Conclusion: Salvation in Paul’s Letter to the Romans
Previously:
The Meaning of Life Through Death
What’s the Point of the Bible?
(2/2) What’s the Point of the Bible: Causing Anagnorisis in the Reader
(CONCLUSION) What’s the Point of the Bible: What is Faith? It’s not What you Think
Breaking the Demonic Spell: A Twofold Interpretation of Sin in Christian Origins
Holiday Post Series: Divine/Demonic Possession and the Heart of Christianity
(Part 2) Divine/Demonic Possession and the Heart of Christianity
(Part 1 on Romans 2): The Models of Salvation in Romans
(Romans 3) The Modes of Salvation in Romans
Romans 5-6 introduce an ambiguity into the discussion of salvation. Sin is no longer envisioned just as human transgression but as a powerful cosmic force that has enslaved mankind, having them under a spell and forcing them to sin against their will. In this way, what is needed is to boot out Sin and welcome Christ in you as a divine possession boosting your power to resist temptation. In Romans 6 we read about going from a slave to sin to being a slave to righteousness.
Paul says that if the dead are not raised your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Of course, most people live their lives “as though” the next moment won’t be denied, though it could be. The most helpful example of Philosophy and Death I can think of is the spectrum of stances toward death one might take embodied in the ancient notions of Carpe Diem at one pole, and Memento Mori at the other pole. In ancient Greco-Roman philosophy, “carpe diem” (“seize the day”), originating from Horace’s Odes around 23 BCE, represents a stance toward death that emphasizes embracing life’s fleeting pleasures and living fully in the present, given mortality’s inevitability and the uncertainty of tomorrow. This approach aligns with Epicurean influences, urging one to pluck the ripe moments of existence without excessive worry about the future. By contrast, “memento mori” (“remember that you must die”) embodies an opposing perspective, rooted in Stoic thinkers like Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius, as well as earlier philosophers such as Plato, who viewed philosophy itself as a preparation for death. This stance uses the constant awareness of death not to indulge in earthly allure but to cultivate virtue, humility, introspection, and restraint—curbing excesses, focusing on moral living, and sometimes preparing for an afterlife or judgment, as seen in Roman triumphal traditions where a servant reminded victorious generals of their mortality to temper hubris. While the two concepts can overlap or complement each other in motivating purposeful action, they are frequently framed as antithetical: “carpe diem” as empowering and savoring, versus “memento mori” as humbling and resistant to life’s temptations. For example, as a secular activist I write on Historical Christianity and so with the apostle Paul we get the idea that if the dead are not raised we might as well be gluttons and drunks for tomorrow we die (1 Corinthians 15:32) – Paul being from the birthplace of the stoic enlightenment.
Romans preserves an ambiguity of meaning that we also find in the Corinthian Creed. When the creed says “Christ died ‘for’ our sins according to the scripture,” it conveys the sense that Christ died to pay for our sins, but also Christ died because of our sins, using “for” in the sense “I couldn’t sleep for the heat.” It is this ambiguity that expresses the unity of Romans though initially sin means transgression though later in the letter Sin is a powerful cosmic entity enslaving mankind. In this way in Romans 4:7 we have sin being covered, and iniquities forgiven. Christ pays our fine for us, but Christ is also the catalyst making our sinful disposition conspicuous so we can repent and be forgiven, forgiveness not really being meaningful unless we are sorry. Romans 5:12 introduces us to sin as a powerful entity that enslaved mankind. The Law was given so that transgressions would become more conspicuous, “But law came in, so that the trespass might increase, but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, 21 so that, just as sin reigned in death, so grace might also reign through justification leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord (Romans 5:20-21).” If we think of the example of Jesus’ trial before the Jewish high council, the law was only being cited when it served the desires of the Jewish elite, and bent and manipulated to ensure the desired outcome through loopholes. In other words, the letter of the law was being manipulated and the spirit of the law ignored making the corrupt intentions of the high council exacerbated beyond measure. This spectrum of salvation from sin from substitutionary atonement to moral influence reflects Paul’s method (he said to the Jews he was a Jew and to Pagans he was a Pagan).
In the Gospel of John, chapter 18, verse 31, the Jewish leaders respond to Pilate’s suggestion that they judge Jesus according to their own law by saying, “It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death” (or similar phrasing across translations, such as “We are not permitted to execute anyone”).
The context and historical interpretations indicate it refers to restrictions under Roman rule, which generally prohibited the Jewish authorities (the Sanhedrin) from carrying out capital punishment independently, reserving that power for Roman officials like the governor. It also alludes to certain Jewish customs avoiding executions during Passover. While Leviticus sets a capital standard for explicit name-blasphemy, the Old Testament records few executions solely for this (e.g., the blasphemer in Leviticus 24; Naboth’s case is a miscarriage of justice). Prophetic and narrative texts often emphasize divine rather than human retribution, reflecting theological priorities over strict legalism. Later Jewish interpretations (e.g., in the Talmud) narrowed executable blasphemy to very specific acts like cursing with God’s name before witnesses, but these postdate the Old Testament itself.
Earlier in the narrative, the Jewish leaders explicitly state that Jesus deserves death under their own law for claiming to be the Son of God (John 19:7), underscoring that they saw execution as aligned with God’s will via Torah requirements for blasphemy, but they lacked the practical authority to enforce it themselves.
There is a notable parallel in Josephus’ account of Jesus ben Ananias. In The Jewish War (Book 6, Chapter 5, Section 3), Josephus describes how this farmer began prophesying doom against Jerusalem and the temple starting around 62 CE. Jewish leaders arrested him, interrogated and beat him, but then brought him before the Roman procurator Albinus, who had him severely flogged (“whipped till his bones were laid bare”) before deeming him insane and releasing him.
This reflects a similar dynamic where Jewish authorities enlisted Roman power for harsher punishment they did not fully carry out themselves. Scholars have long noted broader parallels between Jesus ben Ananias’ story and elements of the Gospel passion narratives, including prophetic woes, temple-related actions, silence or formulaic responses during questioning, flogging by Romans, and eventual death amid Jerusalem’s destruction (ben Ananias was killed by a Roman siege stone in 70 CE).
In general, condemning someone to death for blasphemy picks up on an ambiguity in Jewish law and tradition. The condemnation of Jesus to death by the Jewish high council (the Sanhedrin) on a charge of blasphemy was not entirely idiosyncratic, but it was highly unusual in the context of Second Temple Judaism (c. 516 BCE–70 CE), primarily due to the extreme rarity of capital executions overall and the debated practical authority of the Sanhedrin to enforce them under Roman rule.
Jewish legal tradition, as reflected in the Mishnah (compiled later but drawing on earlier oral law), emphasized stringent evidentiary requirements for capital cases: at least two eyewitnesses who had warned the offender beforehand, a 23-judge court, and procedural safeguards that made convictions nearly impossible. The Mishnah famously states that a Sanhedrin executing even one person every seven years (or seventy, per some rabbis) was “bloodthirsty” or “destructive” (Makkot 1:10). Rabbis like Tarfon and Akiva claimed they would have maneuvered to prevent any executions. This reflects a de facto aversion to capital punishment, even when theoretically justified for blasphemy. Historical records from the first century CE show virtually no documented executions for blasphemy (or most capital crimes) by Jewish authorities. The only biblical precedent is the stoning in Leviticus 24 itself, a narrative case rather than a historical event from the Second Temple era. Scholars note that capital trials and sentences were theoretical or exceedingly rare, with emphasis shifting to divine judgment or lesser penalties.
A key complicating factor was Roman oversight. Sources like John 18:31 (“It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death”) and Talmudic tradition (e.g., Sanhedrin 41a, stating capital jurisdiction ceased ~40 years before the Temple’s destruction in 70 CE, around 30 CE) indicate the Sanhedrin lacked independent authority for executions, requiring Roman approval. Josephus records cases where Jewish leaders exceeded this (e.g., the illegal stoning of James the brother of Jesus in 62 CE, leading to the high priest’s removal), but these were exceptional and punished. Purely religious charges like blasphemy would not interest Romans, explaining why Jesus’ accusers reframed it politically (claiming kingship, Luke 23:2) to secure crucifixion—a Roman penalty.
In summary, condemning someone for blasphemy was legally grounded but practically extraordinary—executions were so infrequent as to be almost nonexistent, and Roman constraints made independent enforcement improbable. Jesus’ case stands out as one of the few (if not the only) prominently recorded attempts, making it exceptional rather than routine. In other words it seems to be making a point rather than being historical. The Jewish leaders needed to trick the Romans into thinking Jesus was a political insurrectionist and so guilty of sedition against the Roman government, and Jesus was indeed executed by crucifixion (the punishment for sedition) for claiming to be King of the Jews.
There is an internal tension of salvation belonging to Paul. As in Mark, Paul emphasize the cross paying the sin debt, but as in Luke the cross of Paul is identified with the Jewish elite who wrongfully killed Christ which makes sin conspicuous and inspires repentance (compare the apocalyptic 1 Thessalonians 2:14-16).
In Romans 12:1-2 of the NRSVUE, Paul urges believers to offer themselves fully to God, stating: “I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, on the basis of God’s mercy, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of the mind, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.” This concept introduces the chapter’s broader exhortation to live out faith through humility, service, and genuine love, contrasting with ritual sacrifices by emphasizing ongoing, active devotion in daily life.
Romans 12:1’s call to be a “living sacrifice” is more directly the ethical outworking of the believer’s prior participation in Christ’s death and resurrection, as described earlier in the letter (especially Romans 6).In Romans 6 (NRSVUE), Paul explains that through baptism, believers are united with Christ in his crucifixion and death: “We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin” (6:6), and “We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of God, we too might walk in newness of life” (6:4). This is the foundational participation: the believer’s “old self” dies with Christ (breaking sin’s power), and they are raised to new life in him. This union is once-for-all, accomplished by God’s grace through faith. Romans 12:1 builds on this (“I appeal to you therefore… on the basis of God’s mercy”). The “living sacrifice” is not a new atonement or a repetition of Christ’s unique sacrifice (which was “once for all,” as echoed in Hebrews). Instead, it is the response: because believers have already died to sin and been made alive in Christ (Romans 6), they now present their bodies—their whole lives—as ongoing, holy devotion to God. This is “spiritual worship” (or “reasonable service”), involving nonconformity to the world, mind renewal (12:2), and practical service (e.g., using gifts for the body of Christ in 12:3–8).In Paul’s theology, participation in Christ’s sacrifice/crucifixion is primarily the objective reality of Romans 6 (co-crucifixion and co-resurrection), which enables the subjective, daily “living sacrifice” of Romans 12—dying to self and living for God in ethical obedience. The two are connected: the indicative (what God has done—union with Christ’s death) grounds the imperative (offer yourselves as living sacrifices).
In Paul’s letter to the Romans, Sin (ἁμαρτία, often capitalized in theological discussions to highlight its personification) is depicted as a cosmic enslaving power—a tyrannical force that entered the world through Adam, seized dominion over humanity, and reigns through death (Romans 5:12–14, 17, 21; 6:12–14). It is not merely individual wrongdoing but a quasi-personal entity that exploits human weakness (“the flesh”), deceives, and holds the entire world captive, resulting in universal condemnation and spiritual death. The cross—Christ’s crucifixion—is the decisive divine assault that defeats, dethrones, and breaks this power of Sin. Here’s how Romans portrays this victory:
1. The Typological Reversal: Christ vs. Adam (Romans 5:12–21) Sin “entered the world through one man” (Adam), bringing death that “reigned” over all humanity (5:12, 14, 17).
Through one act of righteousness—Christ’s obedient death on the cross—”grace might reign through righteousness to eternal life” (5:18–21).
Christ’s cross does not merely cancel Adam’s trespass; it overwhelmingly surpasses it (“how much more,” repeated in vv. 15, 17). Sin’s reign in death is overthrown by grace’s reign in life, accomplished through Jesus’ sacrificial obedience unto death.
2. Co-Crucifixion and Liberation from Slavery (Romans 6:1–23)Believers are united with Christ in his death: “Our old self was crucified with him” (6:6), so that “the body of sin might be done away with” (or rendered powerless) and “we should no longer be slaves to sin” (6:6; cf. 6:2–4, 11).
Sin’s lordship is broken because death severs a slave’s obligation to a master (6:7, 16–18). By dying with Christ on the cross, believers are freed from Sin’s dominion and transferred to serve a new master—righteousness and God.
Baptism symbolizes this participation: immersion into Christ’s death and resurrection means Sin no longer has rightful authority (6:3–4, 14: “Sin shall not be your master”).
3. Condemnation and Judgment of Sin (Romans 8:1–4)
The law could not defeat Sin because it was weakened by the flesh (8:3a).
God acted decisively: sending His Son “in the likeness of sinful flesh and as a sin offering,” He condemned sin in the flesh (8:3b)—executing judgment on Sin itself in Christ’s body on the cross.
This judicial verdict strips Sin of its power, enabling believers (through the Spirit) to fulfill the law’s righteous requirement by walking in new life, free from condemnation (8:1–2, 4).
In summary, the cross combats the enslaving entity Sin by publicly condemning it, breaking its dominion, and liberating humanity through union with Christ’s death and resurrection. Sin’s reign is ended “once for all” (6:10); though residual effects linger until final redemption, its tyrannical authority is decisively shattered for all who are in Christ. Grace now reigns supremely (5:21), and believers are empowered to live as freed people, no longer enslaved.
For example, the event of Satan entering Judas in Luke 22:3 and John 13:27 can be interpreted as an extreme illustration of how Sin (as a personified enslaving power in Pauline theology, particularly in Romans) operates to dominate and bondage humanity, though it’s not a direct one-to-one equivalence. Here’s a breakdown based on biblical theology:
1. The Biblical Account of Judas and SatanIn Luke 22:3 (NRSVUE), “Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was one of the twelve,” this occurs just before Judas negotiates Jesus’ betrayal for thirty pieces of silver.
In John 13:2, the devil first “put it into the heart of Judas” to betray Jesus, escalating to full entry after Judas takes the morsel (John 13:27: “Then after he had taken the morsel, Satan entered into him”).
This depicts not mere temptation but a form of demonic possession or profound influence, where Judas becomes an instrument of evil, leading to his role in the crucifixion and his eventual suicide (Matthew 27:3–5).
2. Connection to Sin as an Enslaving Power in Romans
In Romans, Paul describes Sin as a cosmic tyrant that enslaves humanity through the “passions of our flesh” (Romans 6:12–14, 16; 7:5, 14–25), exploiting human desires and leading to death. People are “sold into slavery under sin” (Romans 7:14), unable to free themselves without Christ’s intervention.
Judas’s story exemplifies this enslavement indirectly: His pre-existing sin—greed and theft (John 12:4–6, where he stole from the moneybag)—created a “foothold” for Satan (cf. Ephesians 4:27, another Pauline text: “do not give the devil an opportunity”). What began as internal sinful desires opened the door to external demonic control, illustrating how Sin’s power can culminate in total bondage.
Pauline theology links Satan to this process: In Ephesians 2:1–3 (Pseudo-Pauline), unbelievers are “dead in… trespasses and sins,” following “the prince of the power of the air” (Satan), who works through “the passions of our flesh” and “desires of the body and the mind.” Judas’s betrayal aligns with this—his sinful heart made him susceptible, showing Sin’s enslaving mechanism at work through Satanic agency.
However, Romans focuses more on Sin’s universal reign over humanity (entered through Adam, Romans 5:12) rather than individual demonic possession. Judas represents an intensified case, where Sin’s dominion manifests as direct Satanic entry, but it’s analogous to how unchecked sin leads to spiritual death for all (Romans 6:23).
3. Judas was not a helpless victim; he voluntarily yielded to his sins, granting Satan access. This preserves human accountability—much like in Romans 1:18–32, where people “suppress the truth” and are “given over” to their passions as judgment.
Theologically, this serves as a warning: Sin doesn’t just lead to isolated acts but can escalate to full enslavement, potentially involving demonic forces (as in 2 Corinthians 4:4, where Satan blinds minds). Yet, God’s sovereignty uses even such evil for redemption—the betrayal advanced the cross, defeating Sin and Satan (Colossians 2:15).
Judas’s possession by Satan vividly demonstrates Sin’s enslaving dynamic in Pauline terms: Sin exploits human desires, creates vulnerability to evil powers, and leads to destruction unless broken by Christ’s cross (Romans 6:6–7). It’s a cautionary extreme, not the norm for how Sin operates in everyday life.
There are several biblical examples across the Old and New Testaments that illustrate the principle in Ephesians 4:27 (NRSVUE: “and do not give the devil an opportunity”), where unchecked sin, emotions, or behaviors create a “foothold” (or “place,” as in some translations) for evil influences like Satan or demonic forces to gain influence, leading to further destruction or temptation. These are not always explicit possessions but show how sin opens doors. I’ll categorize them for clarity, drawing from scriptural narratives and related verses.
Old Testament Examples
Cain’s Anger and Jealousy (Genesis 4:3–8): God warns Cain that if he does not do well, “sin is lurking at the door; its desire is for you, but you must master it” (4:7). Cain’s unresolved anger toward Abel gives sin an opportunity, leading to murder. This personifies sin as an opportunistic force waiting to pounce, akin to giving the devil a foothold through bitterness.
Adam and Eve’s Disobedience (Genesis 3:1–6): The serpent (identified as Satan in Revelation 12:9) exploits their doubt and desire, leading them to eat the forbidden fruit. Their willingness to question God’s command provides an entry point for deception, resulting in sin entering the world and humanity’s fall.
Achan’s Covetousness (Joshua 7:1, 20–26): Achan steals devoted items during the conquest of Jericho, hiding them. This secret sin creates a vulnerability for Israel, leading to military defeat at Ai. It’s an example of how individual greed gives evil an opportunity to bring collective judgment and loss.
King Saul’s Disobedience and Jealousy (1 Samuel 15:22–23; 16:14; 18:8–12): Saul’s rebellion against God’s commands (like sparing Amalekite spoils) leads to the Spirit of the Lord departing, and “an evil spirit from the Lord tormented him” (16:14). His ongoing jealousy of David amplifies this, showing how unrepented sin allows demonic torment a foothold.
David’s Pride in the Census (1 Chronicles 21:1–7; 2 Samuel 24:1–4): “Satan stood up against Israel, and incited David to count Israel” (1 Chron. 21:1). David’s reliance on military strength (pride) instead of God provides an opportunity for Satan to provoke a sinful act, resulting in plague and judgment.
New Testament Examples
Judas’s Greed (John 12:4–6; 13:2, 27; Luke 22:3): As discussed previously, Judas’s habitual theft from the moneybag creates a vulnerability. The devil first “put it into the heart of Judas” (John 13:2) to betray Jesus, then fully “entered into him” (13:27; Luke 22:3). Unchecked covetousness gives Satan direct access.
Ananias and Sapphira’s Deceit (Acts 5:1–11): Peter asks Ananias, “Why has Satan filled your heart to lie to the Holy Spirit?” (5:3). Their greed and hypocrisy in withholding money while pretending generosity allow Satan to exploit them, leading to sudden death. This shows lying as a foothold for demonic influence.
Simon’s Bitterness and Wrong Motives (Acts 8:18–23): Simon the sorcerer offers money for the apostles’ power, prompting Peter to say, “You are trapped in the gall of bitterness and the chains of wickedness” (8:23). His unrepented desire for personal gain (simony) creates an opportunity for iniquity, echoing how bitterness defiles (Hebrews 12:15).
Peter’s Misguided Rebuke (Matthew 16:21–23; Mark 8:31–33): When Peter rebukes Jesus for predicting his death, Jesus responds, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things” (Matt. 16:23). Peter’s pride or human perspective momentarily gives Satan a voice through him, illustrating how worldly thinking provides an opening.
Unforgiveness in the Church (2 Corinthians 2:5–11): Paul urges forgiveness for a repentant offender “so that we may not be outwitted by Satan; for we are not ignorant of his designs” (2:11). Holding onto grudges or refusing to forgive creates a scheme for Satan to divide and destroy relationships.
Marital Abstinence Without Self-Control (1 Corinthians 7:5): Paul advises couples not to deprive each other sexually “except perhaps by agreement for a set time… then come together again, so that Satan may not tempt you because of your lack of self-control.” Prolonged separation risks giving Satan an opportunity through unmet desires.
Demon Possession and Vulnerability (e.g., Mark 5:1–5; Matthew 17:14–18): The Gerasene demoniac “would cry out and cut himself with stones” (Mark 5:5), and a boy’s seizures cause him to fall into fire or water (Matt. 17:15). While the entry point isn’t always specified, these imply underlying vulnerabilities (possibly sin or spiritual openness) that allow demons a stronghold, which Jesus expels.
These examples emphasize that the “opportunity” often stems from sins like anger, greed, pride, bitterness, unforgiveness, or disobedience, which Paul warns against in Ephesians 4. The remedy, as in related verses, is resistance through submission to God (James 4:7), prayer (Matthew 26:41), and vigilance (1 Peter 5:8). Not every case is demonic possession; many show subtler influences leading to downfall.
This idea of the awakening and expansion of one’s moral compass in response to one’s terrible behavior as a result of demonic possession is an interesting facet of ancient belief. The demonic possession is overcome by the inner light of the person. For example, a lot of work has been done on seeing the influence of Euripides’ Bacchae on the Jesus story, especially Acts and the Gospel of John. In this tragedy by Euripides, the god Dionysus (also called Bacchus) induces a frenzied possession in the women of Thebes, including Agave (mother of King Pentheus), as punishment for denying his divinity. The women, known as Maenads or Bacchae, roam the mountains in ecstatic madness, performing superhuman acts like tearing animals apart with their bare hands.
Dionysus lures Pentheus to spy on the rituals, then reveals him to the possessed women.
Agave, in her frenzy, mistakes her son Pentheus for a wild lion and leads the Maenads in dismembering him alive (a ritual act called sparagmos).
Agave returns to Thebes triumphantly carrying Pentheus’ severed head, still under the spell and believing it to be a trophy from the hunt.
Her father, Cadmus, confronts her and guides her through a dialogue to recognize the head as her son’s. As she gradually realizes the horrific harm she’s caused—killing her own child—the frenzy fades, and the possession breaks. She’s left in devastated horror, leading to her exile.
This is a clear case where external prompting leads to self-realization of the harm, which in turn dispels the divine madness. The play emphasizes themes of hubris and the dangers of resisting the gods, with Agave’s awakening serving as a tragic climax. The scandal of the cross and the world turning on God’s especially beloved Jesus is meant to awaken something in us and break the spell of Sin.


