The Normal Christian Life (16 page)

Little wonder that the woman desires to be freed from the first husband that she may marry that other Man! But her only hope of release is through the death of her first husband, and he holds on to life most tenaciously. Indeed, there is not the least prospect of his passing away. “Till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass away from the law, till all things be accomplished” (Matt. 5:18).

The Law is going to continue for all eternity. If the Law will never pass away, then how can I ever be united to Christ? How can I marry a second husband if my first husband resolutely refuses to die? There is one way out. If he will not die, I can die; and if I die the marriage relationship is dissolved. And that is exactly God’s way of deliverance from the Law.

The most important point to note in this section of Romans 7 is the transition from verse 3 to verse 4. Verses 1 to 3 show that the husband should die, but in verse 4 we see that in fact it is the woman who dies. The Law does not pass away, but I pass away, and by death I am freed from the Law. Let us realize clearly that the Law can never pass away. God’s right-eous demands remain forever, and if I live I must meet those demands; but if I die the Law has lost its claim upon me. It cannot follow me beyond the grave.

Thus, exactly the same principle operates in our deliverance from the Law as in our deliverance from sin. When I have died, my old master, Sin, still continues to live; but his power over his slave extends as far as the grave and no further. He could ask me to do a hundred and one things when I was alive, but when I am dead, he calls on me in vain. I am forever freed from his tyranny. So it is with regard to the Law. While the woman lives, she is bound to her husband; but with her death the marriage bond is dissolved, and she is “discharged from the law of her husband.” The Law may still make demands, but for me its power to enforce them is ended.

Now the vital question arises: How do I die? And the preciousness of our Lord’s work comes in just here: “Ye also were made dead to the law through the body of Christ” (Rom. 7:4). When Christ died, His body was broken; and since God placed me in Him (1 Cor. 1:30), I have been broken too. When He was crucified, I was crucified with Him. In the sight of God, His death included mine. On the hill of Calvary, it was forever done.

“Wherefore, my brethren, ye also were made dead to the law.” That woman’s husband may be very well and strong. But if she dies, he may make as many demands upon her as he likes; it will not affect her in the slightest. Death has released her from all his claims. The all-inclusive death of Jesus Christ has forever freed us from the Law.

But that is not all. Remember, our Lord did not remain in the grave. On the third day He rose again. And since we are still in Him, we too are risen. The body of the Lord Jesus speaks not only of His death, but of His resurrection; for His resurrection was a bodily resurrection. Thus, “through
the body of Christ,” we are not only “dead to the law,” but alive unto God.

God’s purpose in uniting us to Christ was not merely negative; it was gloriously positive: “that ye should be joined to another” (Rom. 7:4). Death has dissolved the old marriage relationship, so that the woman, driven to despair by the constant demands of her former husband, who never lifted a little finger to help her carry them out, is now set free to marry the other Man, who with every demand He makes becomes in her the power for its fulfillment.

And what is the issue of this new union? “That we might bring forth fruit unto God” (Rom. 7:4). By the body of Christ, that foolish, sinful woman has died. But being united to Him in death, she is united to Him also in resurrection; and in power of that resurrection, hers becomes a fruitful life. The life of the risen Lord within her empowers her for all the claims God’s holiness makes upon her. The Law of God is not annulled; it is perfectly fulfilled, for the risen Lord Jesus now lives out His life in her, and His life is always well-pleasing to the Father.

What is the most obvious thing that happens when a woman marries? She changes her name. She no longer bears her own name, but that of her husband. And she shares not his name only, but his possessions also. Everything that belongs to him belongs now equally to her. All of a sudden she is amazingly enriched. And so it is when we are joined to Christ. All that is His becomes ours, and with His infinite resources at our disposal, we need never again fear that we shall be unable to meet all His demands.

Now that we have settled the doctrinal side of the question we must come down to practical issues, staying a little longer with the negative aspect and keeping the positive for our next chapter. What does it mean in everyday life to be delivered from the Law? At risk of a little overstatement, I reply: It means that from henceforth I am going to do nothing whatever for God; I am never again going to try to please Him. “What a doctrine!” you exclaim. “What awful heresy! You cannot possibly mean that!”

But remember, if I try to please God “in the flesh,” then immediately I place myself under the Law. I broke the Law; the Law pronounced the death sentence; the sentence was executed, and now by death I—the carnal “I” (Rom. 7:14)—have been set free from all its claims. There is still a Law of God, and now there is in fact a “new commandment” that is infinitely more exacting than the old. But, praise God, its demands are being met, for it is Christ who now fulfills them; it is Christ who works in me what is well-pleasing to God. “I came . . . to fulfil [the law]” were His words (Matt. 5:17). Thus it is that Paul, from the ground of resurrection, can say, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to work, for his good pleasure” (Phil. 2:12–13).

It is God which worketh in you. Deliverance from law does not mean that we are free from doing the will of God. It certainly does not mean that we are going to be lawless. Very much the reverse! What it does mean, however, is that we are free from doing that will as of ourselves. Being fully persuaded that we cannot do it, we cease trying to please God from the ground of the old man. Having at last reached
the point of utter despair in ourselves so that we cease even to try, we put our trust in the Lord to manifest His resurrection life in us.

Let me illustrate by what I have seen in my own country. In China, most bearers can carry a load of salt weighing 120 kilos, a few even as much as 250 kilos. Now along comes a man who can carry only 120 kilos, and here is a load of 250 kilos. He knows perfectly well he cannot carry it, and if he is wise he will say, “I won’t touch it!” But the temptation to try is ingrained in human nature; so although he cannot possibly carry it, nevertheless he has a go. As a youngster I used to amuse myself watching ten or twenty of these fellows come along and try, though every one of them knew he could not possibly manage it. In the end he must give up and make way for the man who could.

The sooner we too give up trying, the better; if we monopolize the task, there is no room left for the Holy Spirit. But if we say, “I’ll not do it; I’ll trust Thee to do it for me,” then we shall find that a Power stronger than ourselves is carrying us through.

In 1923 I met a famous Canadian evangelist. I had said in an address something along the above lines, and as we walked back to his home afterward, he remarked: “The note of Romans 7 is seldom sounded nowadays; it is good to hear it again. The day I was delivered from the Law was a day of heaven on earth. After being a Christian for years, I was still trying my best to please God, but the more I tried the more I failed. I regarded God as the greatest Demander in the universe, but I found myself impotent to fulfill the least of His demands. Suddenly one day, as I read Romans 7, light dawned. I saw that I had not only been delivered from sin,
but from the Law as well. In my amazement I jumped up and said, ‘Lord, are you really making no demands on me? Then I need do nothing more for You!’”

God’s requirements have not altered, but we are not the ones to meet them. Praise God, He is the Lawgiver on the throne, and He is the Lawkeeper in my heart. He who gave the Law, Himself keeps it. He makes the demands, but He also meets them. My friend could well jump up and shout when he found he had nothing to do, and all who make a like discovery can do the same. As long as we are trying to do anything, He can do nothing. It is because of our trying that we fail, and fail, and fail. God wants to demonstrate to us that we can do nothing at all, and until that is fully recognized, our despair and disillusion will never cease.

A brother who was trying to struggle into victory remarked to me one day, “I do not know why I am so weak.” “The trouble with you,” I said, “is that you are weak enough not to do the will of God, but you are not weak enough to keep out of things altogether. You are still not weak enough. When you are reduced to utter weakness and are persuaded that you can do nothing whatever, then God will do everything.” We all need to come to the point where we say, “Lord, I am unable to do anything for Thee, but I trust Thee to do everything in me.”

I was once staying in a place in China with some twenty other brothers. There was inadequate provision for bathing in the home where we stayed, so we went for a daily plunge in the river. On one occasion a brother got a cramp in his leg, and I suddenly saw he was sinking fast. I motioned to another brother, who was an expert swimmer, to hasten to his rescue. But to my astonishment he made no move. Growing
desperate I cried out, “Don’t you see the man is drowning?” and the other brothers, about as agitated as I was, shouted vigorously too. But our good swimmer still did not move. Calm and collected, he remained just where he was, apparently postponing the unwelcome task. Meantime the voice of the poor drowning brother grew fainter and his efforts feebler. In my heart I said,
I hate that man! Think of his letting a brother drown before his very eyes and not going to the rescue!

But when the man was actually sinking, with a few swift strokes the swimmer was at his side, and both were soon safely ashore. Nevertheless, when I got an opportunity, I aired my views. “I have never seen any Christian who loved his life quite as much as you do,” I said. “Think of the distress you would have saved that brother if you had considered yourself a little less and him a little more.” But the swimmer, I soon discovered, knew his business better than I did.

“Had I gone earlier,” he said, “he would have clutched me so fast that both of us would have gone under. A drowning man cannot be saved until he is utterly exhausted and ceases to make the slightest effort to save himself.”

Do you see the point? When we give up the case, then God will take it up. He is waiting until we are at an end of our resources and can do nothing more for ourselves. God has condemned all that is of the old creation and consigned it to the cross. The flesh profiteth nothing! God has declared it to be fit only for death. If we truly believe that, then we shall confirm God’s verdict by abandoning all fleshly efforts to please Him. For our every attempt to do His will is a denial of His declaration in the cross that we are utterly powerless to do so. It is a misunderstanding on the one hand of God’s demands and on the other hand of the source of supply.

We see the Law, and we think that we must meet its claims. But we need to remember that, though the Law in itself is all right, it will be all wrong if it is applied to the wrong person. The “wretched man” of Romans 7 tried to meet the claims of God’s law himself, and that was the cause of his trouble. The repeated use of the little word “I” in this chapter gives the clue to the failure. “The good which I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I practice” (Rom. 7:19).

There was a fundamental misconception in this man’s mind. He thought God was asking him to keep the Law, so of course he was trying to do so, whereas God was requiring no such thing of him. What was the result? Far from doing what pleased God, he found himself doing what displeased Him. In his very efforts to do the will of God, he did exactly the opposite of what he knew to be His will.

Romans 6 deals with “the body of sin,” Romans 7 with “the body of this death” (6:6, 7:24). In chapter 6 the whole question before us is sin; in chapter 7 the whole question before us is death. What is the difference between the body of sin and the body of death? In regard to sin (that is, to whatever displeases God) I have a body of sin—a body, that is to say, which is actively engaged in sin. But in regard to the Law of God (that is, to that which expresses the will of God) I have a body of death. My activity in regard to sin makes my body a body of sin; my failure in regard to God’s will makes my body a body of death. In regard to all that is wicked, worldly and Satanic, I am, in my nature, wholly positive; but in regard to all that pertains to holiness and heaven and God, I am wholly negative.

Have you discovered the truth of that in your life? It is no good merely to discover it in Romans 6 and 7. Have you discovered that you carry the encumbrance of a lifeless body in regard to God’s will? You have no difficulty in speaking about worldly matters, but when you try to speak for the Lord, you are tongue-tied; when you try to pray, you feel sleepy; when you try to do something for the Lord, you feel unwell. You can do anything but that which relates to God’s will. There is something in this body that does not harmonize with the will of God.

What does death mean? We may illustrate from a well-known verse in the first letter to the Corinthians: “For this cause many among you are weak and sickly, and not a few sleep” (1 Cor. 11:30). Death is weakness produced to its extremity—weakness, sickness, death. Death means utter weakness; it means you are weak to such a point that you can become no weaker. That I have a body of death in relation to God’s will means that I am so weak when it comes to serving God, so utterly weak, that I am reduced to a point of dire helplessness. “O wretched man that I am!” cried Paul, “who shall deliver me out of the body of this death?” And it is good when anyone cries out as he did.