Lost in Romans

Message for worship on the Fifth day of the Seventh Month, 2026 given by Elizabeth Terney.

Wrestling Angels - Melanie Weidner

Romans 7:12-25

I realized after delivering this prepared message that I didn't define what I meant by personal sin. For me, individual sin is any turning away from God. Since God is love and compassion, actions that harm ourselves or others are times when we turn away from God. In my personal theology, sin is not necessarily "punished" by God, for turning away from God is, in fact, its own consequence. Paul's definition of sin is very likely different from mine, and I haven't fully studied his viewpoint, so I can't give any clarification here.

This passage from Romans, especially the part beginning with “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” has a rather Dr. Seussian vibe to it. A confusing rhythm and convoluted syntax. I imagine that whenever you first heard this passage, you found it a bit confusing.

You’re not alone. It’s one of the most studied passages in Paul’s letters. Not only because it’s kind of confusing, but also because it lends itself to many interpretations.

One of those interpretations is rather compelling - - that we all, even Paul, feel lost sometimes. Most preaching guides lean toward this. The Revised Common Lectionary starts the passage much later than I did, with verse 15, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”

I think it’s compelling because it feels true sometimes. But, is it what Paul meant?

There are many interpretations of this passage, nearly all beginning from the decision of who is talking when Paul writes, “I”.

• It could be autobiographical and refer to Paul’s current Christian experience.

• It could be autobiographical and refer to Paul’s pre-Christian experience as he viewed it when writing this, or perhaps how he viewed it when he was pre-Christian.

• It could be about non-Christian Jews

• It could be how Christians view Jews

• It could be how Paul views any non-Christian, Jew or Gentile

• It could be the experience of Christians in general

• Or, it could be a person under conviction of sin and at the point of conversion becoming to a Christ follower

One clue is that in the rest of Paul’s letters, Paul rarely mentions his own feelings of guilt or regret. When he does, he talks about how he persecuted Christians before becoming one himself. He does not express any moral struggles he faced as a Christian. In his letters, you won't find any apologies from Paul when he describes himself as a Christian. He does not seem to believe that he is weighed down by sin or any sense of moral conflict. So what is happening?

When one takes a broader look at the writing style of Romans, a classicist realizes he’s making a rhetorical argument in the Greek pattern of oratory, specifically that used by Aristotle and others. Which makes sense, since he’s writing to people of Rome, who know these rhetorical styles, whom he has not known previously, but who are already Christian (whether Jew or Gentile).

Paul’s Letter to the Romans is more like an ambassadorial document than a letter-essay to friends or students. It’s not an introduction to Paul’s Christian viewpoints for it leaves out many of Paul’s most important ideas.

 Listening to Paul’s Letter to the Romans is, in part, like hearing a debate and, in part, like hearing exhortations. Both writing styles aim to change the audience's beliefs and behavior. The arguments in Romans 7 and 8 are part of a larger argument made over 15 chapters to the Roman Christians. One I will not cover today. However, I will provide some context through the chapters before and after.

In a rhetorical analysis of Romans Chapters 5-6, Paul teaches that all humans are affected by Adam's actions and have sinned like him. In chapter 7, verses 7-13, he talks about how human sin relates to the Law. Adam's story shows what happens when someone gives in to powerful temptation. Instead of protecting fallen people from sin, the Law leads them to sin. An example is having a mild tickling between my shoulder blades. My teacher warns me, “Don’t scratch!” The commandment does nothing to take away the itch, but actually makes it worse!

Adam and Eve may never have thought to eat the apple from the Tree of Knowledge had they not specifically been told not to. It allowed sin, the serpent, a way to tempt them.

For Paul, the law alone cannot make people righteous. Its job is to point out sin and make people feel guilty. Although the law itself is holy and good, it can also lead to death because it brings out guilt. This guilt can leave people spiritually dead, meaning they are separated from God.

So, that’s the basic argument at the beginning of chapter 7, the Law tempts us to sin. The prohibition to do something bends the fallen human toward sin, as it did Adam. But, the Law itself is still good. Paul asks, “Did what is good, then, bring death to me?” He answers no, it is sin that brings death (death being separation from God).

At the point of chapter 7 verse 15, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but the very thing I hate.” Paul used a figure of speech in the rhetorical style of impersonation. It has a Greek name, but I won’t butcher it.

Impersonation is a way to make a point more vivid in speech or writing. It means taking on a role and changing your tone or delivery to signal this shift. This change is often marked by different inflections, accents, or a phrase that shows you are speaking in a different voice. I’ve read the argument that Paul indeed does this, but I won’t repeat it here because I don’t know Greek well enough to make the argument convincingly. Suffice it to say, I was convinced enough to become interested in this interpretation.

According to the sources I reviewed, given this recognition of the Greek rhetorical form among contemporary scholars, it is common in New Testament circles to view the “I” of Romans 7 as not autobiographical. It’s also common that Luther’s argument that Paul was maligning the Jews is no longer accepted.

So what is it?

The early Fathers, those familiar with Greek rhetoric, believed Paul was adopting the persona of a non-Christian, not describing his own struggles as a Christian. As far as they were concerned, becoming a Christian would prevent a person from the kind of dilemma the apostle is outlining here.

I believe that it describes a conversion experience. Indeed, 7:14-25 and through chapter 8 is a narrative of a conversion and its spiritual and theological implications seen after the fact and from a Christian perspective. The person speaking in this section of Chapter 7 is led to the end of herself and to the point of conviction and conversion. Paul is vividly depicting the person outside Christ, coming to conviction about sin and about her incapacity to escape its clutches without outside help. Paul is narrating a crisis in the life of such a person not the person’s day-to-day experience. Then the outburst, “Thanks be to God in Jesus Christ” could be Paul’s interjected reply or response to the heartfelt cry of the lost person. This response prepares the listener for the following argument in Chapter 8 about life in Christ. We learn in chapter 8 that the Christian is in some ways like a pre-fallen Adam, not immune to sin and perhaps inclined to sin on various occasions, but it is not inevitable that she do so.

Paul is not talking about the Christian who tries hard but whose deeds do not match up with his intentions. The point here is not the falling short or imperfection of even Christian good deeds. The person who speaks is slave to sin or her passions.

But why, if we are converted to Christianity, do we sometimes feel this way anyhow? Why is the most preached version – that we all sometimes fall down, or that we are not recognizing the depths of our self-deception about sin, feel so resonant?

Have we not reached the pinnacle of conversion? Perhaps, perhaps not. Paul’s chapter 8, remember, doesn’t say that conversion to the new Adam makes us impervious to sin, just that it gives us more options not to sin.

The impersonation language reminds me of an addict – often she knows she should not take addictive substances or engage in addictive behaviors, but cannot, without assistance, stop herself.

Have you met someone fully sober through a 12-step program? Someone who has faithfully followed the steps and given their life and will over to God?

Marty Grundy, a Quaker historian and writer, compared the path to living in Christ, or the Kingdom of Heaven, to living the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. The starting point is admitting we are powerless and our lives are unmanageable. Often, we must be at our most helpless before we ask for help.

George Fox was despairing that all his hopes were gone when God spoke to him.

Next, AA says, “We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” While sanity may not be the state you’re looking for in your spiritual journey, it does well for this example.

Next comes the critical step – “We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood God.” The 12 Steps stress that we don’t need to call this Power “God”; we don’t need to name it at all, but turning our lives over is the important bit. If we say yes, then comes the ripping open that the early Friends talked about.

AA says, “We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.” This can be quite painful. The inner light will bring much out of the shadows.

Next, we admit to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. To lay bare our weaknesses is amazingly powerful. You realize you're not alone, and shame is released in the act of sharing.

Then, we reach the place where we are entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character, and then, in another step, go ahead and ask God to remove our shortcomings. We cannot do it alone. We need divine assistance. We also need community.

The next two steps are about making amends. To make “a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all” and make “direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure others.” These are, as I understand, the stopping point for many on the 12 Step journey. It’s one thing to admit your faults to one person (and that’s pretty hard), but admitting wrongs done to the people you’ve wronged? This requires a strong desire for healing to overcome fear and shame.

The last three steps are all about maintenance – continuing “to take personal inventory and admitting our wrongs,” seeking “through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, praying only for knowledge of God’s will for us and the power to carry that out.” And finally, having had a spiritual awakening, carrying the message and practicing these principles in all our affairs.

For those who complete the 12 steps honestly, it usually brings about this spiritual awakening. You don’t have to have an addiction or be a loved one of an addict to use this program. It’s a powerful guide to spiritual transformation.

The person who has given their life and will to God still struggles with human problems, of course, but they have a systematic way to deal with them.

The 12 Step success story is a true conversion experience. And yet, not all 12 Step success stories rely on God – sometimes it’s the higher power of their 12 Step community. 12 Step communities are purposely not Christian.

As Quakers, we may be tempted to say that a successful 12 Stepper has reached into themselves and found that of God within them.

And perhaps we’re right.

Those of us who are Christian may find ourselves wondering where is Christ in these conversions?

I won’t address that today.

But I invite you to think about it.

As we settle into waiting worship this morning, I ask whether you resonate with the pre-conversion statements Paul’s impersonation utters, “for I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” Why or why not?