Indwelling Sin in Believers

1. Indwelling Sin in Believers

Our subject is indwelling sin, that is, the remainders of sin still present in people after their conversion to God, along with its power, effects, and workings. This is also the great concern of the apostle in chapter 7 of his Epistle to the Romans, where he sets out to demonstrate the same thing. There are many disputes about the apostle’s main purpose in that chapter, and about whose condition he describes there, whether a person under the law or under grace. I will not enter into that debate now. Instead I will take as established what can be proved beyond real dispute: that Paul is describing the condition of a regenerate person with respect to the remaining power of indwelling sin, and that he presents this through his own experience. His discussion there will lay the foundation for what I have to say on this subject. I will not attempt a full exposition of his teaching in its own order, but will simply draw on what he says as occasion requires.

We begin with what he affirms in verse 21: “I find then a law, that when I would do good, evil is present with me” (Rom 7:21).

There are four things worth observing in these words.

First, the name he gives to indwelling sin, which expresses its power and effect: he calls it a law. What he calls a law in this verse he had just called, in the verse before, “sin that dwelleth in him.”

Second, the way he came to discover this law, not in the abstract or in its own nature, but in himself: he found it. “I find a law.”

Third, the state of his soul and inward self alongside this law of sin, even once discovered: “he would do good.”

Fourth, the activity of this law when the soul is in that frame, wanting to do good: “it is present with him.” I will explain the purpose of this later.

1. Sin as an Inward Law

The first thing to observe is the apostle’s choice of words. He calls indwelling sin a law.

A law may be understood properly, as a directive rule, or, less strictly, as an operative, effective principle that behaves with the force of a law. In the first sense, a law is a moral rule that directs, commands, and in various ways moves and governs the mind and will regarding what it requires or forbids. This is plainly the general nature and function of law: it commands some things and forbids others, backed by rewards and penalties that press people to do the one and avoid the other.

From this comes a secondary sense, in which an inward principle that constantly inclines someone toward certain actions is itself called a law. The principle inherent in the nature of anything, driving it toward its own end and rest, is called the law of nature. In this sense, any inward principle that presses toward actions suited to itself is a law. So in Romans 8:2, the powerful working of the Spirit and grace of Christ in believers’ hearts is called the “law of the Spirit of life.” For the same reason, the apostle here calls indwelling sin a law. It is a powerful, effective indwelling principle, pressing constantly toward actions that suit its own nature. That is exactly what Paul means by this expression.

The term law can sometimes mean a state or condition. If that were the sense here, the words would mean, “I find that this is my condition, this is how things stand with me: when I would do good, evil is present with me,” which would not much change the main point. But properly speaking, the term here can only denote the chief subject under discussion. Though Paul uses the word law in various senses in this chapter, when it relates to sin he never applies it to describe the person’s condition, but always to express either the nature or the power of sin itself.

So in verse 23: “I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members” (Rom 7:23). What he there calls “the law of his mind,” named for its principal subject and seat, is nothing other than the “law of the Spirit of life which is in Christ Jesus” (Rom 8:2), that is, the effective power of the Spirit of grace, as already noted. But law as applied to sin carries a double sense. In the first place, “I see a law in my members” denotes the being and nature of sin; in the latter, “Leading into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members,” it signifies its power and effect. Both senses are combined in the single use of the term in verse 21.

What we should draw from this term law, applied to sin, is that there is tremendous efficacy and power in the remaining indwelling sin of believers, constantly working toward evil.

This holds true in believers: it is a law even in them, though not ruling over them. Though its rule is broken, its strength weakened, its root mortified, it remains a law of great force and effect. It is most powerful where it is least felt. Carnal people, in matters of spiritual and moral duty, are nothing but this law in action; they do nothing except from it and by it. In them it is a ruling, dominant principle behind all moral actions that have any bearing on a supernatural and eternal end. I will not focus on where this law has the most power, but on where its power is most clearly recognized and felt, that is, in believers. I will refer to unbelievers only to further confirm and illustrate the point.

2. Discovering Sin Through Experience

The apostle also sets out how he came to discover this law in himself: “I find then,” or “therefore, a law.” He found it. He had already been told there was such a law; it had been preached to him, and this convinced him intellectually that a law of sin existed. But knowing in general that there is a law of sin is one thing; experiencing the power of this law within oneself is another. The doctrine is preached to everyone, and everyone who accepts Scripture acknowledges it as taught there. Yet few actually know it in themselves, or we would hear far more complaints about it, see more struggle against it, and see less of its fruit in the world.

But this is exactly what Paul affirms: not merely that the doctrine had been preached to him, but that he found it by experience in himself. “I find a law,” meaning, I have experienced its power and effect for myself. To find out one’s own sickness, and the danger that follows from it, by its actual effects is a very different thing from hearing a lecture about a disease and its causes. And this experience is the great preservative of all divine truths in the soul. To know a thing indeed, in reality, for ourselves, is to find in ourselves what we have been taught from the word.

From this we observe: believers experience the power and efficacy of indwelling sin for themselves. They find it in themselves; they find it functioning as a law. It carries its own self-evidencing force to those who are spiritually alive enough to perceive it; those who do not feel its power are still under its dominion. Whoever struggles against it will discover and feel how present and powerful it is. Anyone who swims against a strong current will feel its strength, while someone carried along by it feels nothing at all.

3. The Believer’s Will to Do Good

The general condition of believers, despite this indwelling law of sin, is also described here: “they would do good.” This law is present “when I would do good.” The habitual inclination of their will is toward good. This law within them is not a law over them, as it is for unbelievers. They are not wholly subject to its power, nor bound to obey its commands. Grace holds sovereignty in their souls, and this gives them a will inclined to what is good, consistently and constantly. In 1 John 3:9, poiein hamartian, “to commit sin,” means making a trade of sin, treating sin as one’s business; and so it is said that a believer “doth not commit sin.” Likewise, poiein to kalon means “to do that which is good.” To will to do so means having the habitual bent and inclination of the will set upon what is morally and spiritually good, which is the proper subject we are examining. This gives us our third observation.

There is, and by grace is kept up in believers, a constant and ordinarily prevailing will to do good, notwithstanding the power and efficacy of indwelling sin working against it.

This, in their worst condition, distinguishes them from unbelievers in their best. In unbelievers, the will is under the power of the law of sin. Whatever opposition they make to sin, in its root or its branches, comes from their light and conscience; the will to sin is never taken from them. Set aside all other considerations and hindrances (which we will discuss later), and they would sin willingly, always. Their faint efforts to answer their own convictions fall far short of a will to do good. They will claim they would leave their sins if they could, and would gladly do better than they do. But what they describe is simply the working of their light and convictions, not any spiritual inclination of the will.

For where there is a will to do good, there is a choosing of good for the sake of its own excellency, because it is desirable and suited to the soul, and therefore to be preferred above its opposite. This is not found in any unbeliever. They do not, and cannot, choose what is spiritually good in this way, since nothing in them finds it excellent or suitable. At most they have some desire to reach the end to which good leads, and to avoid the evil that follows from neglecting it. And even these desires are, in most people, so weak and languid that they produce no serious effort at all, as we see in the luxury, sloth, worldliness, and complacency in which the majority of people are drowned.

But in believers there is a will to do good, a habitual disposition and inclination of the will toward what is spiritually good. And where this is present, it is accompanied by matching effects. The will is the principle behind our moral actions, so the general course of our actions follows the prevailing disposition of the will. Good things come from the good treasure of the heart. This disposition cannot be proven present in anyone except by its fruits. A will to do good without doing good is only pretended.

4. Sin’s Opposition During Duty

There is yet another element in these words of the apostle, arising from how the presence of sin relates to the time and season of duty: “when I would do good,” he says, “evil is present with me.”

Two things must be considered regarding the will to do good that is in believers.

1. There is its habitual residence in them. They always have a habitual inclination of will toward what is good. This habitual readiness for good is constantly present with them, as the apostle expresses it in verse 18 of this chapter (Rom 7:18).

2. There are specific times and seasons for that principle to be exercised. “When I would do good” points to a season in which this or that particular good, this or that duty, is to be performed, matching the habitual readiness and inclination of the will.

Two things in indwelling sin oppose these two realities. Against the gracious principle residing in the will, inclining it to what is spiritually good, sin is opposed as a law, a contrary principle inclining toward evil and turning away from good. Against the second, the actual willing of this or that particular good, “when I would do good,” stands the presence of this law: “evil is present with me,” that is, evil is at hand and ready to oppose the actual accomplishment of the good aimed at. This gives us our fourth observation.

Indwelling sin is effectively active in rebelling and inclining toward evil when the will to do good is active in a particular instance and inclined toward obedience.

This describes the person who is both a believer and a sinner, as everyone who is the former is also the latter. These are the contrary principles and contrary actions at work in such a person: on one hand, a will to do good arising from grace; on the other, a law of sin. Their opposing actions are captured in the words, “when I would do good, evil is present with me.” Paul expresses both more fully in Galatians 5:17: “For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh, and these are contrary the one to the other; so that I cannot do the things that I would.”

Here lie the springs of the whole course of our obedience. Acquaintance with these several principles and how they act is a chief part of our wisdom. Next to the free grace of God in our justification by the blood of Christ, these are, in effect, the only matters in which God’s glory and the good of our own souls are bound up. They are the springs of our holiness and our sins, our joys and our troubles, our comforts and our sorrows. It is therefore of the greatest concern that we come to know these things thoroughly, if we intend to walk with God or glorify him in this world.

This also shows us what wisdom is required to guide and govern our hearts and lives before God. When the subjects of a ruler are divided and at odds with one another, unless great wisdom governs the whole state, everything will quickly collapse into ruin. These contrary principles exist in the hearts of believers, and unless they labor to grow spiritually wise, how will they steer their course rightly?

Many people live their whole lives in the dark about themselves. Whatever else they know, they do not know themselves. They know their outward circumstances, how wealthy they are, and they take care to examine the state of their bodies, whether healthy or sick. But of their inner life and the principles at work in them concerning God and eternity, they know little or nothing about themselves. Few labor to grow wise in this matter, few study themselves as they should, few come to know the evil of their own hearts as they ought, though the whole course of their obedience, and so their eternal condition, depends on it. This, then, is our wisdom, and a necessary one, if we mean to please God or avoid what provokes the eyes of his glory.

We will also find, as we pursue this inquiry, how much diligence and watchfulness a Christian life requires. There is a constant enemy to it within every person’s own heart, and we will later show just what kind of enemy it is, for that is our aim: to expose him fully. In the meantime, we may well lament the miserable sloth and negligence found in most people, even among professing believers. They live and walk as if they meant to reach heaven blindfolded and asleep, as though they had no enemy to face. Their mistake and folly will be fully exposed as we proceed.

What I want to fix on chiefly, for our present purpose, from this passage of the apostle, is what was laid down at the start: that there is an extraordinary efficacy and power in the remainder of indwelling sin in believers, with a constant inclination and drive toward evil.

Awake, then, all of you who have anything of the ways of God in your hearts. Your enemy is not only upon you, as he was upon Samson of old, but is within you as well. He works by every means of force and craft, as we will see. If you would not dishonor God and his gospel; if you would not bring scandal on the saints and the ways of God; if you would not wound your conscience and endanger your soul; if you would not grieve the good and holy Spirit of God, the author of all your comforts; if you would keep your garments undefiled and escape the miserable temptations and corruptions of the days we live in; if you would be kept from joining the number of apostates in these latter days, then awake to consider this cursed enemy, the spring of all these and countless other evils, and of the ruin of every soul that perishes in this world.

2. Indwelling Sin as a Law

That which we have proposed for consideration is the power and efficacy of indwelling sin. There are many ways to demonstrate it. I shall begin with the name given to it in the passage already mentioned: it is a law. “I find a law,” says the apostle. It is called a law because of its power and efficacy, just as the principle of grace in believers is called the “law of the Spirit of life,” as we observed before (Rom 8:2), which is the “exceeding greatness of the power of God” in them (Eph 1:19). Where there is a law, there is power.

So we will show both what belongs to it as a law in general, and what is particular to it as this specific kind of law.

There are, in general, two things that attend every law as such.

First, dominion. “The law hath dominion over a man whilst he liveth” (Rom 7:1); it lords it over him. Wherever a law takes hold, it has dominion. This is properly the act of a superior; it belongs to the nature of law to demand obedience by way of dominion. Now there is a twofold dominion, corresponding to a twofold law. There is a moral, authoritative dominion over a man, and there is a real, effective dominion within a man. The first belongs to the law of God, the second to the law of sin.

The law of sin does not have a moral dominion in itself; it has no rightful authority over anyone. But it has something equivalent to it, which is why Scripture speaks of it as reigning like a king (Rom 6:12) and lording it over a man, having dominion (Rom 6:14), just as a law in general is said to have dominion (Rom 7:1).

But because it has lost its complete dominion over believers, who alone are in view here, I will not press its power to that utmost extent. Yet even in believers it remains a law, though not a law over them, it is still a law in them. And though it no longer has complete and, as it were, rightful dominion over them, it still exercises dominion in some matters. It is still a law, and being in them, all its actions are the actions of a law: it acts with power, even though it has lost the fullness of its former rule. Though weakened, its nature has not changed. It is still a law, and therefore still powerful. Its particular workings, which we will consider later, are the ground for this name, and the term itself teaches us in general what to expect from it, and what efforts it will make toward the dominion it once had.

Second, a law, as a law, has power to urge those who are subject to it toward the things it requires. A law carries rewards and punishments with it. These quietly work on those to whom they are held out, even when the things commanded are not especially desirable. Generally, all laws gain their hold on people’s minds through the rewards and punishments attached to them. This law is no exception; it too has its rewards and punishments.

The pleasures of sin are the rewards of sin, rewards for which most people lose their souls. By this means the law of sin contended against the law of grace in Moses: “he chose rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; for he looked unto the recompense of reward” (Heb 11:25–26). The contest was in his mind between the law of sin and the law of grace. The bait the law of sin used to draw him over, and the bait by which it wins over most people, was the reward it offered: the immediate enjoyment of the pleasures of sin. With this it fought against the reward attached to the law of grace, called “the recompense of reward.”

With this cheap reward, sin keeps the world obedient to its commands, and experience shows how powerfully it sways people’s minds. It also threatens punishments against those who try to throw off its yoke. Whatever trouble or danger in the world attends obedience to the gospel, whatever hardship or violence must be done to our sensual nature in a strict course of mortification, sin treats all of it as punishment for neglecting its commands. By this it wins over the “fearful,” who will have no share in eternal life (Rev 21:8).

It is hard to say which does more, its pretended rewards or its pretended punishments, or where its greatest strength lies. By its rewards it entices people into sins of commission, actions aimed at satisfying its lusts. By its punishments it drives people to neglect their duties, a course leading to no less ruin than the former. Which of these gives the law of sin its greatest success in people’s souls is not clear, because the two are rarely, if ever, separated; they act on the same people together.

But this much is certain: through offers and promises of sinful pleasure on one hand, and threats of losing sensual comforts and suffering temporal harm on the other, it has tremendous power over people’s minds, often even believers’ minds. Unless a person is ready to reject the reasoning that arises from both of these, there is no standing against the power of this law. The world falls before it every day. How deceitfully and violently these pressures are brought to bear on people’s minds, and what advantages they exploit, we will explain later. Look at people generally, and you will find them entirely at sin’s disposal through these means. If the profits and pleasures of sin lie before them, nothing can keep them from reaching for them. If difficulties and hardships attend the duties of the gospel, they want nothing to do with them, and so they are wholly given over to the rule and dominion of this law.

This, in general, is what the nature of law itself reveals about the power and efficacy of indwelling sin, since sin shares in that nature.

Next we may consider what particular kind of law it is, which will further show its power. It is not an outward, written law that commands and directs from without, but an inbred law that works, impels, and drives from within. A law merely proposed to us cannot compare in force to a law bred into us. Adam had a law of sin proposed to him in his temptation, but because he had no law of sin inbred and working within him, he could have resisted it. An inbred law must be effective.

Take an example from the law that stands opposed to this law of sin. The law of God was originally inbred and natural to man. It was created together with his faculties and was their rightness, both in being and in action, in relation to his purpose of living to God and glorifying him. It therefore had special power in the whole soul, enabling full obedience, and even making that obedience easy and pleasant. Such is the power of an inbred law. And though this law, as a rule and dominion, has now by nature been cast out of the soul, the sparks that remain are still very powerful and effective, precisely because they are inbred, as the apostle declares (Rom 2:14–15).

Afterward God renewed this law and wrote it on tables of stone. But what was the effect of this law? Would it, now external and merely proposed to people, enable them to do what it required? Not at all. God knew it would not, unless it became an internal law again, unless, instead of a moral, outward rule, it became an inward, living principle. So God makes his law internal again and implants it on the heart as it was at first, when he intends to give it power to produce obedience in all his people: “I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts” (Jer 31:31–33). This is what God settles on after exposing the insufficiency of an outward law to lead people into obedience. “The written law,” he says, “will not do it; mercies and deliverances from distress will not effect it; trials and afflictions will not accomplish it.”

“Then,” says the Lord, “I will take another course: I will turn the written law into an internal, living principle in their hearts, and that will have such force as will assuredly make them my people and keep them so.” This law of sin works the same way: it is an indwelling law. Paul writes, “It is sin that dwelleth in me” (Rom 7:17), “Sin that dwelleth in me” (Rom 7:20), “It is present with me” (Rom 7:21), and “It is in my members” (Rom 7:23). Indeed, it is so deeply lodged in a person that in some sense it can be called the person himself: “I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing” (Rom 7:18). The flesh, the seat and throne of this law, indeed, this law itself, is in that sense the man himself, just as grace is the new man.

Because this law is indwelling, an inward habit inclining and moving us to sin, it gains several advantages that increase its strength and further its power.

First, it always remains in the soul; it is never absent. The apostle twice uses the phrase “It dwelleth in me.” That is its constant residence and home. If it only assailed the soul at certain seasons, we might accomplish much obedience in its absence. We might, as people do with a tyrant they mean to expel from a city, sometimes shut the gates against it so it could not return. The soul could fortify itself. But the soul is its home; there it dwells, and it never wanders elsewhere.

Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, this law of sin is always in you, in the best you do and in the worst. People rarely consider what a dangerous companion is always at home with them. In company or alone, by day or by night, it makes no difference: sin is with them. A live coal burns continually in their house, and if left unattended, it will set them ablaze and perhaps consume them. What woeful complacency grips poor souls! How little most people think about this inbred enemy that never leaves home. How rarely does even a professing believer’s watchfulness match the true danger of their condition.

Second, it is always ready to apply itself to every end and purpose it serves. Paul says it does more than merely dwell in him: “when I would do good, it is present with me.” That phrase means more than mere indwelling. A lodger may live in a house without meddling in everything the owner does (to keep with the apostle’s image of indwelling). But this law is different: it dwells in us so thoroughly that it makes itself present in everything we do. Often, when we most earnestly want to be rid of it, it thrusts itself upon us most forcefully. “When I would do good, it is present with me.”

Do you want to pray? To hear the word? To give alms? To meditate? To act in faith and love toward God in any duty? To do what is right? To resist temptation? This troublesome, ever-present lodger will insert itself more or less into all of it, so that you cannot fully and completely accomplish the good you intend, as the apostle says in Romans 7:18.

Sometimes people stir up and provoke their own lust by listening to their temptations, and it is no wonder that they then find it present and active. But it remains present even when we labor with all our strength to be free of it. This law of sin dwells in us: it clings to our minds as darkness and vanity, to our affections as sensuality, to our wills as an aversion to what is good. Through some or all of these, it constantly presses itself upon us in inclinations, impulses, or suggestions toward evil, precisely when we most want to be rid of it.

Third, because it is an indwelling law, it applies itself to its work with great ease, like “the sin that doth so easily beset us” (Heb 12:1). It needs no doors opened to it, no machinery to work by. The soul cannot engage in any human duty except by exercising the very faculties in which this law resides. Is the mind to be applied to something? There sin already sits, in ignorance, darkness, vanity, folly, and madness. Is the will to be engaged? There too it sits, in spiritual deadness, stubbornness, and rooted obstinacy. Are the heart and affections to be stirred? There it lies as well, inclined to the world and to present things, prone to sensuality and every kind of defilement.

So it easily insinuates itself into everything we do, hindering all that is good and furthering all sin and wickedness. It has an intimacy, an inwardness with the soul, and therefore besets us easily in everything we do. It occupies the very faculties of the soul by which we must act, whether for good or evil. All these advantages belong to it precisely because it is a law, an indwelling law, and this reveals its power and effectiveness. It is always resident in the soul, presses itself into all its actions, and does so with ease and facility.

This is the law the apostle says he found in himself, the title he gives to the powerful, effective remnants of indwelling sin even in believers. From this term we draw these general evidences of its power.

Many people in the world never find this law in themselves. Whatever they have been taught from Scripture, they have no spiritual sense or experience of the power of indwelling sin, because they are wholly under its dominion. They do not find darkness and folly in their minds, because they are darkness itself, and darkness discovers nothing. They do not find deadness and unresponsiveness toward God in their hearts and wills, because they are wholly dead in trespasses and sins. They are at peace with their lusts because they are in bondage to them. This is the state of most people in the world, and it leads them to despise their eternal well-being.

Why do people pursue the world with such greed, neglecting heaven, life, and immortality for it day after day? Why do some chase their sensual pleasures with delight, drinking and reveling and pursuing their amusements no matter what others say? Why do so many live so unprofitably under the word, understanding so little of what is spoken to them, practicing even less of what they understand, and refusing to be roused to answer God’s calls to them? All of this flows from this law of sin and the power by which it rules and dominates such people. But these are not the persons we are chiefly concerned with here.

From what has been said, it follows that if such a law exists in believers, it is doubtless their duty to find it out, to find that it is so.

The more they find of its power, the less they will feel its effects. It benefits no one to have a wasting illness and not recognize it, or to have a fire smoldering secretly in the house and not know it. Whatever people find of this law within themselves, they will abhor to that same degree, and abhor themselves as well, but no further. In proportion to what they find of it will be their earnestness for grace; it will rise no higher. All their watchfulness and diligence in obedience will match this discovery accordingly. The whole course of our lives turns on this hinge: finding out and experiencing the power and effectiveness of this law of sin. Ignorance of it breeds senselessness, carelessness, sloth, complacency, and pride, all of which the Lord’s soul abhors. Eruptions into great, open, scandalous sins that ruin the conscience come from failing to give this law due spiritual consideration.