No One Is Exempt: Romans 13:1–7 in Context

Part 2: Romans 13:1–7 Verse by Verse

If, as I have claimed in my previous post, Romans 13:1–7 is not an exposition of the purpose of government, what is it?

As previously stated, Paul’s main purpose in writing the epistle to the Romans is to explain what salvation in Christ entails: why it is needed (universal, irremediable sin), how it is accomplished (Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection and God’s calling), and how those whom God has saved are to live as a result. He was most likely writing to a sizable group of people who had come to the attention of the ruling powers in Rome, so he would have kept in mind that his words would find their way to the rulers; he needed to be sure to avoid the exousiai misunderstanding his words and bringing misguided persecution on his readers. (He acknowledges that some persecution is inevitable in 8:35 and 12:4.) In our passage, he assumes his readers understand that nobody but nobody has the right to do the evils perpetrated or commanded by the exousiai, reminds them that God will work all things to their good, and instructs them to submit as much as they can within those limits.

Exposition

Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. (1a)

In one sense, everyone is subject to the governing authorities whether they want to be or not. “Governing authorities” are always ultimately the people to whom no one can say no. But of course, Paul is talking about the attitude of the heart: we are to be somehow willing to have them rule over us. Jesus’s words in the Sermon on the Mount come to mind: “Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles” (Matt 5:39–41). That is, if we are treated unjustly—that seems to be the implied context—not only do we not fight back, we treat those who mistreat us graciously and generously. (I suppose one application to these verses could be that we should pay double the amount on our tax bills, but I am certainly not that holy yet.) That does not mean that either those who strike us, those who sue us, those who enslave us, or those who otherwise “govern” us have the right to do as they do. Rather, what they do is between them and God; we are to be gracious and generous, period. We are to strive to live “a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and dignity” (1 Tim 2:2). Within limits, that means obeying the laws.

For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. (1b)

God ordains kings, from Pharaoh (“I have raised you up,” Exod 9:16) to Nebuchadnezzar (“The Most High rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom he will,” Dan 4:25) to the antichrist Beast (“The beast that rises from the bottomless pit will make war on them and conquer them and kill them. . . . I saw a beast rising out of the sea . . . . The whole earth marveled as they followed the beast. . . . And the beast was given [by God] a mouth uttering haughty and blasphemous words, and it was allowed [by God] to exercise authority for forty-two months,” Rev 11:7; 13:1–5). So yes, God gives them authority and power.

But do they have the right to use that God-given authority and power to kill innocent people? Is the idea of a person having the right to act unjustly not an oxymoron? It is one thing to say that God in his providence will bring good from evil actions, quite another to say that that act was legitimate because good came from it.

God surely granted Pilate the authority to act unjustly (John 19:10–11)—unless we hold that Pilate acted justly by having Jesus executed—but did he give him the right? If tetranomy holds here, Pilate had no right to harm an innocent person, so to have Jesus crucified was to commit injustice, and he had no right to do so.

God ordained the Babylonians to destroy Jerusalem because of the people’s sin, but he also holds them guilty of robbery and murder (Hab 2:7–8). If tetranomy holds, how much more will he hold guilty those governors who kill and plunder innocent people!

Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment . . . (2)

The key word here is “judgment”—whose judgment? God’s? Man’s?

Obviously, if you drive 55 in a 25 mile-per-hour zone and run over a child, you will get judgment from both God and man. But is it possible to be judged by God but not by man? Or vice versa? If tetranomy is a valid principle, then the answer is yes in both cases. The Roman soldiers who murdered the innocent children in Bethlehem (Matt 2:16) were not condemned as murderers by the governing authority, but tetranomy would predict that God convicted them of murder. To find someone guilty of an unjust law duly instituted—that is, punished by the authorities for an activity that transgresses no divine law—we need look no further than today’s America, where people have been punished for transgressing laws of which they were not aware against crossing state lines to buy cough medicine.

This “judgment” (krima) that resisters will incur—what is it? Is it “damnation” (KJV), eternal separation from God, or is it punishment by the earthly authority? To follow the KJV here is to claim that people who disobey even the most godless decree of the state risk damnation and that the way to please God is to obey such godless decrees. The claim of tetranomy is that the punishment that those who disobey the state’s decrees can expect to suffer is earthly, inflicted by the authorities. And, of course, persecution by the state is precisely the enforcement of unjust laws and infliction of undeserved suffering. Our discussion of verse 1 warns, or at least advises, us to obey the petty dictates. Tetranomy tells us to disobey the evil ones.

. . . (for rulers cause no fear for good conduct but for bad). (3a)

The key words here are good and bad. Who defines them in this situation? The conventional wisdom says that because it is God who ultimately determines good and bad, “good” and “bad” here refer to what God calls good and bad. However, as has been said, unless we hold that “the one who is in authority” listens to God, it is “the one who is in authority” who determines good and bad in everyday life, and, as has also been said, we can expect his view of good and bad to be ungodly. “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil” (Isa 5:20); tetranomy would add that woe to those who do so on the basis of decrees by the rich and powerful ungodly.

I am not sure how to answer anyone who thinks the mothers in Bethlehem or the family of Naboth or the Jews of the Third Reich or the Christians under Islam and Communism had no fear in earthly terms for their good conduct. Yes, the Christian is to “be strong and courageous” even in the face of torture and death—I get that. But Paul is speaking of normal human fear here. His words are the same as the tyrant’s reassurance, “If you have done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear.”

But the fact is that some rulers do terrorize those who do good. This is why the conventional wisdom tries (and succeeds with most people) to sneak in the idea that the ruler is not supposed to cause good people to fear. But that’s not what the text says. It flatly declares that rulers rightly (at least as much as humanly possible) are out to protect the good and punish the evil.

Jesus says that we can expect unbelieving rulers to act in their own interests and contrary to the interests of those they rule. “The rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and those in high positions use their authority over them” (Matt 20:25). Such people are even considered benefactors (Luke 22:25). But they will not use godly standards to determine good and bad because they cannot. “The outlook of the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to the law of God, nor is it able to do so. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God” (Rom 8:7–8). “The natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him, and he is not able to understand them, because they are spiritually discerned” (1 Cor 2:14).

So if we can pretty much guarantee that the rulers will be the ones who determine what is good conduct and what is bad conduct on the street and that they will use ungodly criteria to make that determination, we can expect that many of the laws they make will be unjust. God gives them the opportunity to make unjust laws, but—unless God has granted them the right to act unjustly, which the standard of tetranomy denies—they have no right to make those laws.

Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval. (3b)

Do we want the “approval” of the ungodly? Or is it God’s approval that we seek?

Paul is saying here that as long as we obey the decrees of the powerful, we can expect to live in peace. He is not supposing, let alone claiming, that those decrees are just.

For he is God’s servant for your good. (4a)

Paul has already said, “All things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Rom 8:28). Whether the actions or decrees of the one in authority are just or unjust, they will work together—or as 픓⁴⁶ and Codex Vaticanus put it, God works all things together—for the good of God’s people. God calls Nebuchadnezzar his servant (Jer 25:9; 27:6; 43:10), and Nebuchadnezzar’s murderous pillaging was ultimately God’s plan for the good of his people; what Nebuchadnezzar planned for evil, God planned for good (cp. Gen 50:20)—it was no less murder and pillage because God planned it for good, but God did plan it for good. We need not fear the one in authority—not because he will always treat us well when we do good, but because whatever evil he does in the short term God will ultimately turn to good.

But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. (4b)

Again, as with the discussion of “good” above, the salient word here is “wrong”: who defines what is right and wrong? Ultimately, of course, it is God, but whose definition of wrong is Paul talking about in this instance? Since “the sword” here is a metaphor for earthly judgment, it seems reasonable to expect “wrong” to be defined by the earthly judge, whether he listens to God or not. And he will “bear the sword” against anyone who goes against what he thinks is wrong.

Here, I must admit, my rendering runs into a problem: “be afraid.” Jesus’s people are not to be afraid of those who can only kill the body; we are only to fear God (Matt 10:28). If we take this word (phobou) as proof that our fear here is to be only of God, then “wrong” here would be defined as what God calls wrong. I have two reasons for thinking this is not the case.

First, I assume that this verse was written with the likely imperial spies in mind. The spies would be unfamiliar with Jesus and Scripture and would take this sentence in its earthly sense: “If you do what is morally wrong, you should be afraid of the one in authority because he will punish you.” The more loyal the spy to the Emperor, the more likely he is to equate imperial edicts with moral rightness and consider whatever punishment is meted out to be just. So Paul is hiding the truth in plain sight: loving God first and your neighbor as yourself—or proclaiming Jesus as Lord—may get you in trouble with the state.

Second, if the correct interpretation were that “wrong” here refers to what God judges as wrong, it would logically follow that whatever the one in authority says is God’s word, either because the ruler’s words are or become God’s word or because the ruler is somehow in touch with God and speaking his mind. First Corinthians 2:14 eliminates the latter possibility, and the examples of the Hebrew midwives (Exod 1:17), Moses’s parents (Heb 11:23), and the wife of the man of Bahurim (2 Sam 17:17–20) eliminate the former. Tetranomy allows us to take “be afraid” as a code word or metonym for “prepare to die.” Again, the truth is hidden in plain sight.

For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out wrath on the wrongdoer. (4c)

The Greek does not specify that the “wrath” here is God’s: the phrase is “the one who avenges for punishment on the one who does what is bad” (LEB; ekdikos eis orgēn tō to kakon prassonti). The conventional wisdom (e.g., ESV) infers that the wrath is God’s, but a tetranomic reading would lead us to posit that the definitions of “wrath” and “wrongdoer” here are, as above, those of the one in authority, which may or may not match God’s definitions. If you go against the authority, you can expect him to carry out his wrath on you.

Not all laws promulgated by the ungodly are unjust, so the wrath of the “servant of God” may indeed be God’s wrath. How do we know whether the authorities are carrying out God’s wrath? Simple: if the violation is of tetranomy, the punishment is just. Otherwise (with debatable exceptions), it’s not.

This interpretation is like the conventional wisdom in that both acknowledge that the passage cannot be taken at face value. However, it has two advantages. First, instead of importing its modifications from material that may or may not have been available to the original readers and is certainly in a different part of Scripture, it gets its key from an adjacent passage. Secondly, it pulls out from the roots the all-too-human and ungodly tendency to create a special class of people exempt from the most important commandments who can procure advantages for those they favor that are unavailable through the peaceful interactions of a tetranomic system.

Therefore one must be in subjection, not only because of wrath but also for the sake of conscience. (5)

We know what the “therefore” is there for: because those who do what the authorities consider wrong can expect to suffer punishment, we need to “be in subjection” for two reasons, “because of wrath” and “for the sake of conscience.” We have dealt with the matter of wrath already, but what about the matter of “conscience”? Is Paul not saying that our consciences will rightly bother us if we disobey the authorities?

At least one lexicon (Abbot-Smith) gives the primary definition of syneidēsis (translated “conscience” in v. 5) as “consciousness,” and if this is the case here, it would mean that we would be “conscious,” thinking about and thus bothered by our actions. However, Paul elsewhere only uses the term to refer to a person’s sense of right and wrong. He says the conscience can be “wounded” (1 Cor 8:2) or “seared” (1 Tim 4:2), and in both cases it no longer judges right and wrong as God does; its default condition, however, seems to be receptive at some level to God’s standards of right and wrong. So again, if we disobey the authorities when they forbid us to carry out tetranomy or command us to break it, will our consciences not rightly convict us of sin?

I have no good exegetical answer. I can only say that the Hebrew midwives, Moses’s parents, and the wife of the man of Bahurim mentioned earlier must have had what felt like pangs of conscience (i.e., consciousness) until the authorities called off the dogs. Even Peter and John must have felt on edge returning to the temple after having been in prison and engaging in the activity that they had just been imprisoned for. How could they not? Or more recently, Martin Luther, “the Bull,” the first time he was asked if he would recant, asked for a day to think again before answering. Who of us has never waffled between absolute certainty and questioning whether we were really doing the right thing?

I am left with saying that syneidēsis here is a catachresis, metonym, or code word to be taken as the feeling of being on edge and in line for suffering as the result of actions that go against the prevailing spirit of the time. We should obey as much as possible, not only to avoid being punished but also to avoid being on edge until the authorities have moved on. But again, the ultimate judge of right and wrong is God; we need to obey God no matter what, not only so he does not punish us but so that we can have an unhindered relationship with him, and to obey God, what we need to live according to is not the decrees of the godless rich and powerful but the spirit of tetranomy.

For because of this you also pay taxes, for the authorities are ministers of God, attending to this very thing. (6)

The conjunction here, dia touto gar, “for because of this,” is a variant of dio, “therefore,” in the previous clause; it means that what follows is based on something, “this,” that precedes it. What does “this” refer to? The closest referent is “one must be in subjection”: because one must be in subjection—and, as we have seen, the Roman Christians had no real literal choice but to be in subjection—you also pay taxes. That is, being in subjection, essentially a slave, means giving up whatever property those in power demand.

As we have also seen, “the authorities are ministers of God”—not because they are especially committed to godly rule or are especially attentive to God’s word, but because God ordains whatever they do, good or evil (Amos 3:6) and will use it for his glory and the good of his people.

Taxation is the sine qua non of the state. Without taxes, no state can survive. The larger the tax base, the better off and more secure the ruling elite are (Prov 14:28). The down side is that heavy taxes breed resentment (1 Kgs 12:4), and as soon as the oppressed see an opportunity, they will revolt (1 Kgs 12:16). Until that day, however, it is taxes that enable the authorities to exercise, expand, and secure their power.

Since the authorities use tax money to oppress people, should we pay taxes? While the Pharisees asked Jesus that question to test him (Matt 22:17), disciples through the ages have asked the same question in all sincerity: should we give the government the resources it uses to oppress people? Jesus “realized [the Pharisees’] evil intentions” and so gave them an answer that was no practical help. (If everything on earth belongs to God, Ps 24:1, what belongs to Caesar? Does everything Caesar puts his name on automatically become his?) The tax about which Jesus gave Peter the answer before the question was asked (Matt 17:24–27) was to the temple, not to the Romans. So before Paul raises the subject in our passage, there has been no inscripturated instruction.

Paul tells his readers that they are to pay taxes, no matter how onerous or how evil the purposes for which they will be used. They are not guilty of the murder, theft, fraud, and defamation their tax money pays for. Again, they are essentially slaves, so their choice is between paying taxes and dying. Paul tells them to pay the tax and live, knowing that God will work out everything for the good of his people.

Pay to all what is owed to them: taxes to whom taxes, revenue to whom revenue, respect to whom respect, honor to whom honor. (7)

The salient term here is “owed.” Who determines what is owed? In normal society, what one person owes to a second person is no more or less than what properly belongs to the second person. In this context, however, the determination is obviously being made by the state. The ruler is thus asserting that he is the proper owner of whatever that tax covers. But does he truly automatically become the owner of whatever he says is his? Again, if the earth and everything in it properly belong to God, how does the one in authority declare ownership over anything by fiat?

This leads to the question of how God grants people stewardship over what are ultimately his own resources. A corollary of tetranomy is that he grants that stewardship of physical resources to those who are able to acquire them without violating life, property, trust, or reputation. Some people will be able to so acquire much more than they need to survive, others enough to enjoy varying degrees of comfort, and others not enough to survive. If what we have has been acquired lawfully, we can rightly say in the name of God to everyone, from Pharaoh on the throne to the slave girl grinding grain, “This is mine; you can’t take it.”

This means that the slave girl has no right to pilfer from her master (the legitimacy of master-slave relationships being a subject to be covered elsewhere), and, to the point of this essay, Pharaoh has no right to assess taxes. We have to pay taxes because God has given us no command to withhold them, but Pharaoh has no right to assess them.

Put another way, the poor and defenseless have no physical defense against the rich and powerful oppressor. But if tetranomy holds, they can rightly say to him in the name of God, “You have no right to take this from me. God sees and will repay.” The conventional wisdom deprives the poor of even that defense by placing no limit on the acquisitiveness of the authorities; thus, as the Pharisees’ declaration of corban freed its adherents from honoring their parents (Mark 7:11–13), the conventional wisdom frees its adherents from defending the rights of the poor and defenseless against the rich and powerful (Prov 29:7; 31:9; Isa 10:2; 27:2).

Perhaps for that reason we will never be able to throw off the yoke of oppression by the rich and powerful “authorities.” But to the degree that God allows our actions to be part of his answer to “thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,”—and even if that degree is no degree—he commands us to defend the rights of the poor as part of the Great Commission (Luke 4:18), and that defense begins with the defense of life, property, and truth. The state systematically violates all three. It is high time for the church to declare that it has no right to do so.

The substance of Romans 13:1–7 is not the only argument that has been raised against tetranomy. Appeal is often made to the institution of authority per se, as noted in the commandment to honor father and mother and Paul’s instructions for slaves to obey their masters. Subsequent posts will deal with these matters.

Part Three is here.