Romans 7:7-12

Don't Blame the Mirror: The Law's Righteous Work Text: Romans 7:7-12

Introduction: The War on Diagnosis

We live in a therapeutic age, which is another way of saying we live in an age that hates a firm diagnosis. If a doctor tells a man he has a terminal disease, the modern impulse is not to fight the disease but to get a second opinion from a doctor who will lie. We want to be told that we are fine, that we are healthy, that our problems are not really our fault. We want to be affirmed, not judged. And when we are confronted with a standard that reveals our sickness, our immediate reaction is to attack the standard. If the X-ray shows a tumor, we want to smash the X-ray machine. If the mirror shows a dirty face, we want to shatter the mirror.

This is precisely the war that our culture is waging against the Law of God. The Law says that marriage is between a man and a woman, and so our generation says the Law is bigoted. The Law says you shall not steal, and so our generation redefines theft as social justice. The Law says you shall not covet, and so our generation builds an entire economic and political system on the foundation of institutionalized envy. In every case, the diagnosis of sin is rejected by attacking the diagnostic tool. The Law is called hateful, oppressive, and sinful because it has the audacity to call us sinners.

The Apostle Paul confronts this ancient and very modern error head-on. Having just declared that we are dead to the Law as a system of earning righteousness (vv. 1-6), he anticipates the immediate objection: "So, Paul, you're saying the Law is the bad guy? You're saying the Law is sin?" Paul's answer is a thunderous rejection of this foolishness. He shows us that the Law has a crucial, God-given, and holy function. But its function is not to save us. Its function is to show us with perfect clarity just how desperately we need to be saved.


The Text

What shall we say then? Is the Law sin? May it never be! Rather, I would not have come to know sin except through the Law. For I would not have known about coveting if the Law had not said, "YOU SHALL NOT COVET."
But sin, taking opportunity through the commandment, worked out in me coveting of every kind. For apart from the Law sin is dead.
Now I was once alive apart from the Law, but when the commandment came, sin revived and I died;
and this commandment, which was to lead to life, was found to lead to death for me.
For sin, taking an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me.
So, the Law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.
(Romans 7:7-12 LSB)

The Law as a Divine Revealer (v. 7)

Paul begins by defending the Law against a slanderous accusation.

"What shall we say then? Is the Law sin? May it never be! Rather, I would not have come to know sin except through the Law. For I would not have known about coveting if the Law had not said, 'YOU SHALL NOT COVET.'" (Romans 7:7 LSB)

Paul's response, "May it never be!", is the strongest possible negation in the Greek. It is an expression of horror. The thought that God's Law could be sinful is an abomination. The Law is not the problem; the Law is the divine instrument that exposes the problem. It is the straight edge that reveals how crooked we are. It is the light that, when flipped on in a dark room, reveals the filth and the roaches. You don't blame the light for the roaches. You thank the light for showing you that you have a roach problem.

The Law does not create sin; it defines it. It gives sin its name and its character. Paul gives a personal, and very potent, example. "I would not have known about coveting..." Why does he pick the tenth commandment? Because coveting is a sin of the heart. It is entirely internal. A man can be a pillar of the community, outwardly obedient to every rule, and still be a raging furnace of covetousness on the inside. This is the genius of God's Law. It doesn't just regulate behavior; it penetrates to the level of motive and desire. It shows us that our problem is not just that we do bad things, but that we have bad hearts. It strips away all pretense of self-righteousness. You might be able to convince yourself you haven't murdered or committed adultery, but you cannot honestly say you have never wanted something that wasn't yours. The Law, when it truly comes home to the heart, silences every mouth.


Sin, the Master Opportunist (v. 8, 11)

Next, Paul personifies sin, describing it as an active, enemy agent that weaponizes the good Law of God.

"But sin, taking opportunity through the commandment, worked out in me coveting of every kind... For sin, taking an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me." (Romans 7:8, 11 LSB)

Notice that sin is the subject of the verb. Sin worked. Sin deceived. Sin killed. Sin is not a passive weakness or a simple mistake. It is an active, hostile power that dwells within us. And it is a brilliant strategist. It takes "opportunity" through the commandment. The Greek word is aphorme, which means a "base of operations." Sin sets up a military base on the holy ground of God's Law and launches its attacks from there.

How does this work? The very existence of a prohibition provokes our rebellious nature. It's the "Wet Paint, Do Not Touch" sign that makes your fingers itch. The commandment says, "You shall not covet," and sin, that treacherous lawyer in your heart, immediately whispers, "Why not? What are you missing out on? God is holding out on you." It takes the good desire for things and twists it into a forbidden longing. The Law draws a clear line, and our fallen nature, instigated by sin, finds that line irresistibly attractive to cross.

And sin is a deceiver. It promises liberty and delivers slavery. It promises fulfillment and brings forth death. It is the ultimate bait-and-switch. It used the commandment to deceive Eve in the garden, suggesting God's command was a restriction on her freedom rather than a protection of her life. And that same deception killed her, and through her, it killed us all. Sin uses the Law to provoke our rebellion, and then it uses the Law again to condemn us for that rebellion. It is a cunning and deadly enemy.


The Death of Self-Righteousness (v. 9-10)

Paul now describes the personal crisis that the Law brought into his own life.

"Now I was once alive apart from the Law, but when the commandment came, sin revived and I died; and this commandment, which was to lead to life, was found to lead to death for me." (Romans 7:9-10 LSB)

What does he mean, "I was once alive apart from the Law"? This was Saul of Tarsus, the Pharisee of Pharisees, a man who lived and breathed the Law. This "life" was the life of self-righteous ignorance. It is the state of every "good person" who has never truly felt the spiritual force of God's demands. He was alive in his own estimation. He was confident, proud, and secure in his own righteousness because he was grading himself on a curve. He had the Law, but he had tamed it, domesticated it, and reduced it to a checklist of external performances.

But then "the commandment came." This was not just hearing the words. This was the Holy Spirit taking the words "You shall not covet" and driving them like a spear into his heart. It was the moment he saw that the Law condemned not just his actions, but his very desires. In that moment, two things happened. First, "sin revived." The sleeping dragon of indwelling sin, which he had thought was dead or at least sedated, roared to life and showed him its true power. Second, "I died." The person who died was Saul the Pharisee. His pride, his self-sufficiency, his confidence in his own righteousness, were all slain. This is the death that must precede true life. You must be utterly slain by the Law before you can be made alive by the Gospel.

And so the great paradox is revealed. The Law, which was given "to lead to life" (Lev. 18:5), was found to lead to death. The Law is a perfect map to a destination, but it gives a man with two broken legs no ability to make the journey. For a sinner, a perfect standard is nothing but a perfect condemnation.


The Unimpeachable Character of the Law (v. 12)

After this devastating account of his own encounter with the Law, Paul brings it all to a firm conclusion, completely exonerating the Law itself.

"So, the Law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good." (Romans 7:12 LSB)

Having shown what the Law does, to reveal sin and kill our self-righteousness, Paul can now declare what the Law is. The fault is not in the Law. The fault is in us. You do not blame a perfectly calibrated scale for accurately reporting your weight. You do not blame the plumb line for revealing that your wall is crooked.

The Law is holy. This means it is set apart; it is from God and it reflects His perfect character. God is holy, and therefore His Law is holy.

The Law is righteous. This means it is just. Its demands are right. It draws the line between good and evil in exactly the right place. There is nothing unfair or arbitrary about it.

The Law is good. This means it is beneficial. It is for our good. It restrains evil in society, it guides the believer in sanctification, and most importantly for this context, it performs the good and necessary work of driving us out of ourselves and to the foot of the cross.


The Only Remedy

So the Law is the perfect diagnostic tool that reveals a fatal disease. It is the perfect X-ray that shows the cancer riddling our souls. But it offers no cure. It can show you your sin, but it cannot remove your sin. It can condemn you, but it cannot forgive you. It can kill your self-righteousness, but it cannot give you Christ's righteousness.

For that, we must look outside the Law to the one who is the end of the Law for righteousness for all who believe (Rom. 10:4). Jesus Christ came and fulfilled the Law's perfect demands in His life. He lived the perfectly holy, righteous, and good life that we failed to live. And then He took upon Himself the Law's perfect penalty for our sin in His death. He absorbed the curse of the Law that we deserved.

Because of Christ, the Christian's relationship to the Law is radically changed. It is no longer our accuser. It is no longer the instrument of our death. For the one who is in Christ, the Law is no longer a ladder to climb to heaven, but a lamp to guide our feet as we walk in grateful obedience to the God who saved us. The Law drives us to the Gospel for salvation, and the Gospel frees us to delight in the Law for our sanctification. The Law is holy, righteous, and good, and it performs its greatest good when it shows us our utter ruin and forces us to flee to the only one who can save, the Lord Jesus Christ.