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Quick note for new subscribers: We're in the middle of Romans right now. If you just joined us, you might feel like you're walking into the middle of a movie. You are. Here's what I recommend:

Keep reading below if you want to start where we are (Romans 5:15)
Or go back to the beginning - [Here's the intro to Romans], and [here's the full archive] so you can start from Chapter 1.

Either way works. I just don't want you to feel lost.

Before diving into my notes, I encourage you to read Romans 5:15 first (or the whole chapter if you have time).

I include all the Scripture below, but there’s something about sitting with the whole chapter first — giving yourself room to be curious.

What catches you off guard?
What doesn't make sense?
Where is that?
Who's that?
Why?

Those questions will make the notes hit deeper.

"When disciples followed a rabbi, they followed him closely so they would never be out of his sight, never be someplace where they couldn’t hear him speak. They followed him so closely that his sandals often kicked up dust."

May you be covered in His dust.

Peace to you, brothers and sisters.

We've been in the same courtroom for a few weeks now, and I don't want to move on without making sure you're still standing there with me.

Paul started something in verse 12 that he didn't finish. "Just as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned."

He opened a comparison. Just as Adam did this, you’re waiting for him to say, so Christ did that. But he doesn’t.

Instead he stops. He calls a recess to explain what he means by "all sinned," because if you misunderstand your connection to Adam, you'll misunderstand your connection to Jesus.

So Paul built his case like a lawyer building evidence. He pointed back to Genesis 5, that long genealogy most of us skip, where name after name ends the same way. And he died. And he died. And he died.

There was no law yet.
No Ten Commandments,
no Sinai,
nothing written down to break.

And people died anyway.

If death only came from breaking a written law, shouldn’t they have lived forever? They didn't. Which means something happened back in that garden that reached every one of them, law or no law.

Then right at the end of verse 14, just when you're sure Paul will tell you who Adam points to, he writes, "...who is a type of Him who was to come."

A shadow. A real man, placed on purpose, to outline someone greater who hadn't come yet.

We already know it's Christ but Paul makes us wait anyway.

And then he interrupts himself a second time.

Two interruptions. Once after verse 12, to explain the law. And then after verse 14, to explain the type. Both times, right when you think you're about to see Christ, Paul makes you wait a little longer.

Today, we finally get to stand where Paul's been leading us all along.

Because saying Adam is “a type of Christ” raises an obvious question, one Paul knows you're already asking.

Wait. A type of Christ... how?

Paul doesn't leave "type" hanging in the air. He tells you exactly how Adam functions as "a type."

God appointed both Adam and Christ as legal representatives. Not just influential men. Not just examples to follow. Representatives, standing in for people who never cast a vote and never signed anything.

When we adopted our five little ones, we didn't just show up and love them and call it done. Before we ever had the right to make a single decision on their behalf, a judge had to sit behind a desk in Guatemala City and legally appoint us as their representatives.

Until that happened, we had no authority. We could love them all we wanted. Legally, none of it counted. The moment it was signed, everything changed. Our decisions became their decisions. Our record became their record.

Not because they chose us. They were children. They didn't choose anything. They were chosen for, and represented, whether they understood what that meant yet or not.

Someone appointed over you, whose actions count as yours, whether you had a say in the appointment or not.

Adam was appointed over his descendants. Every person who would ever be born from him.

Christ was appointed over His descendants too. Not by blood. By faith. Everyone who would ever believe in Him.

And God appointed both of them as the only two men in history who would ever hold that position. Not one of a hundred. Not one of a thousand. The first, and the last. Every other human being who has ever lived stands under one or the other. There’s no third option, no standing on your own record.

And whatever those two men did, God credits the results to everyone they represent.

That's the whole architecture Paul’s building. Two men. Two humanities. And every single one of us placed under one of them before we ever had a vote in the matter.

But if Paul stopped there, you'd walk away thinking Adam and Christ are simply equals, one canceling out the other.

He doesn't want you thinking that.

So he interrupts himself again.

But the free gift is not like the transgression. For if by the transgression of the one the many died, much more did the grace of God and the gift by the grace of the one Man, Jesus Christ, abound to the many.

Romans 5:15 NASB 1995

Paul just spent an entire paragraph presenting Adam as a type of Christ. Legal representative. Appointed over descendants. One of only two men whose actions would ever be credited to an entire humanity. And just when the parallel feels complete, right there, Paul draws the line.

"But the free gift is not like the transgression."

“Not like.”

It doesn't take a theologian to know that righteousness isn't the same as sin. That's not the revelation. The revelation is how far apart they actually are.

Don't picture a crack in the sidewalk or a ditch you could jump across with a running start. Picture the Grand Canyon. A mile deep in places. Ten miles across at its widest. Stand on one rim and the other side almost disappears into the distance.

Even that is only a faint picture of the distance between Adam and Christ.

You'd expect the math to at least balance. Sin takes you into the negative. Grace brings you back to zero. Even trade. Back to zero, the way it was in the garden before anyone ate anything.

But that's not what Paul says happened.

“Much more.”

Sin took you into the negative, and grace didn't just bring you back to zero. It carried you far beyond where Adam left you because the work of Christ far exceeds the work of Adam.

That phrase, much more, isn't new in this letter. Back in verse 10, Paul used it to describe your reconciliation to God. "If while we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, much more, having been reconciled, we shall be saved by His life."

Much more meant certainty.

If God did the harder thing, reconciling His enemies, He will absolutely do the easier thing, saving those He's already reconciled to Himself.

Carry that same weight into verse 15.

Paul’s telling you this is certain. Guaranteed.

If Adam's one act brought death to everyone he represented, then how much more will Christ's one act bring overflowing grace to everyone He represents.

Not maybe. Much more.

"For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 6:23

Paul hasn't gotten to that verse yet, not in the text, but you can feel it coming, and it's worth pulling forward because it names the two words holding up everything he just said.

A wage and a gift.

A wage is what you've earned. You clocked in. You did the work. When payday comes, nobody congratulates you for receiving a gift. They simply give you what they owe you.

A gift is the opposite of that in every way that matters. Nobody owes you a gift. You didn't clock in for it, you didn't earn it, and the person handing it to you could just as easily have kept it for themselves.

In Adam, death became the wage of sin. Our representative sinned, and the consequences of that sin became ours as well.

In Christ, we're offered a gift. Not death. Not even a neutral trade. A gift, freely given by someone who owed us nothing.

Christ came to secure a free gift for people who had already earned the opposite.

Notice how personal Paul makes this. The gift comes from "the grace of God and the gift by the grace of the one Man, Jesus Christ."

The Father is gracious. The Son is gracious. Grace belongs to the very character of God, and Jesus isn’t a reluctant participant in our salvation.

I think we picture Jesus coming to earth like someone who got handed an assignment. Like He looked at the job description, sighed, and did it anyway because it was His duty.

That's not what Paul’s describing.

Grace isn't just something God has.
It's who God is.

It's a quality in His character that finds joy, real joy, in doing good to people who deserve the opposite from Him. And Christ carried that same quality into a manger, into thirty-three years of perfect obedience, into a cross He didn't have to climb.

He didn't come reluctantly. The Son delighted to do His Father's will, and that will was to save sinners like us.

"We believe that we are saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus" (Acts 15:11).

In Adam, we receive our wages. In Christ, we receive a gift.

But the free gift is not like the transgression. For if by the transgression of the one the many died, much more did the grace of God and the gift by the grace of the one Man, Jesus Christ, abound to the many.

Romans 5:15

Paul doesn't just say God gave you grace.

He says grace abounded.

We don't use the word "abound" very often, so I think we read right past it. But that word carries more weight than we usually give it.

It doesn't mean God supplied exactly enough grace to cancel Adam's sin. It means He poured out grace in abundance. More than enough. Not measured to match the debt, but overflowing far beyond it.

Think of it this way. Someone owes you $1, but instead hands you $1,000,000. That's no longer payment. That's generosity. That's abundance.

"From His fullness we have all received, and grace upon grace" (John 1:16).

“Grace upon grace.”

Not grace, and then it ran out. Grace, stacked on more grace, stacked on more grace again. God isn't rationing what He gives you.

And Paul isn't done with this idea. He'll come back to it in verse 20, when he writes, "where sin increased, grace abounded all the more." Whatever sin does, grace doesn't just keep pace. It outruns it.

Whatever your sin has been, however deep it runs, however many times you've returned to it, grace didn't arrive with just enough to cover that one thing and then stop. It arrived in abundance.

God has never looked at a sinner and wondered whether He had enough grace.

When He finishes pouring out His grace on His children, His supply is no smaller than when He began.

He has more grace than your sin could ever exhaust.

John Piper put it this way: "God's ultimate purpose in the universe is not judgment but salvation and the display of His grace in that salvation."

Every ounce of abounding grace in this verse exists to put that on display. Not to barely rescue you. To show off what He's like.

Two men.
Two representatives.

Adam never asked your permission before he sinned in that garden, and you never had a vote in what he did there. His transgression became your condemnation the moment you were born, the same way his blood runs through yours.

You'd expect that to be the whole story. Sin, and the consequences that follow. A debt owed, and nothing more.

But that's not the story Paul is telling.

Grace didn't just answer Adam's sin. It overwhelmed it. Not a fair trade. Not an even exchange. Abundance. More than enough, poured out by a Father and a Son who delight in doing good to people who deserve the opposite.

You've earned a wage. You've been offered a gift.

That's verse 15.

Next time, Paul takes you into the courtroom, and shows you exactly what that gift is worth.

I love you,

George

Covered in His Dust notes will always be free. If you’d like to support our ministry click here. Write Covered in His Dust in the memo.

George Sisneros is a full-time missionary in Guatemala and the founder of Ordinary Missionaries and the El Rosario Christian Academy for Boys.

He’s been married to his wife, Vonda, for 28 years. He’s a father to nine children, five adopted.

In 2024, George and his wife expanded to Cuba, joining forces with nine pastors committed to transforming lives through the gospel.