Back in the Garden, Adam’s sin opened the door to death, and each one of us walked through it. But Paul emphasizes that just as death came to all through one man, life has now come to all through another. And not just equal life—greater life. Grace that exceeds the damage, justification that outlasts the fall. The question is no longer what Adam cost us; the question is what we will do with what Christ has given us.
Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned.
Romans 5:12 (NIV)
Why do we blame Adam (more specifically Eve) for our downfall but refuse to believe Jesus can undo it all?
People are quick to point to Adam — or more precisely, to Eve — as the cause of everything that has gone wrong in the world. They have made a scapegoat, a convenient explanation for all human failure. And yet, these same people find it impossible to believe that one man — Jesus — could undo it all by a single act of obedience.
Consequently, just as one trespass resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people. For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.
Romans 5:18-19 (NIV)
But Paul’s argument cuts both ways. If the fall of one brought condemnation to all, then the righteousness of one can bring justification to all. The same logic applies. The same principle holds. To accept one and reject the other is to be intellectually dishonest — and worse, to cheat ourselves out of the very freedom we have been given.
When we spend our lives blaming Adam, or our ancestors, or our circumstances for who we are, we never have to take responsibility for our own actions. We never have to reckon with our own sin. And when we never reckon with our own sin, we never truly understand grace — and when we do not understand grace, we have none to offer anyone else.
We struggle to extend to others the grace we have received. Like the early Jewish believers, we place our trust in laws and traditions — as though these secure our salvation — rather than resting in the grace of God alone, who has reversed the consequences of mankind’s fall in the garden.
The Purpose of the Law
The law was brought in so that the trespass might increase. But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Romans 5:20-21 (NIV)
Did God give the law to condemn us?
God’s purpose in giving the law was never condemnation. Before the law, sin existed — but people did not fully understand what they were doing or why it mattered. When the Israelites came out of the desert and began to settle as a people, they needed a framework. They needed to know what was right and what was wrong. They needed to understand the ways of God. The law was given to govern, to illuminate, to show the path. It was given so that people would know — not so that they would be crushed.
Does grace increasing mean we have a licence to sin?
When people hear Paul’s claim that where sin increased, grace increased all the more, they treat it as a license to sin. They reason that they can continue in sin and simply return to God’s grace whenever they are ready — through a sacrament, a prayer, a sacrifice, or even baptism to clean was away their sins.
Think of it this way. Suppose your home town is fifty miles from your workplace, and you make the journey every weekend without difficulty. Then you get a new job, and your home town is now two hundred miles away. But with the new job comes a salary — and with the salary comes a car. And with the car, even at two hundred miles, you can still make the journey every week in the same amount of time. Grace does not celebrate our distance from God — it bridges it. No matter how far we have drifted, His grace is sufficient to bring us back home. That is what grace increasing means. Not permission to wander — but the assurance that even when we do, the way back remains open.
A New Life
We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.
Romans 6:4 (NIV)
Can our lives before and after knowing Jesus remain the same?
If we have truly encountered Jesus — not just learned about Him, not just joined a congregation, but genuinely understood what He did on the cross and experienced His grace firsthand — then we cannot remain the same. It is not a matter of willpower or discipline. When something that transformative touches your life, it turns you around. It points you in a direction you were not walking before. The old life does not merely get improved — it ends. And something new begins.
Yet so many continue in the same patterns, the same sins, the same habits, the same ways of relating to the world — while claiming their lives have been transformed since coming to Christ. But what has actually changed? In many cases, only the label. They have not become more like Jesus; they have simply become more like their church, their leader, or the culture of their community. But the goal was never to emulate any human — for that path leads us back to Adam. It has always been to reflect the qualities of Jesus, to be transformed into his likeness.
The new life Paul speaks of is not cosmetic. It is not a change of identity or a change of social group. It is the laying down of the former life in its entirety — the guilt, the patterns, the old loyalties — and the taking up of everything God had planned for us. The former life has passed away and nothing is holding us back. The question is only whether we are willing to walk forward.
Becoming Instruments of Righteousness
Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master.
Romans 6:13-14 (NIV)
Do people willingly offer themselves as instruments of wickedness?
We willingly hold on to pride and nurse feelings of hatred. We replay hurtful conversations in our minds, perfecting the response that will wound the other person most — not to resolve the conflict, but to win it. We feed our desire for revenge, rehearsing our cutting remarks until they are sharp and ready. We quietly celebrate when someone who wronged us faces hardship, telling ourselves they deserved it. We carry old offenses into new relationships, allowing past wounds to poison present interactions, and we use our wit as a weapon, disguising cruelty as cleverness. We refuse to forgive not because we cannot, but because holding the grudge gives us a sense of power over the person who hurt us. In each of these moments, we are not simply failing to do good — we are actively choosing to do harm, offering ourselves as instruments of wickedness rather than vessels of grace.
To become an instrument of righteousness means the opposite of all of this. It means letting go of pride. Releasing anger. Surrendering the need to be vindicated. Giving up the demand that others pay what we feel they owe us. It means placing His desires above ours — completely, not partially — and letting Him direct where we go and what we do.
For so long, we have channelled all of our energy, all of our devotion, all of our discipline into accomplishing the purposes of the prince of this world. We have been remarkably committed to it. Now the invitation is simply to shift that same commitment — that same intensity — toward the King of heaven and earth, and to offer every part of ourselves in service of His purposes instead.
The transformed life is not a destination we arrive at — it is a direction we choose, every single day. It is the daily decision to lay down what we want and pick up what God has called us to. It is the choice to extend grace when every instinct demands justice, to release offense when every emotion insists on holding on, and to reflect the likeness of Jesus when the culture around us pulls us back toward Adam.
The Jordan Valley 
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