Wretched Man That I Am! Who Shall Deliver Me? (Romans 7:21–25)

Rom. 7:21. I find then a law, that evil is present with me, the one who wills to do good.

If we take “law” here to mean the written Law, then both the syntactical structure of the speech will prove awkward and the thought of the text unclear, so that understanding it would require adding and inserting whole sentences. Therefore, it is better to understand “law” as the law of life working in me, or the constant order of phenomena occurring within me, as the Russian translation does. So I find in myself such a law—such a law of phenomena occurring or happening within me—that when I will to do good, at the same time evil is before me or presented to me: παράκειται – it lies ready—evil. This points to nothing special, but to what everyone knows from experience.

Rom. 7:22. For I delight in the Law of God according to the inward man.

The inward man is the spirit, whose manifestations of life consist of the fear of God, the demand of conscience, and dissatisfaction with anything created. It is whole even in the fallen, and in the greatest of sinners it makes itself known—and always stands on the side of what pleases God, what is lawful and good, sympathizes with these, delights in them. And there is no one who has not experienced this. In the ordinary, peaceful state, man stands on this side—and reasons and feels rightly. Look at the one we speak of: he is now in a good spirit—altogether holy, but then where something will come from, and you would not recognize him.

Rom. 7:23. 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.

When I was first setting about good, evil was only offering itself; but when sympathy for good appeared in me and delight in it, my evil raised up a contrary-feeling against it and contrary-delight. The struggle grows. Evil resists in measure of the action of good, wars against the law of the mind. The mind here is the same as the inward man—the spirit. The aforementioned actions of the spirit the holy Antony the Great, Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian, Gregory of Nyssa and others call the mind. Saint Isaac the Syrian sometimes calls it mind, sometimes spirit. The law of the mind or spirit is constituted by the demands of the fear of God and conscience, which contains natural law and receives within itself the written Law. By the action of the fear of God, conscience receives under its guardianship every action recognized as lawful and stands up for it. The consequence of this is delight in the Law of God according to the inward man. But when this occurs, our evil rises up against this law of the mind and begins to war against it, stirring up contrary-feelings and contrary-delights. This, says the Apostle in the person of the fallen man, I see in myself: “I see another law in my members.” He does not see a law “of the members,” but a law “in the members”—as something alien. A natural, proper law of the members is not “another” from the law of the mind and does not war against it; the law “in the members” wars, appearing besides nature, alien. In the following words the Apostle called it the law of sin. This law has indeed penetrated nature and makes the “members” instruments for itself—and is therefore “another law in the members”—along with the laws “of the members.” One might rephrase this: I see sin acting in my members and warring against the law of the mind. Holy Chrysostom says: “By the law warring the Apostle again calls sin here not according to its proper nature, but according to the excessive servitude of those who obey it. As he calls mammon a master and the belly a god not according to their proper nature, but by reason of the great slavishness of those subject to it; so also here he called sin a law, because men serve it and fear to abandon it as much as those who have received the Law fear not to keep the Law.” Men themselves have made it a law for themselves.

What then is the consequence of this warring? Captivity to sin: “bringing me into captivity to the law of sin.” How the preponderance turns toward this side, the Apostle does not say, but only testifies that this is how it happens. But how does this happen? There is a law there, and here is a law—and there is a desire, and here is an offering, seemingly even less—and there is delight, and here is contrary-delight. All is equal. Why then is the preponderance toward this evil side and not toward the good? Above the Apostle mentioned that this happens because sin “deceives” (Rom. 7:11). How does it deceive? With the sweetness of sin. This sinful sweetness is implied here in the words “warring against the law of the mind.” For if this warring is aroused by delight in the Law, it could only appear as contrary-delight in lawlessness. But such a contrary-delight in lawlessness, as soon as it appears, immediately draws toward itself. In the very act of its appearance it blocks out the delight in the Law and occupies the heart in its place; the heart passes to its side. Sin bribes the will with sweetness, and it inclines toward it. It bribes because it first—in the Fall—succumbed to such a bribe. Sin uses this first error as a contract: it has become for it as if a right and for the fallen as a law. By the law of sin “which is in my members,” one may understand precisely this sweetness of sin, promising to feed our self-pleasing. Though this sweetness always proves illusory, disappearing immediately—in the very act of sin—yet every time it appears again it draws. In this lies captivity. The holy Apostle James attributes arising disagreements among men to “the pleasures which war in your members” (James 4:1). If they too come from pleasures, then how much more, according to this Apostle, is this same source of all other sins.

The question arises: is such a course of events in us stamped with inescapable necessity, so that as soon as sinful sweetness is aroused, sin necessarily follows? There is no such necessity; but it happens through our weakness and corruption. It has become a law, as Holy Chrysostom said, because we ourselves have made it a law for ourselves, or—better—every time we make it a law. One can forestall the sinful sweetness and not allow it to reach the heart, or in the heart to such a degree that it would drive out delight in the law of the mind. One can even after this sweetness has seized the heart drive it out again and restore delight in good, though this is quite difficult. But our misery is that we do not will to, because of the self-pleasing and pleasure-loving dominion in us, we do not will to struggle with ourselves and inflict pain on ourselves through refusal. Sin takes strength in us through this weakness of ours. Some will say: but how—the law of the mind is right there and recognized? Sin does not reject this law and does not demand its abolition; but draws to sin only this once. And the sinning man sins only this once, and then resolves always to act according to the Law. Now he excuses himself in that pleasure has overcome: what will you do? With these two moments—pleasure and the fact that the Law is not permanently rejected—sin always prevails and draws toward sinful deeds—always captivates.

Rom. 7:24. O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?

The condition of the fallen depicted by the Apostle awakens pity. Bitter is such a position: wretched me! But as with everyone, however much he suffers, the desire for well-being naturally rooted in us remains alive; so together with the feeling of wretchedness of the situation is born the desire for deliverance from it. But who will deliver? I have no strength myself: this is proven by the experiences of a whole life. Who then will deliver? This cry breathes hope of deliverance. If there were no such hope, it would not be to cry out for deliverance, looking for a deliverer, but to make peace with life: why live when things are so? A body of death is so named not only because it is mortal, but especially because together with mortality it has taken within itself a host of passions, as Holy Chrysostom said above—which, leading into sin, cause moral death (Rom. 7:11). The body is a body of death because it has become the seat of sin killing the soul. Oecumenius rephrases this complaint thus: “Who will deliver me from fleshly deeds that cause me soul-death? Or who will deliver me from captivity to the lusts dwelling in the body, which are death to me?”

If the Apostle conducted all the preceding discourse in the person of mankind, one may ask: did mankind feel the wretchedness of its position? Having felt it, did it cherish hope of deliverance? Allowing such hope of deliverance, did it seek it? And if it sought it, where and from whom? The answer is given by the expectation revealed before the coming of Christ the Saviour among the nations, whose proclaimers were the more attentive to themselves and more elevated wise men. They expressed sighs similar to the Apostle’s about the wretchedness of man’s moral condition and confessed that effective help of deliverance could come only from heaven—if God Himself would come and deliver.

What all awaited indefinitely was fulfilled definitively—and the Apostle on behalf of all offers thanksgiving to God, who has wrought deliverance already in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Rom. 7:25. 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.

There: Who will deliver me? And here: Thanks be to God! I have been delivered by the Lord Jesus Christ. How this deliverance acts is indicated in the 6th chapter and depicted in the 8th chapter. Here only the general situation is set forth to dispel the darkness of sorrow cast by the preceding discourse. – Holy Chrysostom depicts both of these—the lamentation: Who will deliver me? and the consolation through Christ the Lord—thus: “Do you see the torment of evil, how it overcomes the mind, even one finding pleasure in the Law? No one can say of himself, reasons the Apostle: sin makes me its captive because I hate the Law and turn from it. On the contrary, I find pleasure in it, I praise it, I resort to it; but it is not powerful enough to save even those resorting to it. But Christ saved those even fleeing from Him. Do you see how great is the superiority of grace? But the Apostle did not say this clearly, but only sighed and shed bitter tears, like a man deprived of help, and by the very desperation of his position proved the power of Christ and says: ‘O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?’ The Law proved powerless, conscience weak, though I praised good, not only praised it but even struggled with evil. For the Apostle, calling sin warring, gave to understand that he too armed himself against sin. – Then, from where shall we hope for salvation? ‘I thank God—through Jesus Christ our Lord.’ Do you see how the Apostle demonstrated the necessity of the appearance of grace (and its very appearance)? And not even speaking of salvation as such a work which, by what is proven above (in the first chapters of the Epistle), is recognized by all, he passes to the most important and proves that not only were we freed from former sins, but also in the future we became unserviceable to sin. But he said this (Rom. 8:1) not before reminding once more of the former state: ‘So then, with the mind I myself serve the Law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin.’”

“I myself”—the same I. He speaks again in the person of the fallen man, not from his own person—the Apostle, graced, and especially more so. In brief words he embraces all that has been said up to this point, as if to say: so remember, behold the condition in which the fallen man finds himself—with the mind he serves the Law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin. Having uttered thanksgiving to God who has arranged deliverance and about to set forth in detail how it acts in each person, he brings to mind in what state each by nature—being apart from grace—is found, so that by showing how deliverance is applied to this state, he might make clearer both the wisdom of the manner of deliverance and the fullness of grace revealed in it, and might make the gratitude expressed by it a common feeling and incline one to cherish so precious a deliverance. – Perhaps also not alien to the Apostle is such a thought in uttering these words: it is worth delivering, for God’s power is in captivity to sin—and it is possible to deliver, for not all is corrupted; the mind, or spirit, is whole.

“With the mind I myself serve the Law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin” – the same as above: I delight in the Law according to the inward man, but I am taken captive by the law of sin “which is in my members” and I sin. The mind, or spirit, is whole even in the fallen. It approves one thing—what pleases God, the holy and righteous—delights in it and desires it. In this is expressed its service of the Law of God, that is, by desires and strivings alone. For in deed it always turns out the opposite. The cause is that in action the law of sin prevails, “which is in my members” or in my flesh. I submit to it, I serve it, fulfilling its commands with the members of my body. But, having done this, I again pass to the side of the spirit and serve it the Law of God, though again by delight and desire alone. It is evident that human nature in such a condition is thirsting for deliverance and crying out for it; by this very position it expresses that it thirsts for it and cries for it. Will God’s grace leave its creation—His image—in such a condition?! And it did not.

The Apostle says: with mind—with spirit—I serve, and with flesh I also serve. One must note that man is: spirit – soul – body – and that too in their right and wrong states. Yet the person of man, conscious of himself and acting freely, is one and the same. When consciousness and freedom are on the side of the spirit, man is spiritual; when on the side of the soul, he is soulish; when on the side of the flesh, he is carnal. Sin has taken possession of the soul and body and all their powers, needs and functions, perverted them, so that when man is under sin, they act not according to nature. The spirit, however, remains uncorrupted by this defacement: it always speaks its truth. Conscience torments the sinner and wounds with the fear of God. The sinning man can stop up the ears of his attention and not listen to this voice; but it is always ready and does not remain idle. On this indestructibility of the spirit is founded the possibility of deliverance. Were it not for this, there would be nothing to lay hand to.

In saying “with the flesh the law of sin” – he does not remove the truth that together with the flesh the soul also serves the same law: for there are many passions that are properly of the soul. One might rephrase thus: with soul-and-body existence corrupted and damaged by sin, I serve the law of sin—that is, I sin and sin. Sin brings consciousness down into this realm of passionate soul-and-body existence, binds my freedom and forces me to sin. But the spirit is in me, and as soon as the fog of sin passes, it utters its voice. I pass to its side: for I cannot stand against the justice of its demands. I pass to it and delight in it and desire what it suggests. Let me again repeat the same, sink into passionate soul-and-body existence in sin; yet again I pass to the spirit and desire what is spiritual.

One must suppose that the Apostle depicts the fallen man in his better state, that is, when the spirit is heeded. For it happens that in some the spirit is completely suppressed—and nothing spiritual is visible in the man.