John Calvin Commentary Romans 8:3

"For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God, sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh:" — Romans 8:3 (ASV)

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.