being a sinner by nature still, and in the body still, he meets the Law, and meets
temptation, in any strength short of the definitely sought power of the Holy Ghost,
making Christ all to him for peace and victory. And he implies, surely, that this failure is
not a bare hypothesis, but that he knows what it is. It is not that God is not sufficient. He
is so, always, now, forever. But the man does not always adequately use God; as he ought
to do, as he might do, as he will ever rise up afresh to do. And when he does not, the
resultant failure-though it be but a thought of vanity, a flush of unexpressed anger, a
microscopic flaw in the practise of truthfulness, an unhallowed imagination, darting in a
moment through the soul-is to him sorrow, burthen, shame. It tells him that "the flesh"
is present still, present at least in its elements, though God can keep them out of
combination. It tells him that, though immensely blest, and knowing now exactly where
to seek, and to find, a constant practical deliverance (oh, joy unspeakable!), he is still "in
the body," and that its conditions are still of "death." And so he looks with great desire
for its redemption. The present of grace is good, beyond all his hopes of old. But the
future of glory is "far better."
Thus the man at once "serves the Law of God," as its willing bondman (δουλευω,
Rom_7:25), in the life of grace, and submits himself, with reverence and shame, to its
convictions, when, if but for an hour, or a moment, he "reverts" to the life of the flesh.
Let us take the passage up now for a nearly continuous translation.
What shall we say then, in face of the thought of our death divorce, in Christ, from the
Law’s condemning power. Is the Law sin? Are they only two phases of one evil? Away
with the thought! But-here is the. connection of the two-I should not have known,
recognised, understood, sin but by means of law. For coveting, for example, I should not
have known, should not have recognised as sin, if the Law had not been saying, "Thou
shalt not covet." But sin, making a fulcrum of the commandment, produced, effected, in
me all coveting, every various application of the principle. For, law apart, sin is dead-in
the sense of lack of conscious action. It needs "a holy Will," more or less revealed, to
occasion its collision. Given no holy will, known or surmised, and it is "dead" as
rebellion, though not as pollution. But I, the person to whom it lay buried, was all alive,
conscious and content, law apart, once on a time (strange ancient memory in that
biography!). But when the commandment came to my conscience and my will, sin rose to
life again, ("again"; so it was no new creation after all) and I-died; I found myself legally
doomed to death, morally without life power, and bereft of the self-satisfaction that
seemed my vital breath. And the commandment that was lifewards, prescribing nothing
but perfect right, the straight line to life eternal, proved for me deathwards. For sin,
making a fulcrum of the commandment, deceived me, into thinking fatally wrong of God
and of myself, and through it killed me, discovered me to myself as legally and morally a
dead man. So that the Law, indeed, is holy, and the commandment, the special precept
which was my actual death blow, holy, and just, and good. (He says, "the Law, indeed,"
with the implied antithesis that "sin, on the other hand," is the opposite; the whole fault
of his misery beneath the Law lies with sin.) The good thing then, this good Law, has it to
me become death? Away with the thought! Nay, but sin did so become that it might come
out as sin, working out death for me by means of the good Law-that sin might prove
overwhelmingly sinful, through the commandment, which at once called it up, and, by
awful contrast, exposed its nature. Observe he does not say merely that sin thus
"appeared" unutterably evil. More boldly, in this sentence of mighty paradoxes, he says
that it "became" such. As it were, it developed its "character" into its fullest "action,"
when it thus used the eternal Will to set creature against Creator. Yet even this was
overruled; all happened thus "in order," so that the very virulence of the plague might