The Righteousness of God

When we gather around the table of the Word, we sometimes want to map the gospel into the contours of our existing worldview—make it neat, comfortable, logical, tidy. But then we open up The Epistle to the Romans and meet the apostle Paul the Apostle asking us to let the Word reshape our world instead of forcing the Word to conform to our world.

In chapters 1–4 of Romans Paul unfolds a radical truth: the righteousness of God is revealed—not by our cleverness, not by our works, not by our heritage—but through faith. He writes that through the gospel God’s righteousness is made known (Rom 1:16–17). (Enduring Word) He does not begin with “you must clean up your act, then come to God.” He begins with the universal brokenness of humanity, the depth of our need, the reality that none of us earn our way into right-standing. (biblicaltraining.org)

Paul describes how Gentiles, unaware of the detailed law of Moses, still suppress the truth that is plainly seen in creation—and so stand guilty (Rom 1). Then he turns to Jews, those with the law, and shows that having the law doesn’t equal righteousness—because the heart remains unchanged (Rom 2–3). He pulls no punches: “There is no one righteous, not even one.” (Rom 3:10) (Grateful)

Then comes the good news: in chapter 3 we see that “the righteousness of God” is available apart from the law, through faith in Jesus Christ for everyone who believes. (redeemereastside.com) In chapter 4 Paul points to Abraham—“he believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness” (Rom 4:3). The moment is significant: long before the law, before circumcision, Abraham trusted God—and was declared righteous. (regehrlein.wordpress.com)

So what does all that mean when someone asks “What about those who never knew Jesus?” Is it fair that one way is given—Jesus the only way—and that those outside that way would seem excluded? Paul’s argument helps. The righteousness of God is not our own achievement; it is God‐given through faith. And faith, in the biblical sense, is more than merely believing facts—it means trusting God’s promise, responding to God’s revelation, even when one’s horizon is limited. Because Abraham was counted righteous before law and before circumcision, Paul is showing that God has always accepted those who trust him, even when their knowledge was partial, and that the plan of God through Jesus brings that promise to fullness for all who believe.

It means that the gospel is universally accessible, and that God’s justice and mercy meet in the cross of Christ. It means that if someone truly, in whatever way they could, turned to God in faith—trusting, seeking, longing—then the basis of their acceptance is not their perfection but God’s promise. That is the true fairness: not that every person earns salvation by their works, but that every person stands on the ground of God’s grace. To deny that would be to pretend that human effort could bridge the gap that, Paul shows, only God’s gift can fill.

Yet—and here is the warning—so often we try to make the Word fit our world-view rather than keeping it real with the Word. We are tempted to soften the edges, to say “surely God will accept everyone whatever they believe” without confronting the fact that Paul insists on the gospel of Christ. Or we might insist that only our own tradition counts, ignoring Paul’s claim that the law and brings no righteousness, only faith. We must resist that. To “keep it real with the Word” means to wrestle with the tension: the exclusivity of Christ, the universality of faith, the free gift of righteousness, and the call to faith and obedience.

In our church life, in our conversations, in the way we live and witness, let us hold these truths: none of us stand by works, all of us stand by faith; God’s righteousness—not ours—is the ground of our hope; and the invitation of the gospel is wide, calling every nation, every people, every one who will trust. Let us not shrink back, let us not remodel the gospel to fit our comfort. Rather let us allow the gospel to reshuffle our comfort, our assumptions, our prejudices, that we might live as people justified by faith, and thus live by faith.