The wait is over—Romans is here.

An introduction

"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.

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Peace to you, brothers and sisters,

Romans begins tonight, and what a journey it will be.

People have called Romans the most important letter ever written. The most powerful. The most complete picture of the gospel in the entire Bible.

People have been drawn to this book for centuries.

Pastors.
Theologians.
Everyday believers.

Because something about it won’t let you go.

It exposes you. It cuts deep… and somehow heals at the same time.

Here’s what some of the most influential Christians in history have said:

Martin Luther: “This epistle is really the chief part of the New Testament and the very purest gospel… it is a bright light, almost enough to illumine the whole Bible.” Luther said if a Christian knew Romans well, they had the key to understanding all of Scripture.

John Calvin: “When anyone understands this Epistle, he has a passage opened to him to the understanding of the whole Scripture.” Calvin taught through Romans in detail and felt it contained the clearest summary of the Christian faith.

William Tyndale: (Bible translator and martyr) “The more it is studied, the easier it is; the more it is chewed, the pleasanter it is. …It is a light and a way into the whole of Scripture.” Tyndale urged every Christian to read Romans over and over again until it shaped their entire worldview.

Elisabeth Elliot: (missionary and author) “The truths in Romans taught me to trust God's sovereignty when everything else fell apart. It’s where my theology found its backbone.” Elliot said she often returned to Romans to find strength and clarity during seasons of deep loss.

John Piper: “Romans is the greatest letter ever written.” Piper spent 8 years preaching through Romans, over 225 sermons, because he believed it was the deepest, richest explanation of the Gospel ever given. (As you know, he’s one of my favorite pastors and he’s one of the reasons I decided to tackle this book.)

Augustine of Hippo: (354–430 AD) was one of the most influential Christian thinkers in all of church history. “No one can read Romans without being profoundly changed.” Augustine’s own conversion began when he heard a child’s voice say “Take and read”—and he opened to Romans 13. That moment changed the course of his life—and church history.

Corrie ten Boom: (Holocaust survivor, author of The Hiding Place) “Romans taught me that nothing, not even the horrors of a concentration camp, can separate us from the love of Christ.” Romans 8 became her anchor during some of the darkest moments imaginable.

I didn’t feel ready for Romans.

I didn’t feel qualified to write about it.
But that’s been our story for over a decade.

We weren’t qualified to be missionaries.
We weren’t qualified to start a middle school, much less run it.
We weren’t qualified to adopt five little ones from an orphanage, especially at our age.

But God doesn’t call the qualified.
He calls the obedient.

Like Isaiah, He calls the willing.

"And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, 'Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?' Then I said, 'Here I am! Send me.'"

Isaiah 6:8

I didn’t think I could explain it.

Not this one.
Not the book that took John Piper eight years to preach through.
Not the letter that’s been changing lives for two thousand years.

But something shifted. It didn’t feel like confidence. It felt more like hunger.

I began to care less about whether I could say everything perfectly, and more about whether I’d miss what God was trying to show me.

I started reading it slowly, with a notebook open.
And now I can’t stop thinking about it.

Paul doesn’t ease in. He doesn’t warm up with a nice story or a gentle reminder. He opens by reminding us that the entire world is guilty. That the wrath of God is real. That there’s no person, no tribe, no family, no rule-follower clean enough to stand before Him.

It’s not comfortable.
But it’s not supposed to be.

If you've ever looked at the world and thought, “Something is deeply wrong,” you’ll feel that confirmed in the first few chapters. But if you stop there, you'll miss the whole point.

Because just when Paul has laid out the deepest possible guilt, he unveils the deepest possible mercy.

God doesn’t ask us to clean ourselves up.
He doesn’t tell us to try harder.
He comes Himself.
He pays the price.
He adopts us into the family.

This letter was written by a man who used to be the enemy of the church.

He wasn’t just a scholar.
He was a persecutor.

When we first see him in Acts 7, he’s not preaching or praying. He’s standing and agreeing with the murder of Stephen, the first Christian martyr. They laid their garments before him, a silent gesture of trust, honor, and shared guilt.

He made it his mission to hunt down followers of Jesus, dragging them from their homes, throwing them into prison, tearing families apart in the name of truth and law.

He believed he was fighting for God.

Paul wasn’t lukewarm. He was all in, fueled by conviction, obsessed with the Law, convinced that Jesus was a lie and Christians were dangerous.

He had the best education, the sharpest mind, and a fire in his chest that that commanded attention. He wasn’t just influential. He was feared.

But then,
God broke him.

On a road to Damascus, ready to arrest more believers, Paul found himself flat on the ground, blind, trembling, and hearing the voice of the very Jesus he thought was dead.

‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?’”

Acts 9:4

In that moment, everything shattered.

And from the rubble of pride, power, and performance, God raised up a new man.

Not a man who boasted in strength, but in weakness. Not a man obsessed with law, but overwhelmed by grace.

Paul didn’t just change teams.
He changed hearts.

He became the loudest voice for the gospel he once tried to silence.

He traveled the world, planted churches, was beaten, stoned, shipwrecked, hated by many, and imprisoned more than once.

And yet, while locked in chains, he wrote the very words that would set others free.

This isn’t a letter from a man who played it safe. It’s a letter from a man who knew what it meant to die, and be raised to life.

And that’s the power still pulsing through these pages.

Romans wasn’t written for people who’ve got it all figured out.

It was written for people who can’t keep performing.
Who can’t make sense of their own heart.
Who believe in God but still carry shame.

He wrote it for those who think maybe they’re too far gone, or too new, or too weak.
Romans is for the ones still bleeding, still believing.

If that’s you, this is your book.

There’s a weight to Romans, but there’s also clarity. Paul doesn’t play games. He’s not poetic here. He’s not trying to entertain or impress you.

He’s trying to save your life.

And the words he writes are drenched in the Holy Spirit.

It’s a courtroom.
It’s a sermon.
It’s a love letter.
It’s a call to arms.

And you don’t need a theology degree to understand it.
You just need to be willing to sit with it.
To let it ask hard questions.
To feel the discomfort.

And to trust that the answers are better than you imagined.

I’m not going to pretend this book is easy. But I will tell you it’s worth it. Every verse is doing something. Every chapter lifts the veil a little more.

God is revealing Himself.

Some parts might frustrate you. Others will leave you in tears. And if you read it all the way through, I believe you’ll come to the same conclusion I did:

God is better than we thought.
And His grace is deeper than we knew.

Next week, we’ll begin excavating the first of sixteen chapters.

How long will it take to get through Romans? I have absolutely no idea.

It’s deep.
Like, to the depths of the human soul.
To the depths of God’s mercy.
To the depths of grace so wide you’ll never hit the bottom.

I promise not to rush.

Let’s dip our toes in.
Let’s linger over every word.
Let’s let it work on us until it changes us.

Let’s go slow enough to actually see God.

I love you,

George
Uncovering Scripture

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 26 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.