Love, Liberty, and the Lordship of Christ Text: Romans 14:13-23
Introduction: The Friction of Freedom
We come now to a passage that is intensely practical. The church is a body, and like any body, its joints can sometimes creak and groan. The church at Rome was a diverse collection of saints, Jews and Gentiles, with varying backgrounds, scruples, and histories. Some came out of a fastidious legalism, where every day and every food was freighted with religious significance. Others came out of a freewheeling paganism, where they had eaten meat offered to idols without a second thought. Now, in Christ, they are one body. But what happens when the brother who believes all food is clean sits down to eat with the brother who believes eating a sausage link offered to Jupiter is tantamount to idolatry? What happens is friction.
Our modern evangelical world has its own set of these "disputable matters." We may not argue much about kosher laws, but we have plenty of our own hot button issues, our own sacred cows. Should Christians drink alcohol? Should they listen to certain kinds of music? Homeschool or public school? Tattoos? Politics? The list is endless. And into this potential minefield of personal conviction and interpersonal conflict, the apostle Paul lays down the law of love. But it is not a sentimental, squishy, "can't we all just get along" kind of love. It is a robust, muscular, Christ-centered love that is more concerned with the health of a brother's soul than with the exercise of its own rights.
This passage is about the traffic rules for Christian liberty. Freedom in Christ is not a license to drive however you please, running red lights and knocking over pedestrians. True liberty is the freedom to serve one another in love. The central issue here is not food or drink. The central issue is the kingdom of God. Paul is going to teach us that our personal freedoms, our dietary choices, and our calendar observances are all secondary, tertiary even, to the great realities of righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. He will teach us that a right zealously guarded can become a profound wrong if it is used to destroy a brother for whom Christ died.
The Text
Therefore let us not judge one another anymore, but rather judge this, not to put a stumbling block or offense before a brother. I know and am convinced in the Lord Jesus that nothing is defiled in itself; but to him who considers anything to be defiled, to him it is defiled. For if because of food your brother is grieved, you are no longer walking according to love. Do not destroy with your food him for whom Christ died. Therefore do not let what is for you a good thing be slandered; for the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. For he who in this way serves Christ is pleasing to God and approved by men. So then let us pursue the things which make for peace and the building up of one another. Do not tear down the work of God for the sake of food. All things indeed are clean, but they are evil for the man who eats and gives offense. It is good not to eat meat or to drink wine, or to do anything by which your brother stumbles. The faith which you have, have as your own conviction before God. Blessed is he who does not judge himself in what he approves. But he who doubts is condemned if he eats, because his eating is not from faith; and whatever is not from faith is sin.
(Romans 14:13-23 LSB)
Stop Judging, Start Discerning (v. 13)
Paul begins by shifting the direction of our judgment.
"Therefore let us not judge one another anymore, but rather judge this, not to put a stumbling block or offense before a brother." (Romans 14:13)
The prohibition here is against a particular kind of judging. This is not a command to disengage your critical faculties or to embrace a mushy relativism. The Bible is filled with commands to judge, to discern, to test the spirits. What is forbidden is the kind of censorious, self-righteous judgment over matters of Christian liberty that Paul has been addressing. It is the judgment of the strong despising the weak, and the weak condemning the strong.
Instead of aiming our judicial eye at our brother's plate, Paul tells us to aim it at our own path. "Judge this," he says. Make a verdict, a firm resolution, about your own conduct. The new object of your judgment should be this: Am I, in the exercise of my freedom, creating an obstacle course for my brother? A "stumbling block" is something that trips someone up. An "offense" is a trap, a snare. The question is not, "Do I have a right to do this?" The question is, "What effect will my action have on my brother?" This is a radical reorientation. It moves the center of gravity from my rights to my brother's well being.
Objective Reality and Subjective Conscience (v. 14)
Paul then lays down an apostolic principle, grounding it in the highest authority.
"I know and am convinced in the Lord Jesus that nothing is defiled in itself; but to him who considers anything to be defiled, to him it is defiled." (Romans 14:14)
First, the objective reality. "In the Lord Jesus," which is to say, with the full authority of Christ, Paul declares that the Old Testament dietary laws regarding clean and unclean foods are fulfilled and set aside. Nothing, no food, is inherently "defiled" or common. This is what Jesus taught (Mark 7:19), and what Peter learned on the rooftop (Acts 10). The strong brother, who eats his ham sandwich with gusto, has the theology right. The food itself is clean.
But then Paul introduces the subjective reality of the conscience. "But to him who considers anything to be defiled, to him it is defiled." This is crucial. While the food is objectively clean, if a brother's conscience is not yet persuaded of this, for him to eat it would be a violation of his conscience. And to violate one's conscience is to sin. God does not want us to act against what we believe He requires of us. Therefore, the conscience, even a misinformed or "weak" conscience, has a binding authority until it is better informed by the Word. You cannot simply tell a brother, "Get over it, your conscience is wrong." You must respect the fact that for him, at that moment, to eat would be sin.
The Law of Love Over the Right to Eat (v. 15)
This brings us to the central application of love.
"For if because of food your brother is grieved, you are no longer walking according to love. Do not destroy with your food him for whom Christ died." (Romans 14:15)
If your brother is "grieved," meaning distressed, wounded in his conscience, or led into sin by your actions, your behavior is no longer governed by love. You may be theologically correct about the food, but you are being relationally and spiritually destructive. You have won the theological argument but lost your brother. This is a bad trade.
And the stakes could not be higher. Paul says, "Do not destroy with your food him for whom Christ died." Think of the staggering disproportion here. You have your liberty to eat a certain food. On the other side of the scale, you have the spiritual well being of a soul for whom the Son of God shed His blood. To elevate your dietary freedom above the value of a blood-bought soul is a grotesque inversion of values. Christ gave up His life to save that man; are you unwilling to give up a pork chop to keep him from stumbling? When you put it that way, the choice becomes stark. To stand on your "rights" in such a situation is to treat the cross of Christ as a cheap thing.
Kingdom Priorities (v. 16-18)
Paul now zooms out to the big picture. The problem is a failure to understand what the kingdom of God is actually about.
"Therefore do not let what is for you a good thing be slandered; for the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. For he who in this way serves Christ is pleasing to God and approved by men." (Romans 14:16-18)
Your freedom in Christ is a "good thing." But if you use it recklessly, you give occasion for unbelievers and weaker believers to slander it. They will look at your "freedom" and call it arrogance, selfishness, and a disregard for others. Your good liberty will get a bad name.
Why? Because you have mistaken the menu for the meal. "The kingdom of God is not eating and drinking." It is not about externals, rituals, diets, or calendars. Those are not the central realities. The kingdom is about "righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." Righteousness is right standing with God and right living before men. Peace is peace with God and peace with the brethren. Joy is the supernatural delight in God that transcends circumstances. These are the weight-bearing beams of the kingdom. Eating and drinking are, in this context, trivialities.
The one who serves Christ by prioritizing these kingdom realities, righteousness, peace, and joy, is the one who is "pleasing to God and approved by men." God is pleased because this man understands the gospel and walks in love. And even men, both inside and outside the church, can recognize the beauty of a life that prioritizes building others up over insisting on its own way. This is attractive Christianity.
Build Up, Don't Tear Down (v. 19-21)
Paul summarizes the practical outworking of this kingdom mindset.
"So then let us pursue the things which make for peace and the building up of one another. Do not tear down the work of God for the sake of food. All things indeed are clean, but they are evil for the man who eats and gives offense. It is good not to eat meat or to drink wine, or to do anything by which your brother stumbles." (Romans 14:19-21)
Our aim, our active pursuit, must be peace and edification, which means "building up." Are your actions, your words, your exercise of liberty, contributing to the structural integrity of the church, or are they knocking bricks out of the wall? The church is "the work of God." It is His construction project. And you can "tear down the work of God for the sake of food." Again, notice the insane disproportion. Wrecking God's building for a sandwich.
Paul reiterates the principle: "All things indeed are clean." The theology is settled. "But they are evil for the man who eats and gives offense." An objectively good thing, like eating meat, becomes a subjective evil for the one who does it in a way that causes another to sin. The action itself is not sinful, but the unloving context makes it so.
Therefore, the principle of love dictates a radical conclusion: "It is good not to eat meat or to drink wine, or to do anything by which your brother stumbles." The strong brother must be willing to curtail his liberty, not just in one area, but in any area ("anything") that would cause his brother to fall. This is the cruciform life. This is what it means to bear one another's burdens.
The Final Principle: Faith (v. 22-23)
The chapter concludes with two summary principles, one for the strong and one for the weak, both centered on the necessity of faith.
"The faith which you have, have as your own conviction before God. Blessed is he who does not judge himself in what he approves. But he who doubts is condemned if he eats, because his eating is not from faith; and whatever is not from faith is sin." (Romans 14:22-23)
To the strong brother, Paul says: Your faith, your conviction that all foods are clean, is a good thing. Hold it "before God." It is between you and Him. It is not a club with which to beat your weaker brother. Don't flaunt it. Don't make it a public spectacle at the expense of others. And then he adds a blessing: "Blessed is he who does not judge himself in what he approves." The man with a clear, robust conscience, who knows his freedom in Christ and walks in it without self-condemnation, is a blessed man. This is the goal for all of us.
But then he turns to the weak, or to anyone acting with a troubled conscience. "But he who doubts is condemned if he eats, because his eating is not from faith." To doubt here means to be uncertain whether something is pleasing to God. To go ahead and do it anyway is to act in defiance of God's perceived will. It is to say, "I'm not sure if God approves of this, but I'm going to do it anyway." That is the essence of rebellion.
This leads to the thunderous, all-encompassing conclusion: "and whatever is not from faith is sin." This is one of the most foundational ethical statements in all of Scripture. Any action, thought, or word that does not arise from a conviction that it is pleasing to God is, by definition, sin. It does not matter if the action is objectively permissible. If it is not done in faith, it is sin for the one doing it. This is because God is concerned not just with our external actions, but with the internal posture of our hearts. He desires children who walk before Him in the glad confidence of faith, seeking to please Him in all things. When we act apart from that faith, we are acting as functional atheists, living as though He does not see or does not care. And that is always sin.