I do not break up the clauses which follow. I group them 
    as one prolonged strain, and call it "The Song of Victory, or Song of 
    Redemption." For it is a Song unique in itself, complete, 
    all-comprehensive--an anthem as of a multitude of the Heavenly host over the 
    night-plains, not of Bethlehem, but of the world, praising God and saying--
    (V. 3, 4.) "For what the law could not do, in that it 
    was weak through the flesh, God sending His own Son in the likeness of 
    sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh; that the 
    righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the 
    flesh, but after the Spirit."
    
    [Let no Reader (may I here premise in a word), be 
    repelled by the somewhat doctrinal tone of this and the earlier chapters. We 
    must enter by the outer courts before reaching the innermost shrine. The 
    foundations must be laid before the crowning super-structure be reared.]
    The theme of this portion of the SONG, epitomized, is 
    this. The demands of the law, in themselves impossible of fulfillment, have 
    been satisfied through the atoning work of Christ; and those alone can take 
    up the triumphal notes continued to the end of the chapter, who have thus 
    absolutely renounced all legal ground of justification in the sight of God, 
    and have accepted the gratuitous offers of pardon provided by the Divine 
    Surety--"Christ the end of the law for righteousness to every one that 
    believes."
    The first clause of these verses--the first strain of 
    this opening Redemption-Hymn is "The law of the Spirit of life in Christ 
    Jesus."
    
    What are we to understand by this? It may have other 
    latent side-meanings, but we may take it, in its simplest acceptation, as an 
    equivalent term for the Gospel method of salvation; forgiveness, peace, 
    eternal life, as the gift of God through Jesus Christ. It is the glorious 
    provision of the Life-giver--"In Him was life;"--Him--alike the Author of 
    Redemption and the Bestower of the new principle of life in the heart of the 
    believer.
    The remaining assertion of the verse is in contrast, or 
    contradistinction--"Has made me free from the law of sin and death." 
    It speaks of the old decalogue of Sinai with its rigid, inflexible demand, 
    "Do this and live." The two statements are brought together elsewhere in the 
    concise epigrammatic sentence--"The letter kills, but the Spirit gives 
    life."
    Then follows (verse 3) a remarkable epitome of the 
    Redemption-work; "What the law could not do, in that it was weak through 
    the flesh." "Weak." There was no weakness, no inherent defect or 
    feebleness in the law itself. As the expression of the mind and will of the 
    Great Lawgiver, it resembled one of the pillars of the ancient Temple ("Jachin")--STRENGTH. 
    It had the Divine Holiness and Justice, Omnipotence and Immutability to rest 
    upon. But its high, uncompromising demands were beyond the perfect obedience 
    of the fallen creature. This alone constituted its "weakness." In its own 
    majestic requirements it was potent. As a ground of human merit and a 
    procuring cause of salvation, it was impotent. Amid the thunders and 
    lightnings of the Mount comes the dread deliverance from which there is no 
    escape or appeal--"by the deeds of the law, shall no flesh be justified." 
    Moreover, let it be noted, in connection with the present argument of the 
    Apostle, that this impossibility extended beyond what (to use a forensic 
    term) I may call the major count of the indictment. There was the great 
    outstanding fact of original sin--the human nature fallen and under 
    condemnation; the depravity and corruption of the heart. That heart and its 
    experience we have found faithfully portrayed--photographed--in the 
    immediately preceding chapter. The holiness and sanctification of the 
    believer even at the best are an unrealized and unrealizable ideal--no more. 
    The most saintly image comes out blurred--the fight--the life-long encounter 
    between the lower and the higher nature, as we have also seen, leaves behind 
    the inevitable scars of battle. "For in me," says this noblest of spiritual 
    combatants, "that is, in my flesh, [my weak flesh] dwells no good 
    thing." He feels, that while one moment he may be the soaring eagle, the 
    next he may be the groveling worm. Paul may in this be thought to take a 
    pessimistic view of human nature generally. Yet who that knows his own heart 
    and life experience can demur to the stern reality?
    Here then, in this opening proposition, he reasserts what 
    had been logically expanded in the previous lengthened context, the 
    powerlessness and inefficacy, alike on the ground of nature and practice, of 
    the law to give "LIFE."
    He proceeds to unfold the great remedial measure of God's 
    own sovereign devising--"God sent His Own Son in the likeness of sinful 
    flesh."
    
    We have spoken of the "Weakness;" now comes the 
    contrasted "Strength;" "Christ the power of God unto salvation to 
    every one that believes." A law, powerless either to justify or to sanctify, 
    becomes both in Him. As the Apostle elsewhere with singular force and 
    brevity, yet fullness, expresses it--"For if there had been a law given 
    which could have given life, verily righteousness would have been by the 
    law. But the scripture has concluded all under sin, that the promise by 
    faith of Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe" (Gal. 3;21, 22). 
    "GOD sending." The purpose of Love was His own--one undreamt of by 
    human reason; beyond the conception and device either of man or of Angel.
    And there is a farther notable emphasis in the appended 
    word. "The stress," says Dean Alford, "is on 'His own,' and the word 
    is pregnant with meaning." His own Son, spotless in His holiness; in Nature 
    and Person immaculate as the law whose debts He came to discharge and its 
    precepts to fulfill. This sinless Son is in marked antithesis to "the 
    sinful flesh" in whose likeness He came. "Likeness;" for 
    though in all respects tempted and tried as the Brother in our nature, it 
    was "yet without sin." One single spot or stain in the Incarnate humanity 
    would have vitiated the efficacy of His atonement. But He was "holy, 
    harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners." He could make the 
    unanswerable challenge to His adversaries--"Which of you convinces me of 
    sin?"
    
    "And for sin" (marg., "by a sacrifice for sin;" R.V., 
    "as an offering for sin") "condemned sin in the flesh."
    
    Much of the true meaning of this important clause must be 
    determined by what is implied in the word "condemned." It seems to us 
    capable of but one interpretation--the vicarious sufferings and death of 
    the Son of God for us men and for our salvation. In case of any verbal 
    misapprehension, we reject the harsh and unwarrantable rendering given by an 
    otherwise admirable commentator (Haldane), when he ventures to 
    translate it by the term "punished." We cannot for a moment accept the word, 
    if in the remotest form it suggests or embodies the thought of the loving 
    Father of heaven punishing "the Son in whom He declares Himself well 
    pleased." Such be it said at once would be altogether unworthy, abhorrent, 
    blasphemous; distinctly at variance, it may, moreover, well be added, with 
    the creed of so distinguished and reliable a student of Scripture. 
    And yet we dare not eliminate the implied truth of an 
    Expiatory Offering.
    
    Another commentator to whom the Church of Christ owes 
    much (Barnes), suggests an alternative rendering, probably the 
    nearest to the truth, while evading the objectionable punitive term--"God 
    passed a judicial sentence on sin in the person of Christ." He condemned 
    sin in the flesh, that is, in His own assumed, human, fleshly nature, 
    Incarnate God.
    Should we retain the accepted rendering in both 
    Authorised and Revised Versions ("condemned"), there may possibly be implied 
    another antithesis between this and the word of the first verse, for they 
    are in the Greek the same, "condemnation." There is condemnation by 
    the law. There is no condemnation by the substitution of the 
    immaculate Redeemer.
    Then comes the grand result (v. 4). "That the 
    righteousness" (or, marginal, requirements) "of the law" (that 
    which the law demands) "might be fulfilled in us;" fulfilled by the 
    meritorious life and death of the Son of God, and through our mystical union 
    with Him.
    Reader, are you and I able to accept, and accepting to 
    repose on this great truth, what the old Divines call "THE SATISFACTION." We 
    know how in modern days it is a doctrine slighted and discredited. In the 
    language of Reuss, who may be taken as a leader in the so-called "advanced 
    school," "there is not a word of all this weighing and calculating scheme to 
    be found in the writings of Paul." While refusing to accept the German's 
    depreciatory definition of our Apostle's "systematic theology," I conclude 
    far otherwise. I feel I must reject the teachings of this Epistle and of all 
    his other Epistles--as well as the teachings of his inspired contemporaries; 
    I must reject my Bible itself, before I can repudiate so cardinal an article 
    of the faith. That there is mystery, profound mystery, in this dogma of 
    Divine Substitution and Suretyship none can deny. But I would ask those who 
    discard it, calmly to read without cavil or prejudice the following among 
    many assertions (not by any means exclusively Pauline)--and say if their 
    plain, unambiguous meaning can be evaded?
    To begin with Christ's own testimony, "The Son of Man 
    came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a 
    ransom for many" (Matt. 20;28). Omitting for the present the prophetical 
    writings, His Apostles and other inspired penmen repeat and rehearse the 
    assertions of their Lord. "He has made Him to be sin for us who knew 
    no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him" (2 Cor. 
    5;21). "Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse
    for us" (Gal, 3;13). "Christ was once offered to bear the sins of 
    many" (Heb. 9;28). "He Himself bore our sins in His own body on 
    the tree" (1 Pet. 2;24). "Who loved me and gave Himself for me" (Gal. 
    2;20). "Christ also once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, 
    that He might bring us to God" (1 Pet. 3;18). "It became Him" (that word 
    "became" is solemnly emphatic; there was a necessity laid on God, arising 
    out of His own nature--than which we can conceive no stronger necessity) "of 
    whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto 
    glory, to make the Captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings"
    (Heb. 2;10). "To Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in 
    His own blood" (Rev. 1;5). 
    You may strive, by a forced exegesis, to get rid of the 
    meaning wrapped up in these and kindred passages on the Suretyship of 
    Christ; but a literal acceptance can alone give explanation and consistency 
    to the reasoning of the Apostle in this verse on which we are now 
    meditating. God, in the Person, and work, and atoning death of His dear Son, 
    has thrown the luster of a glorious vindication around every requirement of 
    His law and every attribute of His nature. Christ, by a holy life, obeyed 
    the law's precepts, and by a holy death of self-surrender and sacrifice 
    endured its penalty. The law says, "Do this and live." I cannot do it. But I 
    listen to the words of Him who can do it--who has done it. 
    "Lo, I come, I delight to do Your will, O my God" (Ps. 40;7, 8). "When the 
    fullness of the time was come, God sent forth His Son, made of a woman, made 
    under the law, to redeem those who were under the law" (Gal. 5;4).
    O blessed Savior, I desire with simple unwavering faith 
    to look to You thus--to You only--wholly, and forever. I desire to behold 
    You as the great Antitype of the Jewish Scapegoat, bearing away the load of 
    transgression into a land of oblivion and forgetfulness, so that "as far as 
    the East is distant from the West," so far have You "removed our 
    transgressions from us." I look to You, indeed, also in the beauty of Your 
    Character and Work, as the perfect Example, the great Ideal of Humanity. In 
    this acceptation of the word, I know that You did oppose and overcome the 
    forces of evil. I know in a similar manner, too, You may be said to have 
    "condemned sin in the flesh;" overcome it, and conquered it in Your own 
    pure, stainless human nature. You could say in a real, what our Apostle 
    could only utter in a qualified sense, "I have fought the good fight; 
    I have vanquished, and thereby have I given a pledge of sin's final 
    subjugation." But this is not all I need. I must look to You as the Atoning 
    Sacrifice--the Sin-offering. "O Lamb of God, who takes away the 
    sin of the world, have mercy upon us!" "O Lamb of God, that 
    takes away the sin of the world, grant us Your peace!" I shall not go to 
    the Temple without the Altar, or to the Altar without the Sacrifice. Thanks 
    be to the dying, ever living love of the divine Surety, if I am enabled with 
    the heavenly harpers spoken of in Revelation (5;8, 9) to "sing the new 
    song"--the Song whose strains gave them their golden harps and golden vials 
    and crowns of victory--"You were slain, and have redeemed us to God
    by Your blood out of every kindred and tongue and people and nation!"
    I close with one verse from an earlier chapter of this 
    same Epistle. It has been purposely kept by itself and to the last. It is 
    culled from the midst of Paul's cogent argument. But it seems to express, in 
    a brief sentence, the peerless truth on which we have now been dwelling. 
    Olshausen, by a metaphor not less truthful than happy, calls it "The 
    Acropolis of the Christian faith," "Whom God has set forth to be a 
    Propitiation through faith in His blood, to declare His righteousness for 
    the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God" (Rom. 
    3;25).
    
    Propitiation (margin, RV., "Propitiatory"). The 
    reference, as is well known, is to the lid of the Ark of the Covenant, in 
    the Tabernacle or Temple--the Mercy-Seat. The tables of the law, the two 
    tables of stone were deposited within that Sacred Ark--the eternal decalogue 
    with its unrepealed, unabrogated demands, and solemn requirements. It spoke 
    condemnation--"The soul that sins, it shall die." But the blood besprinkled 
    "Shield" resplendent with gold and fragrant with acacia wood (significant 
    type and emblem of the divine Surety), interposed between it and the 
    officiating High Priest--the Representative of Covenant Israel in all ages. 
    Christ--the true "Propitiatory" stands between the living and the dead, that 
    the great plague of sin might be stayed. Or, to give a different 
    illustration, we recall the host of Assyrian warriors in ancient Jewish 
    story, "their cohorts gleaming with purple and gold"--their banners 
    "floating proudly at sunset"--
    "Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn has blown, 
    That host of the morrow lay withered and strewn;
    For the Angel of death spread his wings on the blast, 
    And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed."
    Each hand grasped a sword, but was impotent to wield it. 
    Even so; the law retains, in all their force, the deadly weapons of 
    condemnation. But a mightier than created Angel has come down and paralyzed 
    its arm--"stilled the enemy and the avenger." The sharp, keen-edged swords 
    slumber powerless in their scabbards. "Thanks be to God, who gives us the 
    victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."
    These remarks ought appropriately to close this section. 
    But one practical thought dare not be omitted--one note is needed for the 
    full cadence and harmony of this Redemption-Song. If the law is impotent to 
    save--if its claims have to be fulfilled and its penalties borne by Another, 
    are we to disregard it as a rule of life?
    This is answered in the closing saying of the passage. It 
    is a brief but necessary restatement of the Apostle's preceding and fully 
    discussed question; "Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound?" 
    "Who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit" (v. 4). We cannot 
    enter on the wide subject here. It will come in course, and be amplified in 
    next chapter. Enough to say, that the love of God, in the gift of His Son, 
    has, as its result, in the case of the believer, the imparting of a new life 
    of love. To quote the words of a Brother Apostle (1 John 4;9)--"In this was 
    manifested the love of God toward us, because God sent His only Begotten Son 
    into the world, that we might live through Him." Or Paul's own equally 
    cogent saying (Rom. 6;18)--"Being then made free from sin, you become the 
    servants of righteousness." (Ver. 22)--"But now being made free from sin, 
    and become servants to God, you have your fruit unto holiness, and the end 
    everlasting life." The Gospel message of free pardon through the merits and 
    righteousness of Christ, acts as a dominating influence--a new pervading 
    principle of action, permeating and energizing the whole being. The hospices 
    which crowd the pilgrim way lead up to the pure and serene atmosphere of the 
    everlasting hills. The Temple-stairs, not of the Law but of Grace, conduct 
    to the Holy of Holies. A stray note from the Savior's greatest "Song of 
    Songs"--His own Beatitude-chapter, is on the lips of every worshiper, 
    "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."