Commentary - Romans 9:1-5

Bird's-eye view

Having just concluded the glorious crescendo of Romans 8, where Paul declares that absolutely nothing can separate the elect from the love of God in Christ, he now appears to slam on the brakes. The transition into chapter 9 is jarring, moving from the highest peak of assurance to the deepest valley of sorrow. This is not a contradiction, but a necessary pastoral and theological pivot. The obvious question raised by the end of chapter 8 is, "What about Israel?" If God's elect are eternally secure, what are we to make of the widespread unbelief of the Jewish people, God's chosen nation? Has God's word failed? Paul's answer, which will unfold over the next three chapters, is a robust defense of God's righteousness and the fidelity of His promises.

In these opening five verses, Paul establishes his profound grief over the spiritual state of his kinsmen. He does this with a solemn, threefold oath, underscoring the sincerity of his anguish. He then lists the immense, concrete, historical privileges that God bestowed upon Israel, culminating in the greatest privilege of all: that from them, the Messiah came in the flesh. This section sets the stage for Paul's larger argument about election, distinguishing between a national, corporate election to privilege and a personal, saving election to eternal life. He is laying the groundwork to show that God's promises have not failed because God was never promising unconditional salvation to every physical descendant of Abraham in the first place.

Outline

Context In Romans

Romans 9, 10, and 11 form a distinct unit within the letter, addressing the problem of Jewish unbelief in light of the gospel of grace that Paul has systematically laid out in chapters 1-8. The end of chapter 8 is a mountain top of assurance for the believer. "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" Paul asks, before concluding that nothing can. But any thoughtful reader, particularly a Jewish one, would immediately ask about ethnic Israel. They were God's elect people. And yet, the majority of them were rejecting their Messiah and were, by all appearances, separated from the love of Christ. Does this mean God's promises are breakable? Is His word void? Paul must address this issue head-on to vindicate the character of God. This section is therefore not a detour from his main argument but is the necessary application of his gospel to the great question of redemptive history: the place of Israel in the plan of God.

Key Issues

The Great Heaviness

It is essential that we see the heart of the apostle before we try to untangle the doctrines of this chapter. Romans 9 is one of the most potent chapters in the Bible on the topic of God's sovereignty in salvation, but it is introduced with a torrent of human emotion and pastoral grief. Paul does not approach the doctrine of election as a cold, abstract philosopher. He comes to it as a broken-hearted evangelist, a man who loves his people so much that he is willing to entertain an impossible thought for their sake. If we try to understand the high doctrines that follow without first grasping the depth of the love that precedes, we will inevitably distort them. A right understanding of divine sovereignty does not produce fatalism or hard-heartedness. Rather, it fuels a passionate love for the lost because it is rooted in the character of a God who is Himself love.

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 I am telling the truth in Christ, I am not lying, my conscience testifies with me in the Holy Spirit,

Paul begins with an exceptionally strong affirmation of his truthfulness. He stacks up three witnesses: he speaks in Christ, his own conscience testifies, and that testimony is borne in the Holy Spirit. This is not the language of a man with a minor point to make. He is about to say something that his opponents might find incredible, namely, the depth of his love for the very people who were hounding him across the Mediterranean world. He is establishing his credentials as a true Israelite, not as a renegade. His claim to love his kinsmen is not a lie, but a profound spiritual reality, attested by the entire Godhead.

2 that I have great sorrow and unceasing grief in my heart.

Here is the substance of his solemn oath. He is in a state of constant and deep emotional pain. The words indicate a heavy, weighty sorrow. This is not a fleeting mood; it is unceasing. Why? Because the people he loves, his own flesh and blood, are perishing. They are rejecting their own Messiah and thereby calling down judgment upon themselves. This is the heart of a true pastor, a true evangelist. He takes no joy in the condemnation of others, even his persecutors. Their lostness is a crushing weight upon his spirit.

3 For I could wish that I myself were accursed, separated from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh,

This is one of the most staggering statements in the Pauline corpus. He says he could wish himself to be accursed (anathema) and cut off from Christ if it would mean the salvation of his fellow Jews. This is a hypothetical, impossible wish, and he knows it. He has just spent a chapter proving that nothing can separate him from Christ's love. But the impossibility of the condition does not diminish the reality of the sentiment. It is a love that mirrors, in a finite human way, the love of Christ Himself, who did become a curse for us. It also echoes the cry of Moses, who was willing to be blotted out of God's book for the sake of sinful Israel (Ex. 32:32). This is not a denial of the doctrine of perseverance, but rather the strongest possible expression of sacrificial love. He identifies his antagonists in the most intimate terms: my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh.

4 who are Israelites, to whom belongs the adoption as sons, and the glory and the covenants and the giving of the Law and the temple service and the promises,

Paul now begins to list the magnificent spiritual privileges that God gave to the nation of Israel. This is not an exercise in nostalgia; it is crucial to his argument. The greatness of their privilege magnifies the tragedy of their unbelief. First, they are Israelites, the people who wrestle with God and are named by God. To them belongs the adoption as sons, a national sonship that pictured the individual adoption of believers. The glory refers to the Shekinah, the visible manifestation of God's presence that filled the tabernacle and temple. They had the covenants, plural, referring to the great covenantal administrations with Abraham, Moses, and David. They received the giving of the Law at Sinai, a revelation of God's righteous character. They had the temple service, the entire sacrificial and liturgical system that taught them about sin and grace. And they had the promises of God, particularly the promise of the coming Messiah.

5 whose are the fathers, and from whom is the Christ according to the flesh, who is God over all, blessed forever. Amen.

The list of privileges continues and climaxes. Theirs are the fathers, the great patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the foundational recipients of the covenant promises. And then, the ultimate privilege, the one that crowns all the others: from them, as to His human nature, the Christ came. The Messiah was a Jew. But Paul does not stop there. He immediately clarifies the full identity of this Christ. He is not merely the Christ according to the flesh. He is also the one who is God over all, blessed forever. Amen. This is one of the clearest and most powerful declarations of the deity of Jesus Christ in all of Scripture. The one who came from Israel as a man is in fact the sovereign God who rules over everything. The sentence concludes with a doxology, an outburst of praise. Paul cannot name his Lord without blessing Him. This final clause is the key to everything. Israel's rejection is so tragic precisely because they are rejecting their own kinsman who is also their God.

Application

First, we must take a lesson from Paul's heart. Do we feel a genuine, deep-seated grief over the lostness of those around us, particularly our own families and countrymen? It is easy to become callous, especially toward those who are hostile to the gospel. Paul shows us a better way. Our theological precision about God's sovereignty must be matched by a deep, personal compassion for sinners. If our doctrine does not break our hearts for the lost, then we are holding it wrongly.

Second, this passage is a potent reminder that spiritual privilege is no guarantee of salvation. The Israelites had every possible external advantage. They had the Scriptures, the covenants, the liturgy, the prophets, and the very presence of God in their midst. And yet, for all that, they were perishing in unbelief. We in the evangelical world are surrounded by Bibles, churches, conferences, and books. We can be born into Christian families and raised in the rhythms of the covenant community. These are all tremendous gifts from God, just as Israel's privileges were. But they are not substitutes for a personal, living faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. It is possible to have the fathers as your ancestors and to have Christ as your kinsman according to the flesh, and still be accursed and separated from Him. The only thing that bridges the gap is repentance and faith.

Finally, we must worship Christ as God over all. The climax of Israel's history was the coming of their God in human flesh. All their privileges pointed to Him. Our lives must also climax in Him. He is not a mere historical figure or a good moral teacher. He is the sovereign Lord of the universe, blessed forever. Our response to the problem of unbelief, our response to our own sin, and our response to the privileges God has given us must all terminate in this one great reality: the worship of Jesus Christ, God over all.