In my last two blog posts, we’ve worked to establish the context of Paul’s letter to the Romans. This was not a calm, unified church receiving abstract theology. It was a deeply divided community—primarily along ethnic lines—trying to follow Jesus in the heart of the Roman Empire.
Emperor Claudius had expelled Jewish Christians from Rome, leaving Gentiles to shape the church’s life and leadership. When Jewish believers eventually returned, the church they came back to no longer felt like home. Customs had changed. Power had shifted. And before long, the church found itself divided into two camps Paul famously calls “the weak” and “the strong.”
The strong could tolerate more.
The weak could not.
And the strong interpreted the weak’s convictions as a sign of inferior faith.
If that sounds distant or theoretical, it shouldn’t.
During the COVID pandemic, I watched churches fracture along similar lines. I got to see this personally in two congregations. One congregations had many members who worked in medical professions. The other half were mostly farmers and oil field workers. They were working with different data, different risks, and different lived realities—and some began accusing the other side of having weak faith based on the decisions they made in good conscience.
One church leader proudly proclaimed to me, “Not one thing has changed in my life since this nonsense started. I don’t know what everyone’s problem is.”
And at the same time, I buried dear friends who died of COVID and from suicide during the pandemic. I also buried my grandmother whose funeral would normally have exceeded capacity of the church building. Instead, it was only a few family members in attendance due to regulations.
Everything in my life changed.
This is not an ancient problem. It is a human one.
And so Paul writes Romans to show the church how to replace power and privilege with the peace that comes from the gospel, so they can become a truly righteous community.
Righteousness Begins with Relationships
Here’s a main theme in Romans—one that’s easy to miss:
If we do not allow the gospel of Jesus Christ to shape how we relate to one another, we are not a righteous community.
If we do not allow the gospel to shape our understanding of peace, we are not righteous.
And if we insist on defining righteousness on our own terms rather than God’s, we will never stand righteous before Him.
That is why Romans 9–11 matters so much.
Paul does something unexpected here. Instead of focusing on individual salvation, he zooms out to tell a story—a shared story—reminding the church who they are together.
A Shared Story, Not Competing Stories
Romans 9–11 is packed with names and narratives.
Abraham and Sarah
Isaac and Rebecca
Jacob and Esau
Moses and Pharaoh
David
Elijah
Hosea
Isaiah
Exile and return
Failure and mercy
These are not random references. Paul is reminding the church that they belong to a long, unfolding story of God’s covenant faithfulness.
And here’s the key:
Paul is not asking, “Which individuals will be saved?”
He is asking, “Who are the people of God?”
That distinction changes everything.
Romans 9:4–5 lists Israel’s privileges—covenants, law, worship, promises, patriarchs, and the Messiah Himself. And Paul emphasizes something shocking:
God accomplished all of this through the weak.
Paul’s argument is not about superiority…about who’s right and who is wrong. It’s about faith. God has always worked through unlikely people, flawed families, and broken systems to accomplish His purposes. And the people he chose to work through were chosen because of faith.
One Family, One Promise
What Paul reveals is that God’s plan was never ethnic exclusivity. It was always inclusion of the other.
God has been faithful to Abraham’s family in order to include the nations in his salvation.
This one family—Jew and Gentile together—is what Paul elsewhere calls “the Israel of God” (Galatians 6:15–16). Not defined by circumcision or uncircumcision, but by living the new creation reality in Christ.
This means Romans is not telling their story.
It’s telling our story.
When our story culminates in Christ—when righteousness comes not from heritage, law, or effort, but from Jesus—blame dissolves. Superiority collapses. Division loses its footing.
You are not the problem.
I am not the solution.
We are the people God is redeeming.
Together we are the Israel of God.
And that changes how we see one another.
Living in the Word 