John Calvin Commentary Romans 8

There is then, and so on. After describing the struggle that the godly perpetually have with their own flesh, he returns to the consolation, which was very necessary for them and which he had previously mentioned. This consolation was that even though they were still beset by sin, they were nevertheless exempt from the power of death and from every curse, provided they did not live in the flesh but in the Spirit.

For he joins together these three things: the imperfection with which the faithful always struggle; the mercy of God in pardoning and forgiving it; and the regeneration of the Spirit. And indeed, this last point is included so that no one should flatter himself with a vain notion, as if he were freed from the curse, while in the meantime securely indulging his own flesh.

Therefore, just as the carnal person flatters himself in vain when he is in no way concerned about reforming his life and promises himself impunity under the pretense of having this grace, so the trembling consciences of the godly have an invincible fortress, for they know that while they abide in Christ, they are beyond every danger of condemnation.

We will now examine the words.

After the Spirit. Those who walk after the Spirit are not those who have completely cast off all the desires of the flesh, so that their whole life is fragrant with nothing but heavenly perfection. Rather, they are those who diligently strive to subdue and mortify the flesh, so that the love of true religion seems to reign in them. He declares that such people do not walk after the flesh, for wherever the genuine fear of God is strong, it deprives the flesh of its sovereignty, though it does not abolish all its corruptions.

For the law of the Spirit of life, etc. This is a confirmation of the previous sentence. So that it may be understood, the meaning of the words must be noted. Using language that is not strictly correct, by the law of the Spirit he designates the Spirit of God, who sprinkles our souls with the blood of Christ, not only to cleanse us from the stain of sin with respect to its guilt, but also to sanctify us so that we may be truly purified.

He adds that it is life-giving (for the genitive case, in the Hebrew manner, is to be taken as an adjective). Therefore, it follows that those who keep humanity in the letter of the law expose them to death.

On the other hand, he gives the name of the law of sin and death to the dominion of the flesh and to the tyranny of death which follows from that. The law of God is set, as it were, in the middle; it teaches righteousness but cannot confer it. On the contrary, it binds us with the strongest chains in bondage to sin and to death.

The meaning, then, is this: the law of God condemns people, and this happens because as long as they remain under the bond of the law, they are oppressed by the bondage of sin and are thus exposed to death. However, the Spirit of Christ, by abolishing the law of sin in us through destroying the prevailing desires of the flesh, at the same time delivers us from the peril of death.

If anyone objects and says that pardon, by which our transgressions are buried, then depends on regeneration, it can be easily answered that Paul does not assign the reason here. Instead, he only specifies the manner in which we are delivered from guilt. Paul denies that we obtain deliverance through the external teaching of the law. He intimates, rather, that when we are renewed by the Spirit of God, we are at the same time justified by a gratuitous pardon, so that the curse of sin may no longer remain on us.

The sentence, then, has the same meaning as if Paul had said that the grace of regeneration is never separated from the imputation of righteousness.

I do not dare, like some, to interpret the law of sin and death as the law of God, because it seems a harsh expression. For though by increasing sin it generates death, Paul previously and intentionally turned aside from this unwelcome language.

At the same time, I also do not agree with those who explain the law of sin as being the lust of the flesh, as if Paul had said that he had conquered it. It will soon become very evident, I think, that he is speaking of a gratuitous absolution, which brings us tranquil peace with God.

I prefer retaining the word law, rather than, with Erasmus, translating it as right or power, because Paul did not allude to the law of God without reason.

For what was impossible for the law, and so on. Now follows the refinement or embellishment of his proof that the Lord has by his gratuitous mercy justified us in Christ—the very thing that was impossible for the law to do. Since this is a very remarkable sentence, let us examine every part of it.

That he is discussing here free justification, or the pardon by which God reconciles us to himself, we may infer from the last clause, when he adds, who walk not according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit.

For if Paul intended to teach us that we are prepared by the Spirit of regeneration to overcome sin, why was this addition made? But it was very proper for him, after having promised gratuitous remission to the faithful, to confine this doctrine to those who join repentance to faith and do not turn the mercy of God to promote the licentiousness of the flesh. And then the state of the case must be noted, for the Apostle teaches us here how the grace of Christ absolves us from guilt.

Regarding the expression, τὸ ἀδύνατον (the impossibility of the law), it is undoubtedly to be understood as a defect or impotence. It is as if it had been said that God found a remedy by which that which was an impossibility for the law is removed.

Erasmus rendered the particle ἐν ᾧ as “ea parte qua — in that part in which.” However, because I think it is causal, I prefer rendering it “eo quod — because.” Although perhaps such a phrase does not occur among good authors in the Greek language, yet as the Apostles everywhere adopt Hebrew modes of expression, this interpretation should not be deemed improper. No doubt, intelligent readers will agree that the cause of defect is what is expressed here, as we shall shortly prove again.

Now, although Erasmus supplies the principal verb, the text seems to me to flow better without it. The conjunction καὶ (and) led Erasmus astray, causing him to insert the verb prœstitit (has performed). However, I think that it is used for emphasis; unless, perhaps, some will approve the conjecture of a Greek commentator, who connects the clause with the preceding words as follows: “God sent his own Son in the likeness of the flesh of sin and on account of sin,” and so on. I have, however, followed what I have thought to be the real meaning of Paul. I come now to the subject itself.

Paul clearly declares that our sins were expiated by the death of Christ because it was impossible for the law to confer righteousness upon us. It therefore follows that the law requires more than we can perform; for if we were capable of fulfilling the law, there would have been no need to seek a remedy elsewhere. It is therefore absurd to measure human strength by the precepts of the law, as though God, in requiring what is justly due, had regarded what and how much we are able to do.

Because it was weak, and so on. So that no one might think the law was irreverently charged with weakness, or confine this weakness to ceremonies, Paul has distinctly expressed that this defect was not owing to any fault in the law but to the corruption of our flesh. For it must be allowed that if anyone really satisfies the divine law, he will be deemed just before God. He does not, then, deny that the law is sufficient to justify us regarding doctrine, since it contains a perfect rule of righteousness. But as our flesh does not attain that righteousness, the whole power of the law fails and vanishes. Thus, the error, or rather the delusional idea, of those who imagine that the power of justifying is only taken away from ceremonies is condemned. For Paul, by laying the blame expressly on us, clearly shows that he found no fault with the doctrine of the law.

Furthermore, understand the weakness of the law according to the sense in which the Apostle usually takes the word ασθενεια (weakness)—not only as meaning a slight feebleness but impotence. For he means that the law has no power whatever to justify. You see then that we are wholly excluded from the righteousness of works and must therefore flee to Christ for righteousness, for in us there can be none. To know this is especially necessary, for we shall never be clothed with the righteousness of Christ unless we first know for certain that we have no righteousness of our own. The word flesh is still to be taken in the same sense, as meaning ourselves. The corruption of our nature, then, renders the law of God useless to us in this respect; for while it shows the way of life, it does not bring us back who are running headlong into death.

God having sent his own Son, and so on. He now points out the way in which our heavenly Father has restored righteousness to us by his Son: namely, by condemning sin in the very flesh of Christ.

Christ, by canceling the handwriting, as it were, abolished sin, which held us bound before God. For the condemnation of sin made us free and brought us righteousness, because with sin being blotted out, we are absolved, so that God counts us as just.

But he first declares that Christ was sent to remind us that righteousness by no means dwells in us (for it is to be sought from him), and that people in vain trust in their own merits, who do not become just except at the pleasure of another, or who borrow righteousness from that expiation which Christ accomplished in his own flesh. But he says that he came in the likeness of the flesh of sin. For though the flesh of Christ was polluted by no stains, yet it appeared to be sinful, since it sustained the punishment due to our sins. Undoubtedly, death exercised all its power over it as though it were subject to itself. And as it was necessary for our High Priest to learn by his own experience how to aid the weak, Christ underwent our infirmities so that he might be more inclined to sympathy; and in this respect also, there appeared some resemblance of a sinful nature.

Even for sin, and so on. I have already said that some explain this as the cause or the purpose for which God sent his own Son—that is, to give satisfaction for sin. Chrysostom and many after him understood it in a still harsher sense: namely, that sin was condemned for sin, because it assailed Christ unjustly and beyond what was right.

I indeed acknowledge that though he was just and innocent, he yet underwent punishment for sinners, and that the price of redemption was thus paid. However, I cannot be brought to think that the word sin is used here in any other sense than that of an expiatory sacrifice, which is called אשם (ashem) in Hebrew; similarly, the Greeks call a sacrifice to which a curse is attached κάθαρμα (catharma). The same thing is declared by Paul in 2 Corinthians 5:21, when he says that Christ, who knew no sin, was made sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in him.

But the preposition περὶ (peri) is to be taken here in a causative sense, as though he had said, “On account of that sacrifice, or through the burden of sin being laid on Christ, sin was cast down from its power, so that it no longer holds us subject to itself.” For, using a metaphor, he says that it was condemned (like those who fail in their cause), because God no longer deals with those as guilty who have obtained absolution through the sacrifice of Christ. If we say that the kingdom of sin, in which it held us, was demolished, the meaning would be the same. And thus, what was ours Christ took as his own, that he might transfer his own to us; for he took our curse and has freely granted us his blessing.

Paul adds here, In the flesh, and for this purpose: that by seeing sin conquered and abolished in our very nature, our confidence might be more certain. For it thus follows that our nature has really become a partaker of his victory; and this is what he declares shortly after.

That the justification of the law might be fulfilled, etc. Those who understand that the renewed, by the Spirit of Christ, fulfill the law introduce an interpretation completely foreign to Paul’s meaning; for the faithful, while they live in this world, never reach such a level of progress that the justification of the law becomes full or complete in them.

This, then, must be applied to forgiveness; for when the obedience of Christ is accepted for us, the law is satisfied, so that we are counted just. For the perfection that the law demands was exhibited in our flesh, and for this reason—that its rigor no longer has the power to condemn us.

But since Christ communicates his righteousness only to those whom he joins to himself by the bond of his Spirit, the work of renewal is again mentioned, so that Christ is not thought to be the minister of sin. For many are inclined to apply whatever is taught concerning the paternal kindness of God in such a way as to encourage the licentiousness of the flesh; and some malignantly slander this doctrine, as though it extinguished the desire to live uprightly.

For they who are after the flesh, etc. He introduces this difference between the flesh and the Spirit not only to confirm, by an argument derived from an opposing characteristic, what he has previously mentioned—that the grace of Christ belongs only to those who, having been regenerated by the Spirit, strive for purity—but also to relieve the faithful with timely consolation, lest, being conscious of many infirmities, they should despair.

For since he had exempted no one from the curse except those who lead a spiritual life, he might seem to cut off the hope of salvation from all mortals. For who in this world can be found adorned with such angelic purity as to be wholly freed from the flesh?

It was therefore necessary to define what it is to be in the flesh and to walk after the flesh. At first, indeed, Paul does not define the distinction very precisely; but we will see as we proceed that his object is to offer good hope to the faithful, even though they are bound to their flesh, provided they do not give free rein to its lusts but surrender themselves to be guided by the Holy Spirit.

By saying that carnal men care for, or set their minds on, the things of the flesh, he shows that he did not consider those carnal who aspire to heavenly righteousness, but rather those who wholly devote themselves to the world. I have translated φρονουσιν with a word of broader meaning, cogitant—think—so that readers may understand that only those are excluded from being the children of God who, being given over to the allurements of the flesh, apply their minds and efforts to depraved lusts.

Now, in the second clause, he encourages the faithful to maintain good hope, provided they find that they are lifted up by the Spirit to meditate on righteousness. For wherever the Spirit reigns, it is evidence of the saving grace of God, since the grace of God does not exist where the Spirit is extinguished and the reign of the flesh prevails.

But I will briefly repeat here what I have reminded you of previously—namely, that to be in the flesh, or after the flesh, is the same as being without the gift of regeneration. And such are all those who continue, as is commonly said, in their purely natural state (Puris naturalibus).