Sermons I've Preached: Romans 6

This is a raw manuscript of my sermon preached at Pataskala Grace Church on Sunday, April 12, 2026 titled Power as part of PGC’s Paradise to Promise series.

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Good morning, Pataskala Grace. If we haven’t met yet — my name is Josh. I’m one of the pastors here. I’m really glad you’re with us today.

Are any of you also really excited that Spring is here? Especially after the winter we just had.

Listen, Spring is one of my favorite times of year as a sports fan. This week we had The Masters. The NBA and NHL playoffs are coming up. And probably most importantly for me, it’s officially baseball season.

And listen, if you know me at all, you know I love baseball. And how much I love the Cleveland Guardians. And listen, it’s not just the Guardians. It’s The Browns. It’s the Cavs. It’s all Cleveland sports. I’m all in.

But here’s the thing. If you had known me fifteen, twenty, twenty-five years ago — that wasn’t always true.

I didn’t grow up a Cleveland sports fan. I grew up loving the Boston Red Sox. And it wasn’t just the Red Sox — I loved the New England Patriots (pre-Tom Brady, by the way). I loved the Celtics. If you had asked me years ago, I would have told you I was a Boston sports fan through and through. That was my identity as a sports fan. My heart belonged to Boston.

But somewhere along the way, after moving to Ohio, something changed. I went all in on Cleveland. Which, listen, that may not have been the smartest thing. Do you know that in my lifetime, the Patriots, Red Sox, and Celtics have won a combined twelve championships? Do you know how many titles Cleveland has won in my lifetime? One. One glorious, beautiful, miraculous championship.

And you know what? It’s my favorite sports memory. My heart belongs to Cleveland now. I adopted the pain. I embraced the suffering. Cleveland fans, I became one of you. In fact, at this very moment there is a Cleveland Cavaliers flag flying outside my house.

But if you look inside my house, you’ll see something else. There’s a lot of Cleveland stuff, but if you look close, you’ll see some Boston stuff too. Because if I’m honest — while I’ve embraced Cleveland, I’ve still kind of held onto some of that old Boston identity too.

And listen, normally it’s manageable. I can watch the Red Sox and the Guardians separately. I can watch the Celtics and the Cavs separately. I can kind of pretend those two identities can peacefully coexist. But I know that won’t last forever. Because every season the Red Sox play the Guardians. The Cavaliers play the Celtics. And when that happens — I can’t keep those two identities separate anymore.

Because the moment conflict comes, divided loyalty gets exposed. You can cheer for both sides when there’s no conflict. But the moment they stand across from each other — neutrality disappears. One has to win. One has to lose. When two identities collide, you find out which one actually owns your heart.

I put it for you like this in your notes: We can’t live with competing identities.

And listen — sports are one thing. But the truth underneath that illustration reaches a lot further than sports. Because every one of us knows what it feels like to want one thing and keep living like something else still defines us.

Maybe you tell yourself you want to be financially responsible. You want to save money. Stick to a budget. Get out of debt. But somehow Amazon keeps showing up at your house so often that you know the driver on a first-name basis. Maybe you tell yourself you want to eat better. Lose some weight. Finally get serious about your health. But then someone invites you to Tlaquepaque and suddenly discipline goes out the window because you can’t say no to tacos.

We all know what it feels like to live in the gap between who we want to be and who we keep acting like. Living like that is exhausting. It is exhausting to feel pulled in two directions all the time.

I love Cleveland, but man, sometimes those Boston teams look really good. Sometimes that old allegiance still pulls at me. And that’s sports. That’s trivial. How much more exhausting is it when the battle is spiritual? When you love Jesus — but man, that sinful habit still feels good for a moment. When you want holiness — but temptation keeps showing up. When you know who Christ says you are — but after failing again, you feel more like a disappointment than a disciple.

And if we’re honest — when that battle gets exhausting, it can start to feel easier to just give in. Easier to stop fighting. Easier to excuse it. And that tension raises a question. I think a lot of us have thought it even if we’d never say it out loud. It’s this: If God forgives sin — why stop sinning?

Maybe that feels too bold. Maybe you’re appalled I would even suggest that. Maybe you’ve never consciously asked that question out loud. But if we’re honest — a lot of us have asked that question with our lives even if we’ve never asked it with our lips.

Every time we knowingly choose sin because we assume God has to forgive us. Every time we minimize sin because we convince ourselves it’s really not that serious. Every time we treat repentance casually because we assume we can deal with it later — we may never say it out loud, but our hearts are asking it.

And church, hear me — the temptation to abuse grace is not merely theological confusion. It is Eden all over again. It is the same lie that Adam and Eve fell for in the garden. Maybe disobedience will satisfy more than obedience. Maybe sin will deliver what God will not.

And if we’re honest — that comes naturally to us. Because change is hard. Killing sin is hard. Turning away from habits that have shaped us for years is hard. So when grace is preached clearly — when people hear salvation is free, forgiveness is complete, and Christ has paid it all — the sinful heart naturally asks, “Then why keep fighting? Why struggle so hard?”

And church — that is not a new question. It is the exact question Paul addresses in Romans 6. After five chapters magnifying the grace of God — after showing that sinners are saved by faith alone, that we’re declared righteous not because of what we have done but because of what Christ has done — Paul knows exactly what objection is coming next. “If grace is really that free, and forgiveness is really that complete, then why stop sinning?”

So if you have your Bible, turn with me to Romans chapter 6. And if you’re able, would you stand with me as we read together?

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Father, thank You for Your Word. Thank You that You don’t leave us to guess how we’re supposed to live — but You speak clearly and graciously to us. Open our eyes this morning to see the beauty of what Christ has done. Shape our hearts by Your Spirit so we’d not just hear Your Word — but believe it, love it, obey it. In Jesus’ name, amen.

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Church, now that we’ve read the text — notice what Paul does first. He goes straight at the question we’ve been building toward. If God forgives sin — why stop sinning? If grace really is that free, if forgiveness really is that complete, if Christ has truly paid it all — why keep battling sin? Why not just do what feels good, do what comes naturally, and trust grace to cover it afterward?

Paul does not dodge that question. He answers it immediately. And in his answer, I think we find the main truth driving this entire passage. I put it like this in your notes:

Because we are alive in Christ, we can no longer live in sin.

We Cannot Live In Sin (vv. 1–2)

That is Paul’s answer. Look at verse 1. “What should we say then? Should we continue in sin so that grace may multiply?” In other words — if more sin means more grace, why not just keep sinning?

And Paul’s response is immediate: “Absolutely not!” Some of your translations say “By no means,” “God forbid,” or “May it never be.” Paul uses one of the strongest expressions of rejection available in the Greek language. He is not mildly disagreeing. He is horrified that someone would even think that way.

It is the kind of response you give when your six-year-old asks if they can borrow the car keys because they’re driving to Chick-fil-A. You do not stop and think about it. You do not weigh the pros and cons. You say — “That’s insane.” That is Paul’s tone here.

He hears the suggestion that grace should make us more comfortable with sin — and he treats the very idea as absurd. Why? Because grace does not merely pardon the guilty. Grace changes the guilty. Grace does not erase your record and leave you exactly as you were. Grace makes you new.

And that is why Paul immediately asks — “How can we who died to sin still live in it?”

Church, hear me carefully — Paul is not saying Christians never sin. He is not saying believers never struggle. He is not saying genuine Christians never fail. He is saying this: those who have been made alive in Christ cannot remain at peace with the sin that nailed their Savior to the cross.

Why? Because something has changed. Something real. Something decisive. Something fundamental. When God saves a person — He does not simply forgive them and leave them unchanged. He makes them new. He gives them a new heart. New desires. A new identity. And that means the old life no longer fits the new person grace has made.

We said it earlier and Paul is saying it again — we cannot live with competing identities. You cannot belong to Christ and live as though sin still owns you. You cannot wear the name of Jesus and make peace with the sin that placed thorns upon His head. You cannot claim resurrection life while crawling back to embrace the corpse of your old life.

And let me press that just a little further — if you can live in ongoing, comfortable, unrepentant sin with no grief, no conviction, no war in your soul — this text is not meant to comfort you. It is meant to confront you. Because Paul’s point is not that Christians sin less perfectly. His point is that Christians cannot be at peace with what put Christ on the cross.

But hear the hope in that too — if you are here this morning and sin is a fight for you, if you hate your sin, grieve your sin, keep dragging your failures back to Jesus in repentance — that struggle is not proof grace has failed you. It may be evidence grace is at work in you. Dead people do not fight sin. People alive in Christ do.

Church, the war inside you may be painful — but the war itself is evidence that something in you has changed. Those who belong to Jesus can no longer live in sin — because those who belong to Jesus are no longer who they used to be.

We Are United to Christ in His Death and Resurrection (vv. 3–5)

Starting in verse 3, Paul begins to tell us why that is true. How can grace so fundamentally change a person that sin no longer fits them? Here Paul tells us why grace changes us. Why can’t someone who has been saved by grace go on living comfortably in sin?

Paul’s answer is not: “Because Christians should know better.” It’s not: “Because God has rules.” It’s not: “Because you need to try harder.” No — Paul roots the entire answer in one massive theological reality: because if we belong to Jesus, we are united to Jesus.

Church, do you see Paul’s logic? His answer to the question “Why can’t we go on sinning?” is this: because the person you were died with Christ. When you trusted in Jesus — you were not merely forgiven from afar. You were not merely handed grace at a distance. You were joined to Christ Himself.

Paul says you were baptized into Christ Jesus. That phrase matters. He does not merely say you believed facts about Jesus. He says you were brought into Him. United to Him. Joined to Him. Bound to Him. So that what became true of Christ became true of you. His death counts as your death. His burial counts as your burial. His resurrection becomes your new life. His future becomes your future.

Church, this is one of the most glorious truths in all of Christianity — Jesus does not save sinners merely by giving them gifts. He saves sinners by joining them to Himself. And every blessing of salvation flows downstream from that union.

Why are you justified? Because you are united to the Righteous One. Why are you adopted? Because you are united to the Son. Why are you sanctified? Because you are united to the Holy One. Why will you be glorified? Because you are united to the Risen One. Everything God gives you in salvation comes because He first gives you Christ.

That is why Paul points to baptism here — not because the water itself saves, but because baptism visibly portrays what spiritually happened at conversion. In baptism, they are confessing: my life is now bound up with Jesus. His death was my death. His burial was my burial. His resurrection is my resurrection.

And notice the language Paul uses: we were buried with Him. Not beside Him. Not after Him. Not merely like Him. With Him. Because Paul is not describing imitation. He is describing participation. He is saying that through union with Christ, the believer participates in Christ’s death and resurrection.

And burial means something. Burial means death has happened. Burial means finality. Paul is saying that old self — the one in Adam, the one enslaved to sin, the one under condemnation, the one ruled by the flesh — has been buried with Christ. That is why the Christian cannot live in sin as though nothing changed. Because something changed. The old you died.

And verse 4 says: “...so that we too may walk in newness of life.” Meaning — you were not united to Christ merely to receive forgiveness. You were united to Christ to receive new life. The resurrection of Jesus was not merely an event for your admiration — it became the source of your transformation. The Christian life is not lived by self-reinvention. It is not behavior modification. It is not moral effort. It is resurrection life flowing from union with a living Christ.

And verse 5 pushes even further. “For if we have been united with him in the likeness of his death, we will certainly also be in the likeness of his resurrection.” Paul’s point is — if you are united to Christ in His death, then your future resurrection is as certain as His empty tomb. Because union with Christ does not merely secure forgiveness. It secures everything. Present sanctification. Future glorification. Final victory.

Christian — your future is bound to Christ’s future. If He lives — you live. If He rose — you will rise. If death could not hold Him — death will not hold you.

We Are Free from Sin’s Power (vv. 6–11)

And now Paul is going to press that truth even further. Because if your union with Christ means your old self died — then what exactly happened to sin’s power over you? What changed in your relationship to sin itself? That is where Paul goes next in verses 6 through 11. He is about to tell you — not only did you die with Christ, but because we died with Christ, we are free from sin’s power.

Look at verse 6. “For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be rendered powerless, so that we may no longer be enslaved to sin.” Church — notice the language Paul uses. He says enslaved. Paul is not talking about sin merely as something you do. He is talking about sin as a power that once ruled you. Sin was a dictator.

Before Christ, sin was not merely a bad habit you occasionally struggled with. It was your master. It set the agenda. It called the shots. It determined the course of your life. You were not spiritually neutral people making unfortunate mistakes. You were slaves. That is Paul’s language.

And then Christ came. And Paul says — “Our old self was crucified with Him.” Do not miss how violent that language is. Paul does not say your old self was improved. Refined. Managed. Redirected. He says it was crucified. Executed. Put to death. Nailed to a cross with Christ.

Church — Jesus did not come to renovate the old you. He did not come to make your flesh more respectable. He came to put it in the grave. Christianity is not rehabilitation. It is resurrection.

And Paul says the purpose of that crucifixion was “...so that the body ruled by sin might be rendered powerless.” Not eradicated. Not absent. But dethroned. Its rule has been broken. Its dominion shattered. Its authority revoked.

Church, sin still fights. But it no longer rules. And that distinction matters. Because there is a massive difference between struggling with something and being mastered by it. A master owns you. A master determines your future. A master gets the final word. But a struggle? A struggle means war is happening. A struggle means two kingdoms are colliding. A struggle means the old tyrant is trying to reclaim ground he no longer owns.

And hear me say this again — if sin is a fight for you, that is not evidence grace has failed. It may be evidence grace has triumphed. Dead people do not fight sin. The reason there is war in you is because something in you has been made alive.

Before Christ — you did not fight sin. You served it. You fed your pride. You nurtured your bitterness. You indulged your lust. You obeyed your flesh. But now — the dictator has been dethroned. Sin still speaks. Sin still tempts. Sin still remembers your weaknesses. But it no longer has dominion.

And Paul grounds that reality even deeper in verses 8 through 10. Paul’s point is this: Jesus died to sin’s realm once for all. He entered death. Bore sin’s curse. Destroyed its claim. And now having risen — He lives forever beyond its reach. Sin can never touch Him again. Death can never claim Him again. Its power is broken forever.

And because you are united to Him — what is true of Christ has become true of you. Church — your freedom from sin is not grounded in your willpower. It is grounded in the finished work of a crucified and risen Savior.

That is why Paul says in verse 11 — “So, you too consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.” That word consider means: reckon it. Count it. Stake your life on it. Treat it as fact.

Paul is not saying — pretend sin is not hard. He is not saying — deny the struggle. He is not saying — work yourself into some emotional frenzy. He is saying — believe what God has declared true. Count as reality what Christ has accomplished. Sin is not your master. You are not its slave. Its reign is over. Its authority is broken. You are alive to God in Christ Jesus.

Church — the Christian life is not lived by trying to make that true. It is lived by believing that because of Jesus — it already is.

We Are Called to Obedience (vv. 12–14)

And now Paul is going to show us what that means practically. Because if sin’s power is broken — how should the Christian actually respond?

Beginning in verse 12, Paul shifts. For eleven verses he has been telling you what is true of you in Christ. You died with Him. You were buried with Him. You were raised with Him. You have been freed from sin’s dominion. Those are statements of reality — things God has done, truths to believe. But now Paul moves from declaration to command.

Look at verse 12. “Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body, so that you obey its desires.” Do not let — that is a command. Which means even though sin’s rule has been broken, sin is still trying to crawl back onto the throne. It no longer rules you by right. But it still fights for rule by deception. It still tempts. Still whispers. Still lies. Still promises life where there is none. And Paul says — do not let it reign. Do not hand the throne back to the tyrant Christ died to overthrow.

Then verse 13 — “And do not offer any parts of it to sin as weapons for unrighteousness.” That word matters. Paul says your body — your eyes, your mouth, your hands, your mind, your desires, your sexuality, your attention — are weapons. Your life is not neutral. Your body is not neutral. Your habits are not neutral. They are being wielded for something.

Every day your eyes are being used in a war. Every day your mouth is being used in a war. Every day your thoughts, your attention, your desires are being wielded either for righteousness or for sin. Church — there is no neutral ground in the Christian life. There is no spiritual Switzerland. You are not merely making choices. You are taking sides in a war.

And Paul says — stop handing your weapons back to the enemy who used to enslave you. Do not offer your eyes to lust. Do not offer your mind to bitterness. Do not offer your mouth to gossip. Do not offer your hands to selfishness. Do not offer your body to the very sin Christ bled to free you from.

Instead — “Offer yourselves to God as those who are alive from the dead.” And do not miss that phrase. Paul does not say — offer yourselves to God so that you can become alive. He says — offer yourselves to God as those who are alive from the dead. That changes everything.

Christian obedience is not an attempt to earn life. It is the response of someone who has already received it. You do not obey to become God’s child. You obey because in Christ — you already are.

Church — God is not standing at a distance waiting to see if you perform well enough to earn your place in His family. He has already brought you in. He has already set His love on you. He has already adopted you through Christ.

Obedience is not fearful people trying to earn God’s approval. It is the grateful response of adopted sons and daughters learning to live like they belong in the Father’s house. We fight sin not because God might love us if we do well — we fight sin because in Christ He already does.

And then Paul gives us this promise in verse 14 — “For sin will not rule over you, because you are not under law but under grace.” What a promise. Not — “Sin might not rule over you.” Not — “Sin probably won’t rule over you.” Paul says — it will not. Why? Because you are under grace. Meaning — you no longer stand before God on the basis of your performance. You no longer fight for acceptance. You fight from acceptance.

Church — obedience in the Christian life is the joyful response of people who have already been loved, already been forgiven, already been accepted, already been made new. So yes — God calls His people to obedience. Radical obedience. Serious obedience. Whole-life obedience. Not because obedience saves us — but because grace never leaves saved people unchanged.

Fight Sin Like Jesus Already Won

And that raises the obvious question — if that is true, if grace has changed us, if sin’s rule is broken, if obedience is now our calling — then how do we actually fight this battle?

Here is the heartbeat underneath this whole passage. Here is what I want ringing in your ears when you walk out of this room today:

Fight sin like Jesus already won. Because Christian — He did.

You are not fighting for victory. You are fighting from victory. You are not marching into battle hoping the outcome goes your way. You are standing in a war whose decisive battle has already been won by another.

Church — you need to remember who your Savior is. Jesus did not come to make sin manageable. He did not come to help you cope with it. He did not come to improve your life while leaving your chains intact. He came to destroy the works of the devil. He came to crush the serpent’s head. He came to break the dominion of sin. He came to walk into death itself — and rip its teeth out.

Church — at the cross, Jesus Christ did not merely make salvation possible. He accomplished it. Fully. Finally. Decisively.

When He hung on that cross — bearing the wrath of God for every sin of every person who would ever trust in Him — the victory was never in doubt. He was winning. When the blood ran down His face beneath a crown of thorns — He was winning. When nails split His wrists — He was winning. When His lungs filled with blood and He pushed Himself upward just to breathe — He was winning. When darkness covered the sky and the Father poured out judgment — He was winning.

And when He cried out — “It is finished” — He did not mean, “I have made salvation possible if they can finish the rest.” He meant: the debt is paid. The wrath is satisfied. Sin is condemned. Satan is defeated. Redemption is accomplished. Finished.

And then three days later — the stone rolled away. The grave lost. Death lost. Hell lost. Sin lost. Jesus Christ walked out of that tomb alive forevermore — and if you are in Him — His victory is your victory.

Church — hear me — you were powerless to save yourself. You were powerless to justify yourself. You were powerless to raise yourself from death. And listen — you are still powerless to conquer sin in your own strength. You cannot out-discipline your flesh. You cannot white-knuckle yourself into holiness. You cannot grit your teeth hard enough to become sanctified.

If your hope is in your willpower — you will lose. If your confidence is in your discipline — you will fall. If your strategy is just “try harder this week” — you are already in trouble. Because sin is too strong for you. Temptation is too deceptive for you. Your flesh is too weak for you.

But praise God — Jesus is not weak. And the same Spirit who raised Christ from the dead now dwells in you. The risen Christ is not merely your example. He is your life. He is your strength. He is your power. He is your victory.

So when temptation comes — and it will — do not fight like an orphan trying to earn a family. Fight like someone who already bears the Father’s name. Do not fight like the grave still has the final word. Fight like the stone has already been rolled away.

Church — when sin comes calling and whispers, “You’ll always belong to me” — you preach louder: “No — I belong to Christ.”

When your shame says, “You will never change” — you preach louder: “No — I am a new creation in Christ.”

When your failures pile up and the enemy whispers, “You are still who you used to be” — you preach louder: “No — that man died with Jesus. That woman was buried with Christ. I am not who I was.”

And right there — you stand flatfooted on the gospel. Not moving. Not negotiating. Not backing up an inch. You plant your feet on what Christ has done and you refuse to let sin rewrite your identity.

Church — this is how Christians fight. We fight by staying in the Word — because lies die in the presence of truth. We fight by confessing sin — because sin loses power when it’s dragged into the light. We fight by walking with others — because sin grows in isolation but weakens in the light of godly community. We fight by believing what is true. We fight by preaching the gospel to ourselves again. We fight by looking at our sin and saying — “You have no authority here anymore.” We fight by looking at the cross and remembering — Jesus already won.

So fight. Fight daily. Fight seriously. Kill sin. Make no peace with it. Show it no mercy. Drag it into the light. Confess it quickly. Repent of it violently. Run from it ruthlessly.

But do not fight like the outcome is uncertain. Fight like your King already crushed the serpent. Fight like your Savior already left the grave behind. Fight like sin is a dethroned tyrant making empty threats.

Fight sin like Jesus already won. Because He did.

Let’s pray.