A few years ago, I was trying to get back home from a trip to speak at NC State that night to about 2,000 college students. I was sitting in a plane on the runway at the Atlanta airport—where all my dreams go to die—when the captain announced that there was something wrong with our plane.
It was something minor, I remember, like the toilet not being able to flush right (yes, I consider that minor, don’t @ me), and we couldn’t take off until it was fixed. Evidently, the only tool in the galaxy that could fix it was located in Madagascar. So we were going to have to pull off to the side of the tarmac and wait for them to bring it to us.
Of course, I’m exaggerating. But only a little.
We sat on the tarmac for so long that I missed my speaking engagement altogether.
When I realized I wasn’t going to make it to NC State in time, I called up a friend of mine and asked if he could cover for me. It turns out he did a great job—people came to Christ and probably heard a better message than if I had been there.
In retrospect, it’s clear that God wanted my friend to preach at NC State that night instead of me. But here’s an interesting question: Does God’s sovereign decision to delay my plane relieve the airline’s responsibility in the debacle?
Let’s put a little more of a point on that: Should the repair guy, who was apparently taking a three-hour nap and ignoring all of his texts, suddenly declare himself some sort of hero? “That’s right, I helped people come to Jesus that night. No, no, hold your applause.”
Not exactly.
You see, it’s still reasonable to fault the airline with the delay. And if I were an executive of that airline, it would be my responsibility to ensure that simple repair processes don’t consistently take six hours.
God was sovereign, but the airline was responsible.
That’s what Paul is getting at in Romans 3. After addressing an argument from religious Jews who thought they had an advantage over the Gentiles because they were raised on religion, he takes an entire chapter to show that religion doesn’t really remedy our problem. In fact, in many ways, it makes the problem worse.
Paul starts his mock argument with a question: “So what advantage does the Jew have? Or what is the benefit of circumcision?” (Romans 3:1 CSB) Or, does religion have any value?
He answers that the advantage is “considerable in every way. First, they were entrusted with the very words of God” (v. 2).
God himself inspired these stories word for word—but their purpose was to point Israel to their need for Jesus, not equip them with some strategy or technique that would remove their need for him. All the things that God gave—the stories, the rituals—were not designed to give us something to master that would earn our place before God. They were designed to bring us to the place where we would cry out to God, “I have no hope of ever being restored to you apart from your grace.”
The rituals should not drive us up with pride but down with humility. God’s revelation doesn’t lead us to be impressed with our accomplishments but overwhelmed with our need.
“But,” Paul imagines the Jewish religious person saying, “if the law was supposed to lead us to Jesus, hasn’t God failed since, you know, so many Jews haven’t believed the gospel?”
Absolutely not, Paul says in verse 4. Even though Israel in large part failed to believe, God still kept his promise to bring salvation. In fact, God turned Israel’s unbelief into an opportunity for Gentile salvation. He took Israel’s faithlessness (v. 3) and used it as a way to show even greater faithfulness on his part.
This is where the airline comes in.
“Well then,” they say (v. 5), “if Israel’s rebellion led to Gentile salvation, and that was all part of God’s plan, how can God still be mad at the Jews? Didn’t they just play their part?”
Didn’t the flight delay lead to God’s greater plan?
Paul’s answer in verses 6 and 7 is basically, “That’s a stupid objection.” Does God use human choices—even sinful ones—to accomplish his plans? Absolutely. But it’s warped to conclude that our unbelief and rebellion are, therefore, something to boast about to God.
How God’s sovereignty works through human choices is one of the greatest mysteries out there. But this much is certain: God holds us each accountable for our own choices.
God is sovereign, but we are responsible.
