Romans 3:1-18 - Answering Objections - by Scott Sperling
A study written in the style of the eminent 17th century divine John King (c. 1559-1621), Bishop of London (1611-1621)
1 What advantage, then, is there in being a Jew, or what value is there in circumcision? 2 Much in every way! First of all, the Jews have been entrusted with the very words of God. 3 What if some were unfaithful? Will their unfaithfulness nullify God’s faithfulness? 4 Not at all! Let God be true, and every human being a liar. As it is written: “So that you may be proved right when you speak and prevail when you judge.”
5 But if our unrighteousness brings out God’s righteousness more clearly, what shall we say? That God is unjust in bringing his wrath on us? (I am using a human argument.) 6 Certainly not! If that were so, how could God judge the world? 7 Someone might argue, “If my falsehood enhances God’s truthfulness and so increases his glory, why am I still condemned as a sinner?” 8 Why not say—as some slanderously claim that we say—“Let us do evil that good may result”? Their condemnation is just!
9 What shall we conclude then? Do we have any advantage? Not at all! For we have already made the charge that Jews and Gentiles alike are all under the power of sin. 10 As it is written:
“There is no one righteous, not even one;
11 there is no one who understands;
there is no one who seeks God.
12 All have turned away,
they have together become worthless;
there is no one who does good, not even one.”
13 “Their throats are open graves;
their tongues practice deceit.”
“The poison of vipers is on their lips.”
14 “Their mouths are full of cursing and bitterness.”
15 “Their feet are swift to shed blood;
16 ruin and misery mark their ways,
17 and the way of peace they do not know.”
18 “There is no fear of God before their eyes.” — Romans 3:1-18
We have arrived, by the providence of God and the labor of our former studies, at the third chapter of this most noble and weighty Epistle. And before we enter into the particulars of our present text, it is appropriate and profitable that we should briefly call to mind the great argument which the Apostle has thus far prosecuted, that we may see how the thread of his discourse leads us, by a sure and necessary path, to the very threshold of the Gospel itself.
For the first three chapters of this Epistle are, in their design and architecture, as the deep foundations of a great cathedral; they are laid in darkness, that the spire may ascend into light. Paul lays foundation upon foundation—the sinfulness of the Gentile, the sinfulness of the Jew—that he might erect thereupon, at the close of this third chapter, the most glorious declaration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ that ever was committed to paper or to the memory of humanity: the doctrine of justification by grace, through faith, by the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. That is the Gospel in its sum and substance, and we shall, God willing, explore it with all due reverence in the studies that follow.
But Paul is too wise a builder to raise the roof before the walls are standing. Before he declares the remedy, he must establish the disease. Before he proclaims the salvation, he must demonstrate the need of it. And so, in the first chapter of Romans, the Apostle has shown with terrible plainness how the Gentiles—the nations that knew not God, except by the candle of natural revelation—have sinned grievously against that dim light, and stand in need of the salvation offered through Christ. And in the second chapter, he turned his pen upon the Jews themselves, and demonstrated that they, notwithstanding their circumcision, their ancestry, their possession of the Law, and their boast of being the chosen people of God, do likewise stand condemned before the bar of divine justice, and do likewise need the salvation that comes only through Christ.
Now, this was a bold assertion, and Paul knew full well that it would not pass unchallenged. For the Jew would say—and many did say—“Wait! I am circumcised! I am of the people of Israel! I am a descendant of Father Abraham! I have no need of this salvation of which you speak, for I already possess the favor of God by birthright and by covenant!” That was the wall of objection that the Apostle needed to break through, and he had broken it admirably at the close of chapter two, where he declared with apostolic authority: “Circumcision has value if you observe the law, but if you break the law, you have become as though you had not been circumcised” (Rom. 2:25). And again: “A person is not a Jew who is one only outwardly, nor is circumcision merely outward and physical. No, a person is a Jew who is one inwardly; and circumcision is circumcision of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the written code” (Rom. 2:28–29).
Here is the Apostle’s great point: the outward marks avail nothing if the inward reality be wanting. One’s ancestry profits nothing; one’s rituals profit nothing; one’s observance of the feasts profits nothing; one’s circumcision in the flesh profits nothing—unless one be circumcised of the heart, unless one be pure through and through, within and without. And by that standard, all fail; all stand in need of Christ—both Jew and Gentile, without exception.
Now, Paul was himself a Jew of the highest learning. Before his turning to Christ on the road to Damascus, he was on the swift course to a seat among the Sanhedrin, the ruling council of the Temple at Jerusalem. He knew, therefore, as intimately as any person alive, the mind of the Jews—their pride, their objections, and their reasoning—for they had once been his own. And so, what the Apostle does in this third chapter is a thing most fascinating and instructive: he imagines a disputation between himself and an objecting Jew. He raises the very questions that his readers would raise, and then answers them, one by one, with the authority of the Holy Spirit. The Apostle gives us three sets of objections for the imaginary disputant, and masterfully answers each of the three.
This was a method well known to the ancients, and practiced with great skill by the Greek philosopher Socrates, who would set two opposing minds in conversation, and through the questions asked and the answers given, would lead his readers into the truth. Paul employs the same device—and indeed, one might well imagine this as a conversation between Paul the Jew and Paul the Christian; between Paul before he met his Lord, and Paul after the scales fell from his eyes. The old man argues; the new man answers. The flesh objects; the Spirit repels. And in this manner, the Apostle educates all who have ears to hear.
First Objection: Should Not the Jews Be Advantaged? (vss. 1-2)
1 What advantage, then, is there in being a Jew, or what value is there in circumcision? 2 Much in every way! First of all, the Jews have been entrusted with the very words of God.
Here is the first stone that the disputant hurls at the Apostle’s argument. And it is a natural stone, hewn from the quarry of a lifetime’s teaching. For the Jews had been told, from their mothers’ breasts and throughout the whole course of their history, that they were the chosen people of the living God. Their fathers told them so; their rabbis told them so; the very Scriptures which they read in the synagogue told them so. And now comes Paul, and tells them that circumcision does not save them, that ancestry does not avail them, that possession of the Law does not deliver them—and so they cry out, in the anguish of a shattered confidence: “What advantage, then, is there in being a Jew?” (vs. 1). They cry out, in effect: “What was all this trouble for? Why did I submit to circumcision? Why have I endured the persecutions that I endure as a Jew? What is the point of it all?”
It is a question born of bewilderment and of wounded pride; but it is not, for all that, an unreasonable question. And Paul, being a man of both grace and wisdom, does not despise the objection, but answers it with one of the most beautiful and penetrating declarations in all of Holy Scripture.
Mark the force of this answer! The question was, “What advantage is there in being a Jew?” And the Apostle does not hesitate, nor equivocate, nor mince his words. “Much in every way!” (vs. 2), he declares. And then he gives the chief reason, the first reason, the reason that stands at the head of all others: “The Jews have been entrusted with the very words of God” (vs. 2)
Let us pause upon that phrase, and weigh it as gold is weighed in the balance, grain by grain. “The very words of God.” Not a rumour of God. Not a faint echo of His voice across the mountains. Not the dim and uncertain surmising of the philosopher, groping in the twilight of natural reason. No—“the very words of God”: His oracles, His counsels, His commandments, His promises, His prophecies—all set down in black upon white, delivered from the mouth of the Almighty Himself to the hand of His servants, and committed unto Israel as a sacred and inestimable trust.
Consider the scope of this entrustment! In these very words of God, they received the history of creation itself—how God made the heavens and the earth, and all that in them is. They received the history of the fall of our first parents, and thereby learned the dreadful consequence of disobedience. They received the account of the flood of Noah, whereby God judged a wicked world; and of the dispersion at Babel, whereby God confounded the pride of man. And from all these things, they could learn—as no other nation upon the earth could learn—the terrible and serious consequences of sin.
In this treasured Word they received also the history of the call of their father Abraham, and of the response of Abraham to that call; the history of Abraham’s descendants; the captivity of the children of Israel in Egypt; and the glorious exodus from that house of bondage. They received the history of how God, in His grace, freed them from captivity through the blood of the Passover lamb; and how He intervened on their behalf through the baptism of the Red Sea; and how He, by His Spirit, led them through the wilderness, with the cloud of glory by day and the pillar of fire by night.
And in this Word of God, they were given also the Law—the objective standard of how God would have us live. They were given the Proverbs of wisdom, that they might know not only how to live a just life, but also a wise one. They were given the Psalms of praise—over a hundred songs of worship—that they might know the proper manner in which to adore their God. They were given the writings of the Prophets, who spoke unto the people the very words which they themselves had received from the Holy Spirit—words of promise and of prophecy, words of warning and of encouragement, words of rebuke and of tender comfort; words proceeding directly from the mouth of the living God, through the vessels of His prophets.
And so, when they ask—“What advantage is there in being a Jew?”—we perceive that Paul’s answer discloses a vast and immeasurable advantage over all the other nations, and peoples, and cultures of the earth. For the Jews walked in the light, whereas all the rest of the world groped in darkness. The Gentiles had but the faint glimmering of natural revelation—a dim hint that there is a God, and the comparatively feeble whisper of the conscience to guide them in the discerning of right from wrong. But the Jews—the Jews had “the very words of God,” written down, explicitly stated, plain and certain.
And now, dear reader, if the advantage which the Jews possessed was great, then ours as Christians is greater still—immeasurably greater—for we possess the full revelation of God: the completed edition of His “very words.” We have received not only the Law and the Prophets, but the Gospel of Christ besides—part the first and part the second; the beginning, the middle, and the end. We are entrusted not only with the commandments of God, but with the glorious Gospel of His Son: a Gospel which declares to us how we may forever enter the goodness of God’s grace, the blessedness of God’s presence, and the grandness of God’s eternal glory. And with these words we have received also the Great Commission—the charge to spread these “very words of God” to every creature under heaven, that all the earth may dwell in the same light, and all the earth may have access to the same salvation, in which we, by the mercy of God, do abide forever.
The first objection is well answered: “What advantage, then, is there in being a Jew, or what value is there in circumcision? Much in every way! First of all, the Jews have been entrusted with the very words of God.”
Second Objection: Does Not Our Unfaithfulness Nullify God’s Faithfulness? (vss. 3-4)
3 What if some were unfaithful? Will their unfaithfulness nullify God’s faithfulness? 4 Not at all! Let God be true, and every human being a liar. As it is written: “So that you may be proved right when you speak and prevail when you judge.”
The disputant now turns the argument upon a different hinge. Paul writes in his voice: “What if some were unfaithful? Will their unfaithfulness nullify God’s faithfulness?” (vs. 3). In other words, if the Jews were entrusted with the very words of God—so the objection runs—and yet many, yea most, of them proved unfaithful to that trust; and if even now the greater part of the Jewish nation has rejected Jesus Christ as the Messiah—does not this “unfaithfulness” on the part of His people reflect poorly upon the faithfulness of God Himself? Does it not, in some manner, “nullify” the faithfulness of the Almighty? If God’s chosen people have failed, has not God’s choosing failed also?
Paul answers this with a force and directness that permits no debate: “Not at all! Let God be true, and every human being a liar” (vs. 4). The faithfulness of God has absolutely nothing to do with the unfaithfulness of His people. Let every mortal creature prove false; let every tongue that speaks be found a tongue of deceit; let every hand that swears an oath be found forsworn—yet God remains true. His truth stands upon its own eternal foundation, immovable as the throne of heaven, unshaken by the treacheries of men. No matter how unfaithful His people prove themselves to be, God is true to His word, and has always been true to His word, and shall be true to His word when the heavens themselves are rolled up like a scroll.
Nay, more than this: even when God’s people were unfaithful, God demonstrated His faithfulness to His word precisely in that He disciplined them—He judged them. For He had promised that if they broke the Law, they should be punished; and punish them He did. Was this not “faithfulness”? Was not the chastisement itself a keeping of His covenant? And so the Apostle adds, citing the Psalmist: “So that you may be proved right when you speak and prevail when you judge” (vs. 4, citing Psalm 51:4). God is always “proved right” when He speaks, and “prevails when He judges”—even when, reluctantly, He is compelled to judge His own beloved people.
And this truth, beloved reader, has lost none of its sharpness in our own day. For we have all heard the objection of the unbeliever, who, when some prominent man or woman of the faith stumbles into grievous sin, doth cry aloud: “See! Look how these Christians behave! That proves there is no truth to Christianity!” It is the same objection that Paul confronts here: “Will their unfaithfulness nullify God’s faithfulness?” And the answer is the same, and shall always be the same: “Let God be true, and every human being a liar.” The truth of the Christian religion cannot be and should not be judged by the behaviour of sinful people, whether they profess the name of Christ or not. The truth of our religion stands or falls upon the truth of its teachings—upon the Word of God itself, which endures forever.
Indeed, one might even venture to say that the sinful behaviour of professing Christians does, in a strange and humbling fashion, confirm the very doctrine which Christianity teaches: that we are all sinners, and that we all stand in need of the salvation available through Christ. God’s faithfulness cannot be weighed in the balance of our faithlessness, for they are of altogether different substances. And that is what the Apostle means when he declares: “Let God be true, and every human being a liar.”
Third Objection: Does Not the End Justify the Means? (vs. 5-8)
5 But if our unrighteousness brings out God’s righteousness more clearly, what shall we say? That God is unjust in bringing his wrath on us? (I am using a human argument.) 6 Certainly not! If that were so, how could God judge the world? 7 Someone might argue, “If my falsehood enhances God’s truthfulness and so increases his glory, why am I still condemned as a sinner?” 8 Why not say—as some slanderously claim that we say—“Let us do evil that good may result”? Their condemnation is just!
Here the disputant, not content with his former question, presses further still, and in pressing further, wanders—as the human intellect is wont to do when it ranges outside the bridle of godly wisdom—into the very territory of the absurd. He defiantly states: “But if our unrighteousness brings out God’s righteousness more clearly, what shall we say? That God is unjust in bringing his wrath on us?” (vs. 5). The argument runs like this: “Because I sin, God, by comparison, looks all the more righteous. Is not this, then, a good thing? Am I not doing God a favor by my sinning?”
It is an argument monstrous in its impudence, and absurd upon its very face. It is the argument of a person who, by the clever employment of words, would make black to be white, and white to be black, and would have two and two to equal five, or ten, or whatsoever number pleases him. It is, as Paul himself states with a kind of weary candour, “a human argument” (vs. 5)—an argument fashioned upon the anvil of flawed human reasoning, and not upon the rock of godly truth.
And here we must observe a peril that has beset the children of Adam in every generation: the peril of the human intellect abused. For God has given to us vast and noble reasoning capabilities; but those very capabilities, when divorced from the fear of God and the anchor of His Word, do become instruments of self-deception. Men twist words and concepts, taking them far from the plain and simple meaning of what is written in black and white upon the page, until the truth is mangled beyond recognition. Paul warned his son in the faith, Timothy, against precisely this danger: “Warn them before God against quarrelling about words; it is of no value, and only ruins those who listen” (2 Tim. 2:14). And again: “Don’t have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels” (2 Tim. 2:23). There are those—and there have always been those—who twist the true and plain meaning of Scripture into something it was never meant to say; who seize a verse here and a snippet there, and join them together into a doctrine that has no warrant in the text. Against such men, we must arm ourselves with a thorough and ever-growing knowledge of the Word of God, that we be not deceived. As Paul instructed Timothy, and as he instructs us: “Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth” (2 Tim. 2:15).
Paul does not waste much breath upon the absurdity before him. He dismisses it with magnificent brevity: “Certainly not! If that were so, how could God judge the world?” (vs. 6). God is defined, in large part, by His righteousness. His righteousness is a distinguishing characteristic of His very nature; it is inseparable from His being. God cannot and does not do anything that is inconsistent with His righteous character. And therefore, if any argument be raised which suggests that God somehow profit from our unrighteousness, that argument is overthrown by its own absurdity. Paul wastes not his own words in refutation; he simply appeals to the self-evident truth that God is a righteous and worthy Judge—and that is the end of the matter.
But the disputant will not be silenced. He continues in his absurdity: “If my falsehood enhances God’s truthfulness and so increases his glory, why am I still condemned as a sinner?” (vs. 7). Like a dog that returns to his vomit, he presses the same argument yet further, now to the monstrous conclusion that the sinner ought not even to be punished, since his very falsehood has, by some perverse alchemy, increased the glory of God. It is an old and weary argument: Does not the end justify the means.
Paul, perceiving the logical terminus of this wretched reasoning, reduces it to its plainest and most damnable form: “Why not say—as some slanderously claim that we say—‘Let us do evil that good may result’?” (vs. 8). And having stated it, he passes sentence upon it with the authority of an apostle: “Their condemnation is just!” (vs. 8).
Let no one harbor, even in the secret chambers of his heart, the notion that he may relish in his sin, or be proud of his sin, because it does, in some perverse fashion, enhance the glory of God. Paul rejects, out of hand, the bizarre conceit that it is acceptable to sin so long as the end result be somehow beneficial. For if, by the grace of God, some good comes from our evil actions, this does not justify those evil actions—it merely testifies that God is a God of grace, who, despite our wickedness, does sometimes work all things to the good.
The death of our Lord Jesus Christ is the perfect and most solemn illustration of this principle. The atoning death of Christ upon the cross has brought salvation to untold multitudes throughout the ages; and yet that blessed result does not excuse those who put Him to death. It was a terrible injustice to kill One who never sinned in the whole course of His earthly life. It was a terrible sin to murder the Messiah, who was sent to earth by God the Father for the salvation of the world. Pilate shall answer for it. The Sanhedrin shall answer for it. The people in the crowd who cried “Crucify him!” shall answer for it. No matter how much good has issued from that death, the deed itself was evil, and the perpetrators shall be judged for it on the last day.
Note also that the Apostle observes, in verse 8, that Christians had been slanderously accused of holding the very doctrine he here condemns: “... as some slanderously claim that we say—‘Let us do evil, that good may result’” (vs. 8). It was a criticism levelled by the Jews of that time, and it has been a criticism levelled against Christianity throughout the ages, that the Gospel of grace makes light of sin. For if the Christian Gospel declares that we may be forgiven of any sin we commit, does this not, in effect, give license to sin? And indeed, this is a real and present temptation that we as Christians do face. We know that if we stumble into sin, we may come before God through Christ and receive forgiveness; and therefore the temptation arises to do as we please, without regard for the Law of God.
How, then, shall we overcome this temptation—this great and subtle temptation to take advantage of the boundless grace of God? We need, I am persuaded, the full arsenal of spiritual resources which God has placed at our disposal. We need the diligent study of the Scriptures, that we may clearly know what is right and what is wrong. We need the example of Christ, set forth in the Gospels, as the pattern of our lives. We need prayer, to keep us from the enticement of sin. We need the fellowship and support of our brothers and sisters in Christ. We need the praise and worship of Almighty God, to fill our hearts with gratitude and to remind us of the goodness of Him whom we serve—and let that gratitude be a deterrent against the presumption of sin. We need, I say, the whole armor of God, if we would not make shipwreck of the grace so dearly purchased for us.
The Sum of the Argument: We All Need Christ (vs. 9-18)
9 What shall we conclude then? Do we have any advantage? Not at all! For we have already made the charge that Jews and Gentiles alike are all under the power of sin. 10 As it is written:
“There is no one righteous, not even one;
11 there is no one who understands;
there is no one who seeks God.
12 All have turned away,
they have together become worthless;
there is no one who does good, not even one.”
13 “Their throats are open graves;
their tongues practice deceit.”
“The poison of vipers is on their lips.”
14 “Their mouths are full of cursing and bitterness.”
15 “Their feet are swift to shed blood;
16 ruin and misery mark their ways,
17 and the way of peace they do not know.”
18 “There is no fear of God before their eyes.” (vss. 9-18)
The disputation is ended; the objections are answered; and now Paul turns from the role of disputant to the role of prosecutor, asking: “What shall we conclude then?” (vs. 9). He does here sum up the great argument he has been building since the first chapter of this Epistle, and delivers his verdict upon all mankind. The question is asked one final time—“Do we have any advantage?”—and the answer rings out like the tolling of a clanging, solemn bell: “Not at all!” For the charge has been laid, and the evidence has been presented, and the conclusion is inescapable: “Jews and Gentiles alike are all under the power of sin” (vs. 9). Let us say it again, lest we mishear: Jews and Gentiles alike, all, without exception, lie under the dread dominion of sin.
And to confirm this awful verdict, Paul does now summon as his witnesses the prophets and the psalmists of old, piling text upon text, citation upon citation, in a great and ominous chain of Scripture that leaves no room for objection. He begins with the words of the fourteenth Psalm:
“There is no one righteous, not even one;
there is no one who understands;
there is no one who seeks God.
All have turned away,
they have together become worthless;
there is no one who does good, not even one” (vss. 10-12)
Mark the terrible repetition—“no one… no one… no one… not even one.” It is the drumbeat of universal condemnation. There is no exception, no loophole, no hiding-place. Not the righteous Pharisee in his broad phylacteries; not the learned scribe with his scrolls of the Law; not the devout Gentile proselyte at the gate of the Temple—“not even one.” All have turned away; all have become worthless; none does good. The indictment is total, and it is devastating.
And now the Apostle, having pronounced the general verdict, does descend to the particulars, tracing the corruptions of sin through the very members of the human body, from the throat to the tongue, from the lips to the mouth, from the feet to the eyes, until the whole person stands exposed as a creature utterly infected with the contagion of iniquity:
“Their throats are open graves;
their tongues practice deceit.”
“The poison of vipers is on their lips.”
“Their mouths are full of cursing and bitterness.”
“Their feet are swift to shed blood;
ruin and misery mark their ways,
and the way of peace they do not know.”
“There is no fear of God before their eyes.” (vss. 13-18)
What a portrait of the unregenerate soul! “The throat”—an open grave, breathing forth the stench of corruption and death. “The tongue”—an instrument of deceit, speaking fair words while the heart devises wickedness. “The lips”—bearing the poison of vipers, so that even the speech becomes venomous and deadly. “The mouth”—full of cursing and bitterness, pouring forth the overflow of a heart that is at enmity with God. “The feet”—swift to shed blood, running eagerly toward violence, leaving behind a trail of ruin and misery wherever they go. And “the eyes”—without the fear of God before them; blind to His majesty, blind to His justice, blind to the coming judgment.
This is the condition of humanity apart from the grace of God. This is the diagnosis that Paul has laboured to establish through two and a half chapters of this Epistle. The conclusion is plain, and it is universal, and it permits no exception: We are all sinners. Jew and Gentile, learned and unlearned, circumcised and uncircumcised—all stand guilty before the bar of God’s righteous judgment. “There is no one righteous, not even one” (vs. 10).
And yet—and here is the great wonder of it—the Apostle has not led us through all this darkness merely to leave us there. Nay; the darkness is the prelude to the light. The diagnosis is the preparation for the cure. The sentence of condemnation is the necessary preamble to the proclamation of pardon. For Paul is leading us, step by step, toward a grand and glorious declaration of the Gospel—a declaration which stands among the most important words ever committed to writing by the hand of any human being.
That declaration is found in the verses that soon follow our present text—Romans 3:21–26—and it is to those verses that we shall turn, God willing, in our next study. The great scholar Grant Osbourne has called those verses “the core of any discussion of the doctrine of salvation.” The German theologian Hermann Olshausen named them “the citadel of the Christian faith.” Martin Luther himself declared that this passage is “the chief point, and the very central place of the Epistle, and of the whole Bible.” And the Australian New Testament scholar Leon Morris ventured further still, calling that passage “possibly the most important single paragraph ever written.”
Let us say that again: “The most important single paragraph ever written.” I would not dispute the claim. But judge for yourself, dear reader. Read the remainder of Romans chapter three—and read it again—and read it yet again—with special attention to verses 21 through 26. Meditate upon them daily, that their truth may sink deep into the soil of thy heart, and bring forth fruit in due season. For in those verses is contained the sum and substance of all that we, as Christians, believe—the unsearchable riches of the Gospel of Christ.
We shall, by the grace of God, dig into those verses in the next few studies. Until then, let us hold fast to the truth that Paul has here established: that we are all sinners, in desperate need of a Saviour—and that the Saviour has come, and His name is Jesus Christ, the Righteous One, in whom all the promises of God are “Yea and Amen,” world without end.
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