Privilege, Anguish, and the Unshakeable God Text: Romans 9:1-5
Introduction: The Scandal of Particularity
We come now to one of the most majestic and, for our egalitarian age, one of the most offensive sections of all Scripture. Romans 9, 10, and 11 form a distinct unit, a great theological mountain range that deals with the question of Israel. Having just concluded his soaring declaration that nothing can separate the believer from the love of God in Christ, Paul must now address the elephant in the room. If God's promises are so secure, what about the Jews? What about God's chosen people, who for the most part have rejected their own Messiah? Has the word of God failed? Is God unfaithful?
Our modern sensibilities want to flatten every distinction. We want a god who is vaguely nice to everyone in the same way, a god who would never dream of choosing one people over another. But the God of the Bible is not the god of modern sentimentality. He is the sovereign Lord of history, and He has always worked through particular choices. He chose Abraham out of Ur. He chose Isaac, not Ishmael. He chose Jacob, not Esau. He chose Israel to be His treasured possession. And ultimately, He chose to send His Son through the lineage of this one particular nation.
This scandal of particularity is at the heart of the gospel. God did not send a committee of saviors to all nations simultaneously. He sent one man, Jesus of Nazareth, a Jew, at a particular time in history, in a particular place. To deal with Romans 9 is to deal with the bedrock reality of God's sovereignty in election. But before Paul launches into his unanswerable defense of God's righteousness in His choices, he first opens his own heart. He shows us that high-octane, rigorous theology is not incompatible with deep, heartfelt, pastoral anguish. In fact, true theology should always produce it. A doctrine of election that does not break your heart for the lost is a doctrine you have not yet understood.
In these first five verses, Paul establishes his credibility, reveals his profound grief, and lays out the staggering spiritual wealth of the nation that was, in its tragic blindness, rejecting its own inheritance. This is not just a history lesson about the Jews; it is a lesson for the Church today about the dangers of presuming upon privilege and the glorious, Christ-centered foundation of all God's promises.
The Text
I am telling the truth in Christ, I am not lying, my conscience testifies with me in the Holy Spirit, that I have great sorrow and unceasing grief in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed, separated from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh, 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, whose are the fathers, and from whom is the Christ according to the flesh, who is God over all, blessed forever. Amen.
(Romans 9:1-5 LSB)
An Anguish Authenticated by the Trinity (vv. 1-2)
We begin with Paul's solemn, three-fold oath:
"I am telling the truth in Christ, I am not lying, my conscience testifies with me in the Holy Spirit, that I have great sorrow and unceasing grief in my heart." (Romans 9:1-2)
Paul knows that what he is about to say, both about his love for Israel and about God's sovereign election, will be hard to believe. His enemies frequently accused him of being a traitor to his people, of abandoning his Jewish heritage for the sake of the Gentiles. So he begins with this astonishingly strong affirmation. He calls upon the entire Godhead to bear witness to his sincerity. He speaks "in Christ," his ultimate authority and reality. His "conscience," that internal witness, is testifying in concert "in the Holy Spirit." This is not mere human emotion; this is a Spirit-wrought, Christ-centered sorrow. He is not just sad; he has "great sorrow and unceasing grief."
This is the heart of a true evangelist. It is the heart of a true pastor. It is the heart of Christ Himself, who wept over Jerusalem. Paul has just spent eight chapters detailing the glories of salvation and the unshakable security of the believer, but this does not make him callous toward those who are perishing. On the contrary, the greatness of the salvation he possesses is precisely what fuels the greatness of his sorrow for those who reject it. If you have no grief for the lost, it is a fair question whether you truly grasp what it means to be saved.
The world thinks that strong theological conviction, particularly on a doctrine like predestination, must lead to a cold, fatalistic detachment. Paul demonstrates that the exact opposite is true. A deep understanding of God's sovereign grace should produce the deepest passion for the souls of men. Paul's heart is not a placid lake; it is a raging sea of grief for his kinsmen.
A Love That Would Be Damned (v. 3)
Paul then quantifies his grief with a statement that should take our breath away.
"For I could wish that I myself were accursed, separated from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh," (Romans 9:3 LSB)
This is a love that echoes the love of Moses, who prayed, "But now, if You will, forgive their sin and if not, please blot me out from Your book which You have written!" (Exodus 32:32). More than that, it echoes the love of the Savior Himself, who actually became a curse for us (Galatians 3:13). Paul is saying that if it were possible, if his own damnation could secure the salvation of his fellow Jews, he would make that trade. The word for "accursed" is anathema, a thing devoted to utter destruction.
Of course, he knows this is a theological impossibility. Nothing can separate him from the love of Christ, as he just finished proving. But this is not a calculated, logical statement; it is the cry of a breaking heart. It is hyperbole born of an almost incomprehensible love. He identifies them as his "brothers," his "kinsmen according to the flesh." This is a crucial distinction. He is not talking about his brothers in Christ, but his ethnic family. He has a deep, abiding, covenantal love for the people from whom he sprang. Christianity does not obliterate our natural affections and loyalties; it reorders and sanctifies them.
This verse is a profound rebuke to any form of cheap, easy-believism that treats the damnation of others as a light thing. It is also a rebuke to any form of racial or ethnic animosity within the church. Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles, has a heart that is being torn apart for the Jews.
The Heirlooms of Israel (v. 4)
Why does he feel this way? Because he understands what they are rejecting. He now lists the extraordinary privileges, the spiritual heirlooms, that God bestowed upon ethnic Israel.
"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," (Romans 9:4 LSB)
First, they are "Israelites," the people of the covenant name, the people who wrestled with God. And to them belongs, first, "the adoption as sons." Long before individual believers were adopted into God's family, the entire nation was called God's son (Exodus 4:22). They were brought into a unique, corporate, familial relationship with Yahweh.
Second, "the glory." This refers to the Shekinah glory, the visible manifestation of God's presence that filled the tabernacle and the temple. No other nation had God dwelling in their midst in such a tangible way.
Third, "the covenants." Note the plural. The Abrahamic, Mosaic, and Davidic covenants were all made with them, outlining God's unfolding plan of redemption.
Fourth, "the giving of the Law." While the Gentiles had the law written on their hearts, only Israel received the written, explicit revelation of God's righteous standards at Sinai. It was a staggering privilege to know what God required.
Fifth, "the temple service." They were given the precise liturgy for how to approach a holy God. The sacrificial system, the priesthood, the festivals, all of it was a divine roadmap pointing to the coming Christ.
Sixth, "the promises." These are the prophetic promises of the Messiah, of restoration, and of a coming kingdom. The entire Old Testament is a book of promises made to them. The tragedy Paul is lamenting is that the nation that held the deed to the entire inheritance was now in the process of refusing to cash it in.
The Climax of All Privilege (v. 5)
Paul now brings this list of privileges to its stunning climax.
"whose are the fathers, and from whom is the Christ according to the flesh, who is God over all, blessed forever. Amen." (Romans 9:5 LSB)
Seventh, "whose are the fathers." They have the patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, as their ancestors. They are the people of the foundational story of redemption.
And the eighth and final privilege, the one to which all the others pointed, is this: "and from whom is the Christ according to the flesh." The Messiah, the promised King, came from their own bloodline. The eternal Son of God took on a Jewish body. This is their ultimate claim to fame, their greatest honor. And it is their greatest shame, for they rejected Him.
But Paul cannot stop there. He must make it clear who this Christ is. He is not just the Messiah "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. Paul stacks the deck. The Christ who came from the Jews is the God who is over all things. The tragedy is therefore infinite. In rejecting Jesus of Nazareth, they were not just rejecting a prophet; they were rejecting their own God, who had visited them in the flesh. The "Amen" at the end is not just a concluding word; it is a seal of affirmation, a solemn declaration of this glorious and terrible truth.
Conclusion: Privilege is Not Possession
So what is the point of all this for us? This passage is a thunderous warning against spiritual presumption. The Jews had every spiritual advantage imaginable. They had the right ancestry, the right Scriptures, the right place of worship. They had every external marker of being God's people. And yet, for the most part, they were lost, "accursed and cut off from Christ."
This teaches us that proximity to the things of God is not the same as possession of God. You can grow up in a Christian home, you can be baptized, you can be a member of the soundest church in town, you can have all the theological books, you can have "the fathers" of the Reformation as your heritage, and you can still be accursed and cut off from Christ.
All these privileges, from the adoption to the covenants to the Christ Himself, are of no benefit unless they are received by faith. And as Paul will go on to argue, that faith is itself a sovereign gift. The great tragedy of Israel was that they began to trust in the privileges themselves, in their fleshly connection to Abraham, rather than in the God of the privileges.
Let Paul's anguish be a model for us. Let us look upon our family, our neighbors, and our nation, especially those who have had every Christian privilege and have turned their back on it, and let us feel a great and unceasing grief. And let that grief drive us to our knees in prayer and out into the world with the gospel. For the same Christ who came from the Jews according to the flesh, the God over all, blessed forever, is still mighty to save all who call upon Him, whether Jew or Gentile.