem with God’s Perfect Law

1. (Romans 7:7a) Paul asks: Is the law sin?

“What shall we say then? Is the law sin?”

Paul anticipates the natural objection that could arise from his teaching. If the law arouses sinful passions and produces fruit to death, then is the law itself sinful? Is it the enemy of righteousness? The way Paul frames the question shows how radical his teaching would have sounded, especially to Jewish believers who revered the Law of Moses as holy, righteous, and perfect. Since Paul had just argued that the believer must die to the law in order to live for God, one might wrongly conclude that there is something inherently wrong or sinful in the law. Paul raises the question directly so that it cannot be left to misunderstanding.

This is a common human problem: when something exposes our sin or makes us uncomfortable, we are quick to blame the instrument rather than ourselves. Just as Adam shifted blame to Eve and then to God (Genesis 3:12), so men are tempted to blame the law itself rather than acknowledging their own sinful nature. Paul will not allow this false conclusion, and he immediately responds with a strong denial.

2. (Romans 7:7b) No, the law is good because it reveals sin to us.

“Certainly not! On the contrary, I would not have known sin except through the law. For I would not have known covetousness unless the law had said, ‘You shall not covet.’”

Paul’s answer is emphatic: “Certainly not!” The law is not sin, nor is it evil in any way. On the contrary, the law serves a necessary and righteous purpose—it reveals sin for what it is. The law acts as a diagnostic tool, exposing the hidden corruption of the heart. It functions like an x-ray machine, which cannot cause the disease but makes visible what was already there. No one would blame an x-ray for detecting cancer; in the same way, we cannot blame the law for exposing our sin.

Paul chooses the commandment “You shall not covet” (Exodus 20:17; Deuteronomy 5:21) as an illustration. Covetousness is a sin of the heart, invisible to others, yet destructive to the soul. Without the law’s clear command, one might not recognize the seriousness of this inward desire. The law sets the boundary line, the “speed limit,” so to speak, so that sin can be clearly identified. Before the law speaks, we might excuse or ignore sinful desires, but once the law defines them, we see our guilt.

Notice that Paul does not use an outward sin like murder or theft as his example, but the inward sin of coveting. This demonstrates that the law reaches beyond outward conduct to the very motives of the heart. It reveals not only external actions but also internal desires, showing us that sin runs deeper than behavior—it is rooted in the nature of man. By doing this, the law strips away every illusion of self-righteousness and brings us face-to-face with our true condition before God.

Thus, the problem is not with the law but with us. The law is holy, just, and good. It is God’s perfect standard. But when that standard shines its light upon our hearts, it exposes the rebellion, selfishness, and corruption that dwell within. In this way, the law serves as a mirror that shows us our sin and points us to our desperate need for a Savior.

3. (Romans 7:8) Sin corrupts the commandment (law).

“But sin, taking opportunity by the commandment, produced in me all manner of evil desire. For apart from the law sin was dead.”

Paul now explains how sin interacts with the law. The law itself is holy, just, and good, but the corruption of the human heart twists the law into an instrument of temptation. He writes that sin, “taking opportunity by the commandment, produced in me all manner of evil desire.” The word translated “opportunity” is a military term meaning “base of operations.” In other words, sin uses the very commandment of God as a launching point for rebellion. What God intends for life and holiness, man’s sinful heart turns into a springboard for transgression.

This is the paradox of fallen man. When God says, “Do not covet” (Exodus 20:17), the flesh is stirred to covet all the more. When He says, “Do not eat of the tree” (Genesis 2:17), fallen man is suddenly drawn toward the forbidden fruit. The commandment is not to blame, but the perversity of sin within us takes what is good and uses it to awaken rebellion.

Augustine, in his Confessions, described this dynamic from his own life. As a youth he stole pears, not because he desired them, for he had better fruit at home, but simply to delight in what was forbidden. He wrote that his pleasure was not in the pears but in the act of transgression itself. This illustrates Paul’s point perfectly: sin delights in breaking God’s law, not because the law is evil, but because man’s heart is corrupt.

History offers similar illustrations. The Prohibition Act in America, designed to eliminate drunkenness, often had the opposite effect, making alcohol more enticing and leading to widespread rebellion. In the same way, when a waterfront hotel in Florida put up signs reading, “NO FISHING FROM THE BALCONY,” guests suddenly began fishing from their rooms, breaking windows below with their sinkers. When the hotel finally removed the signs, the problem disappeared. The sign itself did not cause the sin, but the sinful nature used the command as an opportunity to rebel.

Paul concludes, “For apart from the law sin was dead.” This does not mean sin did not exist before the law, for Romans 5:13 already declared that sin was in the world before the law was given. Rather, it means that sin was dormant, unprovoked, and less clearly revealed until the law exposed it. The law defined sin and, in doing so, awakened man’s rebellious desires. Sin is so deceitful and powerful that it can take something holy, like God’s commandment, and twist it into an instrument of temptation.

This demonstrates the true wickedness of sin. It is not merely disobedience but a deep corruption that warps everything it touches. It turns love into lust, provision into greed, and freedom into slavery. Most shockingly, it takes the law of God—which was given for life—and twists it into an occasion for death. The problem is not the law, but the indwelling sin nature that resides in fallen man.

4. (Romans 7:9) Paul’s state of innocence before he knew the law.

“I was alive once without the law, but when the commandment came, sin revived and I died.”

Paul reflects on his own experience to illustrate a universal truth about human nature. He says, “I was alive once without the law.” This refers to a period of life—particularly childhood—when one has not yet come to a conscious awareness of God’s commandments. In that state of ignorance, a person feels secure, uncondemned, and untroubled by the weight of guilt. Paul does not mean he possessed eternal life during that period, but rather that he was alive in the sense that he had not yet been slain by the conviction of God’s law.

As Leon Morris explains, Paul was “alive in the sense that he had never been put to death as a result of confrontation with the law.” In other words, sin was present in Paul, but dormant. R. C. H. Lenski expands on this by describing Paul as “quite secure amid all his sin and sinfulness,” living in false confidence “like a man living on a volcano and thinking all is well.” Such is the state of man before the commandment of God pierces the conscience.

But Paul continues, “When the commandment came, sin revived and I died.” Once God’s holy law was revealed, sin was stirred to life, and Paul became aware of his guilt before God. What seemed like life was exposed as death. The same law that was intended for life (Leviticus 18:5) instead became a vehicle for death, because the corruption of the human heart twisted the law into a means of rebellion. The commandment exposed Paul’s spiritual deadness, stripping away his false security.

5. (Romans 7:10-12) Sin corrupts the law and defeats its purpose of giving life.

“And the commandment, which was to bring life, I found to bring death. For sin, taking occasion by the commandment, deceived me, and by it killed me. Therefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy and just and good.”

Paul presses the paradox further. The law itself was designed by God to bring life. As the Lord said in Leviticus 18:5, “You shall therefore keep My statutes and My judgments, which if a man does, he shall live by them: I am the Lord.” The law promised life to those who would keep it perfectly. But because no one in fallen humanity could keep the law, the effect of the commandment became death. The problem was not with the law itself but with sin.

Paul explains, “For sin, taking occasion by the commandment, deceived me, and by it killed me.” Here we see sin’s deceptive power. Sin presents itself as something desirable, promising satisfaction, offering excuses, and claiming an escape from judgment. In reality, it deceives the sinner into thinking that rebellion will bring freedom, when in truth it brings slavery and death. Jesus Himself declared, “And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free” (John 8:32). Only the truth of Christ can break the power of sin’s deception.

Sin, not the law, is the deceiver. It uses the law’s holy standard as a weapon against the sinner, awakening rebellion and then condemning the sinner when he fails. As James wrote, “Then, when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, brings forth death” (James 1:15). Paul’s testimony matches this reality: sin, through the law, brought death rather than life.

Yet Paul is careful to guard against misunderstanding. He concludes, “Therefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy and just and good.” The law reflects the very character of God—holy in its origin, just in its requirements, and good in its purpose. The fact that sin twists and corrupts the law’s effect does not diminish the law’s perfection. Instead, it highlights the corruption of the human heart. The law is not the problem. Sin is.

This balance is critical. Paul has already told us that believers must die to sin (Romans 6:2) and die to the law (Romans 7:4). Yet this does not mean that the law is evil or that it belongs in the same category as sin. The law is holy, but it is powerless to change the sinner. Because sin uses the law to arouse rebellion and bring death, we must be delivered from both sin and law through our union with Christ. Only then can we walk in the newness of the Spirit.

C. The Purpose and Character of the Law

1. (Romans 7:13) The law exposes and magnifies sin.

“Has then what is good become death to me? Certainly not! But sin, that it might appear sin, was producing death in me through what is good, so that sin through the commandment might become exceedingly sinful.”

Paul asks another rhetorical question: “Has then what is good become death to me?” Since he has just explained how the law, intended for life, actually brought death, someone might accuse the law itself of being deadly. Paul responds with the strongest possible denial: “Certainly not!” The law is not the cause of death; sin is. What the law does is expose sin for what it truly is and magnify its ugliness.

Paul explains, “But sin, that it might appear sin, was producing death in me through what is good.” The law, which is holy and good, becomes an instrument that reveals the true power of sin. Sin uses the law to awaken rebellion, but in doing so, it exposes its own wickedness. If sin can take something as good as the law and twist it into an instrument for death, then sin must be far more corrupt than we usually imagine.

Charles Spurgeon described the problem vividly: “This is one of the most deplorable results of sin. It injures us most by taking from us the capacity to know how much we are injured. It undermines the man’s constitution, and yet leads him to boast of unfailing health; it beggars him, and tells him he is rich; it strips him, and makes him glory in his fancied robes.” Sin blinds its victims to its own destructive power. That is why Paul says that sin must “appear sin”—it must be unmasked for what it really is.

Paul concludes, “so that sin through the commandment might become exceedingly sinful.” In other words, the law does not make sin exist, but it makes sin visible and magnifies its horror. Sin becomes “exceedingly sinful” in two ways. First, it appears exceedingly sinful when contrasted against the goodness of God’s law. Second, it becomes exceedingly sinful because the law provokes its true nature. Sin thrives on boundaries, using the commandment as a challenge to rebel.

Warren Wiersbe captured this paradox well: “Instead of being a dynamo that gives us power to overcome, the Law is a magnet that draws out of us all kinds of sin and corruption.” Spurgeon also noted the deliberate choice of language here: “Why didn’t he say, ‘exceedingly black,’ or ‘exceedingly horrible,’ or ‘exceedingly deadly’? Why, because there is nothing in the world so bad as sin. When he wanted to use the very worst word he could find to call sin by, he called it by its own name, and reiterated it: ‘sin,’ ‘exceedingly sinful.’”

Thus, the law’s purpose is not to bring life but to reveal the true nature of sin. By showing how sin twists what is holy and good, the law magnifies our need for the grace of God in Christ Jesus.

2. (Romans 7:14) The spiritual law cannot restrain a carnal man.

“For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am carnal, sold under sin.”

Paul now contrasts the character of the law with the condition of man. He affirms, “the law is spiritual.” This means the law is holy in its origin and character, flowing from God Himself who is Spirit. It reveals God’s will, His holiness, and His moral order. There is nothing lacking in the law—it is spiritual, perfect, and divine.

Yet Paul admits, “but I am carnal, sold under sin.” The word “carnal” translates the Greek sarkikos, meaning “characterized by the flesh.” It does not mean that Paul is unregenerate or unsaved, but that he recognizes the continuing weakness of the flesh even in the believer. A spiritual law cannot transform a fleshly man, for the law can command but not empower. It is like a mirror that reveals dirt but cannot cleanse it. Paul’s acknowledgment is that the law is spiritual, but his flesh remains weak.

To be “sold under sin” is to be in bondage. Paul is not describing his justified standing before God in Christ but rather the experience of man when confronted with God’s law apart from the Spirit’s power. Just as a criminal cannot look to the law for rescue after he has been condemned, so Paul recognizes that the law offers him no relief from his guilt. The law only condemns, never delivers.

Yet his admission, “I am carnal,” is not evidence that Paul is lost, but that he is painfully aware of the continuing presence of sin within. Martin Luther wisely commented: “That is the proof of the spiritual and wise man. He knows that he is carnal, and he is displeased with himself; indeed, he hates himself and praises the Law of God, which he recognizes because he is spiritual. But the proof of a foolish, carnal man is this, that he regards himself as spiritual and is pleased with himself.” In other words, true spirituality is shown not by denying the weakness of the flesh, but by confessing it and clinging to God’s grace.

Thus, Paul holds two truths in tension: the law is spiritual, but man in his flesh is carnal. The law is holy, but man is enslaved. This tension prepares the way for Paul’s cry of deliverance later in the chapter: victory is not found in the law but in Jesus Christ our Lord.

D. The Struggle of Obedience in Our Own Strength

1. (Romans 7:15-19) Paul describes his sense of helplessness.

“For what I am doing, I do not understand. For what I will to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do. If, then, I do what I will not to do, I agree with the law that it is good. But now, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) nothing good dwells; for to will is present with me, but how to perform what is good I do not find. For the good that I will to do, I do not do; but the evil I will not to do, that I practice.”

Paul here lays bare the deep conflict within every believer who attempts to walk in righteousness apart from the enabling power of the Holy Spirit. His words reflect an experience of frustration and helplessness: “For what I am doing, I do not understand.” The problem is not desire—he truly wills to do what is right. The problem is not knowledge—he knows what the law requires. The problem is power—“how to perform what is good I do not find.”

This demonstrates the central weakness of the law: it can command but cannot empower. The law says, “Here are the rules, now keep them,” but it provides no ability to fulfill them. It points out the standard but offers no strength to reach it. Thus, Paul finds himself practicing the very things he hates and failing to carry out the good he desires.

When Paul says, “It is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me,” he is not denying personal responsibility. Rather, he is recognizing the distinction between his new identity in Christ and the lingering presence of indwelling sin. As a believer, his “real self”—the inward man—wants to obey God. Yet he acknowledges that sin still dwells in his flesh, waging war against that desire. Kenneth Wuest insightfully explains this paradox: “To be saved from sin, a man must at the same time own it and disown it; it is this practical paradox which is reflected in this verse. A true saint may say it in a moment of passion, but a sinner had better not make it a principle.”

Thus, Paul is not excusing sin but confessing that his flesh still resists the Spirit, and that left to himself, he is utterly powerless to overcome it.

2. (Romans 7:20-23) The battle between two selves.

“Now if I do what I will not to do, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. I find then a law, that evil is present with me, the one who wills to do good. For I delight in the law of God according to the inward man. But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members.”

Paul deepens the description of his inner struggle. He observes a spiritual law at work within himself: though he wills to do good, “evil is present with me.” This is a reality every believer knows firsthand. As C. S. Lewis noted, “No man knows how bad he is until he has tried to be good.” The effort to resist sin only reveals its entrenched power.

Yet Paul insists, “For I delight in the law of God according to the inward man.” This shows that his true, regenerate self longs for God’s holiness. The believer, by virtue of the new birth, genuinely delights in God’s law. But Paul also recognizes the presence of “another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind.” This law of sin is not external but internal, embedded within his flesh. It wages war against the renewed mind and often brings the believer into captivity, reminding him of his weakness apart from the Spirit’s power.

Paul makes a critical distinction: the old man, crucified with Christ (Romans 6:6), is not the true Paul. The flesh, still present, is not the real Paul either, for it will one day be redeemed and glorified. The new man, created in Christ Jesus, is the true Paul. His challenge, and ours, is to live consistently with that new identity.

This raises a debated question: was Paul describing his pre-conversion state or his Christian experience? Some argue that such a struggle must describe Paul before he was born again. Others believe it reflects the ongoing battle of a Christian who still lives in the flesh. In one sense, the debate misses the point. As Griffith Thomas observed, this describes any person—whether regenerate or unregenerate—who tries to live righteously in their own strength. The unregenerate man cannot succeed because he has no new nature, and the regenerate man cannot succeed if he relies on self-effort instead of the Spirit. In both cases, the result is frustration and defeat.

Paul sums it up: sin wins this war whenever he fights in his own strength. The law cannot rescue him, and his flesh cannot overcome sin. His description sets the stage for the desperate cry of deliverance that follows in Romans 7:24-25, where he looks outside of himself and finds victory only in Jesus Christ our Lord.

E. The Victory Found in Jesus Christ

1. (Romans 7:24) Paul’s desperation and perspective.

“O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?”

Paul reaches the climax of his lament over the futility of trying to obey God in his own strength. After describing his struggle and defeat in the previous verses, he bursts out with the cry: “O wretched man that I am!” The word “wretched” in Greek (talaipōros) literally means “exhausted through hard labor.” Paul’s choice of word conveys the sense of a man utterly worn out by the vain effort to conquer sin through the law. He is not merely frustrated, he is exhausted, broken, and desperate.

Throughout church history, the greatest saints have often been the most painfully aware of their sinfulness. As Leon Morris notes, “The great saints through the ages do not commonly say, ‘How good I am!’ Rather, they are apt to bewail their sinfulness.” This is because the closer one draws to God’s holiness, the more deeply one perceives the corruption that still clings to the flesh.

Paul’s cry is the inevitable outcome of legalism. Legalism confronts man with his inability to measure up, and it leads either to self-righteousness or despair. The self-righteous man denies his wretchedness and becomes a Pharisee, blinded to his need of grace. The despairing man acknowledges his wretchedness but gives up pursuing God, convinced there is no hope. Paul himself illustrates the third way: instead of denying or despairing, he admits his wretchedness honestly and cries out for deliverance.

The tone of his statement is one of desperation: “O wretched man that I am!” It is not the cry of one who hopes vaguely to improve, but the cry of a man who has reached the end of himself. To find victory, every believer must come to this point. As long as we think there is something in us capable of mastering sin, we will cling to self-effort. Only when we cry out as Paul does, confessing our utter inability, are we ready to look to Christ for deliverance.

Paul continues: “Who will deliver me from this body of death?” Notice carefully, he does not ask how he will deliver himself, but who will deliver him. After referring to himself some forty times in this section, he finally looks beyond himself for rescue. This shift from “I” to “Who” marks the turning point. Deliverance is not found in self, law, or personal strength, but in a Person—Jesus Christ the Lord. As Matthew Poole comments, “It is not the voice of one desponding or doubting, but of one breathing and panting after deliverance.”

When Paul speaks of “this body of death,” some commentators believe he is alluding to a gruesome practice of certain tyrants in the ancient world. Prisoners were sometimes punished by being chained to a corpse, forced to carry about the rotting body until it killed them with disease and decay. Charles Spurgeon vividly applied this image: “Now, this is just what the Christian has to do. He has within him the new life; he has a living and undying principle, which the Holy Spirit has put within him, but he feels that everyday he has to drag about with him this dead body, this body of death, a thing as loathsome, as hideous, as abominable to his new life, as a dead stinking carcass would be to a living man.”

Other interpreters understand “body of death” more broadly as a reference to the sinful nature itself. John Murray suggested that “body” here refers to the whole “mass” of sin, so that Paul’s cry is for deliverance from sin in all its forms and consequences. John Calvin similarly wrote, “By the body of death he means the whole mass of sin, or those ingredients of which the whole man is composed; except that in him there remained only relics, by the captive bonds of which he was held.”

In either interpretation, Paul’s meaning is clear: he longs to be set free from the corruption of sin that clings to him. His cry expresses both his desperation and his faith. For though he cannot deliver himself, he knows there is One who can, and in the next verse he will give thanks for that Deliverer—Jesus Christ.

2. (Romans 7:25) Paul finally looks outside of himself to Jesus.

“I thank God—through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, with the mind I myself serve the law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin.”

At last, Paul breaks through the despair of his struggle and looks beyond himself for deliverance. After confessing in verse 24 his helplessness under the “body of death,” his eyes turn to Christ, and his cry of desperation is replaced with a shout of thanksgiving: “I thank God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!” The sudden change of tone reveals the transforming power of Christ-centered faith. Where self-effort produces only exhaustion and despair, faith in Christ produces gratitude, relief, and hope.

The phrase “through Jesus Christ our Lord” is rich with meaning. The word through emphasizes that Jesus is the Mediator standing between God and man, bridging the gulf created by sin and fulfilling what the law could not (1 Timothy 2:5). Paul does not thank God in general, but specifically thanks Him through Christ, because all of God’s blessings—including deliverance from sin—come only in Him. Furthermore, Paul identifies Jesus as “our Lord.” Deliverance is not simply a matter of receiving Christ as Savior but of acknowledging Him as Lord and Master. True victory comes when Christ is enthroned in His rightful place in our lives.

Paul continues: “So then, with the mind I myself serve the law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin.” Here Paul acknowledges the ongoing reality of the struggle. Turning to Christ does not erase the conflict between the new nature and the flesh, but it changes the outcome. The believer now has the Spirit of God, who empowers obedience, even though the flesh still resists. Paul does not deny the struggle, but he rejoices in the victory that belongs to him in Christ.

This is a critical balance. Some believers mistakenly think that coming to Christ should remove all struggles with sin. Paul shows otherwise. The struggle continues, but the difference is that we now fight with divine power, not merely human resolve. Jesus works through us, not instead of us. As Paul later declares in Philippians 2:13, “For it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure.”

The glorious truth remains: there is victory in Jesus! He did not come to give us a new set of rules, but to give us new life. The law could diagnose sin but never cure it. Christ came not merely as a teacher, coach, or motivator, but as the Savior.

• If the problem were ignorance, we would need a teacher—but Christ came as Savior.

• If the problem were lack of motivation, we would need a coach—but Christ came as Savior.

• If the problem were poor self-awareness, we would need a doctor of the soul—but Christ came as Savior.

This distinction is crucial. Teachers, coaches, and doctors can point out the problem, but only a Savior can rescue us from death. Paul’s thanksgiving is not that he has discovered a new method but that he has a Redeemer. In Christ, sin, death, and the law are all defeated, and the believer can now live in the freedom of grace.