First Presbyterian Church
July 9, 2023, Pentecost 6A
Psalm 119:169-176; Romans 7:14-25
Getting It Wrong
Before plunging into Paul's latest bit of pondering, it's worth a stop in the longest chapter in the Bible, which (perhaps not surprisingly) comes from the longest book of the Bible.
Psalm 119 is an acrostic poem, with each section beginning with a corresponding letter of the Hebrew alphabet; this means twenty-two sections in all, each consisting of eight verses as our modern arrangement of scripture divides it (if you read along in your pew Bible you saw this structure as it appears in print). Into this extended poetic structure the author has poured what one scholar calls "the exaltation of Torah," most likely a reference to those first five books of Hebrew scripture typically regarded as the law in Hebrew usage.[1] Across these twenty-two stanzas the poet has indeed exalted the Torah, spinning out verses in praise of that law despite whatever sufferings or persecutions the author might experience. The first seven verses of today's reading are relatively typical of the substance of the larger psalm.
But then, what happens in the eighth verse of this reading, the very last verse of this "exaltation of Torah"? For the first time in this extended psalm the author acknowledges "I have strayed like a lost sheep. Seek your servant, for I have not forgotten your commandments."
Notice that the author doesn't claim to have forgotten the law; in fact the author very specifically says "I have not forgotten your commandments"; nonetheless the author has gone astray "like a lost sheep." No matter how diligent and how joyful and how consistent the author's pursuit of the Torah has been, still at the very last the psalmist has to confess to straying from the path of Torah. All the study and all the law wasn't enough to keep the psalmist from getting it wrong.
To this, the Apostle Paul could relate.
Already in this trip through his letter to the churches at Rome, we have seen Paul make the point more than once that the law is in no way capable of casting out or eliminating the condition of sin. It was (and is) good for naming particular sins, and to some degree for painting a picture of what a whole and good life in God might look like, but knowledge of the law was no guarantee of keeping the law, as our psalmist experienced by the last verse. We have also had occasion to be reminded that Paul's own life gave evidence of how his very zealousness at keeping the law had led him into the horrifying point of persecuting those who followed Jesus in Jerusalem and into Damascus as well, interrupted only by literal divine intervention in the form of his encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus. In this case the law had not only not prevented him from sinning; it had in fact led him into sinning.
We need for a moment to make clear just what Paul is talking about when he speaks of "sin" in this singular sense. Modern rhetoric about "sin" tends to speak of individual actions of violation; even our typical Confession of Sin in the liturgy most often names out or at least suggests particular actions or non-actions for which we confess. This is not what Paul speaks of here; instead, he is writing of a larger, overwhelming condition in which humanity is bound save for the intervention of Jesus. We might think of the word "sinfulness," though even that word doesn't quite capture the totality of human bondage to sin. The word "fallenness," tracing the human condition back to the fall of Adam and Eve, comes closer in some ways; John Calvin's doctrinal formulation of "total depravity" is not completely off the mark, but the altered shades of meaning of that word "depravity" make this term harder to explain in modern theological formulation.
In certain modern theological traditions this condition of sin gets personified, in the form of "the Devil" or "Satan" (both of which are used in slightly different ways in scripture). Such usage is rather easily twisted into comedic farce, perhaps never more effectively than in the 70s-era comedy of Flip Wilson, the one who punctuated much of his comedy with the phrase "the Devil made me do it." Nowadays, we might almost be able to apply a term borrowed from a very popular modern science fiction/fantasy movie series, in which some characters are considered to be bound to "the dark side of the Force" (let the reader understand).
It is in this understanding of "sin" that Paul's twisty monologue in chapter 7 (and for that matter the condition of the psalmist in 119:176) is best understood. Paul upholds the law as good and strives himself to keep to it, but the sin that resides within him not only causes him to fail to keep the law, but also twists his keeping of the law to bring harm and to achieve the results of sin (as in his persecution of Christ-followers prior to his conversion).
The way Paul chooses to express all of this in this particular passage is itself distinctive, particularly considering that this is a collection of churches Paul has not visited (though we will learn later that Paul is familiar with some of the members there). While Paul has occasionally gotten personal in some of his letters, this is seemingly a much more personal and even intimate bit of sharing Paul does here. It is not without parallels in Greco-Roman rhetorical style and practice, but it's not typical of Paul, for the most part.
The culmination of this confessional is therefore appropriately emotional and charged with anguished struggle and something close to despair:
What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?
Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord!
So then, what might have been a formulaic recitation, of a type Paul uses frequently in his letters, is reconnected to the emotional charge and challenge of this passage. In short, it sounds like Paul really means it, as a matter of the heart and not just of the head.
Finally, we are reminded that, as much as we would like to think of sanctification as a one-and-done process, we are forced to remember that it is ongoing. Our minds may want to cling to God's truth, but our physical natures are still not escaped from fallenness or even "the dark side of the Force." Our only hope of that is in the ongoing and unending sanctification made possible in the work of Jesus.
Things do get better in this letter. Chapter 8 will mark a change of tone and of content, to some degree, and Paul's rhetoric won't need to be quite so dark and tangled. Even so, this is a thing to remember. We don't get free of sinful nature through our own efforts. One might remember the example of John Nash, the mathematician played by Russell Crowe in the movie A Beautiful Mind, who was convinced that he could with his own mind escape the bondage of the mental illness he confronted, only to find out that the very mind that was so bound could not possibly free itself unaided. We do not escape sin, fallenness, or the "dark side" of our own efforts; our only way out is "through Jesus Christ our Lord."
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Hymns (from Glory to God: The Presbyterian Hymnal): #32, I Sing the Mighty Power of God; #440, Jesus, Lover of My Soul; #53, O God, Who Gives Us Life
[1] David Noel Freedman, Psalm 119: The Exaltation of Torah, Biblical and Judaic Studies, vol. 6 (Winona Lake: Eisenbruns, 1999).
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